Chapter 209
Chapter 209
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 209
Chapter Title: Finals (4)
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Kwantor raised his sword, shaking off his terrifying aura.
At the same time, thin strands of black energy extended from his heart.
Churruk-.
Chest, shoulder, arm... and hand, then climbing up the sword.
When it met the pitch-black holy sword, it began to expand ferociously, using it as a pillar to branch out in all directions like tree limbs.
And finally.
Goooong-.
A towering tree that pierced the heavens was complete.
Gugrgrgr-.
The pitch-black colossal tree created by Kwantor.
As its presence rippled through the air, the spectators swallowed dryly.
‘Monstrous.’
‘Can anyone... block something like that?’
Even from afar, the pressure was overwhelming.
No one in the stands could even imagine withstanding Kwantor's technique.
Meanwhile, having formed the pitch-black tree, Kwantor suppressed the rising blood in his throat and swallowed it down.
‘Finally... I’ve completed it.’
If he hadn’t forged the holy sword, and if the Black Blood realm hadn’t reached this level, he couldn’t have even used this ultimate technique.
And the reason he could wield it now was solely thanks to his father, the Sword Lord.
‘Father... wishes for my victory.’
The insights passed down through the Black Sword Legion Commander.
Upon receiving those insights, Kwantor was left speechless for a long time.
From no one else, but his father, the Sword Lord...
Even if only a portion, insights not shared with his other brothers or sisters, given only to him.
That fact filled Kwantor with immense emotion.
Thus, he could not lose.
He had to live up to the interest and expectations his father had shown for the first time.
‘Failing to completely overwhelm Yuri Holland is truly infuriating...’
But with this.
This ultimate technique, enabled by the insights from his father... it would secure a victory certain enough to dispel all that frustration.
‘Therefore...’
Kwantor swung the sword he had raised toward the heavens down at Yuri.
‘Be crushed like this, Yuri Holland!’
Rider Family Secret Martial Art.
Black Wood.
The black tree that had soared into the sky toppled toward Yuri on the ground.
Gugrgrgr-.
The colossal tree crashing down with terrifying momentum.
It was a truly menacing sight.
But Yuri remained utterly calm even as the tree fell toward him.
His face expressionless, as if a life-or-death crisis were someone else’s affair.
The moment the massive Black Wood reflected in Yuri’s golden pupils.
Tsurruk-.
The tree’s branching limbs suddenly began to writhe.
The rigid, hardened branches suddenly softened and sagged, pouring toward Yuri like tentacles.
Chwajajaja-.
The black energy sharpened to points flew like fiercely hurled javelins—dozens of them.
Pababab-.
An ominous whoosh cutting through the air.
“Ah......”
“Wha?!”
Even though it wasn’t happening to them, low groans escaped from the stands at the black branches raining down like arrows.
And it was then.
Seureuk-.
That Yuri finally began to move.
Jeobeok-.
It started with a single light step.
And then.
Pachit-.
Enveloped in lightning, Yuri weaved through the onslaught of black javelins pouring madly down.
Thanks to that, the black javelins merely tore up the innocent ground, kicking up clouds of dust.
But as if anticipating this, the barrage of black javelins continued relentlessly.
If anything, more numerous and ferocious than before.
As if the initial ones had been mere appetizers.
Pabababak-.
Black tentacles blackened the sky, stabbing down at Yuri.
It looked as if a deluge of black rain was pouring.
And amid the black downpour raging, Yuri’s sword began to move slowly.
Swish swish swish-.
In a way, it was a reenactment of that day.
Not long ago.
The moment Johan had first shown Yuri the Demonic Style and danced his sword dance in the rain.
Sarureuk-.
Yuri’s sword swam silently through the downpour.
At that moment, Yuri recalled what Johan had said when he had just entered the cradle.
[Huhu, I’ll give you two assignments.]
The two tasks Johan had given him to complete before the year ended.
He had already far exceeded the first: completing the demonic sword.
And the second task that followed.
[Complete the Demonic Style—Capture Technique.]
Yuri immediately threw himself into perfecting the Demonic Style—Capture Technique.
He succeeded in mimicking its essence, but the process afterward was grueling.
No matter how much he pondered and racked his brains, no answers came.
The more he fretted, the less progress he made, sinking deeper into a labyrinth.
Then, Johan banned Yuri from his research.
[If you bury your nose in the big picture, can you see the painting? Sometimes, you have to step back to see what’s right there.]
Yuri understood Johan’s words intellectually.
But his heart couldn’t accept them easily.
With no other options, Yuri set aside the Demonic Style—Capture Technique as Johan suggested.
Instead, he focused on honing his fundamentals.
How much time passed like that?
It was probably some day in November.
He had forgotten everything about the Demonic Style—Capture Technique.
He hadn’t thought of it even once.
Yet that day, for some inexplicable reason, thoughts of it suddenly resurfaced.
‘Why is it called a capture technique? Is it really just that?’
A question out of nowhere.
From there, doubts chained together, and things he hadn’t seen before came into view.
Things invisible when immersed too closely.
Thanks to forgetting it, as Johan said, they appeared all the clearer.
That unleashed a flood of accumulated knowledge, granting Yuri a massive inspiration.
From that inspiration, a creation was born.
Sarururu-.
Black downpour flowing along Yuri’s sword just like that.
‘......?!’
Kwantor’s eyes widened in shock as his own power began slipping from his control.
But as time passed, the power escaping his grasp grew, and proportionally, the black energy following Yuri’s sword increased.
Redner Family Secret Martial Art.
Demonic Style.
A silver blade leading the black energy.
It was so eerily similar to that day when Johan first demonstrated the Demonic Style.
