Gerard's Tournament (4)
The crowd had eyes, too. And the kind of spectators who would push through a sea of people to cheer in person? They had especially sharp ones. That was why no one could deny how absurd the scene they'd just witnessed truly was.
“WOOOOOAAAAH!”
“Seo Hwarang! Seo Hwarang!”
“Long live Brandeeeeel!”
Quite a bit of time had passed since the fight ended, but the roars showed no sign of dying down.
“He took down 4th Circle Paige in one hit?”
“And he didn't even use anything special, did he?”
“I mean, I couldn't see a thing! The lift-off looked like Wind Blast, sure — but what spell was that that sent her flying out of the ring like that?”
Ah, yes. These really were people of the magic continent. Even the ordinary spectators had remarkably well-trained eyes for magic. To identify a Wind Blast in that split second!
“They said he cut through the Iron Wood dummy clean in two — he's clearly no ordinary talent.”
“How did a prodigy like that end up in Brandel of all places?”
“You don't think he's a former academy professor, do you?”
“Haah, could it be I'll finally live to see Brandel take the championship?”
“Let's not count our chickens yet. It's only the round of 16.”
Amid that thunderous fervor, Yoo Seon-ah stuck out her thumb at him.
“You absolute lunatic.”
She'd known he was a monster, but somehow his control seemed to have gotten even better lately. At this rate, was he really going to win the whole thing?
Come to think of it, Seo Hwarang's true mettle would only reveal itself once he got his hands on proper skill books. Even his 1st and 2nd Circle magic packed this much punch already. What would happen if he picked up a 6th or 7th Circle grimoire? Of course, high-circle spell books couldn't be found on Earth either. On Earth, the mere appearance of anything above 3rd Circle would have awakened hunters swarming in a frenzy. Maybe the United States or China would start buying them up with national funds?
“Hmmm.”
Thud.
Seo Hwarang sank into the representative's bench and let his mind wander. So how strong am I, exactly? His opponent had been 4th Circle, and he'd won with 2nd Circle spells easily. No, actually— honestly, he hadn't even needed to go up to 2nd Circle. If he'd felt like it, 1st Circle magic alone would have been plenty to cook the woman. The mages of the Etherion Continent seemed weaker than he'd expected.
Well, I do have an S-rank class. To fight him on even footing, wouldn't his opponent need to be S-rank too? In terms of Earth's awakeners... a 7th Circle mage. And a Sword Master. Those two realms of power were exactly what an S-rank should be.
I guess I really am broken, huh.
He'd heard enough from Bella about the standing of those two realms. Barely a handful of people on the entire continent reached them, and a 7th Circle mage in particular was honored with the title of Archmage — the imperial family granted them a noble title on the spot, or so she said.
“Hoo.”
Seo Hwarang let out a short breath. The truth was, he didn't know. Whether he could actually beat a genuine Sword Master.
“Hey, hey.”
It was then that Yoo Seon-ah crept up behind him and whispered right into his ear.
“Hm?”
“I'm liking where this is headed.”
Liking what, exactly? What feeling?
“Stop going easy on people from here on out. End every match in one hit. Totally, absolutely overwhelming.”
“...Why?”
“I was thinking — do we really need to trudge all the way to the capital on foot?”
“Huh?”
“Use this chance to catch the Duke's eye, obviously. Honestly, wouldn't getting chummy with the Duke be better for snagging skill books than enrolling at the Academy? And it's not like we can just waltz into the Academy the moment we reach the capital anyway. Besides, there might be an even easier way to get there.”
Oh... huh? Now that she mentioned it, that could work. Catching the eye of one of the continent's Three Great Dukes? There'd be some degree of risk, sure, but if they played their cards right, they might gain something far greater. Like books. Or books. Or books...
Plus, if it was Waldheim — the battle-specialized house among the Three Great Dukes! Wouldn't its vaults be stuffed to the brim with secret martial manuals?
“Okay.”
