Chapter 101
Chapter 101
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: The Invisible Sword
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Chapter 101
* * *
The Fight Club finals.
The scions of the great noble houses participated in the Fight Club for their own reasons. To eliminate a competitor, to gauge the hierarchy among their peers, or driven by a pure desire to test their mettle against the strong...
And finally, for a reason that could be considered more important than any other.
To claim the 'grand prize' awarded to the ultimate victor of the Fight Club.
The winner would be granted the 'privilege of an immediate, guaranteed winning bid' on any single item in the Black Market.
And assuming the Guild City's words were true, they needed to seize that victory and secure the prize they so proudly touted.
His resolve set, Dale looked up at his opponent in the finals.
Before him stood Mikhail, the second son of House Lancaster, one of the three great ducal houses of the Empire. Despite an age gap of nearly a dozen years, Mikhail’s expression as he looked at Dale was utterly serious.
He carried himself with a nobility that showed no trace of carelessness or disrespect.
“It is a great honor to meet the young lord of Sachsen.”
Mikhail bowed his head respectfully, showing his courtesy.
“I humbly ask that you grant me a lesson.”
“The honor is mine, to witness the swordsmanship of Lord Mikhail… who is said to be the closest to joining the ‘Seven Swords of the Continent.’”
“My, you flatter me.”
Mikhail smiled with feigned humility.
“Who would dare speak of ‘talent’ in the presence of the eldest son of House Sachsen?”
*Shing.*
The Bloodflower Sword, tied at an angle to his sword belt, revealed itself from beyond its scabbard. A crimson blade.
Dale remembered the swiftness of his charge, the one he had shown before. But just as Dale couldn't bring himself to kill Ray Yuriseu, Mikhail surely couldn't kill the 'heir of House Sachsen'.
This world, like any other, was not equal.
Therefore, the value of the blood flowing through people’s veins could not be equal either.
For instance, 'accidentally' killing a common knight who was crying for surrender might be passed off as a mishap. But it was a different story if the victim was the heir to an imperial ducal house or the Red Magic Tower.
The weight of one's blood, the station determined from birth. Still, he couldn't let his guard down because of that fact.
After all, Mikhail Lancaster was a formidable opponent who could not be taken lightly.
Accelerating the four circles around his heart, Dale projected the concept of the Peacemaker into his knightly sword. A lake of darkness spread out, and at the same time, Dale's Death Knight adjusted its grip on its black sword.
“Shub.”
Finally, Dale called out the name of the grimoire dwelling in his heart.
The Book of the Black Goat, the foulest of grimoires, which he had already revealed to all and had no need to hide any longer.
—Yes, brother.
Shub smiled brightly, and for a moment, an emotion flickered across Mikhail's face. A disgust, as if he were looking at the vilest thing in the world.
The hero's sword, the grimoire, the acceleration of four circles. Dale assumed a combat stance amidst the swirling cold and darkness and raised his head.
Mikhail Lancaster also adjusted his grip on his hilt and raised his sword high above his head.
The Hawk's Stance (Posta di Falcone).
Over his breastplate, the white and red roses symbolizing the Ducal House of Lancaster were revealed.
Their meaning was 'cruel nobility'.
Just as the night raven crest of the Ducal House of Sachsen signified the 'messenger of death'.
In Dale’s mind, the ‘memories’ of the Saint Magdalena knight that he had once absorbed began to play back.
Mikhail Lancaster’s feats on the battlefield, his avatar, and even the sense of despair one felt before his overwhelming talent.
‘…He’s no ordinary opponent.’
He wasn't some future threat like Ray Yuriseu. The level Mikhail’s sword had already reached was far beyond what could be achieved by someone in their mid-twenties.
*Fwoosh!*
He had raised his sword above his head, and now it came crashing down vertically. A downward strike to the head, a basic of the basics in swordsmanship.
‘…!’
The distance between Dale and Mikhail had suddenly closed. The Death Knight’s black sword met the strike that was swung from right in front of him. Then, Mikhail’s sword slithered like a snake, digging into the Death Knight’s skeletal frame.
