Chapter 10
Chapter 10
First Meeting (9)
The training ground inside the mansion had originally been prepared for Yuki, but coming here now was never what she wanted.
With every step Elena took as she led the way, her silver hair swaying, the ground beneath her seemed to groan.
Behind her, Yuki’s face had already gone half blank.
"Ian... are you crazy? Why would you say that? Mother... Mother really cuts people down!"
"My lady, the stage has already been set. Don’t worry about me—just catch your breath."
I answered calmly, rolling up my sleeves.
Behind us, Kara, Millie, and even the mansion maids had gathered into a massive crowd of spectators.
At the center of the training ground—
Elena threw down two wooden practice swords.
"Pick one up. I’ll see for myself what this strength you spoke of is."
I slowly picked up a wooden sword.
It wasn’t my usual lazy movement.
The moment I gripped it, every joint and muscle in my body aligned to draw the most efficient line.
"...Oh?"
Elena’s eyes narrowed.
She saw it.
The moment I held the sword, my stance and center of gravity locked perfectly.
Just from that, she realized the boy in front of her was no longer a madman.
Boom—!
Elena kicked off the ground.
The floor dented beneath her step.
A simple straight charge, yet the sound of air tearing echoed across the training ground.
Even with a wooden sword, the sound was sharper than any blade cutting air.
Whoosh—
Too fast for the eye to follow.
Just as Kara was about to scream—
I tilted my head slightly.
"...!!"
A difference of a single sheet of paper.
The tip of Elena’s sword grazed past my cheek, sending a strong gust of wind.
Her follow-up horizontal slash came immediately.
I raised my wooden sword and slid along her blade, stepping back.
Clang—!
A clear impact rang out.
"...?!"
Everyone froze.
Ian had just handled the sword of an imperial hero.
No—he hadn’t blocked it.
He had evaded it.
"What... is this..."
Kara’s mouth hung open.
Millie dropped her handkerchief entirely.
"Ian... blocked the Duke’s attack? That Ian? That paper-thin boy?"
"Ian—!!"
Yuki’s relieved shout echoed.
"...Did you read it?"
Surprise flickered in Elena’s eyes.
I quietly rubbed my numbed wrist.
Even though it was wood against wood, the impact felt like being struck by a hammer.
I deflected it... but it nearly broke me.
And—
Her sword didn’t draw just one line.
From a single motion, dozens of trajectories branched out.
If I had been even a little slower in finding the final line, I would have been cut.
"...Ha."
A low murmur spread across the training ground.
Elena stared at the tip of her wooden sword.
There, faint friction marks traced the path I had deflected.
That single exchange—
Even with a wooden sword, her strike carried the intent to kill.
Her blade was one that had cut down thousands of enemies.
A sword meant for ending lives, not sparring.
And yet, a nameless village boy had read and diverted it.
"Interesting."
"It was luck."
"No. You read the endpoint of my blade and twisted your body."
I hid my trembling wrist behind my back.
Sweat dripped from my chin.
"The Castel sword style is domination. Not something to evade or block, but to crush and destroy."
Her voice dropped.
"You called it luck? That word no longer applies."
Elena adjusted her grip.
The atmosphere shifted.
What had been calm before a storm now felt like a mountain collapsing overhead.
A thin smile formed on her lips.
The smile of a predator encountering a worthy opponent.
"Yuki, I finally understand why you’ve been calling this boy every night."
"Mother... that’s..."
Yuki couldn’t finish her words.
She was the most shocked.
She knew I was strong.
She knew I could teach her.
But not to this extent.
Facing her mother—an imperial hero—and matching blows?
So what he taught me... was just the tip of the iceberg?
Her expression was conflicted—fear and pride mixed together.
"I’ll come again. This time, I won’t treat you as fodder."
Elena lowered her stance.
The temperature seemed to drop instantly.
Her presence took form—like a massive wolf looming over me.
Boom—!
The ground shattered again.
This time, her movement was different.
She vanished from sight.
I swung my sword behind me instinctively.
Crack—!
