Chapter 60: The First Letter (60)
Chapter 60: The First Letter (60)
When I drew my sword, Celine could only stare at me with a look of utter bewilderment. It was only natural. She had likely never been asked for a real sword duel so out of the blue.
To make matters worse, we had just had a major falling out. Traces of tears still lingered around Celine’s eyes. Between that and her trembling voice, it seemed she had been suffering in her own way.
In the past, whenever I got angry, Celine was always the first to come and comfort me. It seemed she had intended to do the same today, but that would have been meaningless.
The relationship between Celine and Seria was already a ticking time bomb. It had gone beyond mere arguments to the point of drawing blades; a few bouts of anger and an apology wouldn't resolve a conflict like this.
There was only one answer.
I had to give her a reason to yield, and there was only one thing that could make a swordsman submit.
A real sword duel.
Eloquence, social skills—none of that was necessary. Only a battle where blade met blade was clean, leaving no room for lingering resentment.
Celine still looked like she couldn't believe what was happening. She stammered as she spoke.
“I-Ian… what is this?”
“Exactly what it looks like. Let’s have a match with real swords.”
Her amber eyes blankly followed my scabbard as it rolled across the ground. She looked back at me, then at the scabbard, repeating the motion several times.
Finally, a hollow laugh escaped Celine’s lips. She asked me, “……Why?”
“You won’t be convinced by words anyway. Just getting through the moment isn't the end of it… and besides, you looked like you felt wronged when you were arguing with Seria.”
I adjusted my stance. Sword point forward, gaze fixed solely on my opponent.
Celine had yet to draw her sword. However, it was clear she would soon. The duel had more than just one condition.
“Let’s settle this cleanly with a real duel. The loser has to grant the winner one wish.”
“……A wish?”
“Yeah, a wish. Anything at all.”
At those words, a flicker of complex emotions crossed Celine’s eyes. She seemed to be weighing her options. It wasn't hard to guess what she was thinking.
She was likely considering a wish like demanding I cut ties with Seria.
Of course, I would have to negotiate if the wish went too far, but if Celine truly wanted it, I was prepared to reduce the frequency of my meetings with Seria. That was the only way the promise would hold weight.
Celine seemed to finish her calculations quickly. Her amber eyes sank into a chilling stillness.
It meant she was going to take this seriously. Her hand moved toward her waist.
“……How is the winner decided?”
“Until one of us yields.”
“Don’t get hurt and cry, Ian.”
No swordsman picks up a real blade without being prepared to bleed. I simply nodded at Celine’s eerie warning.
I had my own calculations. Before I lost my memory, Celine and I were roughly equal in skill. Since then, I had made remarkable progress.
I even had a sidearm—my hand axe—giving me an even greater advantage in actual combat. While there were variables, the probability of my victory was high.
Yes, probabilistically. I pushed aside my burgeoning complacency and spoke.
“Then… begin!”
Zip! At my signal, both our figures blurred as we lunged forward. Celine hadn't drawn her sword yet. She intended to settle this with a sword-drawing technique.
However, drawing techniques are fundamentally designed with chain attacks in mind; if the initial flow is blocked, it’s difficult to recover. I decided to use my full strength from the start to halt Celine’s blade.
It didn't take long for the frozen flow of time to shatter into a cacophony of violence.
Our forms collided. The extremely compressed space seemed to explode outward the moment we tightened our grips on our hilts.
I had to end this as quickly as possible. A duel with real swords carried a high risk of injury. The sooner it ended, the less likely either of us would be left with permanent scars.
Having made my decision, I poured as much mana as I could into my sword and swung downward. A silver line traced the air. In that instant, Celine’s arm muscles tensed.
Then, the collision.
Clang! The sound of the blades locking was accompanied by a powerful shockwave. It was a sound closer to an explosion. In that moment, my eyes widened in spite of myself.
The power of her draw was beyond imagination. Usually, a downward strike has the advantage of weight over an upward slash. Yet, Celine’s sword—clearly the latter—was overwhelming mine with sheer force.
This wasn't a draw meant for chain attacks. It was a single, perfected strike.
Boom! With the sound of mana clashing against mana, my sword was knocked upward as if it were being repelled. If she followed up with a chain attack now, it was over. I grit my teeth and deliberately let my posture collapse.
As I dropped low, Celine’s second strike followed. Her amber eyes pursued me fiercely.
She swung down again with everything she had.
I had to roll across the ground to escape the spot. Thump! A cloud of dust erupted like an explosion.
The ringing sound of compressed air bursting echoed in my ears. I scrambled to my feet and regained my stance, but I couldn't help but stare at Celine in a daze.
