Chapter 47
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: Falling Wind
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The moment he gripped the sword properly, the long-forgotten sensation came alive.
The spectators before his eyes vanished, the arena disappeared, and even Gilpert North faded away.
All that remained was the memory of Deyan Pador.
What belonged in this arena was not the Dark Venerable of the Sichuan Tang Clan, Dang Cheol-woo, but Deyan Pador.
The boy who had always yearned for the sword, dreaming of becoming a knight.
That little kid would swing a sword bigger than himself and stagger every time.
No matter how many times he repeated it, each time he thrust the sword out, his height and build grew.
Yet his sword stance remained clumsy.
The sword techniques he knew in his head.
He could never manifest them in reality.
The family swordsmanship practiced dozens, hundreds of times.
Yet the Pador sword he could never unleash.
But fear no more.
Empty your soul.
Recreate it anew in a state of no-mind.
No—fill it with the Pador sword forms that young Deyan had once dreamed of.
And then he opened his eyes again.
From Gilpert North to the two girls praying amid the spectators.
Everything came into sharp focus.
Was the one standing here Deyan Pador from his first life?
Or Dang Cheol-woo from his second?
Neither.
This was the life he was meant to live from the start.
Deyan Pador, whose talent had never been sealed, stood tall.
At that moment, the sword sang on its own.
The Pador family... had permitted him to wield the sword.
And in that instant.
Gilpert North's sword afterimages rushed in from all directions.
Ferocious.
He gazed at the afterimages in silence.
The hazy mist of afterimages cleared, revealing a single sword.
Its true form was far too clear.
Ting...!
"...!"
Gilpert North couldn't withstand the sword force and was pushed back relentlessly.
Even though Deyan had forced him back, Gilpert stared at Deyan's sword in astonishment. The power infused in it was fuller than he had anticipated.
What is this?
A smile formed.
It seemed his true talent belonged to him after all.
"Hold on tight, Gilpert North...!"
When soul and body unite as one... what could possibly hold him back?
He just had to unleash it.
Gilpert North tried to thrust his sword at the approaching Deyan.
"Right here."
Deyan struck the back of Gilpert's neck with the sword's hilt, targeting his vital point.
Thud...!
"...!"
Humiliated, Gilpert unleashed waves of crimson sword aura like crashing red tides.
The arena shook under his sword aura, but Deyan's body had already reached the opposite side where his gaze had landed.
This sensation where intent alone made it real.
Was innate talent truly like this?
But before he could fully savor the awe.
"Don't toy with me...!"
Gilpert North's body erupted with raging red mana that soon enveloped him entirely.
It felt like an immense typhoon compressed into a single sword tip.
Before long, his red mana shrank to a mere point and coalesced at the sword's core.
"Wait...!"
"Dangerous!"
Ran Ford and Andrew shouted urgently.
Gilpert North's sword brimmed with viscous killing intent and an enormous amount of mana.
But Gilpert had already steeled his resolve.
Why did they say wounded beasts rampage the hardest?
That was exactly his state.
Krunch...!
The crimson sword core shot forth. Tiny compared to sword aura, yet its speed and power were immense.
The arena floor cracked rigid even before contact.
Oh? He can do that too?
Should he applaud?
He had achieved one of the pinnacle arts of swordsmanship.
Extremely condensing and refining one's energy like that was no easy feat.
But even wielding a sword instead of a flying dagger.
If he, who had reached the absolute realm, couldn't handle this boy's swordsmanship—how could he call himself a martial artist?
All great martial paths followed the same core principles.
Gilpert North's single sword was enough.
Since the opponent had shown off such skill... he would duly respond in kind.
He thrust his sword toward the sword core.
Unlike Gilpert North's, it held not a trace of mana.
What would he infuse into that sword?
He twisted it like a spinning top.
Exploiting the sword core's mana. Rather than rejecting it... he yielded to it.
And then, attraction.
Like a willow leaf, he softly enveloped the sword core and spun it like a wheel.
Without blocking or dodging the mana, he let it grow even stronger...
And sent it back at Gilpert North.
Kwaaaaa!
"...!"
Dust choked the arena.
A massive explosion engulfed Gilpert North. The watching Ran Ford's gaze naturally turned to his shield.
Deyan looked at it too.
Several scorch marks marred it. But for a direct hit, the shield held strong.
Whoosh— A sword slashed through the dust.
The wind pressure cleared the dust away.
Gilpert North emerged.
But blood trickled from his mouth. His pride seemed utterly shattered by the sight of his own blood.
Deyan walked slowly toward him.
"Glad you're still in one piece. We've still got debts to settle, right?"
As Deyan's smile deepened, Gilpert North's face twisted further.
"Now you look a bit more presentable."
"Don't insult me...!"
Gilpert North roared in fury.
But Deyan only mocked him more.
"Don't insult me? That's rich coming from you. You lot considered yourselves the strong, yet showed no respect for your opponent. Why should I respect the likes of you?"
