Chapter 118: If You're Frustrated Enough to Cry, Get Stronger (1)
Chapter 118: If You're Frustrated Enough to Cry, Get Stronger (1)
“Begin!”
The match started with the referee’s shout.
Patrick watched with interest as the Elves’ combat style unfolded before him.
“Ho… so that’s how they fight, huh?”
The Elves didn’t use thick, heavy longswords; instead, they wielded light, thin sabers and carried no shields. Their armor was light leather, allowing for movements that maximized their agility.
With such swift and nimble footwork, they circled their opponents, darting in with sharp, stinging attacks.
Slash!
The opponent blocked an attack with his shield. However, by the time he tried to launch a counterattack, the Elven warrior had already retreated far out of reach. Simultaneously, something whistled through the air toward him.
He hurriedly raised his shield again.
Clang!
A small knife struck the shield and fell to the floor. The Elf was using ranged pressure to keep the enemy from closing in while maintaining distance.
Watching this, Patrick nodded and muttered to himself.
“They fight exactly as I expected.”
He had suspected as much from the moment he saw the equipment they brought to the stage.
Is it because they dress like assassins? Their fighting style follows that same vein.
Regardless, the battle dragged on. It was a clash between an Elf using mobility for hit-and-run tactics and a defensive knight standing firm with a massive tower shield and a broadsword. Since two extremely different styles were clashing, it didn't seem like the match would end quickly.
Will the one who makes the first mistake, loses their cool, or runs out of stamina be the loser? Still, it’s a shame. With that kind of movement, there are far more suitable ways to fight than a formal one-on-one duel.
In truth, Elves were famous for their mastery of the bow. However, it seemed they didn't use them because bows weren't permitted in Arcana. Instead, they utilized their agility to fight with sharp blades and throwing knives. Even with those, they were holding their own against the representatives handpicked by various nations.
To show that level of skill using only secondary armaments instead of their primary weapon…
In Patrick’s eyes, the Elves’ skills were quite impressive. They followed a different training system than humans, so he couldn't pinpoint their exact Star-rank, but the same applied to Patrick himself.
At that level, they’re at least 4-Star. Even if you dropped them into the Martial World, they’d be somewhere between first-rate and second-rate among the wandering warriors.
It was surprising that they could fight so well without their main weapons. But perhaps not using their primary gear was the problem after all.
The Elf, who had been moving rapidly, eventually slowed down as his stamina waned, finally allowing his opponent to close the distance.
“Haaah!”
As the opponent pushed forward with raw strength at close range, the Elf was pushed back helplessly and suffered defeat.
“Aint Nova, victory!”
In the end, three out of the five Elves lost in the first round, with only two advancing to the second. However, they didn't seem to care much whether they won or lost. Seeing them neither frustrated by defeat nor jubilant in victory, it appeared they didn't place much importance on this tournament.
Regardless, by the end of the first day, 28 representatives—including six who won by default—out of the 50 contestants advanced to the second round.
It was incredibly encouraging that four representatives from the Atronia Kingdom, previously classified as the weakest nation, were among those 28. At the very least, they had successfully washed away years of disgrace at this point in Arcana.
But…
This is nowhere near enough. Shall I stir things up properly starting tomorrow?
On the first day of Arcana, Patrick had yet to show even a fraction of his true strength.
* * *
To allow for the treatment of injuries and recovery from fatigue, the tournament was held with a day of rest between rounds. During that time, priests personally visited to heal the contestants, but the Atronia Kingdom didn't have any major casualties. The only one wounded was the defeated Gerard, and even his injuries weren't serious.
Then came the following day.
The 28 powerhouses who had broken through the first round began to clash fiercely.
“Haaah!”
“Not a chance!”
Clang!
The representative of the Harbor Duchy and the representative of the Flame Kingdom collided intensely. Both were at a similar level, around the mid-4-Star realm. However, the Flame Kingdom’s representative was burning with more tenacity.
Out of the five comrades from his country, all four except for him had been eliminated in the first round. He felt that he had to at least make it to the third round to save his nation’s face.
I absolutely cannot lose!
He gave his all to live up to the desperate gazes of his comrades watching from behind. And then…
“Billius Maple, victory!”
