Chapter 28
Chapter 28
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: The Great Warrior's Stance
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 28
“There’s one thing I’d like to confirm first.”
Lander said.
“What is it?”
“If I lose, you’ll grant one request from this great warrior, right?”
“I can grant it as payment for the gift of defeat. Provided it doesn’t tarnish the tribe or my honor.”
“Understood for now. I’ll tell you the rest after this duel ends.”
The Great Warrior stood up. He unfastened the scabbard hanging from his harness and drew his sword. Tacha also pulled the spear he had stuck into the ground.
“Shall we move somewhere else? It feels a bit cramped here.”
“Just what I wanted.”
He walked a short distance along the cleared path. He stopped about a hundred meters from the wagons.
There were no obstructing trees, and since it was a wagon road, no rocks to hinder movement either. The unusually bright moonlight provided good visibility.
“This spot looks good.”
“I was thinking the same.”
The humans had taken positions a short distance away.
“Is it all right if we have spectators?”
“It’s fine with me.”
“Then let’s begin.”
He adjusted his grip on the glaive’s haft so its blade pointed at Lander.
“I’d like to take the first five moves as a handicap. Is that okay?”
The Great Warrior nodded.
Facing him head-on made it even clearer. This wasn’t a fight. It was an opportunity to receive instruction from a great warrior. If even one attack landed, he would be satisfied.
The Great Warrior raised his lowered sword to waist height and shifted his weight to his back foot.
Tacha rolled his eyes up and down. From head to toe, there wasn’t a single opening anywhere. Not even the fleeting gap that any breathing creature must inevitably show.
He moved slowly to the right. Circling to test the fortress’s walls. After completing a full circle around the Great Warrior, he gave up on probing.
This was no living being whose weaknesses would reveal themselves upon sight. What stood before him was an animal unlike any he had ever encountered.
All that remained was to test it directly with the flesh that had answered the mountain’s call.
He unleashed the power coiled in his calves in one burst. A straightforward attack with no finesse. Leading with the glaive, he aimed for the Great Warrior’s sword blade. Clashing directly would surely yield some insight.
It was the moment the spear blade met the sword.
A faint metallic ring echoed. There was no rebound. The spear tip slid forward as naturally as slicing through empty air.
The blade glanced off along the sword and gouged the ground. With a thud, dry dirt sprayed up. He quickly recovered the spear and leaped back.
In real combat, that single exchange would have ended it. If the Great Warrior hadn’t withdrawn his sword, the blade riding up the spear shaft would have severed his fingers and then his throat in an instant.
It was dizzying. The scales covering the back of his neck shivered. Sweat was probably trickling between them. And he rarely sweated. He straightened his posture and stared at the Great Warrior.
The Great Warrior, who had deflected the spear blade with a flick of his wrist, had returned to his previous stance.
Tacha focused on the Great Warrior’s feet. There wasn’t a trace of movement. He hadn’t even budged. He must have perfectly controlled and smoothly redirected the force behind the spear tip.
The difference was clear. It wasn’t a gap that could be bridged with skill or strength. Yet as a warrior, he had his pride. He set his goal: make the Great Warrior move.
He charged again. A bit faster this time. He dove toward the Great Warrior’s side. This time, a two-strike combo. He first slashed diagonally with the glaive.
As before, the blade slid along the sword. It was expected. Using his left foot as a pivot, he spun his body. Adding rotational force to the glancing spear. A reckless assault. He intended to strike with the haft instead of the blade.
The haft advanced with a heavy whoosh. The Great Warrior’s torso lay in its path. Skill couldn’t touch it, but a clash of raw power might force him to move.
Whoosh!
The displaced air swept the ground, kicking up dust. He tensed his forearms and straightened the spear. Seeing the Great Warrior pushed back, he laughed heartily. The mighty tree had swayed. That was enough.
“If I’d taken that barehanded, something would’ve broken for sure.”
“The highest praise. And embarrassing at the same time.”
He felt much lighter. Stamping the haft into the ground, he said,
“Now it’s enough. I’ll forgo the remaining two moves. Please enlighten me with your true skill.”
He touched a finger to the glaive blade. Blood welled from the cut.
He smeared blood on his eyelids and spread it with his tongue. With the remaining blood, he drew a line connecting his throat to his heart.
“Mountain, let the great spirits join me!”
Blood surged fiercely through his body. His vision expanded, and a sense of omnipotence flooded in. Spirit descent was borrowing the power of souls.
After the battle, a burning fever would ravage him, but now was not the time to worry about that.
His top priority was to withstand the Great Warrior’s single sword stroke using every means at his disposal.
Red steam rose from his flared nostrils. His overheated mind commanded him to charge the giant before him. The squeezed muscles expanded in an instant.
Roaring ferociously, he rushed forward. The distance to the Great Warrior closed rapidly. Soon, it was within glaive range.
It was then that the Great Warrior’s ‘stance’ shook his senses. He felt his explosive breathing gradually slow.
His legs, thrusting forward without hesitation, and the hand swinging the spear toward the Great Warrior both lost speed bit by bit.
