Chapter 42
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Protagonist (2)
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Lee Han assumed his sword stance. A form honed through thousands, tens of thousands of repetitions.
He swallowed hard.
Deron Phillasia. The man before him twitched his fingers.
"Come at me."
A taunt inviting him in. But Lee Han didn't bite.
'If I rush in, my stance will collapse.'
Just as it takes only a few seconds for a withered tree to fall once severed.
Even after tens of thousands of drills, it crumbles in mere seconds.
So Lee Han drew in a breath.
Composure. The most crucial and fundamental mindset for wielding a sword.
He wouldn't fall for Deron's provocation.
On the contrary, he grew even more steadfast.
Endless training meant nothing if mistakes happened in real combat.
It would negate all the time he'd invested.
Lee Han didn't want that.
Like in the Morax subjugation battle. He'd lost his composure before an unfamiliar demon.
A swordsman without composure couldn't even tell where his own blade was headed.
'I should have been there instead of Agnes.'
A magic swordsman had taken the swordsman's place.
Agnes Bayern had perfectly filled his role.
That fact gnawed at Lee Han's heart.
Fighting spirit.
Jealousy.
Shame.
The desire to grow stronger.
Trivial emotions sank beneath his composure.
Right now, he needed to focus on the opponent before him.
Deron Phillasia.
The man who severed Morax's neck and gave Agnes that experience.
The aura rising from his body brushed against Lee Han's skin.
Chilling. Deron's black eyes had always been like that, even from their first meeting. An eerie sensation somewhere.
A strange feeling. His body trembled fiercely. As if facing another species entirely.
Fist.
Deron had said he'd use his fists.
Not his main weapon, the sword.
Lee Han gritted his teeth to stop the shaking.
Deron's choice was one of two things. Either he was underestimating him, or showing consideration.
If it were their first encounter, he'd have thought it was disdain.
His reputation within the academy wasn't great, after all.
But having gone through the spring festival and the Morax subjugation together, Lee Han could judge objectively.
'He's showing consideration.'
Deron was being considerate toward Lee Han. It was obvious he couldn't match him with the sword.
Imposing a handicap on himself to start the spar.
Lee Han didn't like that fact.
"Not coming in?"
Deron stomped his leading foot. A heavy thud. A sign he was coming in. Strength entered Lee Han's eyes as he tracked Deron's movements.
"Then I'll come to you."
Bam-!
A sharp whoosh of air. Deron's fist flew toward Lee Han. A light punch.
Lee Han was startled but ducked his head slightly to dodge.
Faster than expected. His gaze shifted to the other fist.
The extended punch would take time to retract.
So if a follow-up came, that fist would move.
Lee Han's judgment wasn't wrong.
The problem was.
Grip.
"Announce it if you're staring at my fist. Make it obvious."
His opponent was Deron.
A being beyond ordinary judgment.
A monster far exceeding his imagination.
Deron spread his extended fist and wrapped it around Lee Han's nape.
At the same time, he raised his hand to grip Lee Han's head.
Thud-!
"Guhk-!"
In that position, Deron drove his knee into Lee Han's abdomen.
Lee Han gasped, struck squarely in the stomach by the knee.
The pain was worse because it was unexpected.
"A swordsman, against a fist fighter."
Thwack-! Whoosh-!
Deron's fists cut through the air. Lee Han barely dodged them.
He tried to prepare a counter, but.
"You think I'll give you distance?"
Deron wasn't that easygoing.
He was someone who could wield both fists and sword.
Which meant he knew the exact distance between a swordsman and a fist fighter.
Blame.
'At this rate...!'
He couldn't swing his sword properly due to the range. Even if he did, it lacked power.
Lee Han quickly created distance. Planning to reset his stance and regain momentum once apart.
But.
"You think I'll let you pull away?"
Deron wouldn't miss that.
He closed the gap Lee Han had created in an instant.
Rendering the separation meaningless.
'Palm?'
Deron's open palm filled Lee Han's vision.
He panicked momentarily and tried to regain sight, but.
Thud-!!
Deron wouldn't miss that moment.
His fist landed in the exact same spot as the previous knee strike.
However, Lee Han wasn't pushover either.
The instant the fist came, he twisted his body to reduce the impact and struck Deron's arm with the pommel of his sword.
Not the blade, but the hilt's end made a fine blunt weapon.
Deron winced and retracted his arm.
"Hoo."
"Guard's down."
As Deron pulled back his arm, he struck Lee Han's jaw with the other. Exploiting the brief gap as Lee Han caught his breath.
He'd read it perfectly.
"You too."