Was Celine always this strong? Her mana capacity was excellent, but the power of her strikes hadn't been at this level before. In terms of raw power, she might even be comparable to Teahn.
As the dust settled, I saw Celine through the haze, her breathing ragged. The ground where she had struck was gouged out, looking as if it had been hit by a bomb.
“Hey, you… did you eat some kind of legendary elixir while I wasn't looking?”
“What… pant… are you talking about…?”
Celine wiped the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead with her sleeve, giving me an incredulous look.
“You… huff… taught me, Ian. You said that to use my mana most effectively… huff… I should put all my strength into a single strike.”
So that was why she was out of breath after only two swings. Using mana so lavishly would naturally drain one's physical stamina just as quickly.
Investing that massive amount of mana entirely into power made her terrifying. It was excellent advice—advice I supposedly gave her.
The only problem was that I had absolutely no memory of giving such advice.
If it wasn't in my memory no matter how hard I searched, there was only one answer. Cold sweat ran down my back.
It meant I had done this during the time I couldn't remember. Back then, Celine must have had an epiphany. Instead of obsessing over speed or chain attacks, she decided to pour her mana into increasing the power of each individual strike.
For someone like me, whose mana capacity was only average, she was the most difficult type of opponent to face. Not knowing this, I had confidently challenged her to a real duel; it was no wonder she had accepted so readily.
Ian Percus, you absolute moron. What on earth were you doing while you had amnesia?
Muttering curses internally didn't change the reality before me. Celine steadied her breathing once more and pointed her sword at me.
“Be careful, Ian… since I’m using my full strength, it’s hard for me to stop midway.”
“Actually, if you’re that worried, we could just stop—”
But my timid suggestion didn't reach her. Before I could finish, she kicked off the ground and charged at me.
Though she was small, her frame offered less air resistance, making her charge incredibly fast. The only saving grace was that because she was investing most of her mana into power, she was slightly slower than usual.
Of course, that wasn't a decisive weakness. The purpose of the charge was to close the distance for an exchange. And the sheer power of the sword Celine swung made me want to avoid that exchange entirely.
If we clashed, I would just be repelled like before. Even with my full strength, that was the result. In that case, it was better to dodge.
Celine’s sword traced a vertical line again. From sky to ground, it was a textbook downward slash—though its power was anything but ordinary.
Thump! The ground vibrated again. Having anticipated the trajectory, I had already twisted my body to narrowly avoid the path of the sword.
Even so, the mere afterpressure felt like it was tearing my skin. If I took a direct hit from an attack like that, there would be no recovery. I’d have to worry about my life, not just an injury.
I grit my teeth to maintain my balance on the shaking ground. Seizing an opening, I thrust my sword toward Celine’s forearm.
But Celine wasn't about to be caught so easily. She pulled her sword from the ground and curled her body inward. She was already small, and by curling up, she left no opening for my blade.
Celine rolled past me immediately. As she rolled, she sheathed the sword she had been clutching.
Here it comes again. The draw.
Celine lunged at me like a coiled spring. In the next instant, her scabbard flashed again.
Her momentum-driven charge was faster than I expected. Lacking the time to react properly, I grit my teeth and swung my sword down again.
I knew it was a shortcut to defeat, but I had no choice. I had no other way to stop her blade right then.
Boom! With a thunderous roar, my sword was sent flying into the air. It spun away with a whistling sound. I had deliberately loosened my grip. In fact, I had swung the sword—usually held with two hands—with only one.
Because my other hand had to reach for my waist. Immediately, my hand axe was drawn.
A sharp silver arc was drawn between Celine and me. Celine leaned her upper body back with all her might, narrowly avoiding the axe. The front of her clothes was slightly nicked.
I could have followed up with a chain attack, but I couldn't rule out the possibility of Celine counterattacking. I couldn't even handle her with a sword; trying to block that kind of power with a hand axe was out of the question.
As if by mutual agreement, Celine and I both backed away several paces. In the meantime, I managed to retrieve my sword from where it had stuck in the ground.
It was a brief exchange. But it was enough to leave Celine gasping for air and me drenched in cold sweat.
Panting, Celine returned her sword to its sheath. It seemed she intended to settle this with her drawing technique once more.
“……That hand axe… huff… is no joke… huff…”
“I… I really want to curse my past self for giving you that advice right now.”
Celine and I faced each other, wiping the sweat from our faces with our sleeves. Our eyes were still shining sharply. It was an instinctual sensation—a gut feeling that the end was near.
Celine couldn't sustain a long fight due to her stamina limits, and since I was outmatched in raw mana, engaging in more exchanges carried too much risk. My sword could be sent flying again at any moment.
The fight would be decided soon, and I found myself deep in thought.
