Owl Knight
Jamhonseongjonbeop. This is the spiritual energy cultivation method you will master, Young Master.
Clank—.
The knight came to a halt before Leon.
"······."
He was tall enough that Leon had to look up. His helmet hung at his waist, leaving his face bare. His head was shaved clean, his eyebrows thick — a face that looked as if it had been chiseled from a stone statue and fixed in place. The meticulously maintained armor was a deep, dark hue, scored with vivid crimson stripes like decorative markings. The weapon at his side was a double-edged greatsword that looked immensely heavy even at a glance.
A deep, resonant voice emerged from between thick lips.
"I am Parsus Mongbel, Owl Knight of the Deron family. I request a sparring match with Young Master Leon of the Crusif family."
The arena stirred. The spectators' attention sharpened at once — enough to completely forget Ursus, who had been sent flying out of the banquet hall. At last, a true powerhouse had appeared.
Deron, one of the northern border territories of the Empire. From the Deron Mountains that encircled the region, ferocious monsters poured forth day and night, year-round. And above those mountains, the borders of both the Republic and the Beastman Nation overlapped. The land was already barren and frigid, and enemies threatening the territory never ceased. Naturally, the Deron family had no choice but to grow strong simply to survive.
The knights who served as the Deron family's shield, sword, and guardians — the Owl Knights who protected Deron's nights — were renowned throughout the entire Empire.
Owl Knights, huh.
Leon had heard of them as well — those who roamed the territory through the small hours of the morning, hunting down nocturnal monsters. And indeed, meeting one in person, that reputation seemed well-earned. It was less a man standing there than a killing machine. Even his gaze was different. Every piece of his equipment had been broken in like an extension of his own body.
This was the real thing. An active knight. Warriors tempered by countless real battles. Slaughterers optimized for crushing their enemies.
"A pleasure, Sir."
Only then did Leon feel his focus lock into place. His drifting consciousness settled. Until now he had been half-playing, treating it like a game — but now he would have to take this seriously.
Parsus spoke.
"Young Master."
"Speak."
"In Deron, we practice a somewhat different form of sparring."
"How so?"
"Once both parties have agreed to duel, the principle is that each must draw out their full capabilities without holding back."
"You mean a life-or-death duel?"
"No. Killing one's opponent is of course forbidden, but neither party may declare surrender. The fight continues until one of us loses consciousness. I would like to request a Deron-style sparring match with you, Young Master."
"······."
What the hell is this guy's deal?
At first Leon wondered what scheme this might be, but Parsus's demeanor as he spoke was far too earnest.
Is he serious? He wants to beat a Crusif young master senseless?
In short, it meant fighting with sword qi and Sword Threads until one of them blacked out. A rather barbaric form of contest — not the sort of proposal one casually made to a duke's son.
Just then, Carotin, the son of the North, sent a telepathic message.
— The men of Deron do tend to be a bit rough around the edges.
— ······Is that so.
Meaning this was genuine, with no hidden agenda. Just a man who purely loved to fight? The world was vast, and full of lunatics.
Leon nodded readily.
"Very well. Let's do it that way."
"······! Thank you."
Parsus bowed his head, his face brightening. There was no real reason to refuse. It would be a bit more dangerous, but when had Leon ever cared about that? If anything, it made things more interesting — and the spectacle would be better for it, too.
Parsus stepped back about twenty meters. Clank. He donned his helmet and lowered the faceguard.
Gooooong—
Fully armored, a formidable aura began to form around him. His energy and armor resonated, becoming one — as if fused with his body itself.
Pazzzzzzt—!
Reddish-brown mana surged across the surface of his armor, enveloping his entire form.
Leon realized something.
······Come to think of it.
This bastard came in full gear? It had been so natural he hadn't registered it at once. Even the knights attending as family escorts normally wore only dress uniforms and a sword inside the banquet hall. Apparently he had scrambled to gather his equipment after seeing the sparring matches begin.
Knights almost invariably trained in Armor Arts. Simply put, it was the technique of handling armor — assimilating the defenses covering one's body so they could be used as naturally as one's own flesh. It was a skill that formed a major pillar of a knight's combat power.
