Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: White Sun Eclipse
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If I fight, I'll lose.
If I run, I'll be caught.
So, I had no choice but to persuade him with words.
While chattering nonstop, I repeatedly refined and revised the plan in my head...
The fragmented information I knew about the man named Keian, the deeds I'd heard through rumors, the impression I got from seeing him in person, and the values I could infer from it all.
I combined and reviewed these things in my mind dozens of times.
And from that, one relatively certain fact emerged.
‘The Collector, Keian, is a strict man of principle.’
This man is not one to be swayed by sentiment.
If it's an order from his superiors, this old man can plunge a dagger into anyone.
In that case, that's the angle I need to exploit.
Because he has sworn loyalty to the Bednickers,
I will use the doubt that arises from his obedience to his superiors' commands.
Of course.
“…The creation of a sword art.”
The truly important part starts now.
“You speak of absurdities.”
The Collector's cold gaze turned to me.
In the past, Keian's skill was unclear, as if shrouded in mist, but now I could see it to some extent.
Putting aside all the fancy expressions and modifiers, my conclusion is that he's a monstrous old man.
It's only natural, really.
In the first place, the position of Collector cannot be obtained or maintained without strength.
‘It's not like the targets of collection are all half-cripples like me.’
Strong warriors who have mastered the Bednicker family's arts, skilled fighters from other families aiming for them, mercenaries who would wipe a corpse's ass for money...
Collection must be carried out on them without exception.
And Keian is among the top three of that skilled group.
Meaning, he's a monster among monsters.
“Absurd? If you're of Bednicker blood, you're required to create at least one or two of your own martial arts.”
The Bednickers are a peculiar family in the empire in many ways, but they have one particularly hard-to-understand custom.
Anyone bearing the Bednicker name—whoever they may be—must develop their own martial art before coming of age.
There are no exceptions to this rule.
If you fail to create a martial art, you are stripped of all the rights you enjoyed as a Bednicker.
“Of course, I still have time before I come of age, but my second brother created his martial art around this time, so it's not that strange.”
At the mention of the Iron-Blooded Duke's second son, Keian's gaze grew even colder.
“Young Master.”
“Yes.”
“How old are you now?”
Suddenly?
Though puzzled, I answered.
“I'm fifteen.”
“At your age, Young Master Hector had already created seven sword arts.”
“...”
So he was just trying to put me down.
“From a young age, he showed unparalleled talent in martial arts. He would memorize any move he saw once, and by the next day, he could replicate it perfectly. At just eleven, he spoke of improvements to the family's secret sword arts, and some of his suggestions were actually implemented.”
Among the Iron-Blooded Duke's children, three in particular stand out, and that guy Hector is, of course, one of them.
Meaning, he's so successful it's almost embarrassing to compare him to my current self.
“I have served the Bednicker family for many years and have experienced many people. It seems that time was not wasted, as I've developed a decent eye for talent.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Are you, Young Master Ruan, equating yourself with Young Master Hector?”
I couldn't help but burst out laughing.
“Of course not.”
“In that case—”
“He's beneath me.”
How absurd.
I admit, Hector is impressive.
Not just him; all of the Iron-Blooded Duke's children are extraordinary.
The eldest son, Hiiro; the second son, Hector; and the second daughter, Nero, are especially exceptional among them.
In the past, I looked at them with awe. Even after becoming a scoundrel, my ears always followed the rumors about them, and when I was consumed by my inferiority complex, I intentionally kept my distance.
But now?
‘I've seen true geniuses.’
On Spirit Mountain, watching my martial brothers, I nearly lost heart so many times.
I learned for the first time that there are people in this world who cannot be defined by the word 'genius' or even described by the word 'monster'.
Keian, who had been staring at me blankly, let out a blatant sigh.
“You will have to take responsibility for those words.”
“What?”
“Get up.”
His expression was serious.
If I were to say, ‘I don't think I can stand,’ I got the feeling he would reply, ‘Is that so?’ and then sever my tendons. So, I got out of bed without a word.
“...Ugh.”
Standing on my own two feet, a groan escaped my lips.
Seeing myself like this, my body was in a much more pathetic state than I'd thought.
It wasn't just from the beating I took from the butler. My usual debauched lifestyle was a bigger cause.
“Do you have a sword?”
“A sword? You mean a blade?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose I have one?”
“Please take up your sword.”
Naturally, there was no sword in this room, so I had a servant fetch one.
“Do you mean a wooden sword, or a real sword?”
“A real one.”
“Hic...”
The servant flinched at Keian's nonchalant reply. He then scurried out and returned shortly with a sword.
As I took the sword, I thought.
‘He doesn't even ask what it's for.’
Then again, members of the family don't technically have the right to stop a Collector's enforcement.
“Draw your sword and swing it.”
“What?”
