Chapter 194
Chapter 194
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 194
Chapter Title: Martial Dragon Grand Tournament (3)
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Hooo—.
A quiet breath bounced back off his face guard.
Kagagang—!
Even as he heard the daggers scraping across his full-body armor, Gunter's expression showed no urgency or bewilderment.
It was serene, instead.
Gunter gazed at his foe with calm eyes.
‘…Strong.’
It seemed the title of 4th in the 48th Cohort wasn't a lie—Hys was indeed powerful.
‘But…….’
Gunter recalled the lessons from Johan.
[The height of one's realm is a crucial factor in deciding victory or defeat, but the winner doesn't always possess the higher realm. Sometimes you get your ass handed to you by someone weaker. Especially in fights between scrubs—that's where it shows up the most.]
Low-ranks lacking experience tended to rely on their mana reserves, magical power, and flashy techniques they loved to show off.
Johan had put it this way.
[Guys whose heads aren't fully baked think that if the opponent's weaker, they can just bulldoze them with brute force. Why? Because it's the easiest way. Why rack your brain dealing with some scrub when you don't have to?]
And then the follow-up explanation.
[Which means, on the flip side… even if you're the weaker one, use your head right and you can topple someone stronger. Hell, that's always been the weakling's specialty—racking their brains to win.]
Johan had said that especially in fights between low-ranks, results where a 1- or 2-rank gap got overturned happened all the time.
However……
[Well, not just anyone can pull it off. Either you're born with it like Yury, or… you gotta study your ass off.]
[Study? Studying's no big deal. See a lot, hear a lot, think a lot—that's studying.]
The "studying" Johan talked about was simple—stuff anyone knew.
That accumulated experience eventually becomes blood and flesh.
The straight truth passed down since time immemorial.
When Gunter gave him a somewhat dumb look after hearing that, Johan shot him a look of utter disdain.
[Everyone knows it, anyone can do it… so how much have YOU been doing it?]
And Gunter finally understood why Johan had given him that scornful gaze……
While spending time with Yury's group.
Yury, Theresia, Poppi, Arin.
Beyond quests, personal training, and fortress-building, they sparred like real combat every single day.
Yury and Theresia led those spars.
Arin and Poppi grumbled but joined in, giving their all until they were dead on their feet.
The sight shocked Gunter.
‘Sparring like that every day…….’
He'd thought his own grueling routine was tough, but it was purely solo training.
Gunter reflected on his past actions.
‘Come to think of it, since joining Yuram, have I ever sparred with anyone?’
Outside quests—had he ever purely for training crossed swords with fellow cadets?
‘None… at all.’
Thinking back, he'd sparred more with other knights back in his family.
Of course, he had excuses.
Adapting to Yuram.
Doing quests.
Figuring out how to eat and survive.
All sorts of reasons why he had no time.
Sure, time was tight to some extent.
But Yury Holland must've been the same.
No—even busier, always topping the rankings.
Yet he carved out time from nowhere to spar without fail.
‘Even Yury, with talent Johan himself acknowledges, grinds spars daily to build experience… while I…….’
The shock hit Gunter hard; he clenched his fist tight.
He immediately declared he'd join their spars.
The four veterans welcomed the fresh blood with open arms.
Months passed since then.
The daily combat-like spars and reviews gradually changed Gunter—and grew him.
Those results now shone on this stage of proof and verification.
Kang—!
‘Flashy at a glance, but nothing tricky compared to Arin.’
Suk—!
‘Stronger than Poppi, but that's it.’
Kigik—.
‘Not as tenacious as Senior Theresia.’
And above all……
‘Slower than Yury!’
Gunter's eyes perfectly read every one of Hys's moves.
From those reads and his studied experience, he could ‘predict’ Hys's next actions.
That led straight to Gunter creating his own openings.
Kakakang!
Two daggers surged in, grazing his long sword.
In that instant, Gunter let go of his sword hilt.
‘What……?!’
Hys, never expecting Gunter to drop his sword mid-fight, panicked briefly—creating a small gap.
Gunter, who had baited that gap, didn't miss it.
Hung—.
In a flash, Gunter's shoulder rammed into Hys's solar plexus.
Kwang—!
“Guhk!”
The mana-charged pauldron struck like a steel blade, slamming Hys with gut-wrenching shock.
His body slid back across the ground.
‘Kuh… stance!’
True to his skill, Hys didn't crumple from one hit and scrambled to recover his footing.
But his foe had predicted that too.
Chak—.
Gunter snatched his airborne sword and hurled it.
Shyaaak—!
“……?!”
Hys twisted away from the flying blade in panic, but too slow.
Skguk.
Gunter's longsword gashed his thigh deep.
The wound split nearly to the bone.
But what shocked Hys more was Gunter charging right behind the sword.
Kung—!
The arena floor shook faintly as he planted his foot.
Gunter shot forward like a silver battering ram.
And.
Ujjuk—.
Like piercing a castle gate, his elbow drove into Hys's solar plexus.
‘Guhk!? Y-You bastard……!’
Agony ripped Hys's mouth wide; saliva flew as his eyes bulged.
‘…Th-The same spot as before?!’
Hys's body soared through the air, smashing into the arena wall.
Kwang—!