That gaze they gave the weak.
He could overlook it once as youthful bravado, but twice or thrice? Time to correct that habit.
Even if he conceded a hundred times, he could tolerate it directed at him.
It was mere play to him, after all.
In the initial provocation, he could call it his own mistake.
But the second time, when Easton tormented the fallen noble's son, he could have stopped it.
Yet he didn't?
Obvious, wasn't it?
Easton might have seemed reckless on the surface, but when deciding actions, he always checked Gilpert North's mood.
In other words, Easton's every misdeed happened with Gilpert North's tacit approval.
He had overlooked them all.
It grated on him. It pissed him off.
A true strongman reveres the weak, rather than despising them.
Gilpert North was the polar opposite. Classic law of the jungle logic. If that's what he wanted...
Then he'd teach him a lesson by turning the tables.
"Shut up...!"
Gilpert North charged. His sword brimmed with every technique he knew.
Tap!
Deyan casually swung his sword, tripping him. Staggering, Gilpert thrust again without giving up.
Countless crimson gales swirled around Deyan.
Pathetic.
He simply raised his sword in reverse grip. Then... slowly brought it down.
The crimson gales dissipated. Gilpert North's sword trembled. Fatigue?
No.
His body twitched. Not by his will.
A gentle breeze swept through, extinguishing the lingering gales like afterechoes.
By the time his eyes drifted downward, his pupils shook as if struck by lightning.
What his eyes saw was his own knee.
He had knelt before he knew it.
- Pador Family Swordsmanship.
- Second Form: Falling Wind.
An immense pressure crushed him like a giant's footfall.
"...!!"
Gilpert North stared at Falling Wind in disbelief.
The breeze he took for a zephyr became a gale, pinning him down. He struggled to rise, but this was the Pador family's legacy.
The great swordsmanship built by the house over generations.
Not something a punk like him could deny.
"No, no. That's your well."
Deyan pressed down on empty air with his sword.
Gilpert North's teeth chattered.
"Kuh...!"
Not his will—instinct.
He bit down hard to stop the trembling, but Deyan wouldn't let him escape that frog pond.
"Ughhh...!"
Not just his knees—his upper body flattened to the ground.
He groveled like a frog.
Gilpert North lifted his face. But the earlier bravado was gone.
Just despair.
He stared at Deyan with a scream in his eyes.
The ominous atmosphere made Ran Ford step forward. This was no longer a duel.
"Stop this! The match is already decided!"
Stop?
"By what right?"
"You... this is the Ford family...!"
"Only the strong decide when it ends."
Ignoring Ran Ford, he looked down at Gilpert North.
"I'll tell you one thing. It's not that your family's swordsmanship is lacking."
Gilpert North gazed up blankly.
"...?"
Deyan slammed his sword into the ground before Gilpert North's face.
The floor cratered, forcing his head to the dirt under the pressure.
"You're just lacking."
Exactly like this.
Even that Heavenly Demon punk had been cocky back then—he'd crushed him for it.
Well, that guy used it as motivation to rise to cult leader, trying to surpass him.
Whether this crushed Gilpert North had that caliber remained to be seen.
He descended from the arena. A total mess, but the shield linked to him bore not a single scorch.
What would Ralph say?
Happy to see the family honor raised?
"Nah."
That guy would throw a fit that it should've been him.
Typical of him.
"Young master...!"
In the silent arena, the only bright voice from the stands.
Marian and Nellin hugged, cheering.
"He won! He won!"
"Yay!"
Cute.
As they broke the silence first, the nobles rose one by one.
Going to clap?
Hands went up.
And then...
"Pador! Pador! Pador! Pador!"
Everyone was swept in ecstasy.
Thrilling.
A fitting confrontation, Pador's victory.
Gilpert North had been the perfect opponent.
Though he'd gone a bit overboard because of Ralph's issue.
This reaction wasn't bad.
Glancing aside, Closs stared only at the arena, not him.
Must sting.
In the original timeline, Closs had gone last, defeating Easton despite Pador's disadvantage.
Then tying with Gilpert North in a feat of valor.
This cheering was meant for Closs.
Smiling, Deyan placed a hand on Closs's shoulder.
"Something to celebrate, right?"
Wonder how much rage is boiling under that stoic shell?
He patted his shoulder twice and left the arena. At that moment...
"Kyaaaa...!"
"...?!"
Someone approached, so he dodged hastily.
Looking closely, it was some nameless noble lady. Not just her.
"Lord Deyan! Hello? Do you know me? Probably not, right? But I know you!"
A woman shoving her face too close, overwhelming.
"How tacky... For the Pador youngest, it should at least be our Corellia family to match."
A woman in even flashier clothes than Princess Marina, sneering.
"...Hm?"
And one with twintails winking silently.
He basked in the attention of every sort of noble lady.
Didn't see this coming.