Second Seat (3)
The sun hung high and proud, scattering its light and driving off the lingering chill of early spring.
The central plaza was already so packed with spectators that their collective heat made the air feel muggy.
About ten meters apart, Leon and Esabel faced each other with swords in hand.
Chiiing!
Leon's Heaven-Shattering Sword caught the sunlight and flared with a dazzling radiance.
Martial arts students who recognized the blade's worth gasped in admiration one after another.
"Whoa—a first-year already has a sword like that?"
"He's the young master of the Crusif family, you know."
"Even so, isn't that a bit much?"
"The Duke must dote on his son something fierce."
Before anyone quite realized it, the image of Duke Crusif as a father overflowing with paternal warmth had begun to take root among the crowd. If Rock—who had, for all practical purposes, had his sword stolen by his own son—had heard any of it, his blood pressure would have skyrocketed.
Standing between Esabel and Leon, Instructor Melmorn opened his mouth. He was serving as the official referee for the duel.
"A ranking match on the very first day of enrollment. Full of fire, aren't you? Youth really is something."
With the face of a man who had long since been ground down by office life, he cast protective barrier magic over Esabel and Leon. The teal mana of a sixth-circle magician spread outward, wrapping carefully around their entire bodies.
"Plenty of new students here, so I'll go over the rules one more time. No targeting vital points or anything that could threaten a life. Absolutely no follow-up attacks once a barrier breaks or an opponent surrenders. And finally—accept the result cleanly."
Having clawed their way through brutal competition just to enroll, Elprime's students carried their pride high, and it was not uncommon for them to whine and refuse to swallow a loss.
Melmorn glanced around as if to ask whether they understood. When his eyes met Esabel's and Leon's, both nodded.
"Good. This duel is certified by Instructor Melmorn Varieti. If any objections arise, come to me."
With that, Melmorn casually waved a hand.
Chiiik!
A circle of flame bloomed in the air between Esabel and Leon.
"It starts when the spinner disappears. Good luck."
Those were his final words before he withdrew to a safe distance.
Chiiiik!
Like a loading spinner, the red line gradually burned away along the circle.
Through the vanishing ring of fire, Esabel's and Leon's eyes met.
Leon smiled brightly at her.
"Your Highness, I look forward to a good match."
"Hmph."
Esabel snorted softly at the sheer shamelessness of it. She had already gotten a fair measure of Leon's brazen personality.
Chiiiik!
Watching what little flame remained, Leon clicked his tongue. Naturally, he had no intention of losing this duel.
Billy, I'll make sure you can live in peace!
If he held the second seat firmly, Billy would have no reason to fight ranking matches at all. (Within the top ten, ranking challenges were only permitted against the person one rank above you.)
Leon had zero desire to go pick a fight with Billy just to snatch the top seat. He needed to avoid giving Billy any stimulus whatsoever and slow his growth—at least until he himself had definitely caught up.
Chiiiik!
Less than a quarter of the spinner remained.
"……"
"……"
In that taut silence, both swordsmen quietly drew up their auras.
Jziiing!
When Leon gently fed mana into the Heaven-Shattering Sword, a faint sword-hum rose from the steel.
Chiiik—crack!
Then, with one last fat spark, the spinner vanished.
Pababbat!
Esabel stepped lightly left and right, her footwork nimble and springy as she charged first.
"Oh."
Leon let out a murmur of genuine admiration at those mysterious, lightning-quick movements. Just from that alone, it was obvious—she was the strongest opponent he had ever faced.
Katseut!
Closing the distance in a flash, Esabel's sword swept upward on a diagonal. Leon tilted his body hard the other way while driving his front foot into a true step.
Kung!
Mana exploded from his toes and shook the earth; Esabel's center of gravity wavered for a fraction of a second. Leon seized the opening and began to swing.
Kang! Kagagagagang—!!
Dozens of exchanges in the blink of an eye. Esabel caught every one of Leon's rain-like strikes with precise, economical motion.
"W-what just went past?"
The lower-ranked new students, still green, could not even track the exchange properly.
"…Did I just see that right?"
"Insane. Already at that level at their age."
"Oh—so that's the Crusif family's…!"
Upperclassmen could not hide their astonishment at the freshmen's performance, and the instructors' eyes glittered.
Fifteen seconds had passed, and the initiative still belonged to Leon.
Kwang! Kwang! Kwangkkwang!!
His attacks came so relentlessly one had to wonder whether he was even breathing—and with every second they only grew stronger.