"······."
Leon, by contrast, was bare-bodied.
No shame at all?
Proposing a serious duel while geared up like that. Perhaps Parsus was inwardly angry.
"······Are you ready?"
Parsus shamelessly raised his greatsword into a low guard. Amber eyes gleamed through the faceguard.
Well, doesn't matter, I suppose.
Thinking this, Leon assumed a suitable ready stance. Then he focused inward, drawing up his aura through his body and core. In an instant, his entire body — dantian, meridians, and all — activated.
At the same time.
Jamhonseongjonbeop
First Stage: Release
Leon recited the formula of the spiritual energy cultivation method Baekyeon had taught him.
······.
He grasped a still-unfamiliar sensation of the soul — a kind of sense that could not be expressed through the five ordinary senses. It was like touching a melody, like seeing coldness, like hearing a bolt of lightning. Spiritual energy was that elusive and hard to pin down.
In any case, he was now directly facing his essence — his soul. As he continued to recite the formula and raise his will, the "power" that had been sleeping within awoke.
Cheonryeong.
The spiritual energy of higher dimensions. The power of beings who had accumulated vast spiritual rank and reached the heavens. In other words, the power of gods.
He awakened the Cheonryeong that had been dormant in his soul. He brought forth what had been inherent within. That was the first stage of Jamhonseongjonbeop: Release.
Flash!
Along with a surging sense of omnipotence, Leon opened his briefly closed eyes and focused on Parsus before him.
"······!"
It was immediately after that Parsus's nerves went taut. His muscles locked and a chill ran down his spine. Tension.
What is this?
Leon's aura had transformed in an instant. An uncanny nobility radiated from him. A vast, oppressive pressure bore down steadily on Parsus. Faced with a sensation he could not identify, Parsus was clearly shaken. His composure wavered.
Leon murmured low.
"I'm ready."
"—Hup!"
Bang!
The moment the words left his mouth, Parsus launched his body forward. He mastered the heart that had wavered for an instant with boiling fighting spirit. Hesitation, reluctance, fear — emotions he must never show before an enemy. He could not tarnish the name of the Owl Knights before so many watching eyes.
Mana condensed and exploded, trailing reddish-brown afterimages. The mass of his massive frame, full-body armor, and greatsword combined was truly terrifying.
Tap—!
Yet separately from that, the steps he took were light and free. No heavy whoosh of air. It meant he was a martial artist who perfectly controlled both his energy and his body.
Thud!
Matching his charge, Leon's Neungcheongong unfolded.
Parsus put force into his eyes. Thanks to the previous challengers, he knew well how miraculous that footwork was.
······I can see him!
Fortunately, because he had prepared thoroughly without letting his guard down, he did not lose track of Leon. It truly was ghostlike movement — so fast it raised goosebumps, and even his presence vanished. No wonder his opponents had been eliminated in a single exchange. Had Parsus not developed his eyesight hunting the monsters of the dawn, he surely would not have been able to keep Leon in his sight.
Shhhrrring!
Sword Threads wound around Parsus's blade. Reddish-brown Sword Thread completed in the blink of an eye.
Pazzzzt!
Matching him, Leon wound his own Sword Thread. A deep blue sword-light was added to his elongated form.
Parsus was not surprised. He was ninety-nine percent certain Leon had reached the upper Expert rank. Nothing else could explain that level of skill.
The distance they had put between them became meaningless as the two Sword Threads closed to point-blank range in a mere instant. Of course, that instant was an endlessly stretched span of time for the two involved.
The first clash. Parsus launched a probing strike he had planned in advance — a light diagonal cut starting from the upper left. In his homeland, they also called this the "Catching Cut."
Gooong—
The tip of the sword twisted. The heavy greatsword moved as lightly as a feather, drawing an arc. The trajectory it traced included Leon's right shoulder and chest.
······But the next moment.
A majestic dawn light bloomed along the path the greatsword would take.
Jecheon Sword Style
First Form: Yeomyeong
"!!!"
Parsus's eyes widened as if they would tear.
Even faster—
—KRAAAAAANG!!!
The knight's body was sent flying helplessly backward.