“Three downward slashes will suffice.”
I was starting to get annoyed, but for some reason, I had a feeling this would be his last demand.
With the sword still in its scabbard, I sliced through the air three times.
One, two, three.
Just three times.
“...”
Keian watched the process with a deliberate expression, then asked.
“Young Master, what do you believe is the most important thing in the martial arts?”
It was a rather interesting question.
It was a question with no real right answer, but by hearing the response, one could get a glimpse of the other person's philosophy on martial arts.
‘I could just state my own thoughts.’
But for some reason, I felt that wouldn't be the perfect answer.
Keian, the Iron-Blooded Collector.
A man who has proven his loyalty and worth to the family for decades.
A man who has been on active duty for all that time.
What kind of answer would this man find most satisfactory?
“Practicality in a real fight.”
“...”
“No matter how brilliant a martial art is, it's meaningless if you can't use it in a real battle.”
“From whom did you learn that?”
“It's just a thought that came to me while reading books and training on my own.”
I was a little surprised myself by the words that came out of my mouth.
I was about to lie to score points, but what actually came out was a half-and-half mix of my own thoughts and the answer I had prepared.
“...”
Keian stared at me with his sunken eyes.
He seemed to be trying to see through the true meaning of my words.
‘Stare all you want. You won't see what's inside me.’
When I put my mind to it, I can play innocent so well that even my master would have his doubts.
Though I'd later get caught with evidence and beaten like a dog on a hot summer day.
“If that is what you believe, then this will be quick.”
*Shing.*
The dagger that had briefly disappeared popped out again.
Keian ran a gloved finger along the dagger's edge and spoke.
“As you said, the most important thing in martial arts is practicality. A sword art that cannot be used in a real fight is worse than a sword made of woven straw.”
“So you're going to test it yourself? To see the practicality of my sword art?”
“I apologize, but yes.”
I was running my mouth precisely because fighting him now would mean certain defeat.
Just as a small sense of doubt crept in, wondering if it had all been for naught.
“Of course, this will not be a conventional spar.”
Keian continued.
“I will take your skill level and condition into account.”
“How.”
“The movements you just displayed when you swung your sword—I will not move any faster than that.”
So that's what that was about. He had me do it to measure my movements.
If he sticks to his word, it provides a minimum level of fairness, but...
“...”
I looked at Keian.
I hadn't shown him all my cards, but I had a feeling the same was true for Keian.
There were still many questionable things about this old man.
However.
“Fine.”
If I didn't accept this offer, he would carry out the collection. That much was certain, so I nodded.
It was a matter where I had no choice from the beginning.
And of course, I know why.
It is a simple principle, a truth of the world.
Because Keian is strong, and I am weak.
Unfortunately, this is a world where the weak rarely have choices.
So...
I wanted to praise myself right now.
Regardless of the process, I had managed to draw the desired result from a stronger opponent.
* * *
The words 'creation of a martial art' must have provoked Keian in some way.
It's obvious this old man has invested a considerable amount of time in training.
Yet, the reason he doesn't show any displeasure is, as I mentioned, because Keian is a man who strictly separates his public and private affairs.
*Shing—*
I drew the sword from its scabbard.
Then, as if appraising it, I scanned the entire blade.
The edge is a bit dull, but it's a real sword.
A sword more than capable of killing a man, provided the skill is there.
I could tell from its weight the moment I held it, but seeing it with my own eyes was reassuring.
“Tell me when you are ready.”
Keian said.
His gestures and tone remained as polite as ever.
I tossed the scabbard onto the bed and tried lifting the sword with just my right hand.
“...”
It's heavy.
And awkward.
In my previous life.
Even after the tendons in my right arm were severed, I could not forget the Bednicker martial arts.
I never even tried to forget.
For me, who had been effectively exiled from the family, the family's martial arts were the last link connecting me to the Bednickers.
During my days wandering the continent, this martial art underwent its own changes at my hands.
Should I say it was modified into a form suitable for a one-armed man?
Of course, it wasn't professionally overhauled, but rather a crude form altered for the sake of survival.
You couldn't even call it a creation.
If anything, I could have had the tendons in all four limbs severed for insulting the main family's martial art.
However.
- What is that clumsy movement?
- Oh ho. So you've adapted an existing martial art to a form that suits your body.
- It's plausible enough, but it's time to discard it. I have fixed your right arm, after all. Look. It moves perfectly fine, doesn't it?
The martial art I am about to demonstrate was not created by me alone.
- There are too many unnecessary movements. Your breathing is wasteful. It's full of openings.
- How many times have I told you to drill the distance between you and your opponent into your head? Shaping the forms of your techniques comes after that.
- In a fight, controlling the distance is the most important thing. If you can always keep in mind how many steps, how many breaths it will take to reach your opponent, you won't be killed in a single blow even against a powerful foe.
