Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Sword Dragon
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Deep sparring among distant juniors. Even though they were watching, it seemed like they should offer at least a brief evaluation, but during the match, the Sword Emperor, Fist King, and Wind Prodigy said nothing.
They couldn't. Even in the Wind prodigy's eyes, who didn't know enough about martial arts to judge them, the bout between Thunder Cloud and Sword Dragon was far beyond a simple fifth-tier level.
The Wind Prodigy especially had even more reason not to speak up. As Sword Dragon had said, Thunder Cloud held the advantage from start to finish. He'd already been scolded for leaking word of the spar to the Heavenly Thunder of Derusia Magic Tower, and opening his mouth now would just earn him the Sword Emperor's icy glare.
The Sword Emperor himself had no such intentions. He'd been certain of his grandson the Sword Dragon's defeat mere seconds after the spar began. He'd even sensed it before they started.
And yet, what surprised him was how much better Thunder Cloud's skills were than he'd imagined.
Sword Dragon was the boy who'd gripped a wooden sword and swung it since the age of five.
A child who'd learned the sword even before opening his dantian and stepping into internal energy cultivation.
In the eyes of the Sword Emperor, who'd swung a blade his entire life, his grandson's sword talent was extraordinary.
And yet that grandson's sword failed to shine against Thunder Cloud. What was lacking? He'd never grown arrogant from his gifts, trained diligently, sparred plenty, and believed he'd given him ample real combat experience.
'I see.'
The answer wasn't hard to find. What separated Sword Dragon from Thunder Cloud was ultimately their environments. The Sword Emperor had already heard what Thunder Cloud's life had been like up to now. Constant brushes with death. Not just one-on-one duels, but dozens of chaotic melees against gangs.
Sword Dragon had plenty of spars and real fights too. But he'd rarely faced true life-or-death lines where death could come at any moment. In the end, the "real combat" Sword Dragon knew was just safe scraps, shielded by other knights.
Only after realizing this did the Sword Emperor grasp the "offness" of the spar.
Thunder Cloud's movements were precarious.
He faced a slashing sword that could lop off his head in an instant, yet there was no hesitation in his steps.
Daringly thrusting limbs into the onslaught to disrupt trajectories wasn't something mere courage could accomplish. A slight delay in timing or misread of the blade's path would draw blood, yet he precisely targeted that hair's-breadth margin between slice and miss.
That's why it looked so perilous.
'A sensation honed by hurling himself into the jaws of death.'
His grandson was blessed with many talents, but he lacked that instinct. Such a sense wasn't inborn—it was forged through experience.
'The technique he used midway resembled the Fist King's.'
He'd never formally learned any arts from the Fist King. They'd only lightly sparred two days prior. Thunder Cloud's martial arts differed from the Fist King's. But the pursuit was the same. The Sword Emperor let out a dry chuckle and glanced at the Fist King.
The Fist King's face was utterly grave. He didn't think his arts had been stolen. He knew it wasn't the same technique.
"Cheeky bastard."
He'd said he'd teach him one move. The Fist King mulled over the response and chuckled again. He'd said as much, but who could've guessed he'd assimilate it so quickly.
"I was going to bide my time since he has ties to you, Fist King, but this is too enticing."
"Who wouldn't be tempted?"
The Sword Emperor laughed back. Twenty-two years old at fifth tier. Not just raw tier, but skills solidly built from the ground up. Destined to become a Wuji Sovereign one day, and best of all, Thunder Cloud hadn't pledged himself to any faction yet.
"If I had a daughter, I'd have taken him as a son-in-law."
"A bachelor mouthing off like that."
The Sword Emperor clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"The same punk who turned down captain of the Orsia Knight Order."
"I wouldn't join your knight order either, brother. Best case, you're still just order-affiliated."
"Urgh..."
"Any way to snag him as a disciple? Hash it out with Fist King later—just drag him off by force?"
"Forget it. Force an unwilling kid into discipleship, and what master treatment would you get?"
"I don't give a damn about master treatment. Toss my arts at him, he masters 'em on his own, then has him brag that his master was Fist King Dokgo Gwijin."
What a brazen reply. The Sword Emperor stared at the Fist King in sheer exasperation before shaking his head.
"Enough nonsense. Think of a nickname."
"Nickname, huh..."
"Jaydolf, you pitch in too."
The singled-out Wind Prodigy gave an awkward smile as he offered his idea.
"Thunder Dragon... what do you think?"
"Thunder Dragon?"
"Isn't just slapping 'dragon' onto a nickname too plain and half-assed?"
His suggestion was shot down the instant it left his mouth.
'Then why even ask?'
Unable to gripe openly, the Wind Prodigy just flashed a sheepish grin.
"..."
Was it normal to parade someone in front like this and slap a nickname on them? Yuri felt an unbearable awkwardness and stared up at the sky for the moment. A 'dragon' moniker was a huge honor for later-generation prodigies, but Yuri, who hadn't been born and bred in this world, struggled to vibe with it.
