Chapter 232: You Won't Be Able to Handle It (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 232: You Won't Be Able to Handle It (2)
He hadn’t asked Kyrie, nor had he asked Franz.
The formalities of a duel—standing face-to-face, exchanging greetings, drawing swords, confirming readiness, aiming the blade, and yielding a few moves to let the weaker opponent show their hand—Calian had never bothered with any of it.
"A fight, a duel, or a lesson. Which do you prefer?"
But he asked Demirea.
He offered her no other consideration, but he stood there for a moment, facing her, to ask which of the three she desired so badly that she would seek to cross swords with him.
He didn't ask, nor did he give her time to prepare, because she was weak, the daughter of a duke, or a woman. If he were the type to show consideration for such reasons, he would have done the same for Kyrie and Franz. And if he had let her gender influence him, this match would never have happened in the first place. Demirea wasn't the kind of person who would deign to learn from someone who cared about such trivialities.
"All three."
Whoosh!
With that brief answer, Demirea immediately thrust her sword forward. The silver blade whipped up a heavy wind, mirroring the weight in its master’s eyes.
‘This is why I like Demirea.’
Watching her deliver an answer and an action that were entirely to his liking, Calian’s lips curved into a wide arc as the now-familiar thought crossed his mind.
Dash!
In stark contrast to his relaxed smile, Calian—who had not yet even manifested his sword—kicked off the ground with explosive speed.
Simultaneously, Demirea’s sword sliced sharply through the exact spot where he had been standing a moment before.
Hummmm!
The air vibrated directly above Demirea’s head. As if there was no need to look up, she twisted at the waist and dodged.
With a sharp whoosh, a dark red shadow swept through the empty space she had just occupied, then vanished.
It had changed.
Hadn’t Calian’s sword been transparent?
Whatever he had done in that brief instant, the color of his aura was different now.
Seeing it, a fierce competitive spirit flared across Demirea’s face. It quickly transformed into an intense fighting spirit, sharpening the heavy gaze in her eyes.
Clang!
The silver sword chased the dark red afterimage. Calian, having leaped over her head, was already recovering from his downward thrust, twisting in midair to block her attack.
The moment Calian’s feet touched the ground, their blades clashed.
Clash! Screeech!
A sharp, grating screech rang out from the interlocked swords, but neither of them paid it any mind. Pushing against Calian’s blade, Demirea’s blue-gray eyes locked onto his red ones.
Her attack had been blocked.
Kyrie or Franz would have pulled back, taken a step, or lunged again.
But Demirea did not. Refusing to give up on a strike that had already been stopped, she poured all her strength into her sword, driving it against the dark red blade holding it back.
A contest of strength.
Her action carried a clear question: Since you asked if I wanted a fight, shouldn't we start with this?
Screeech!
Veins bulged on their arms as they poured their entire weight into their blades—one pushing forward, the other refusing to yield an inch.
In that split second, Calian loosened his grip, then tightened it again.
Clang!
His nearly weightless sword seemed to slip back for an instant before striking upward with even greater force, parrying Demirea’s blade away.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clash!
Having deflected the silver sword, the dark red blade scattered into a dizzying flurry before Demirea’s eyes. It was a clear declaration: I have no intention of indulging you in a contest of strength. Let’s test our speed.
A barrage of attacks rained down on Demirea. She blocked every single strike of the light sword, which seemed to fly in from different directions at once, then gathered her strength and struck back hard against an incoming blow.
Clash! Crash!
Knocking Calian’s sword aside with an ear-ringing crash, Demirea kicked off the ground. She knew that if she got caught up in the rhythm of that incredibly light sword, she would be at a fatal disadvantage.
Sensing her intent, Calian quickly recovered his blade and moved.
His figure vanished. Almost simultaneously, with a sharp whoosh of parting air, a razor-sharp attack flew in from Demirea’s right.
Realizing she couldn’t recover her sword in time, Demirea shifted her grip lower on the hilt and angled the blade upward. Holding her sword in a reverse grip, she blocked the attack aimed at the right side of her neck, then moved again.
Ring!
By the time the light resonance of the clashing blades faded, the dark red afterimage had blurred and vanished. Calian had vanished along with it.
Demirea spun in the opposite direction.
Gripping her sword with both hands, she thrust toward Calian’s shadow with unmistakable fighting intent.
Whoosh…!
Her swing whipped up another heavy gust of wind. As if to neutralize it, Calian angled his blade, redirecting the immense force behind her heavy sword down into the ground.
Swish! Clang!
A light sword is advantageous for recovery. The blade, dripping with darkness, immediately changed direction and flew toward Demirea.
A heavy sword has no need for recovery. Instead, Demirea channeled even more power into her descending blade, spinning her body rapidly to slash diagonally toward her opponent’s shoulder.
Crash!
The heavy impact sent a deep, resonant crash echoing through the air.
