Chapter 26
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Hirate Hikage (1)
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“Wooden swords feel a bit dull, so let’s use real blades without edges.”
“Sure. Whatever...”
Il-yeong drew the sword the samurai had brought just a fraction. “Without edges” meant it was sturdy enough to slice through flesh if sharpened, and getting hit by it would hurt like hell.
Clack. He sheathed the partially drawn blade again and turned to Shibata Katsuie. She was already tying back her golden hair and taking a light breath. Anyone could see she was dead serious.
Because of that, Il-yeong stretched casually while scanning the surroundings. They had moved to the training grounds not far from the meeting hall, so there weren’t many onlookers.
‘I don’t wanna do this...’
He truly didn’t want to. Just because he’d been dropped into the Sengoku era didn’t mean some warrior’s pride or honor would suddenly surge within him. He could fight on the battlefield to survive, but this kind of sparring was nothing but a hassle.
Still, there were plenty of reasons Il-yeong had no choice but to step up. Refusing would brand him a coward and slight not only his adoptive father, Hirate Masahide, but even Nobunaga herself.
‘Plus, I’d end up the guy who kills her, no question.’
If he weren’t an adopted son—or at least the second son of some prominent family entering the Hirate house—he might have wiggle room. But Il-yeong was an outsider from the start. Naturally, it’d give perfect ammo to those who already disliked him.
But the real problem was...
‘Even if I lose, they’ll bitch about it. Damn it.’
Losing wouldn’t change the level of backlash much. Sure, winning would end it... but how the hell do you beat her?
This was the woman called Oni Shibata. In a world where female warriors were no slouch compared to men, her skills wouldn’t have dulled. The blade wasn’t sharpened, so no death, but she was still terrifying.
“Then, shall we begin?”
Shibata Katsuie spoke from behind her mask, preparations complete. At the same moment, she kicked off the ground and charged straight at Il-yeong.
‘Fast!’
He couldn’t help but be shocked. Too fast—way too fast. Blink and she was already right in front of him.
Thump.
His heart pounded. The awkwardly gripped sword righted itself as if his body knew better, every cell in him waking up.
‘Different from the battlefield.’
On the battlefield, countless killing intents and desperate deaths painted everything red. Here, it was solely Shibata Katsuie. The world blurred around her.
Facing hostility aimed purely at him, he swallowed hard.
‘Not so fast I can’t dodge.’
Judging, he twisted his body on instinct. Her blade grazed his chest by a hair, then arced back through the air toward her. Il-yeong didn’t miss the opening.
“Hup!”
Swallowing a short breath, he ducked low and dove into her guard. He drew and thrust upward at her chin.
“Hmph.”
A voice laced with strange delight rang in his ear. Goosebumps prickled; he tried to pull back his sword, but it was too late.
“Guh?”
In that split-second blink...
Her shoulder loomed right before his face.
‘What the...!’
He tried to evade desperately, but his judgment came a beat late.
Thud!
A short, powerful impact slammed his chest. She’d targeted his solar plexus precisely with her shoulder thrust, while stabbing forward at his throat.
“Y-Young master!”
Itsuki’s belated shout reached his ears. Even in this moment, Il-yeong couldn’t help a smirk. Young master now, huh?
“That was fun.”
Time seemed to slow. Her blade had half-sliced, nearly touching his neck; his body tilted backward. He wouldn’t die, but he’d hurt bad. However...
‘Annoying.’
Her voice dripped with subtle disappointment and superiority, igniting his irritation. In that instant, his body moved on its own.
Too late to stop the fall.
So then.
“Kuh!?”
A bladeless sword was nothing. He grabbed it with his hand and yanked. Her stance faltered for a moment; Il-yeong pulled her in.
“Wh-what?”
She hadn’t expected him to grab and pull her sword. Katsuie snapped to belatedly, bracing her legs. But it was futile.
Bam!
“Ngh!”
They tumbled backward, Katsuie landing in Il-yeong’s arms.
“Wh-what?”
So flustered by ending up in a stranger’s embrace? Her voice betrayed her masked expression as she shoved him away urgently.
And that split-second fluster...
Gave Il-yeong time to catch his breath and reset.
Ptoo.
Il-yeong spat out the sand in his mouth, furrowed his brow, and grumbled.
“That last attack—if it’d hit, you’d have been speechless for weeks at least.”
“...You dodged it.”
“Barely. Nearly got me.”
Having been held in his arms once, Shibata eyed him uncomfortably for a moment before charging again without a word.
Clang—!
Of course, Il-yeong gripped his sword too. Their blades met, filling the grounds with sharp metal shrieks.
Blades clashed. But they didn’t separate—instead, they twisted like serpents, probing wrists, arms, throats, hearts, heads, faces.
Block a throat stab, and the shoulder comes. Block the shoulder, solar plexus next; block that, and the gut gets slashed.
They were landing more hits than blocks, slashing each other countless times. If edged, the ground would be soaked in blood.
‘What kind of spar is this...?’
The watching samurai felt it most acutely. Normal spars end after gauging strength. These two were going for the kill.
But what shocked both sides’ samurai most was Il-yeong. Hirate Hikage’s swordsmanship was unexpectedly fierce.
“N-No way...”
Itsuki muttered blankly, forgetting to call him young master. Until now, he’d pictured Il-yeong as a handsome, lazy Korean playboy. That image went straight in the trash.
And Shibata Katsuie felt the same.
‘Fun... this is it!’
The corners of her mouth lifted under the red oni mask. Her beautiful face flushed hot with excitement and fervor; her heart raced wildly.
The earlier mishap of being in his arms was forgotten. She welcomed his strikes as ecstatic pleasure, clashing swords madly.
The sand-and-dirt-packed grounds were churned by their footprints; their sweat vaporized into the air.
How long did they hack and batter each other?
As if by agreement, they slowly withdrew their swords and stepped back, breathing lightly.
“Hoo... huu...”
“Hah... hah...”
Arms numb, fingertips trembling, flanks already swelling. Yet they didn’t stop, regripping slowly, ready to charge.
Instinct told them.
This clash would be the last—one, or both, would hit the dirt.
“......”
“......”
A brief—or endless—standoff.
“Tch.”
The moment someone exhaled sharply.
Thud-thud—!
Crisp footsteps scarred the earth as they lunged simultaneously. Il-yeong thrust upward at Shibata Katsuie’s throat; she slashed diagonally at his gut.
“D-Danger—!”
The stunned onlookers sensed the killing intent and shouted.
“Tch.”
An irritated tongue-click echoed across the grounds.
Bang!
A thunderous crack like lightning rang out—
“Kuh?”
“Hup!”
Sand exploded between their feet with a whoosh!, halting their blades mid-thrust.
‘This sound...’
Snapping to, Il-yeong turned slowly. A low voice followed.
“Who said you could spar?”
Locking eyes, Nobunaga handed the smoking matchlock rifle to Yoshinari. But one thing was different.
“Hirate Hikage.”
Her face held unusual anger as she stared at him.