'Nickname... nickname...'
It wasn't quite the same as a casual nickname. In this world, a moniker served as a name substitute. When you didn't know the name, or weren't close enough to use it, or respect outweighed familiarity, you went with the moniker.
In that light, Estor calling Yuri by name meant he'd set aside formality and respect to acknowledge something like equal-footed friendship.
'Friends?'
He'd reached name-basis with the Orsia Family heir. The orphan who'd once groaned in a dingy Oldor single-room, agonizing over how to survive in this world, had come this far.
"Thought about what to ask for?"
Estor, standing nearby with arms crossed, spoke up.
"Hand over an Elixir?"
"I'd have to."
Estor answered without hesitation. The Sword Emperor, mid-debate on Yuri's moniker, shot him a fierce glare, but Estor ignored it and pressed on.
"Everything in the Orsia Family becomes mine someday anyway. Word is, a few more Elixirs are left."
"You little shit—it's yours later, not now!"
The Sword Emperor finally bellowed, but Estor acted like he hadn't heard.
"But the Elixirs in the family right now are all the old formula. Not like the new-model Alfreon Ascard chugged. Sure, the old stuff's still top-tier among artificial spirit meds—no slouch there—but it's a step down from the new."
"Yeah?"
"If you're angling for an Elixir from me, hold off till later. In a few years, the Ascard Family'll send some over as a gift. Might even have upgrades by then, so better than grabbing the old batch now."
Estor, still talking, let out a brief laugh.
"Honestly, I wouldn't recommend slamming another Elixir. Internal energy skyrockets, lifespan extends, but you won't get the same transformation as the first one."
"Just checking. Not actually gunning for an Elixir."
He'd wanted to gauge the ceiling on requests. An Elixir you couldn't buy for all the gold in the world. Hell, Estor was even offering the still-unreleased new model—it seemed "favors" carried serious weight for him.
"Then I'll hold off on the request. Nothing I need right now anyway."
"How about a gift for me, sir?"
Ha-ryeong, who'd been spectating the spar from afar, approached.
"I gave Yuri-nim a fine dagger as a gift two years back, but I still haven't gotten my reciprocation."
"Wasn't that payment for when I helped you out, Ha-ryeong-nim?"
"Good memory."
Ha-ryeong muttered with her usual face.
"Even so, I did plenty for Yuri-nim back when he was a nobody. I figure one little gift for me is fair."
"Go on, say what you want."
"My hair's always neat, so no need for a hairpin. A dagger like the one I gave Yuri-nim would make me thrilled."
Why bring up the hairpin like that? Yuri furrowed his brow and shot Ha-ryeong a look, but her expression didn't budge. Obviously on purpose.
"What a nasty personality."
"Mine's impeccably fine."
"You say no need for hairpins, yet you always wear the same one."
Ha-ryeong had sported the exact same hairpin since Yuri first saw her two years ago. A butterfly-shaped one, worn down. It looked like finely wrought luxury goods, but the faded sheen suggested it was quite old.
"My mother's keepsake."
"Sorry..."
He'd meant to rib her on the inconsistency, but with a reply like that, Yuri couldn't press further. Back on Earth, he'd keyboard-smashed plenty of strangers' parents to death, but even in his wild youth, he'd separated real life from the net.
"What's a mere apology? Show some sincerity."
"Hm... a dagger... The Orsia vaults do have a few..."
Estor muttered obliviously. Yuri shot him a glare loaded with "shut it." Precious as this "favor" was, cashing it in for a dagger stung.
"I'll pick one out and gift it later."
"Pardon?"
She'd begged for the gift, yet sounded shocked when he agreed. Yuri glanced at Ha-ryeong's face, puzzled. Same expression as always, but her pupils were dilated a touch wider.
"You really mean it?"
"You said you wanted one."
"I did, but I never dreamed Yuri-nim—sharp as you are—would agree so readily."
"I'm not that sharp..."
"When?"
Her wide eyes settled back to normal.
"The sooner, the better."
"You don't need one right now. You've got plenty of daggers."
"Yuri-nim's never thrown daggers, so you wouldn't know, but the more, the better."
It was sneakily convincing.
"Ah, but don't worry. I won't use a dagger you gifted me for throwing."
"Yes... thank you..."
Sooner the better, but a run-of-the-mill shop dagger wouldn't cut it. It was true he'd gotten all sorts of pointers from Ha-ryeong before properly starting martial arts, and after Fist King left Lutran, he'd leaned on her advice too.
'Made good use of Black Fang too.'
The Black Fang he'd hurled to kill that old crone was still tucked in his bosom.
'Fist King's methods got some application, but I'm still miles from wielding them right.'
Thirty years had passed, and it wasn't a game. He didn't even know if the Fist King's art was still "Myriad Severance Fist," but its performance diverged wildly from the game version.
In Yuri's experience, to put it in terms: Nan Sky Flowing Cloud Fist was "evasion." Game-wise, enemy attacks missed outright while channeling the skill.