*Craaack!*
Just like that, the Death Knight’s shoulder blade, along with the arm holding the sword, was severed.
The bone crumbled as smoothly and cleanly as flowing water, and at the same time—.
The Death Knight’s severed bones exploded right in front of Mikhail’s face.
Corpse Explosion, a fundamental of black magic. But considering the lethality of the various formulas projected into it, its killing power was far beyond that of a mere necromancer.
It was designed to fragment and simultaneously sharpen the tips of the scattering bone shards.
In the face of it, Mikhail swung his sword again.
As densely as a net cast to pull up dozens of fish at once.
Next, Shub’s tentacles descended all at once. The thorny tentacles of the <> shot out from the shadows.
A relentless onslaught from all directions.
Simultaneously, from the black gun barrel along his shadow cloak, ‘bullets of darkness’ began to rain down.
Mikhail swung his sword once more.
He covered the 360-degree barrage of attacks, and a wind of blades swirled and scattered like a vortex.
‘A wind of blades…?’
No. What he was scattering was not mere wind pressure, but aura emitted from his sword. He was projecting his sword ki as projectiles, sniping each and every attack pouring in from all eight directions.
But the Bloodflower Sword that Mikhail Lancaster held was completely devoid of color.
The aura was invisible.
Formless, colorless aura.
And that aura finally wrapped itself around Mikhail Lancaster's 'sword'.
The Invisible Sword.
It was not the color of the aura that symbolized the 'Rose Cross Knights' of House Lancaster. It was Mikhail Lancaster's own unique aura.
“The most frightening sword is the one you cannot see.”
Wielding that very formless blade, Mikhail Lancaster smiled.
“I never imagined my sword was already known in the frozen lands of the North.”
“There are few things in this world harder to hide than brilliant talent.”
Dale feigned ignorance, maintaining his composure.
Had he not absorbed the brain of the Saint Magdalena knight, he might have allowed a fatal blow. Even with his memories of a past life, Dale did not know everything about this world. At the very least, something like an 'invisible aura' was of a nature that even Dale could not hide his astonishment.
That wasn't all.
Mikhail Lancaster spun the hilt of his Bloodflower Sword, adjusting his grip.
*Ch-ch-ch-chak!*
“…!”
The segmented crimson blade split into pieces of steel, transforming into a whip held together by a wire.
The Bloodflower Sword. It was named so because every time its segments tore through an enemy's flesh, it was said a crimson flower bloomed.
Dale knew of the sword’s infamy. But that crimson whip sword…
It was invisible.
Enveloped in an imperceptible aura, the bladed whip concealed its form.
*Whoosh!*
He could only guess its movements by watching Mikhail's hand. And that wasn't all. Once again, a formless aura scattered from his sword, a tempest of invisible sword ki.
It wasn't something he could identify and react to with his eyes.
And as long as Dale 'could not perceive' the attack, the Peacemaker's ability, <>, was meaningless.
<> was only effective when the caster was clearly aware of an attack.
A sense of urgency he had never felt before tightened its grip on Dale's heart.
“Shub.”
At the same time, Dale spoke. The surest way to deal with the unseen in this situation.
“Go wild.”
—Okay.
From beneath the hem of Shub's dress, giant tentacles, like something from the abyssal depths, surged forth.
*CRASH, BOOM!*
Like a colossal monster trampling a city, the massive tentacles began to indiscriminately smash the arena. Spreading his lake of darkness, the <> also unleashed their thorny tendrils in unison.
Under the cover of countless tentacles, Dale raised his head.
*Fwoosh!*
Simultaneously, an indescribable killing intent swept over him, and Dale raised his shadow cloak as a shield.
*Clang!*
Out of thin air, the shadow shield rang with the sound of metal as it collided with something. But what Dale’s shadow shield faced was no ordinary sword.
The bladed whip struck, and anticipating the path it would snake along, he raised another shield.
*Clang!*
The bladed segment at the whip's end was once again blocked by Dale's shield.