Sparks flew behind me.
She had already moved there, aiming for the back of my head.
Using the recoil, I spun and thrust toward her abdomen.
The shortest line. The smallest motion.
The only path I could draw.
But Elena knocked my blade aside and stepped in.
"Good instincts. But you lack experience!"
Her shoulder slammed into my chest.
Ghk—!
My breath stopped.
My body lifted into the air.
I tried to roll and create distance, but she followed like a shadow.
The spectators couldn’t even scream.
Kara stood frozen, mouth open.
Millie trembled with clasped hands.
Clack! Clack! Clack—!
Wooden swords collided endlessly.
My wrist had already lost feeling.
Her strength was a disaster.
Even deflecting with technique, the sheer force crushed against my bones.
I can’t hold any longer.
I swallowed the blood in my mouth.
A peaceful life?
That was already gone.
Now all I could do—
was land at least one decisive hit.
Fragments of the ground scattered in slow motion.
Elena von Castel.
She was a tidal wave.
And I was a fragile raft.
But even a raft can ride a wave.
As I dove into her range, her eyes widened.
It was a suicidal move—
one that sacrifices your own body to strike the opponent’s vital point.
"Suicidal!"
Her cold voice rang out.
But she did not hesitate.
She leaned back, then swung her leg.
Thud—!
A heavy blow struck my abdomen.
"Ghk—!"
My body folded.
But in that instant—
my upper body bent forward, bringing me closer to her chest.
The tip of my wooden sword traced a straight line toward her heart.
For that single line—
I chose death.
At the same time, my body was sent flying.
Rolling across the ground.
Cold, hard stone pressed against me.
My vision shook.
The metallic taste filled my mouth.
"Ian—!!"
Yuki’s scream tore through the air.
As the dust settled, I was revealed leaning against the wall, breathing heavily.
The wooden sword in my hand was shattered—only the handle remained.
"...Complete defeat."
I muttered weakly.
Of course.
Winning against an imperial hero was impossible.
But Elena did not look victorious.
"...?!"
Her eyes widened in shock.
She looked down at her chest.
There—
where my wooden sword had just grazed—
fine wooden dust clung to her clothes.
...It had touched.
If it had been a real blade—
and if I had just a bit more strength—
it would have left a shallow wound.
"Enough."
Her quiet declaration ended everything.
"..."
She slowly looked at me.
My arms trembled uncontrollably.
"Ian! Ian, stay with me!"
Yuki rushed to me, supporting me.
Her hands trembled.
Not from fear of her mother—
but from fear that I might die.
Idiot.
"My lady... please send me the bill for your clothes later..."
"Stop saying stupid things! Is that what matters right now?!"
Tears welled in Yuki’s eyes.
Kara and Millie approached, stunned.
"..."
Elena stared at me and the broken sword fragments.
"Move aside, Yuki."
Yuki hesitated, then clung tighter.
"Mother... Ian did nothing wrong! I forced him!"
"I said move."
Under Elena’s pressure, Yuki stepped aside.
Elena approached me.
She nudged a broken sword piece with her foot.
"Yuki. How much did you know about this boy’s strength?"
"...I knew he was stronger than me..."
"No. Not that level."
She walked closer.
"At that moment, you weren’t a village boy. You were a warrior trying to cut me down. That strike—accepting broken ribs to land a hit—that is something seen only on battlefields."
"I just didn’t want to get hit. My body moved on its own."
"Boy... no, Ian. Where did you learn the sword? Who is your master? Your movements and efficiency—none of the empire’s styles resemble it."
"...You probably won’t believe me, but I’m self-taught. Really."
She picked up my broken sword handle and laughed softly.
"You are weak. Your strength, your mana, your physique—all below average. But your technique—and how you use it in real combat—has already reached the level of a master."
She looked over the stunned crowd.
"Ian is to be moved inside. Call the family’s personal healer and treat him with the utmost care until he recovers. And—"
Ah... I can’t hold on anymore.
"...I-Ian!!"
I wonder if Millie will handle the funeral flowers.