Chapter 643
Chapter 643
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 643
Chapter Title: Sword Witch
-----------------------------------------------------------------
1.
In this Fragrant Moon Tower, if you had to name the largest space, it wouldn't be the inner courtyard or the garden—it would be this training ground.
The overall shape was that of a modified courtyard.
The rectangular plot of dirt had been packed down so firmly that not a speck of dust would fly up, while cherry trees here and there scattered their petals.
"Spar with me."
Rinne tossed out the words without so much as asking Si-woo's opinion.
Strictly speaking, she didn't need to—because the Si-woo he was pretending to be would be itching for a fight at the sight of a martial artist on his level.
"Sure."
Knowing that, Si-woo put on a willing front.
It was all an act, but he hadn't been reluctant in the first place.
Rinne was a close-quarters powerhouse.
He knew full well how much sparring like this helped hone one's skills.
Gain her favor and trust while clashing with an entirely new type of swordswoman to push his realm forward? It was the best of both worlds.
Rinne headed toward the stone lantern at the corner of the training ground.
A heavy mana emanated from her body, seeping into the lantern.
-Boom!
At the same moment, a magic formation crawled across the ground beneath his feet.
The thick waves of mana radiating from the lantern didn't stop until they'd blanketed the entire training ground.
Just like the Gemernai Count Family's underground prison, it was a formation array that harnessed feng shui principles.
The effect was straightforward.
For starters, the already packed earth hardened even further, like asphalt.
A sort of barrier took shape along the veranda facing the courtyard.
Moreover, the amount of usable mana was restricted in an instant.
The limit sat at roughly one-tenth of what they could normally wield.
It was fairly spacious, but two great witches going at it full throttle would leave nothing of the training ground—so this seemed a way to rein in their power.
From the start, what Rinne wanted was a spear-versus-sword matchup, not a magic duel.
"Hold on—mind if I ask a few things first?"
He stopped Rinne before she could draw her sword without any preamble.
Si-woo still had plenty he wanted to discuss and questions that nagged at him.
Rinne's brow furrowed in clear displeasure, like a kid who'd had a long-awaited package snatched away right before opening it.
"Speak."
"Where are the witches who were with me? Did they come into the city too?"
Alice, Manya, and Malisha had been captured alongside Si-woo.
He had no obligation to worry about the ones who'd attacked first, nor was he asking out of some philanthropic impulse.
In a city where no one could be trusted, even one ally would make getting closer to Exodus that much more feasible—a purely rational calculation.
"Not my department. The Witch of Silence probably handed them off to the auction house."
About what he'd figured.
Exiles or not, they weren't about to grant citizenship to kidnapped witches.
"What happens if they're sent to the auction house?"
"Does it matter?"
A few exchanges in, and he could already read her moods pretty well.
Not with perfect accuracy, of course, but right now, she was seriously annoyed.
"Lucky ones become slaves. The unlucky get broken down and sold as materials."
Broken down?
He kept his reaction off his face, but that was a brutal turn of phrase for people.
No vague metaphor, either.
If anything, it rang too true, given all the rumors of their public conduct.
"Why ask?"
Should he just let it lie?
Was there some excuse he could make to bring them here? But if he came off as nosy, it might arouse the Sword Witch's suspicions—and that would be trouble.
Even if he wanted to buy them from the auction house, he had no justification to offer, and no guarantee she'd listen.
Better to drop it for now.
"Nah, it's nothing. More importantly, where's my spear?"
Right now, pinpointing the Red Branch material—the ultimate wildcard—was priority one.
"In storage."
"No spear, no spar."
"I won't use my arm either. I'll give it back if it's needed."
If it'd been auctioned off too, he'd be fuming—but at least this was a relief.
The Red Branch was too dangerous for sparring anyway.
Even with mana restricted to ten percent, controlling it would be a chore.
Rinne looked at her limit with impatience; no more stalling.
"Alright, let's do this."
Si-woo extended his arm to the side, and a black shadow stretched into the form of a long spear.
It matched the Red Branch perfectly in length and balance, wrapping around his hand like an old friend.
-Whoosh! Swoosh!
He swung it a few times to test.
With mana restricted, he needed to gauge his body's limits—see how far his planned movements would hold up.
Adapting didn't take long.
He'd done the same with his master, throttling his own mana for their spars.
"This'll do."
He glanced her way in his stiff tone of voice, and Rinne took her stance like she'd been waiting.
"Begin."