“…!”
Seeing this, Mikhail gasped.
A mere mage had deflected an invisible bladed whip relying on instinct alone? And he had accurately predicted the path the whip sword would take?
There was no trace of the 'panic of a mage who had let a knight get too close' in Dale's demeanor.
Simultaneously, countless tentacles rained down on Mikhail from all sides. He quickly retracted the whip sword and began to scatter his sword ki in every direction.
He hardened his formless aura into a protective barrier, blocking Shub's tentacles and black slime… while simultaneously projecting his aura as projectiles to eliminate them.
A stunning display of technique, seamlessly integrating offense and defense.
*Slaaash!*
And then, that formless bladed whip, the 'Bloodflower Sword', finally began to bloom flowers of blood as its name suggested. A blood flower bloomed on Dale's shoulder.
A segment of the blade grazed him, slicing his chest, and another blood flower blossomed there.
The endlessly swirling bladed whip dyed Dale's body in blood.
As his flesh was being torn to shreds, Dale bit his lip, narrowly avoiding fatal wounds.
'This is insane.'
He hated to admit it, but this opponent was incomparable to a novice like Ray Yuriseu.
'Should I surrender?'
The thought crossed his mind, but he quickly shook his head. If the prize was something the Lord Black coveted, it couldn't be mere bluff.
And the Lord Black wouldn't be the only one with his eyes on it.
Even if the Ducal House of Sachsen was the greatest of the Empire's grand fiefs, their wealth was not the greatest in the Empire.
The frozen lands of Sachsen couldn't hold a candle to the richness and fertility of House Lancaster, another of the three great ducal houses. If it came down to a bidding war, not even Sachsen could guarantee a 100% successful bid. And if Mikhail Lancaster claimed the prize as the winner, there would be no competition at all.
That was why he had to obtain it. The grand prize for the winner of the Fight Club.
He had to find a breakthrough.
'At the very least, I need a way to break through his formless aura.'
But if he let Shub's power run any more rampant, the Fight Club's protective barrier wouldn't be able to contain it.
Moreover, breaking the barrier before one side declared defeat meant immediate disqualification.
He couldn't draw out 100% of Shub's power, nor could he manifest his world of concepts.
“This isn't a very good situation for a mage, is it?”
As if reading Dale's thoughts, Mikhail spoke.
“No, in a sense, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it the 'worst possible situation'.”
“…”
“For a mage to allow a knight to close the distance… and to hold his own this well in close combat.”
His voice was filled with genuine awe.
“You have already far surpassed the capabilities of an ordinary mage.”
“…”
“To be honest, Lord Dale, even I cannot hide my wonder at your talent.”
Mikhail Lancaster said.
“The distance in this arena was too close for a mage against a knight from the start. The situation was far too advantageous for me.”
He was right. Objectively speaking, the circumstances were overwhelmingly unfavorable for an 'ordinary mage', a fact proven by Dale and Yuriseu being the only two mages who had participated in the Fight Club.
“So, you have no need to be ashamed.”
There was no shame in defeat.
“Because this was a fight a mage could never win from the start.”
The model of a knight, flaunting his pride while not forgetting to respect his opponent.
“So please, surrender now.”
Mikhail offered, retracting his sword.
“Lord Dale, you have already proven the weight of your name.”
“…”
“Even if you lose to me, the reputation of the 'Black Prince' will not be tarnished.”
“How can you be so certain of that?”
“Because I will not allow it.”
Mikhail Lancaster said. In stark contrast to his utterly vile swordsmanship, his words carried a nobility that seemed to embody chivalry itself.
Dale remained silent for a moment.
“Lord Mikhail, would you not feel shame in losing to me?”
After a pause, Dale asked in return. He didn't need to hear the answer.
“Neither would I.”
At those words, Mikhail’s expression momentarily froze.
“I have absolutely no intention of surrendering.”
Dale's black and blue mana began to swirl once more as he continued.
“Unfortunately for you, I am no 'ordinary mage'.”