No, in reality, he probably hadn’t slowed. It was just his senses—his mind hypersensitive from spirit descent—perceiving it that way.
The stance created by the Great Warrior’s body was astonishing. Soon, his nerves would run wild on their own.
He had trained to control his flesh at will, but the Great Warrior’s stance would mock that training by seizing control of his body.
That was the stance of the strong.
The moment he sensed time perception returning, his body lurched left. It wasn’t intentional. A reflexive movement ignoring rational judgment.
And it was also something the Great Warrior had induced.
He felt his grip tearing as a thunderous roar engulfed his ears. The sword and spear blades tangled. He gripped harder against the surging pain in his hand.
In a duel that could have been deflected or glanced away, the Great Warrior met it with force. The great warrior was showing consideration.
Thus, he had to pour his all into it with gratitude.
His legs swelled to the point of bursting. His waist felt like it would snap, and one shoulder had already lost function.
His vision reddened. Blood vessels in his eyes seemed burst. It was the onset of spirit descent’s side effects.
“Spirits of the mountain! Grant me strength!”
Screaming like a madman, he poured soul and flesh into the haft. His entire body felt like it was fraying apart.
His vision grew ever redder, and the flesh possessed by the soul let out its final scream.
The instant he realized he’d reached his limit, he looked at the Great Warrior’s face. Firmly clenched jaws. He seemed to be exerting a little force.
Was this the end?
His strength ebbed away. The clashing forces resolved in an instant. The Great Warrior had withdrawn power at the precise moment. A response possible only by seeing everything.
From start to finish.
Every moment had been within the Great Warrior’s expectations. Humiliation struck his mind, but he had no strength left to be swayed by emotion.
Squeezing out his last reserves, he gripped the haft. Stamping it into the ground, he pushed with his knees. Collapsing unseemly was a warrior’s shame. Firm until the final moment. That was the warrior of the black heart.
The Great Warrior steadied his staggering body.
“I’m fine,” he wanted to say, but his jaw wouldn’t move. Barely parting his trembling jaws, he spoke.
“I consider it an honor… to have received the sword of a great warrior.”
Supported, he made his way to a nearby tree. Leaning against it, his body immediately convulsed. He nearly blacked out. Pain that whitened his mind.
“The mountain must cherish you. It’s been ages since I’ve seen a soul that strong.”
“Have you met another warrior called by the mountain before?”
“I saw one once. A great warrior with red feathers.”
“I see. How do I compare to that warrior?”
“You already know the answer.”
“I’m still far from a match.”
He grimaced. Muscles beneath his scales twisted like wrung laundry. The fever after spirit descent.
“Are you all right?”
The Great Warrior asked. He nodded faintly.
“It’s the price of the mountain’s call. I just have to endure.”
“Then rest. Night is deep anyway.”
“Indeed.”
He gripped the spear shaft and closed his eyes. Pain and fatigue battered his body mercilessly. Agony enough to make his nerves twitch, yet on some level, he was glad.
This excruciating pain would also become nourishment.
He must have blacked out briefly, because when he opened his eyes, the sun was up.
“You’re awake.”
He turned his stiff neck to look. The Great Warrior—no, Lander—sat by the campfire, reduced to embers.
“Sorry for the trouble.”
He’d kept watch through the night. Tacha stood and checked his condition.
“Can you move?”
Lander asked.
“The pain from the fever won’t last long, so I’m fine. Just some muscle soreness left.”
“The Taring body never ceases to amaze. A human would’ve needed days of rest.”
“A blessing from the mountain.”
Tacha untied the blue banner from his arm and hung it on the spear shaft. He was supposed to head to the imperial holy city as planned, but having experienced defeat, there was no reason to go. He’d return to the tribe and train again with the mountain warriors.
Hoofbeats sounded from afar. The lined-up wagons began moving one by one. A young Rappa called Lander’s name. They were about to depart.
“Once more, I offer respect to your sword. As a mountain warrior, I’ll strive to become like it.”
He hefted the spear and continued.
“Before we part, I should hear your request. What do you want from me?”
“Please meet someone. A woman named Ariel of the Tian family.”
“What should I do when I meet her?”
“She’ll probably be in need of help.”
“Tian. I’ve heard of the family. I don’t like meddling in human faction squabbles.”
“I’m not asking you to help blindly. See for yourself, and if she’s worth helping, then do so. I leave the judgment to you.”
“Is that enough?”
“Yes. If she’s not worthy of a mountain warrior’s aid, then that’s as far as she goes.”
“I’ll judge by the mountain’s customs. If she’s a human of value, I’ll help. Otherwise, I’ll just pass on your regards. I’ll stop by Schola on the way.”
“That’ll do it.”
The young Rappa called Lander again, louder. He spoke to Lander, who was stretching.
“One last thing I’d like to see.”
“Tell me.”
Tacha fixed his gaze on the scabbard at Lander’s waist and said,
“I saw your stance plenty yesterday. Now I want to see your domain—the domain of the sword.”
(To be continued)