I had often used the unpredictability of the hand axe to my advantage, but that was no longer possible. My hand axe had become too famous. Even just now, she had expected it.
If she hadn't known about the axe, she would have been certain of victory the moment my sword was knocked away. But she hadn't; instead, she had naturally dodged the axe as it was drawn from my waist.
There was only one answer. I hung my sword at my waist. It was a bit cumbersome without a scabbard, but I had no choice.
It would be drawn again soon anyway. Celine watched me with a puzzled look as I held only the hand axe.
But that only lasted a moment. Celine seemed to recall a scene she had witnessed before and quickly adjusted her stance. It was exactly as she expected.
With a sharp whistling sound, I threw my hand axe. The axe streaked toward Celine at a terrifying speed.
Celine’s scabbard flashed once more. Her sword, shot out like a bolt of lightning, struck the axe aside. With a clang, the hand axe was sent spinning mournfully into the air.
What Celine hadn't expected, however, was that my sword followed immediately after. She hadn't imagined I would throw my primary weapon as well, and a look of panic flickered in her eyes.
Even so, Celine still had some composure left. She grit her teeth and twisted her body, barely managing to strike the sword down.
Another clash of metal on metal, and the sword plunged into the ground. But because she had twisted her body so desperately, her footing was unstable, and her center of gravity shifted too far.
It was only a split second. But it was my only chance.
My eyes tracked the falling hand axe. Despite its weight, it had been knocked quite high and was only now beginning to descend. Given the power of that strike, it was a miracle it was coming down at all.
The important thing was its position. Celine’s draw always moved from bottom to top. Therefore, the axe was naturally sent upward in the opposite direction of its flight. And now, it was falling in a parabola right in front of me.
With a single leap, my hand found the familiar handle of the axe. If I ran all the way to her, I’d be too late. I used the momentum of my landing to hurl the hand axe again.
Clang! The axe struck Celine’s sword violently. She was already struggling to regain her balance. The sudden heavy impact sent the sword flying from her hand.
Yet Celine was desperate. Perhaps she wanted to separate me from Seria that badly, for she threw herself onto the ground, rolling toward her sword.
She could have chosen to pick up my sword instead, but the distance between us was already negligible. She seemed to choose the option that might buy her even a little more time.
But it was too late. Having already started my charge, I only had to stoop to retrieve my sword from the ground. Celine didn't have nearly enough time to grab her sword and regain her stance.
No matter what she did, my sword would be faster. I lunged forward, thrusting my blade toward Celine’s forearm.
A wound to the forearm wasn't fatal, and it would prevent her from holding a sword, making it the perfect spot to force a surrender in a real duel. It was also easy to treat at the temple.
The fight should have ended right there.
If only Celine hadn't tried to swing her sword from her collapsed position at the last second.
It seemed to be an instinctive move born from her desire to win, but it caused her body and the collision point of our blades to shift subtly.
Instead of her forearm, the blade was now aimed at her heart.
I couldn't stop. If I hesitated now to try and halt the blade, I would become the victim of her trajectory.
Someone was going to take a fatal blow.
Realizing this, my eyes snapped wide. Celine was the same. Sensing her fate, she squeezed her eyes shut.
She’s going to die. At the very least, a critical wound. It was a disaster born of excessive competitive spirit. Celine’s body stiffened as she anticipated the coming pain.
Thud. The blade sank in. Blood sprayed. I heard the sound of blood dripping. And then, that warmth, that damp, metallic scent.
Only then did Celine slowly open her eyes. Her amber gaze met mine, blank and hollow.
Celine’s sword had buried itself in my forearm. It was a bizarre position. My sword point had stopped just before Celine’s heart, and in exchange, the sword she had swung late had bitten into my arm.
It was only this minor because Celine had also tried to stop at the last moment. Even from a collapsed position, a strike of that power was dangerous. My arm could have been severed, or the blade might have even reached my own heart.
That was why Celine had closed her eyes. It was a matter of life and death. If anyone was to survive and claim the winner's right to choose, it should have been me.
And yet, I couldn't bring myself to follow through with the strike.
It hurt. A searing pain, like a burn. The blade, having bitten halfway into the bone, transmitted a sharp, throbbing ache directly to my nerves. It felt as if my brain were going to catch fire.
The blood flowing down my forearm ran along my hand and onto the sword. A single drop of blood fell from the tip of the blade, which had stopped just before piercing Celine’s chest.
Celine held her breath, not knowing what to do. She seemed unable to grasp the situation—why I was the one bleeding instead of her.
So, I smiled for her.
I had done this for Celine once before. It was in a field of flowers, and back then, Celine had been incredibly cold for a child.
“……I won, Celine.”
Her amber eyes stared at me without a word. Just staring, in a daze.