This proposal actually whetted his appetite. Let's do it. With everything he had!
The quarterfinals.
WHAAAAM! His opponent went flying out of the ring.
The semifinals.
WHAAAAAAM! Another one-strike finish.
Anyone who made it to the semifinals had to be considerably skilled, but before the Master-grade Arcane Missile, all were equal. By now the cheers had stopped entirely. Only the Brandel side kept screaming like maniacs; the expressions of the spectators in the other camps had steadily curdled into blank disbelief.
“What... even was that.”
“Was that actually a duel? The gap's just too wide.”
“I don't think he used any high-circle magic, though.”
“It's more like the quality of his magic itself is on a different level.”
“...That's possible?”
“No idea. Even an Orthodox Mage shouldn't be that far ahead.”
Naturally — their own city's champion had been knocked out in a single blow, so complaints were inevitable.
On the other hand—
“WAAAAAAAH!”
“Another one-strike finish!”
“A mage of one strike has appeared in Brandel!”
“Incredible. I've got goosebumps.”
“Mommy, when I grow up I'm gonna be a mage like that!”
Brandel had gone utterly berserk. Everyone was on their feet, waving and dancing, weeping openly. And even — the commoner-born butler and Count Lowell were hugging each other tight, bouncing up and down.
Are they really that happy?
It didn't feel bad, though. It was probably something like the way people back home rejoiced every time the national team made it to the World Cup.
Seo Hwarang strolled leisurely down from the stage. Only the finals remained. The original Brandel representatives had all been eliminated.
“How was that, my lord?”
At his question—
“Ah, yes! Go on, go take the secret manuals! All five of them!”
“Right now?”
“No, you fool! Not now — the championship! Win it, I say! You must win!”
Count Lowell had known Seo Hwarang was remarkable, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he'd be this good. My ancestor would understand. This is for the glory of Brandel, after all. The old man had been right. If Seo Hwarang kept up this level of impact, the ancestor would smile brightly and nod along. Secret manuals or not — he'd surely be told to take whatever he pleased.
“Well. Since it's come to this, I suppose I have no choice but to win. I can't let those books slip away.”
Seo Hwarang saw no need for false modesty. Humility was something you deployed with an eye to the situation... Being humble when you'd already floored everyone in sight wasn't humility — it was mockery in disguise.
I'll give the next match my all too. Then collect the next skill book. For now, he decided to think of nothing but that.
Before the finals, a light performance was held for the crowd. While the spectators enjoyed the show, Count Lowell and the butler poured every ounce of their attention into Seo Hwarang.
“Your opponent is a swordsman from Gravis. Rumor has it he's a mid-tier Sword Expert.”
“You must be careful, I beg you. The man's nickname is the Mage Killer. Specializing in repelling magic is the pride of the Gravis house.”
However much the two of them fussed, Seo Hwarang paid it no mind. I can't get worked up over this. The way one knows whether a lump is excrement or soybean paste without tasting it — Seo Hwarang could feel it instinctively. None of the entrants here was his match. His head was instead packed full of a single question: how to run his combos so the finale looked overwhelming while killing no one.
“Master Mage! Fighting! I'm so, so proud of you!”
“Show them one more, you brat.”
Bella and Yoo Seon-ah cheered him on with all their might, and before long—
“Representing Gravis — Calix!”
The call for the finals rang out.
“And representing Brandel — Seo Hwarang!”
“WAAAAAAAH!”
“WOOOOOOAH!”
Amid the eruption of cheers, Seo Hwarang rose from his seat. Right. Let's win this one nice and easy.
Hmmm.
Seo Hwarang clenched and unclenched his fist, over and over, his gaze fixed on the man before him — one Calix.
Mid-tier Sword Expert, is it? That would be B-rank by awakener standards. The man was staring him down without blinking a single time, whether as some kind of contest of wills, and Seo Hwarang stared right back without yielding an inch. The cheers at the sight of them swelled even louder.