What the hell is this kid!?
Receiving that endless cascade of steel like a waterfall, Esabel was stunned. Her face stayed composed on the surface, but inside she was badly shaken.
Kaang! Kwang! Kwangkkwang!!
There was a limit to consecutive strikes. Yet not only had they continued for more than thirty seconds—the force behind them was steadily climbing. That was clearly abnormal.
"Keuheuheu!"
Leon charged again and again, laughing like a madman. The thought that he might keep this up until he simply collapsed from exhaustion sent a chill crawling down Esabel's spine.
Kang! Kangkang! Chiit! Kang!
Normally, burning this hard at the start meant your strength would fail you later. Yet his stamina was so absurd that the power in his blade only increased, and its edge never dulled in the slightest.
I can't keep going like this.
Esabel bit down hard on her lip. Being pushed back without answer did not suit her temperament. She had to acknowledge what deserved acknowledgment. For all his unpredictable personality, Leon was an outstanding swordsman. To beat him, she would have to go all out.
Kang! Chiiiik!
Using the rebound from a hard clash, she retreated a long distance—and the light in her eyes changed.
Halt!
Sensing the shift with uncanny instinct, Leon stopped his charge and took a step back.
Sharp bastard.
Esabel shuddered at his snake-like cunning. She adjusted her stance and assumed the opening form of the Grand Emperor Sword. From the blade raised high, a domineering flow of mana poured forth. The arrogant aura of a ruler pressed down heavily on Leon.
This was the real thing.
Facing Esabel's Grand Emperor Sword—something he had only ever read about on a page—Leon licked his dry lips once.
"Haap!"
Esabel let out a short shout and charged. A heavy blow like a mountain itself came crashing toward him.
Huuuuuk—!
This is insane!
He could not block that. He had to dodge or deflect it.
Chiit! Chiiing! Chaeng!
Leon stepped like a madman, glancing her sword aside. The situation had flipped one hundred and eighty degrees. Having completely seized the initiative, Esabel pressed him relentlessly. Leon slightly furrowed his brow at the impacts racking his body. The wrist and shoulder holding his sword ached as if they might break. An incomprehensible weight rode her blade. Against the refinement of the Grand Emperor Sword—regarded as the very pinnacle of swordsmanship—Leon was forced helplessly backward.
Kaang! Chaaeng! Kangkang!
A sword built by the imperial court's martial scholars through countless research, refinement, and trial and error. Even attacks that looked simple at a glance contained profound and complex principles. Watching Leon start getting thoroughly beaten the moment Esabel revealed her true skill, the crowd clicked their tongues.
"As expected, he can't match Her Highness…"
"Hmm. He burned too much stamina early on."
"He got too excited. Emotional control is a basic virtue for a martial artist."
Bullshit!
At the criticism drifting to his ears, Leon instead curled the corners of his mouth upward. Right now his senses were sharpened to the extreme.
Huuuk. Huuuk. Haa. Haa.
He could hear both his own breathing and hers.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The steady beat of their hearts laid down a rhythm. Esabel's sword, which had felt so inscrutable, began to come into clear focus—foot position, the movement of shoulder and wrist, gaze, breathing, the flow of mana. Everything resolved into clarity, and he could predict what attack would come next.
In the end, swordsmanship was simply a continuous sequence of fixed forms. The talent he had gained by selling his soul to a demon had raised his understanding of the blade to the absolute limit. Leon felt the fight growing easier and easier. He was already placing his sword where Esabel's attacks would land.
Chaeng! Chaeng! Chaeng! Chaeng!
Sword met sword, the metallic ring echoing in a steady cadence like an instrument being played. It looked almost like watching two actors perform a carefully staged scene.
"…Wh-what?"
Feeling as if she were simply hammering away at a shield, Esabel's face flooded with bewilderment. A gap opened for Leon, who had been carefully reading the rhythm.
Now!
Leon's eyes blazed red.
Kuuuuuu!
The mana within his body surged like a tidal wave, racing through his circuits. He controlled every joint, every tiny muscle, forging the optimal posture. He poured the bomb-like energy on the verge of exploding straight into his sword—and fired.
Jecheon Sword Style — First Form
Yeomyeong — Dawn
Shiiiiik!
The upward slash, swift as a ray of light, severed the gap between their blades.
Flash—!
From the tip of Leon's sword, a brilliant sunset poured forth like the sun illuminating the dawn.