Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Defeat the Villainess
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Once again, he found himself in the training grounds.
A place so familiar from treading its floor endlessly.
Ision lightly raised his arm to check his condition.
Perhaps because he'd already sparred with Carnokt earlier.
His body felt nicely warmed up— in good shape.
But this time, his opponent was the Lady.
The next Sword King, blessed with what could proudly be called the greatest talent in history.
Against her, "good shape" wouldn't cut it.
His condition had to be not just peak, but perfect.
'And the Lady's eyes are brimming with anticipation.'
No one her age could match her anymore.
Disappointment piled up, and hope turned to resignation.
For the Lady, who hadn't felt this excitement in so long.
As her Exclusive Knight, he naturally had to live up to it.
Ision raised his sword and exhaled lightly.
Aura flowed from his entire body, infusing his flesh and radiating his presence.
"Hoo."
A short exclamation escaped Butler Bor Gang.
Just a year ago, Ision had been at the 1st Circle Resonance stage.
Yet in one year, he'd skipped two stages to reach 3rd Circle Manifestation.
Even within the Ban Pellion family, it was astonishing growth.
'But.'
That alone wouldn't defeat Ser Noxia.
In response to Ision, a sword-red aura began to emanate from Ser Noxia as well.
Behind Ser Noxia, fierce currents spread like wingless afterimages.
The air grew heavy, and even the surrounding dust and light trembled faintly in its flow.
Just from revealing her aura, a presence on another level entirely.
4th Circle Shaping.
If 3rd Circle merely cloaked the body in aura, 4th Circle allowed attacks with the aura itself, extending beyond length and range.
At this point, a swordsman's reach limitations were drastically reduced.
At just ten years old.
Reaching 4th Circle at this age was something even one among the Ban Pellion family's past heads had achieved.
Anyone standing before Ser Noxia felt fear.
A star-like talent that seemed to devour everything.
Few could keep their minds intact before it.
Anyone's eyes would waver.
The moment Bor Gang glanced at Ision, his own eyes widened instead.
No emotional turbulence from Ision at all.
He'd grown since last year, but Ser Noxia had grown far more.
If crossing from 1st to 2nd Circle took 1 unit of time.
Then 2nd to 3rd was 10, and 3rd to 4th was 100—an immense gap.
So Bor Gang had thought Ision might feel his talent's limits facing her aura.
But not a hint of emotional stir.
'Did he already know she'd grown this much?'
Impossible.
Even Bor Gang, who'd long served the Ban Pellion family, couldn't predict her growth.
Ision, who hadn't been glued to her side all his life and had only just become her Exclusive Knight—how could he know?
'Then does he have such unshakable confidence that he feels no gap even seeing the Lady?'
Bor Gang recalled the Ision he'd first seen that day.
He'd sensed an unusual boy, but not one with such steel nerves.
At least Ision's odds of victory had slightly improved.
Nothing doomed defeat like freezing up from the gap in power.
'Moreover.'
That sword he'd just noticed.
It didn't look like an ordinary blade.
Faint crack-like patterns on the hilt.
Not signs of damage.
'What did he bring?'
Some variable he'd prepared to face the Lady?
An ominous aura emanated from it, whatever it was.
Still, his chances of winning remained slim.
Genius crushes even when mortals pull out all stops.
Whether Ision's light could reach Ser Noxia was uncertain.
"Come at me whenever you're ready."
Then Ser Noxia spoke first.
Arrogant words to hear.
But only she could afford to yield the first move.
A courtesy to the challenger.
Ision knew it well.
With his sheath at his waist, Ision gripped his drawn sword.
The moment she yielded first strike, he kicked off without hesitation.
Ser Noxia's sword grip was artistically perfect.
Even without force, the tip quivered faintly, as if already plotting its path.
Ision's honest thrust.
A strike honed well in training.
Ser Noxia lightly swung her blade, parrying and deflecting his.
Not a light sword, yet it barely affected her.
Proof her deflection was flawless.
Ision's strikes followed in rapid succession.
Each heavy with power.
But Ser Noxia's blade flowed like water, deflecting them all.
Through it all, her feet never moved once.
From her spot, she deflected every attack with sword alone.
A gap transcending mere skill—innate genius.
To the eye, just a small girl.
But clashing swords revealed the towering wall she truly was.
That was the next Sword King candidate, Ser Noxia Ban Pellion.
Ision's sword flow hesitated.
Like tiring against an unbreakable mountain, no matter how hammered.
That brief opening.
Ser Noxia didn't miss it.
The moment she stepped forward, even the air aligned.
Offense and defense flipped in an instant.
One slash from Ser Noxia.
A simple horizontal cut, yet compressed with thousands of strikes.
Her aura-infused blade could shatter a knight's sword.
At this point, Ser Noxia held nothing back with her blade.
Only one path to evade.
But Ision didn't take it.
As always, he reacted deliberately half a beat late.
As the blade neared his side, he twisted and kicked the ground.
Clang!
In that instant, sword fragments buried in the dirt flew up, blocking Ser Noxia's view.
An utterly unforeseen variable.
This training ground was where he'd fought Carnokt just minutes ago.
The fragments were from Carnokt's sword that Ision had broken.
A variable Ision knew, Ser Noxia didn't.
In that split-second variable, his sword surged from below upward.
Clang—!
Ser Noxia's blade met it precisely.
Perfect response despite the sudden twist.
Genius doesn't falter at variables.
Proving it, Ser Noxia's eyes sharpened instantly.
Scold him for using the trick?
No such thought crossed her mind.