Myriad Severance Fist struck the enemy's cast animation to force a cancel. In reality—unlike games—either demanded reading the foe's moves.
'Or react the instant your eyes catch it.'
No easy feat. Yuri could read moves decently, but he'd pulled off Fist King techniques against Sword Dragon thanks to mastering the Spinning Thunder Isle Art, a lightning technique. That let him seize a speed edge and restrict Sword Dragon's blade paths as planned.
'Against someone faster than me, rhythm-breaking gets tough.'
Nan Sky Flowing Cloud Fist could shore that up. Flow and sever what he could while parrying strikes, and he'd earn Sword Dragon's "plays like a damn game" nod.
'Build's finally shaping up?'
No slotting penalty skills like a game character. Totally different skillset. But the concept mirrored it.
Evasion via Nan Sky Flowing Cloud Fist and Standard Wind Cloud Step. Fist King's cancels. Once he could wield Exhaust Eternity, he'd snag lifesteal too. Speed from Spinning Thunder Isle Art, offense from Heavenly Principle Annihilating Evil Art, crits via Holy Flame Force Emission.
'Finish this, and it'd outclass the game character?'
Theory said yes, but... unlike keyboard controls, reality meant Yuri called every shot and move himself.
"Cloud Dragon."
A voice cut through as he mulled builds in his head.
"Cloud Dragon—what do you think?"
It was the Sword Emperor.
'Thunder Cloud means Thunder Dragon's too basic and lazy, he'd griped...'
Yet Fist King—who'd made that point—nodded happily at Cloud Dragon, while the chewed-out Wind Prodigy forced a grin without openly souring.
"Could be a dragon in the clouds, or one riding them. Fits someone like you—unheralded till now, but grabbing eyes all at once, doesn't it?"
No vibe to refuse. Wasn't even a moniker he'd hate enough to nix.
'Cloud Dragon...'
What was this itchy buzz...
Chest tickling, face flushing warm, fingers and toes prickling...
"You can just say you like it."
Warm breath huffed in his ear. Yuri flinched, shoulders hunching, and glanced aside to find Ha-ryeong smirking faintly his way.
[Why whisper when sound transmission works...!]
[Saw your reaction earlier—couldn't resist. Anyway, Yuri-nim, say you like it. Don't overthink the face.]
[Not crazy about it.]
[Liar. Those lofty seniors coined it themselves. Far as I know, you're the first junior the Sword Emperor's ever nicknamed.]
[What about Estor?]
"No matter how he dotes on his grandson, even the Sword Emperor wouldn't brazenly dub himself Sword Dragon."
Ambivalent as he felt deep down, it was still a moniker from the Sword Emperor, Fist King, and Selvis Tower Lord. Stonewalling now would tank all his built goodwill and paint him a rotten junior.
"It's an honor."
So Yuri went with the textbook response. He even mustered a proud, pleased look. It came naturally, no forcing it...
"So, Cloud Dragon Yuri. When're you heading out?"
Estor—not even his moniker—bobbed his head in satisfaction from the side and piped up.
"Don't wanna overstay and be a burden, so tomorrow."
He answered humbly, but Estor snapped back instantly.
"I'm coming too."
Another natural expression slipped out unbidden.
Suddenly?
Why?
A blatant sourpuss face laced with bafflement,
"Oho."
Before Yuri could respond, the Sword Emperor let out an appreciative noise.
"Estor, that's the best thing you've said all day. Learned a lot from your spar with Cloud Dragon, eh?"
"Yes."
The Sword Emperor clearly had no plans to stop his grandson.
"If you come with us, it could get dangerous..."
"Danger's exactly what he wants."
"The kid needs some peril. Can't coddle him in Paterion forever. I fretted when he went solo to Evil Fragrance, but with Cloud Dragon and Dark Flame? He'll be fine."
"We were thinking Black Dragon Society and Killing Guard Sect..."
"Long as it's not Demonic Cult or cults, doesn't matter."
"No ties to Killing Guard Sect, but thick with Black Dragon Society's Six Fiends' Heavenly Blade Gate. Still swap gifts yearly with their lord, Blood Heaven Blade Pang Hu."
"That Pang Hu's decent for black road stock. Probably hit seventh tier by now—what d'you reckon, brother?"
"Last I heard, just one hurdle left. Could make it this year."
The Sword Emperor and Fist King traded thoughts.
[So? Sword Dragon tagging along's fine by me.]
[But...]
[Yuri-nim's a possessor, so you'd need to watch your words and deeds around Sword Dragon. But for dodging side-eyes, better with him than without.]
Yuri mulled it over.
Even solo with just Ha-ryeong, he wouldn't blab "possessor" outright. Fame invited suspicions everywhere. But rolling with Orsia Family's Sword Dragon? That'd neuter a ton of them.
"You cover travel funds."
Yuri said after weighing it.
"I'm loaded."
Estor grinned back.