“I… I won.”
It was a close call, but he managed to win. Blood was streaming from his entire body, and he would be in serious trouble if he wasn't treated quickly, but he had endured.
“Oh… impressive.”
“He won through sheer grit. Pure grit.”
“The level of this Arcana is definitely high. To think a 4-Star master would struggle that much in the second round.”
“Tell me about it. In the past, a 4-Star could have looked all the way to the semifinals.”
Just as the spectators said, the level of this particular Arcana was exceptionally high. Geniuses who had distinguished themselves across the continent over the past few years had participated in droves, and the average level of those who had trained alongside those geniuses was also quite high.
And finally, the top favorite to win this high-level tournament appeared.
“Garcia Reinardo!”
“Present!”
At the referee’s call, he answered in a heavy, powerful voice and stepped onto the arena.
He had blonde hair and pale green eyes. His impression was more kind than rugged. Had he not been wearing armor and carrying a sword, it would have been difficult to take him for a knight.
Yet, this very man was the genius currently receiving the most attention on the continent and the strongest candidate to win Arcana.
“So that’s Garcia… Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Antorius Denar, the Holy Kingdom’s top prospect, watched the arena with intense focus, even though his turn was still a while away.
Garcia Reinardo.
This was his first time seeing him in person, but he had heard the name frequently since childhood.
[If it’s this child, he might be able to defeat Garcia.]
[You must defeat Garcia. If you cannot overcome that wall, the future of the Holy Kingdom will be dark.]
[Work harder. Otherwise, you will never defeat that monster.]
Antorius, designated as the youngest Paladin candidate of the Holy Kingdom, and Garcia, the genius swordsman chosen as the successor to the Sword Saint. Considering the rivalry between the Empire and the Holy Kingdom as they vied for continental hegemony, these two were destined to be conscious of one another.
“I hope he faces someone decent. Otherwise, it’ll be hard to gauge his skill.”
Did the referee hear Antorius’s words? He called out Garcia’s opponent.
“Alex Rowenski.”
The one called to face the genius was Alex from the Atronia Kingdom.
“Fuuuu….”
Alex let out a deep sigh. He then turned to Professor Late, who was standing behind him.
“I’ll go and give it my best.”
“Mm, alright.”
Professor Late sent Alex off with a face clouded by a mix of anxiety and apology. A chance of winning? Honestly, that was too much to hope for. He simply hoped Alex could do his absolute best.
“Don’t be nervous; just give it your all. This is all valuable experience for you.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
As Alex climbed onto the stage, Late turned to Patrick.
“How do you see it?”
“See what? The match?”
“……”
“You’re not asking because you don't know, are you?”
At Patrick’s words, Professor Late let out a heavy sigh.
“He can’t win, can he?”
“Come on, with a skill gap that wide, it’d be shameless to even hope for a win.”
Patrick smirked. Normally, he would have told Alex, ‘Don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t even think about losing; cling to him like a rabid dog.’ But…
This is actually quite surprising.
The skill gap was not something that could be bridged by such words. Alex was also a genius who had carved his way into the 4-Star realm through his own strength, but this was beyond comparison.
The Sword Saint’s grandson, huh… If the grandson is this good, I’m starting to wonder just how strong the grandfather is.
Between the explosive force shown by Antorius from the Holy Kingdom and this, Patrick was beginning to re-evaluate the level of martial arts in this world.
“Begin!”
At the referee’s signal, Alex took a solid stance. He held his kite shield in front and gripped his longsword at an angle. He glared intently at his opponent.
The opponent’s armament was a single bastard sword. He had no shield, and his armor was merely light brigandine. Alex slowly approached him as he held his sword politely with both hands.
I don’t feel any particular pressure. In fact…
He almost looked like an easy target. Since there was none of the overwhelming pressure typical of facing a powerhouse, Alex began his attack, sticking faithfully to the basics.
“Hah!”
With a sharp shout, he lunged with a thrust that sliced through the air. The opponent parried it with a textbook defensive maneuver and countered with a thrust of his own. Alex quickly raised his shield to deflect the attack and tried to close the distance.