Yeah, I think I get the feel of it now. The Mage Killer, was it? A faint-hearted mage might well have wilted under those eyes and failed to cast anything properly. Not that mages were vulnerable to close-quarters assault in the first place.
“Arrogant bastard.”
Calix growled, stoking his momentum. “Maybe the trash you've met so far folded easily, but I'm different.”
A provocation, delivered with a threatening glare.
Mm. Naturally, Seo Hwarang remained perfectly serene, entirely unmoved.
“Different how?”
“The moment this starts, I'll close the distance and smash my flat into your gut — make you puke. Then I'll make you beg, crying, to surrender.”
“......”
Seo Hwarang understood why the man was talking like that. He was trying to rattle him and seize a tactical edge. But all Seo Hwarang took from it was the word gut, carved neatly into his mind. Guess I'll have to give that spot a proper beating this time.
“Right, thanks for the tip. So when does this start?”
Seo Hwarang stretched leisurely and glanced at Leon. The man gave a nod.
Whoosh — his arm rose into the air, and the instant the declaration fell—
“The duel begins!”
Fwoosh, fwoooosh! Four Firebolts.
Vmmm! Twenty Light Arrows, ten Arcane Missiles.
And then—
Crackling! Five Ice Needles, floating into the air.
It was the finals, after all. Surely he could afford to put out a bit more than he'd been using?
“None of that will work on me!”
Like a hunting hound loosed from its leash, Calix kicked off the ground and lunged at Seo Hwarang. His outfit, too, was cunningly made — armor that looked to be wrought from Iron Wood.
So what. Didn't matter. If anything, better. It just meant he could put a little more force into his attacks.
FWOOSH!
The moment Seo Hwarang flicked his hand, every scrap of power hanging in the air came crashing down toward Calix at once.
“Hngh!”
Calix gritted his teeth. I punch through. Mages were weak up close — all he had to do was tank the ranged spells. Just needed the willpower and the defenses to endure them. That was all it took for—
“K-kuhak!”
In that instant, a heavy impact slammed into his abdomen.
W-what spell hits this hard—?!
Stacked 2nd Circle Arcane Missiles. Their power exceeded anything Calix had imagined.
I-I'll endure it! He bit his tongue and forced himself forward, staggering toward Seo Hwarang's gut with his blade —
CLANG!
“Ugh?!”
A powerful rebound knocked his sword away. Magic Shield. And then—
RRRRUMBLE...!
A Rock Shield rising from the ground beneath him to boot.
“Hm. If you can shrug this much off... maybe I should push a little harder.”
And then, without warning—
Ting!
Seo Hwarang snapped his fingers. Lightning burst from the gesture, and—
RRRRUMBLE...!
With a roar of thunder, the sky darkened.
Th- Thunder Strike!
Horrified, Calix dropped his sword and heaved a massive fist toward the sky. Rubber gauntlets — engraved with a magic absorption enchantment. Gear built precisely to block lightning magic of this kind.
But—
WHAM!
Once again, his abdomen — no, to be exact, the spot where his liver sat — took an Arcane Missile square on.
“G- guhak?!”
Wait, it wasn't the thunderbolt?
Blinded by searing pain, his raised hand came crashing down. His instincts had moved to guard his stomach. And in that moment—
FWOOOSH!
Two thunderbolts came crashing down. Not on Calix — but on the ground to his left and right, where he stood between them. His jaw hung wide open. If something like that had been allowed to land on the crown of his head? He'd have died on the spot.
Watching Seo Hwarang shrug his shoulders, there was no doubt about it — the man had been going easy on him all this time, and then some.
“A- aaah...”
And to the jaw hanging open on his face—
WHAM!
The finishing Arcane Missile connected.
CRASH!
Foam at his mouth, Calix toppled backward and lay unconscious.
The tournament named for Gerard Waldheim — the continent's youngest Sword Master. Its grand final, too, drew to a hollow close. With the championship going to Seo Hwarang.