Lee Han wasn't one to take a hit without retaliating.
If his jaw was struck, he had to hit back at least as hard.
Smack-!!
He raised his foot and kicked Deron's head. A crisp impact sound rang out, and Deron staggered back.
"......"
A brief lull. Without any agreement. The two exchanged glances.
"Want to keep going?"
Deron spoke first.
He swept back his disheveled hair. Covered in dust from Lee Han's kick.
Deron brushed off the dirt while asking Lee Han.
With a faint smile.
"Doesn't look like we can continue anyway."
"Hahk... hahk."
It was true. Lee Han kept gasping for breath. Even moving was hard. A pure physical fight without mana.
Deron hadn't used his sword either. Fists. A weapon he might not even be skilled with.
Yet Lee Han had lost.
Miserably.
Unhappy with that fact, Lee Han forced himself to stand.
An overwhelming skill gap. The thought that victory was impossible.
Still, Lee Han gripped his sword. Maintaining composure, envisioning a serene lake.
"Let's go again."
Deron let out a hollow chuckle at Lee Han.
Yet his fist remained clenched.
"Yeah, that's the spirit."
Deron stomped again. A thunderous step like lightning. In contrast, his light fist was like the wind.
Strength entered Lee Han's eyes.
He charged as if done waiting for Deron.
'Distance.'
One realization from the previous exchange.
The range between fist fighter and swordsman.
Deron knew it, but he hadn't. As long as he didn't let the fist fighter into extreme close range.
That alone would suffice.
Whoosh-!
The sword advanced. Maintaining a set distance, beyond the fist's reach.
The sword could reach.
Deron ducked to dodge and closed in, but Lee Han never yielded range.
Thud-!
"Kuh."
Lee Han's strike blocked Deron's charge. Deron crossed his arms in an X to parry the sword, grimacing.
'More.'
To keep Deron at bay. Lee Han's strikes continued. Continuous. Unbroken, as if that was the key.
Lee Han's sword kept heading for Deron.
Whoosh. Whoosh-!
Not landing precisely. Deron's eyes tracked the blade. Darting as if not missing a single one.
But Lee Han didn't care.
His body screamed. Breathing was labored. Eyes dry.
Arms numb. The continuous sword swings. Muscles crying they'd reached their limit.
Knowing that, Lee Han pushed his body further.
If the chain broke. If it faltered even once.
Deron would close in for sure.
The glinting black eyes confirmed Lee Han's guess.
He wouldn't yield. Even in a spar. He wanted to win.
Formless Sword Style 2.
Chain.
One strike births another. Even if the advanced sword cleaved air.
His arm felt like it would shatter. Lee Han sensed he'd hit his limit.
Crunch.
The sound from his arm. Yet the sword didn't stop. Didn't want to stop. Lee Han kept swinging.
"Tch."
Deron clicked his tongue. His gaze on Lee Han. Face twisting as if displeased.
"This should be enough."
Deron, who'd been blocking with solid parts like arms or shoulders, shifted stance.
He lowered slightly and opened his palm. At the same time, the aura enveloping the area changed sharply.
"If you can't block it, redirect it."
The essence of Redirecting Flower Accepting Wood. Deron's palm slid up Lee Han's blade. Gently deflecting its path.
Slap-!
Using the flow, he struck Lee Han's sword-wielding wrist, disarming him.
Lee Han saw the profound technique in that simple motion.
'Someday... me too.'
Lee Han sensed his defeat. No strength left to endure.
But he didn't give up. Even seeing the overwhelming realm before him.
His eyelids closed on their own. He didn't resist. Thus, his vision faded.
"What the hell!"
The moment I heard the crunch, my eyes went wide.
I knew he was overdoing it.
It was the sound of bone breaking. Or at least an injury on par.
How hard do you have to swing a sword to make that noise.
Truly the protagonist, but tough as nails.
I was struck anew by what a protagonist was.
A being who gains enlightenment mid-spar and grows immediately.
Is that what they call genius?
Can it even be explained as genius?
I don't know.
I looked down at Lee Han, snoring softly with eyes closed.
A frame slightly more slender than average male. But sinewy muscles that forbade dismissal.
No one who sees his hands could deny his effort.
Protagonist Lee Han was undoubtedly a hardworking character.
'Why isn't he pretty?'
[You into that?]
'No.'
I deadpanned at Arxius's joke, then hoisted him onto my back.
Overworking your arms like that and passing out—what do I do with you.
Go get hospitalized like me.
Imagining Lee Han stuck in the hospital lifted my mood. Smiling broadly, I left the training grounds.