Instead, her eyes ignited at this fresh sparring she'd never tried before.
She usually stayed composed, but Ser Noxia was born a fighter.
The moment she drew her sword, she reveled in it more than anyone.
A living incarnation of the blade.
A very brief exchange.
In it, Ision proved himself.
That he would absolutely entertain Ser Noxia.
She transitioned instantly to counterattack.
Relentless thrusts, shifting-angle slashes, suffocating pressure.
Ision kept retreating.
Even as he fell back, he deliberately unbalanced himself, stumbled his feet, muddled his breath.
Ser Noxia's eyes narrowed.
'He's luring me.'
The realization hit, and suddenly Ision tripped.
A perfect stumble, as if on a stone.
Thud.
Ser Noxia's blade followed instinctively.
Knowing it was bait, her finishing strike shot out anyway.
In that moment, something blocked her vision.
The metal ring from his sheath.
Ision had thrown gear he'd deliberately loosened.
The ring aimed straight for Ser Noxia's face.
Faster than her blade could reach.
And the aura on it gleamed clear.
Impact to the forehead promised concussion and blurred vision.
She couldn't let it hit.
Instinct twisted her head and blade aside.
Thud—
Beside Ision's head.
Ser Noxia's sword plunged into the ground.
The instant he hit the dirt, Ision swung not his sword but his fist at her ankle.
Just before his fist met her ankle.
Ser Noxia used her grounded blade as a springboard and leaped lightly.
She evaded the punch, but the sword's weight drove it deeper into the earth.
A fleeting moment—the blade pinned to the ground.
Ision was already moving.
Rolling, he drew his sword upward.
Like a dragon ascending to the heavens.
The blade targeted the airborne, defenseless Ser Noxia.
It wasn't a knight's sword.
A knight's blade was honest, perfect, clean.
Ision's was dirty, messy, nothing but variables.
Yet Ser Noxia knew all swords were beautiful.
And that swords existed to take lives.
A sword's most beautiful moment was victory alone.
Defeat held no beauty.
Ser Noxia's red eyes flashed.
Aura surging from her body compressed into her blade and erupted.
Her sword, originally longsword length.
Its aura edge extended in an instant, smashing the ground and surging up.
Ision's blade, missing Ser Noxia, sliced empty air.
Ser Noxia shot skyward in a flash.
Midair, she detonated her condensed aura.
Her body spun opposite the explosion.
Rrrrumble!
The immense force crushed the ground as her blade rose back to earth.
Ground shards pelted Ision's body.
Simultaneously, Ser Noxia's great aura sword assaulted him.
A merciless strike to cleave him bodily on contact.
Before that blow.
Ision leaned forward.
Any normal person would have retreated, but he chose otherwise.
His sword met the great blade's flat.
Amid the erupting aura sparks, Ision stomped the ground hard.
Boom!
Ision dashed along the great blade's surface amid the explosion.
Their distance shrank in a heartbeat.
Ser Noxia was falling, still in her swing's pose.
Only Ision stood firm on the ground.
Obviously advantageous for him.
In that instant, Ser Noxia's aura snapped off, her great sword vanishing.
Instead, her hand gripped a blade condensed with sword-red aura.
Still pre-landing.
Without footing, she couldn't unleash full power either.
Yet a chilling sword surged toward Ision.
The oppressive rush of sword-red currents.
A mere thrust carried wind pressure through the air.
Before it.
Ision's sword moved.
Lowering his stance to the limit, planting his feet, dragging his blade to his shoulder with his full weight.
Thoom!
The moment their swords overlapped, wind pressure swept the surroundings.
Ser Noxia's eyes widened.
A perfect defensive technique blocking her blade head-on.
Even she would have parried it just like that—flawless execution.
Ision's strengths weren't just variables.
He too wielded genius-level perfect swordsmanship.
Ser Noxia couldn't help but admire it.
Unaware that this perfection stemmed from her.
This technique was one she'd personally taught him in the past.
And to that perfection.
He layered another variable.
Clang!
Ision pressed forward, their guards clashing and locking.
As their distance reached its limit.
Smack!
Ision headbutted her face.
A dull thud.
A red mark bloomed on Ser Noxia's forehead as her head snapped back.
It could've torn skin, but she'd tilted back to lessen the impact.
"Hah."
A short laugh escaped Ser Noxia.
"Urk."
A groan leaked from Ision.
Her knee had precisely embedded in his solar plexus.
If he countered with variables, so would she.
True to genius, she adapted even to tricks.
Both retreated simultaneously.
Ser Noxia clutched her forehead; Ision his stomach.
Drip—
Blood trickled from Ision's hand.
Obviously.
A 3rd Circle facing 4th head-on couldn't disperse all the shock; his skin tore.
Pure gap in power.
Yet Ision gripped his sword tighter with his bloodied hand.
The dripping blood soaked the red hilt, making sword and hand one.
Seeing it, Ser Noxia stood tall.
Her red eyes, dulled by Ban Pellion life.
Now shone brighter than ever.
"Ision."
"Yes, Lady."
"Give me everything you've got today."
In that moment, pressure crushed the training grounds.
The presence rising behind Ser Noxia's shoulders formed a massive beastly silhouette, silent yet more menacing for it.
"I'll give you everything too."
Ision felt his breath catch.
Had she grown even more in this instant?
True genius—unfairly so.
But what could he do?
He'd stolen a regression just to serve this Lady.
Ision unleashed his own presence, gripping his sword firmly.
"Don't regret it."
The full might of an Exclusive Knight who'd served a genius for fifteen years.