-Clang
The spear and sword tips met lightly, ringing out clear and bright.
Like boxers touching gloves in the ring.
Si-woo's mindset shifted in that instant.
He'd already crossed blades with Rinne in a life-or-death struggle, so he knew her caliber.
No room for distraction against her.
Her interest in him was a fragile spark.
What he showed here would decide if it fizzled out or blazed into something hotter.
In other words, he had to go all out.
2.
Spear strikes rained down like arrows, while sword blades scattered in graceful arcs.
Their fierce clashes parted and met again without the slightest deviation, like a performance rehearsed to perfection.
Even restricted, their movements far surpassed human limits.
In the span of one blink, five exchanges flew back and forth, and the ear-splitting shrieks of rending air betrayed how close they came to breaking the sound barrier.
"Hup!"
He thrust with one hand on the spear while snapping his head back.
Rinne's sword grazed past by a hair's breadth.
A split-second slower, and half his mouth would've been sliced open—a near-fatal blow bordering on assassination.
And here's the crucial part.
Even if Si-woo hadn't dodged, she wouldn't have stopped her blade.
Proof was in his body: mottled with angry red cuts and gashes, blood spraying across the training ground floor with every motion.
That's right.
Rinne held nothing back in this spar.
Every strike came at real-combat angles and force, with zero hesitation even when a clean hit was guaranteed.
He'd resolved to stake his life on this spar, but he'd never dreamed it'd turn into an actual deathmatch.
This a spar?
If it were MMA fighters trading glove taps, he'd get it.
But they wielded edged weapons.
One solid hit to a vital spot could kill.
Yet her eyes held no sticky malice—just pure, pristine zeal and the smile of someone utterly enjoying the game.
"Urk!"
This time, his thigh took a stab.
It missed the artery and didn't hit bone, but in that instant, his whole leg went rigid like a log.
No pain dampening like in the trial, and death here meant gone for good.
That crushing pressure bore down on Si-woo.
-Whooosh!
He reflexively whipped the shaft around to swat her away, but by then she'd leisurely slipped out of range.
Si-woo's spear should've had the reach advantage physically and by weapon type, yet she danced in and out at will, holding complete control.
"Huu... Huu..."
Blood trickled from a forehead gash he hadn't even felt, blinding one eye.
Thigh freshly stabbed, arms sliced five or six times already.
No vitals hit, but next to Rinne—who was spotless save for dripping sweat—he was a total wreck.
The result of small wounds piling up.
If there'd been a ref, it'd be TKO on the spot.
No ref in sight, and she showed no sign of stopping.
He had to admit it.
In pure swordsmanship, Rinne rivaled Eloa.
If his master had sparred under these rules without mercy, it'd end the same.
No matter his radiant talent or peerless contract.
Years of honed experience couldn't be bridged in a flash.
Am I really gonna die here?
Scarier still was Rinne's vibe—like even an accident would just get a casual "What a shame."
"Tired already?"
Rinne spoke as creeping anxiety locked Si-woo's body rigid.
Forcing a smile through gritted teeth, he shot back.
"No way."
He'd misread the assignment.
Should've played the lazy genius and coasted a bit...
Too late for regrets now.
3.
He flailed desperately, shitting bricks—but the gap held firm.
The spar only ended once Si-woo lay sprawled like a ragdoll.
"Haa... Haa..."
Feels like death.
Gonna puke.
Piercing pain stabbed every inch of him, and after nonstop motion, he couldn't even twitch a finger.
Still, part of him felt relief.
They'd wrapped without him losing a limb or his life—the worst avoided.
"Healer, treat him."
"Wh-what the hell is..."
"Treat him."
Lying there eyes shut, clinging to fading consciousness—he heard Rinne's icy voice.
Warm energy swirled through him, wounds knitting back together.
At least she had him healed—what more could he ask?
"Out. I'll call if needed."
Yebin was shoved away.
Si-woo staggered upright after two minutes blacked out, only to see Rinne still gripping her sword.
No.
No way...
"Again."
His mind blanked at the words.
Mana reserves untouched, just output throttled—both still had plenty left.
But they'd clashed weapons for over an hour.
He'd figured on a breather.
Treat him, rest three minutes, then straight back to that brutality?
"Fine. Bring it."
No choice anyway.
Just endure one more.
Surely she wouldn't pull this all day, no matter how spar-obsessed.
Clutching his spear, that's what Si-woo told himself.
Even at that point, he'd underestimated Rinne's ruthlessness.