Etiquette (2)
I've emphasized it time and again, but I'm no fool. Sure, I screw up force control and cause all sorts of accidents, but I can discern right from wrong just fine. So I've known from the start that I can't beat Lord. How could I, when he wields the sword with power beyond mere magic? And that title of Sword Saint isn't some cheap sticker he slapped on himself. It's the result of decades honing his skills while wandering the world, just like Lize. Even in Soul World, his strength is legendary. Take the academy collapse arc, for instance. Despite the demon's tricks sapping half his power, he utterly demolished the enemy. And considering that demon was violet-rank, not even blue—that's an incredible feat.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Space slash."
So I begged him first, all humble-like. Anything else is fine—just no space cuts. I might be the one picking the fight, but call it disgraceful all you want. Space-related techniques ignore all defense. Armor, barriers—meaningless.
"Fine. That much I can allow. It's just a spar, after all."
Lord nodded, apparently able to tolerate that much. As he said, this wasn't a fight to the death; it was a proper spar. The same spot where I'd clashed with Hector. I'd have preferred the arena, but someone else was using it. Plus, it might draw unwanted eyes.
"But I'll use it for defense instead. I need at least one trick up my sleeve, don't I?"
"Yeah."
"Speaking of which, all that candy you're eating... Your teeth will rot at this rate. Maybe a trip to the dentist will knock some sense into you?"
Lord clicked his tongue in genuine concern for my dental health. But it's fine. If they rot, I'll just yank 'em out. They'll grow back anyway. If anyone asks if that's normal human regeneration, I'll tell 'em straight: this is a fantasy world. Besides, my teeth are tough as nails—Kara and Hector took hits from me and came out fine.
"Anyway, I'll honor your request. But let's tweak the conditions a bit."
"Conditions?"
"Indeed. From watching you, it's clear you're the type who charges in blindly, relying on that stellar regeneration."
Spot on. My style is the classic "give flesh to take bone" tactic. Others might call it suicidal madness, but I've got regen. Lose some flesh, even bone—as long as I've got mana, it all grows back. The pain? That's on me.
"I don't want to hurt you. But to avoid taking even a single hit, I'd have no choice but to harm you outright. So let's adjust the terms."
"Scared?"
"Hah. Whoever taught you provocation, they did a fine job."
Lord let out an exasperated chuckle. Then his gaze shifted elsewhere—to the onlookers. Specifically, Kara, who'd come to watch our spar.
Kara flinched too, avoiding his eyes, managing only a wry smile before looking away.
"Anyway, here's the deal. This won't be a spar—think of it as training to instill some etiquette. Do you even know what polite speech is?"
Of course. It's the respectful tone you use with elders or those you honor. I can do it, technically. But I'm so used to casual talk, it doesn't stick. My mind says polite, but my mouth spits casual. Wonder if it's tied to my Faith stat—nope, unrelated. I can string long sentences together, so polite speech should be doable.
"We'll end the training when polite speech comes out of your mouth. Whether you hold onto your pride until you pass out or bend first—that's up to you."
"Candy?"
"Depends on how well the etiquette takes."
Sounded like a no. At least, based on everything Lord had seen so far. Was he that eager to break my stubborn streak? Guess I'd find out once we started. I gripped Ragnarok, the axe I'd brought from home, and glared at him.
He stood there, sword in one hand, the other behind his back. If Lize felt like an impenetrable wall, Lord seemed full of openings. Too many targets—hard to pick where to strike first.
"Come at me freely. I'll take it all."
Bang!
No holding back, then. The moment he spoke, I exploded forward. Mana propelled me, closing the gap in an instant. Lord wielded violet mana, like Lize—no need to test the waters.
Objectively, subjectively, I was at an absolute disadvantage. No changing that.
As his face loomed right in front of me, I swung the axe with all my might.
Thud.
"Huh?"
What the hell? Lord, who was right there, vanished. My balance pitched forward the instant he did.
My view flipped from ahead to the ground.
Crash! Thud!
I couldn't react to the sudden shift and tumbled awkwardly. I braced with one hand at the last second, but ended up covered in dirt anyway.
"You're sturdy and straightforward. But your feet leave the ground too easily. Keep them planted as much as possible."