That was the framework Johan had built for the Demonic Style.
‘It’s not a capture technique......’
With Yuri adding flesh to Johan’s framework.
‘This... imprisons the flow. That’s how you gather the flow.’
Sarur-.
At last, the incomplete third form of the Demonic Style took its true shape.
And with that, Yuri named his own creation, not ‘—Capture Technique.’
Redner Family Secret Martial Art.
Demonic Style—Imprisonment.
Churruruk-.
The black energy of Kwantor that had been following Yuri’s sword.
At the same time, the javelin barrage stabbing down at Yuri from all sides halted.
As if time itself had stopped.
As the bizarre phenomenon continued, Kwantor gradually lost control of his power.
He thrashed desperately.
“What... what the hell did you do?!”
With a mighty shout, the pitch-black colossal tree shed all its uncontrolled branches.
Now only the trunk remained, resembling a wooden sword, as it gathered its remaining power and charged at Yuri.
Hung-.
Yuri’s sword advanced to meet the colossal mass approaching with overwhelming menace.
‘You can’t hold a gathered flow at a chokepoint forever.’
If you just block the chokepoint and gather it, the pressure will eventually burst the dam.
So if you intentionally burst it first, before it breaks on its own.
And if you prepare the path for it to flow beforehand.
‘You can unleash the pent-up flow all at once in the direction you desire.’
Shyuririk-.
As the silver sword dance reached its peak, the halted black energy converged in one spot.
‘Go.’
Soon, it began gushing kolkol- toward the direction Yuri’s sword tip pointed.
Geugeuk-.
The massively converged flow swallowed the wooden-sword-shaped pillar charging at Yuri.
The black tidal wave crushed the wooden sword trying to hold out wagwak- and surged toward its end.
And at that end stood Kwantor.
‘...How did it come to this?’
His own power turning against him.
Kwantor couldn’t comprehend what had happened at all.
And that remained true.
Kwagagaga-.
Even as he was completely devoured by the black tidal wave.
* * *
Dragon’s Cradle, South Island.
Joljoljol-.
Near a quaint pavilion by a small pond gathering clear water.
Huruk-.
The Sword Lord’s gaze shifted to one side after sipping his tea briefly.
“......”
His inscrutable pitch-black eyes stared north toward the circular arena for a long while before returning to his teacup.
Huruk-.
Another brief sip.
Hidden by the teacup, the Sword Lord’s lips curved in a faint smile.
* * *
High in the sky.
Yohan, lying sideways on a cloud-bed, sipping liquor.
He spat out his drink and bolted upright at the black tidal wave sweeping the circular arena.
Puhat!
“That bastard?! When did he... learn that?!”
His eyes widened in shock, analyzing the black tidal wave.
He recognized the power within.
It was slightly different from his conception, but unmistakably akin to Demonic Style—Capture Technique.
Realizing this, Yohan laughed in disbelief.
“Hahaha, Demonic Style—Capture Technique in just one year......”
His face hardened as he muttered.
“...Wait, did that punk...?!”
Yohan pondered deeply.
When assigning tasks to Yuri, he had set a mid-term goal of completing the demonic sword within a year.
After that......
‘...When did I say to finish the capture technique?’
[Huhu, I’ll give you two assignments.]
[First, complete the demonic sword within the next year.]
[Second task: Complete the Demonic Style—Capture Technique.]
No matter how he thought, he hadn’t specified a deadline.
He had simply said to complete Demonic Style—Capture Technique as the second task.
But paradoxically, that could be misinterpreted as having the same one-year deadline as the demonic sword completion.
Understanding this, Yohan’s eyes widened in shock again.
‘No wonder that bastard was acting so frantically, like he was racing against time...!’
He had thought the deadline for the task was by year’s end?!
Unaware, Yohan had told him to step back, not stare too closely, to air out his head for better thinking.
Of course, it wasn’t meant deeply—just to take it easy.
It definitely was......
“That bastard... actually did it?”
He had truly completed Demonic Style—Capture Technique in one year.
“I knew it all along, but damn, that kid’s a total madman.”
Yuri was undoubtedly insane.
In every way.
Yohan clicked his tongue hard at the thought.
Then he recalled the black tidal wave Yuri had unleashed.
“Well... it’s usable.”
His words were curt, but a satisfied smile played on Yohan’s lips.
He had no choice but to acknowledge it.
Yuri’s Demonic Style—Capture Technique... no, the creation he had fleshed out on Yohan’s framework was truly excellent.
‘...He’s just about reached it.’
The Demonic Style, born from the resolve to return an opponent’s unstoppable destructive power upon them.
What Yuri had shown in the match seemed close to the ideal Yohan had envisioned.
‘The question is whether it works on the Sword Lord’s kid... or even the Sword Lord himself......’
Even if it didn’t yet, that scene had become a small beacon for Yohan, who had wandered alone in darkness for so long.
A hopeful light that his efforts hadn’t been in vain.
And holding that beacon was......
‘That little monster.’
Perhaps the greatest fortune of his later years was pulling that little monster from the northern maw of the dragon to his side.
With that thought, Yohan poured liquor into his mouth.
Kolkolkol-.
Hidden by the bottle, Yohan’s lips curved in the most joyful smile yet.
* * *
The site swept by the black tidal wave.
An suffocating silence hung in the air.
Teolteol-.
Kwantor, battered beyond recognition, rolled his eyes back white and collapsed.
Broken arms and legs.
Blood-soaked body and face.
In a state with no part unscathed, barely clinging to life with faint breaths.
It was clear he would never rise again.
Thus, everyone realized.
‘Kwantor... has lost.’
The overlord of the cradle had changed.