The opponent took a half-step back and swung his sword again. Alex swung his longsword to block it.
A contest of strength ensued. With their swords locked, Alex and Garcia leaned forward, pushing against each other to gain the advantage.
“Hnnngh!”
Judging that he wasn't losing in terms of raw strength, Alex powerfully shoved his enemy forward.
Screeeech!
Alex’s eyes sparkled as he pushed his opponent back with the sharp sound of grinding metal.
This is my chance!
A golden opportunity seized against a titan. To capitalize on it, Alex stepped forward and swung his sword rapidly. His longsword, saturated with Aura, lashed out at Garcia, who also coated his bastard sword in Aura to meet the attack.
Boom! Clang! Crash! Bang!
A full-scale exchange using Aura unfolded, and the audience began to buzz.
“What? This is….”
“He’s fighting better than I thought.”
“Is the opponent that strong? Alex Rowenski? I’ve never heard that name before.”
“But he’s fighting on par with that Garcia, isn't he?”
“He actually looks like he has the upper hand. He’s pushing him back.”
“Now that you mention it….”
The spectators were quite shocked. To them, Garcia was the grandson of the Sword Saint and the greatest genius on the continent. For such a man to be locked in an even struggle with an unknown youth from the weak Atronia Kingdom?
It meant one of two things: either this youth named Alex was incredibly strong, or…
“Is he weak?”
“He doesn't seem that different from the other contestants.”
“No way. They said this youth has talent that surpasses the Sword Saint in his younger days.”
“Was it just a false rumor? Maybe the Empire spread it wrong….”
The crowd was in an uproar. The exchange happening before their eyes was thrilling and intense, but it wasn't what the audience had expected. They had been looking forward to seeing just how overwhelming the grandson of the Sword Saint would be.
But to think he was only at this level?
In particular, Antorius of the Holy Kingdom, who had been watching Garcia closely, was trembling, his fists clenched tight.
Is that… is that all he is?
How much blood, sweat, and effort had he poured into his training since childhood just to defeat this man? Although they had never met, Garcia had been a formidable wall to overcome and a life goal for Antorius. But now that he was seeing the reality of his goal, he felt a sense of betrayal that went beyond disappointment.
What was all that hardship for? To think I spent those grueling years just to surpass someone of that caliber…
Antorius squeezed his eyes shut. The sight before him was so disappointing that he couldn't bear to watch.
“That… little… shit…!”
And there was another man trembling with rage.
“Calm down, Mr. Schneider.”
“Calm down? You think this is something to be calm about?”
“……”
“Ugh, I’m seriously losing it… I knew the kids these days were full of themselves, but this brat is on a whole different level. He’s a goddamn rainbow of arrogance.”
Patrick was fuming, and Professor Late was trying to restrain him. The comrades from the Atronia Kingdom, who had been clenching their fists at Alex’s valiant struggle, looked on with confused expressions.
“Why are you like this when Alex is fighting so well?”
When Isabella finally asked, Patrick snapped back irritably.
“Fighting well? My ass! He’s being toyed with!”
“Toyed with?”
“Yeah. That Garcia brat, or whatever his name is, is just playing around. He’s just messing with Alex, who’s fighting for his life with every ounce of strength he has.”
“What?”
“No way….”
“Surely he wouldn't go that far….”
“Look! Just look and you’ll see!”
As Patrick spoke through gritted teeth, their eyes turned back to the arena. And slowly, a gap large enough for even them to notice began to emerge.
“Kh!”
Alex swung a horizontal slash with all his might. The opponent narrowly dodged the blade aimed at his waist. Then came the counter.
A horizontal slash, identical to Alex’s own attack, grazed Alex’s waist.
“Ugh….”
Alex gritted his teeth again and thrust his sword. A strike aimed at the face. The opponent lightly parried it, and then something sharp whistled through the air, lightly touching the tip of Alex’s nose before retreating.
It was the same after that.
The head, the legs, the wrists.
Every attack Alex aimed was neutralized, followed by an identical attack that pulled back just before causing a wound.
When did it start?
Every move was being countered and immediately mirrored. It was as if he were being lectured: ‘No. That’s wrong. Look. This is how you do it.’