The sight evoked Gunter's own past—when he'd charged Yury and bounced off.
Huduk—.
As debris and dust rose from where Hys crashed, Gunter picked up his sword rolling on the dirt.
A touch of sentiment crossed his face.
‘I've changed a lot.’
Dropping his sword wasn't enough—he'd thrown it too.
Months ago, prizing a knight's pride, he wouldn't have dreamed of it.
But endless spars had transformed him.
He'd realized clinging to empty pride stifled growth, so he'd boldly embraced change.
‘My choice… was right.’
Jeobuk jeobuk—.
Gunter approached Hys.
Leg gushing blood.
Left arm and ribs looking broken.
As dust settled, Hys's wretched state emerged.
Gunter even saw him vomiting blood—innards damaged—and leveled his sword.
“Sorry, but you seem a bit short on teaching me manners. Still, good experience.”
Gunter twisted Hys's own words back at him; Hys's face twisted in rage.
“You… if not… for that armor…….”
Without the armor, it'd be his win, spat Hys through gritted teeth.
Gunter nodded.
“Yeah, you're right. Without this full plate, my body would've been shredded and rolling on the ground ages ago. But… I know 'that guy' would've said this for sure.”
With that, Gunter raised his face guard.
Chilkeok—.
His exposed face bore a sly grin.
“If it pisses you off, buy your own. Quit bitching.”
Under Gunter's cold gaze, Hys flushed red—but that was all he could do.
“You bast… grrrk!”
Gritting his teeth, he passed out cold.
As Hys went limp without a twitch, Gunter sheathed his sword and walked toward the exit he'd entered from.
Jeobuk jeobuk—.
The spectators watched in silence.
Jeobuk jeobuk—.
No victory declaration.
But everyone knew.
Who won, who lost.
The quiet arena began to stir.
“My god… Hys lost?”
“To a first-year?”
A first-year—deemed the weakest—toppling a third-year.
The upset from the opening match heated the once-silent venue.
Waaaaa—!
Thunderous cheers soon echoed, shaking the circular arena.
Most roars came from the 50th Cohort.
Basked in cheers as he walked, Gunter instinctively glanced at their stands.
Udeuk—.
He halted abruptly.
“…They're not here.”
Disappointment laced his mutter; his face soured a bit as he resumed walking.
Even then, Gunter still hadn't realized.
The irritation he'd felt before the match… wasn't irritation at all.
It was disappointment.
* * *
After the 24-strong Group 1 upset—a first-year felling a third-year—two more shocks followed in a row.
The culprits: fourth-year Susan Ripley advancing to the 12-strong by beating a fifth-year, and third-year Goetz Roeten doing the same.
But the upsets ended there.
In Group 4 of the 24-strong, a fifth-year easily crushed a fourth-year; Group 5's Theresia predictably trampled her fellow 49th Cohort member to reach the 12-strong.
Final Group 6 ended in intra-cohort battle too, with fourth-year Andres Cheish securing his spot.
Thus, Day 1 of the 24-strong wrapped smoothly.
Next day.
Day 2: the remaining groups.
Crowds flooded the arena from the first match, expectations high.
The opener, Group 7, featured none other than ‘that Yury Holland.’
“Hmm… finally gonna see it?”
“That strength that beat Kwonta… time to confirm.”
“But is that even true? He really beat Rider Kwonta?”
“He used a holy sword, they say.”
“Honestly, the holy sword part shocks me more than beating Kwonta. Just rumors?”
Whispers buzzed everywhere about the first match.
All stemming from rumors and tales about Yury that spread like wildfire through Yuram after the joint quest months back.
Yury Holland beat dozens with one arm.
Yury Holland felled Kwonta in one stroke.
Yury used a holy sword—or a 2m magic sword—to catch Kwonta.
Facts twisted with exaggeration bred doubt.
They came to verify the rumors firsthand, hopes high.
But their goal went unmet.
“Group 7 of the 24-strong: Yury Holland wins by opponent's forfeit!”
The second-year forfeited without even stepping up against the first-year—an unprecedented event.
Yury snickered in the waiting area, having heard the black-armored guard's announcement.
“Man, this guy's slippery. Forfeit? Really?”
“…He's still your senior.”
“I was just gonna gently caress one leg and one arm each. Tsk.”
“…Yeah, he dodged smart.”
Theresia chided Yury while applauding her wise cohort-mate's escape.
Meanwhile, Yury turned to Gunter.
“Why the long face?”
“…What about it?”
“You look super pissed.”
Gunter glanced around at Yury's words.
The cramped waiting room packed with Theresia, Arin, Poppi.
Unlike his own match, it bustled.
His lips twitched slightly.
“…No way.”
“You do.”
“You're seeing things.”
Yury eyed the denying Gunter lazily, then lost interest and stood.
“Alright, business done. Time to head out and have fun?”
As Yury led the group toward the exit,
A black-armored guard burst in, stopping them.
“Group 8 of the 24-strong: Fritz Sing wins by opponent's forfeit.”
Following Yury's group, Group 8 ended in a walkover too.
The guard continued.
“Group 9 of the 24-strong: prepare for your match immediately.”
All eyes turned.
“Group 9 contestant, Arin Helga! Ready for launch!”
There stood Arin, bow and quiver slung on, beaming brightly.