A martial art created with my master's advice.
I suddenly became curious.
How will the Iron-Blooded Collector judge this martial art I'm about to show him?
“Let's begin.”
The moment I muttered those words, I had the illusion that the surrounding lights had dimmed slightly.
It might not have been an illusion.
As the air grew heavy and the lights flickered ominously...
Keian began to move.
His movements were incredibly slow, yet strangely, the distance between us was closing in large strides.
‘Is it because of that peculiar gait?’
His movements are slow, but his actual speed is fast.
Isn't this the perfect technique for killing a dazed opponent in a single breath?
‘Seems like a useful technique.’
Of course, this was no time for admiration, so I kept my focus on Keian's movements.
Finally, when the distance between us was about two and a half steps...
I struck first.
Keian easily dodged my simple thrust, doing nothing more than slightly tilting his head.
Dodging an attack with minimal movement is a feat impossible without precisely predicting the opponent's offense.
My ambitious first strike missed, but I didn't lose heart and continued my fierce assault.
I thrust and slashed repeatedly, even swinging the sword like a club.
Without letting any attack land, Keian steadily closed the distance.
Soon, a strange scene unfolded.
I was clearly the one attacking, and Keian was merely evading, yet somehow, I found myself being the one backing away.
*Thud.*
At some point, I was driven back to the wall, but until then, Keian's clothes weren't even slightly disheveled.
The distance was too close to swing a sword anymore.
Keian stood before me, his imposing frame a full head taller than mine, exuding a pressure that was hard to ignore.
“Hah, hah...”
This damn body.
Just from swinging the sword a few times, sweat was pouring down my entire body.
Half-exhausted, I looked up at the old Collector.
“I had some expectations.”
“...”
His voice was filled with many emotions, and it felt as though Keian was revealing them intentionally.
This old man had no intention of hiding the deep disappointment that lay beneath his dry voice and emotionless eyes.
“But in the end, it was all just a facade.”
I gritted my teeth and swung my sword.
Swinging a sword at such close range, I could have injured myself, but I didn't care.
*Thwack!*
My wrist was caught.
This old man's hands were as large as his frame; they completely enveloped my pathetic wrist with room to spare.
*Squeeze.*
“Kuh!”
His grip.
The searing pain in my wrist forced me to drop the sword. With a clang, the dull blade fell uselessly to the floor.
*Whoosh!*
A fist came flying next.
I didn't see a dagger, so it was his left arm. The speed was manageable, so I twisted my shoulder slightly and dodged the punch.
Then, Keian opened his extended fist and grabbed my shoulder.
*CRACK!*
My shoulder bone screamed.
This old man's grip is vicious.
Is he trying to dislocate it?
“I have seen enough of the sword art you claim to have created. If you have not yet named it, perhaps I, Keian, could offer a suggestion.”
“...”
“How does 'Straw Sword Art' sound?”
Perhaps because of his pride in martial arts.
For a rare moment, I could sense a hint of ridicule from this expressionless old man.
Keian took out his watch again, sighed, and spoke.
“I have wasted my time. It is late, but I will now carry out the collection. Stay still.”
The moment Keian's face became that of a Collector, I burst out laughing.
“Straw Sword Art. A funny name. But, Sir, when did I ever say I created a sword art?”
“Are you trying to waste more time with meaningless talk?”
“I just want to correct your misunderstanding. What I created was a fist art.”
*CRACK!*
Keian's jaw shot upward.
The difference in our builds, the extremely close distance, and the inevitable blind spot it created...
As if that wasn't enough, I also had a strategy.
The most necessary element for the weak to defeat the strong.
In other words, I induced my opponent's carelessness.
“...!”
Even as his head was knocked toward the sky, Keian did not panic, reflexively flailing his hands.
He would surely regain his composure in a second at most, so I didn't miss this chance and continued my assault.
In succession, I struck his chest, solar plexus, and abdomen.
*Th-th-thud!* At the fluid, natural combo, Keian's body finally took a step back.
Even so, there was still strength in the hand gripping my shoulder.
Not bad.
I jabbed Keian's inner elbow with my fingers. As expected, the part of the human body where muscles cannot be trained was soft.
*Thwip!*
My fingers sank in about a knuckle deep.
Keian let out a short groan, and the strength in his grip vanished.
After that, it was a swift conclusion.
I pushed the still-dazed Keian's chest with my palm to knock him down, then snatched the sword that was rolling on the floor...
...and aimed the tip of the blade at Keian's throat.
“...”
The Iron-Blooded Collector was staring at me with wide eyes.
“Your naming sense is pretty terrible, Sir.”
“What...”
“This martial art already has a name.”
And I calmly spoke it.
The World's Greatest, Baek Rogwang.
The name of the martial art created with my master.
“It's called the White Sun Eclipse.”