As I shook off the dust, Lord lectured me. He was right—during attacks, my feet often lifted off. Old habit from forest life. Climbing trees for ambushes stuck with me. And prey were always huge; jumping was key to hit vitals.
"Come again. I'm ready anytime."
Lord urged me on, hands still behind his back, exuding Lize-level leisure.
I wanted to land at least one hit. But first, heed his advice. Even in a charge, keep feet down.
Mind set, I hurled the axe outright.
Whoosh!
Just a feint—Lord dodged with a casual head tilt. I timed it and charged.
As the distance closed, I mentally recalled Ragnarok. Back it came.
No eyes in the back of his head—he'd eat axe to the skull.
Thump!
"Huh?"
What now? Without even turning, he reached back and snatched it mid-air. Right on the handle, like he'd done it a thousand times.
But no time to gawk. I shook off the shock, abandoned the recall, and thrust my fist instead.
My massive knuckles rocketed toward his face. Point-blank; no dodge without turning.
Swish—
But Lord defied expectation. Just one step back. Fast enough to outpace my already-moving body? And thrusting his sword forward? Time seemed to slow for me alone.
Lord's stats were high, but age and poisoning held him back.
'What the fuck?'
While I panicked inwardly, he elegantly swung his extended sword. It traced a perfect circle right where my fist headed—not slicing space, but...
My fist slipped neatly into that carved space.
Crack!
"Gah?!"
A fist from nowhere smashed my face. He'd linked spaces for a counter.
My charging momentum collided with my own punch's force. Perfect counter.
Crash!
Down I went again, ugly as ever. Taking my own punch to the face—wild experience. Now I knew how painful my fists really were. Kara, Hector—they must've suffered.
'What about Lize?'
She shrugged off punches like that. Even took an axe to the gut unfazed.
As I spaced out, Lord's voice came from above.
"No one taught you, yet you pull off tricks like that. Hector show you?"
Nope. My idea.
I shook my dazed head and stood. Jaw wrenched, teeth cracked. True counter—Steel King's stats meant nothing. Felt like Lize's full-force chin shot.
'Probably worse in reality.'
Crack!
Regen fixed my jaw. I reached in, yanked the shattered tooth, and spat it on the ground. Too mangled to save—better rip it.
"Let's go more. Luna said you can use lightning too."
"...Heard that?"
"You mean 'Heard that, sir?' Still no polite speech, I see."
Make it stick, then. I took Ragnarok back from him—polite of him—and stood.
Whoosh!
Swing wide to create distance. He stepped back once and was suddenly far away. Shrinking ground technique—spatial ignore.
I've mentioned it plenty: violet mana users defy space limits. Shrinking ground was just that.
'Straight-up bullshit.'
In Soul World, it was just "impressive." Seeing it live? Different. The closer you get, the more bottomless it feels. If violet's this nuts, purple must be insane. Wonder if I could reach that.
Guess I'd clash and see.
Krunch!
Distance made, I triggered my new Thunder. Crimson lightning surged into Ragnarok.
As a faith weapon—Gulrak worshiper's endgame gear—it amplified lightning massively.
"Crimson lightning... Fiercer than Hector's, by vibe alone. But lightning's natural—can it really change color?"
Lord tugged his mustache, eyeing it. Even he hadn't seen red lightning.
I maxed the charge and swung diagonally. Red bolt roared out with thunder.
BOOM!!!
Lightning streaked toward him amid the roar. Direct hit wouldn't leave him unscathed. Space cut couldn't redirect it easily. Dodge or tank...
BOOM!
"...Huh?"
Should've been. But what the hell was this?
I gawked at the sight. Ignoring his own feet-down advice, Lord hopped lightly upward.
Then swung his sword at the bolt.
Looked like he was slashing it.
Crackle!
Wrong. The swing absorbed the red lightning whole. Just like I'd infused my axe—now his sword crackled red.
"One more tip. Abilities and skills don't harm their user much. Like punching with fire on your fist—no burn."
He spoke mid-air, feet off ground far longer than seemed possible.
"But when countered like this..."
He hurled the lightning back at me.
"You take the full brunt."