"Faster."
An inexperienced fighter would have dropped their sword from that blow, but her opponent was Calian. Pointing out that she lacked the speed to compensate for her deficit in strength, he leaped toward the heavy sword that was once again challenging him to a contest of power.
The sword in his hand moved as if scattering dead blood in all directions.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Every shadow of his sword, striking in a relentless torrent that seemed to defy the limits of speed, was filled with murderous intent.
Cl-cl-clash! Clang!
Knowing that not a single one of those countless shadows was an illusion, Demirea held her sword high and began to deflect the attacks with short, precise parries.
Even as she felt the solid impact of each block, Calian’s sword struck from different directions without recoil, making it incredibly difficult to track with her eyes.
Whoosh!
A moment later, the tip of the light sword slipped through a gap in the wide barrier created by her heavy blade, slicing through the air.
Clang!
Just before the sharp tip of the dark red sword could reach her neck, Demirea snapped her waist back and blocked the attack with her sword’s hilt.
She had been swept into his pace before she knew it.
She couldn't keep up with this speed.
Instead of biting her lip at the expected disadvantage, Demirea gripped her sword so tightly she might have crushed the hilt and leaned forward, lunging straight at Calian.
Since she couldn't escape his attack range, she chose to dive inside his guard and slash at his exposed waist.
"Anyone can think of that."
You should be different, Demirea.
The unspoken reprimand followed.
Calian’s figure flickered like a wavering candle flame and vanished once more.
Her body reacted first to the sharp intent flying in from behind. Demirea spun around, thrusting her sword toward the blade that was, without fail, aiming for her neck again.
Clang!
A sound loud enough to shake the training ground floor echoed. They stood locked in place, having crossed past each other, their feet grinding to a halt with their blades pressed together.
After freezing for a fraction of a second, they both kicked off the ground simultaneously.
Dash!
This time, Calian threw himself toward Demirea, returning the favor for the close-quarters attack she had attempted.
Even without wrapping his body in aura, the strength of his naturally enhanced arms was by no means inferior to Demirea's. He forcefully pushed aside the silver sword blocking his advance and brought his blade down relentlessly.
Staring at the dark red blade flying toward the space between her neck and shoulder, Demirea twisted her sword with all her might.
Crash! Clang! Clang! Clash!
At the end of the flurry, both swordsmen took a step back, returning to their starting positions, only for their feet to move as one again.
Clang! Clash! Clash! Clang!
They had long forgotten the other two watching them. As if no one else existed, they stared only into each other's eyes, their interlocking swords flashing with sharp light.
Clang! Clang!
Calian’s sword, like embers burning in the dark, pressed in from all sides to devour the silver sword that sparkled with its master's conviction. Demirea, having chosen weight over speed, abandoned all thought of attacking and focused entirely on blocking Calian’s strikes as they targeted her vital points.
Swish! Clash!
Pulling back, Demirea raised her sword guard to block Calian’s upward strike, then twisted her hilt. Deflecting the attack outward, she stepped forward with her back foot and thrust toward Calian’s heart.
"Don't rush."
Even as he watched the sword tip aimed at his heart, Calian didn’t stop speaking, shifting backward ever so slightly.
The moment his red eyes met Demirea’s, he vanished from her sight.
Instead of trying to track a speed that was familiar yet impossible to grow accustomed to, Demirea pulled back her extended sword and spun, unleashing sharp attacks in all directions.
Clink!
As she thrust toward her left flank, she felt her sword tip strike something solid, accompanied by the sound of clashing metal.
Found him.
Not letting the opportunity slip, Demirea gripped her hilt and kicked off the ground. Leaping as high as she could, she poured her entire body weight into her arms and thrust her sword toward the spot where Calian was bound to land.
Crash!
Whether he had blocked it or simply allowed her to, Calian absorbed the heavy, flying attack and moved swiftly.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
The heaviest sword.
And the fastest sword.
The clash between the two, who practiced polar opposite styles of swordsmanship, continued without end. After deflecting heavy strikes aimed at his waist, shoulder, and thigh, the light sword would slash for its opponent’s neck, only to change direction and pierce for her heart.
Clash!
Dash! Clang! Clang!
Demirea blocked the consecutive strikes and immediately swung her sword, but Calian’s foot had already landed to her left as he thrust his own blade. It happened a split second after Demirea, anticipating his movement, had swung her sword to the right.
Calian was not where her sword was aimed.
The wrong direction. A hasty judgment.
It was the same mistake Franz had once made. Long ago, Kyrie had made it too. It was a fatal flaw born from attacking a predicted position because one couldn't keep up with the speed.
Instead of saying, "If you think too much, you die," Calian revealed himself from the opposite direction and let his sword slice through the wind.
Whoosh!
The pupils in her blue-gray eyes dilated fiercely, like those of a beast locking onto its prey.