Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: The Dormant Dragon Now Stretches (3)
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Theo let out a hollow chuckle inwardly.
‘The original target wasn’t something like this.’
The reason Theo had spread the rumors to gather people was to utterly crush those steeped in inferiority complexes and change the rumors about himself.
But it seemed there was something he hadn’t considered.
-These people were also swordsmen who carried the pride of Ragnar in their hearts.
He had assumed they would all rush at him at once when provoked.
Yet they surprisingly harbored a deep aversion to lynching.
Did they see it as a shameful act unbecoming of Ragnar swordsmen?
Moreover, the moment Theo revealed his true skills, they realized their mistake and bowed their heads.
It wasn’t just Sybil who showed this.
Most of the supervisors couldn’t even look him straight in the eye, or instead busied themselves stealing glances at Theo, their noses flushing red.
‘Well, this isn’t bad either.’
If the opponent sincerely apologized, responding properly was also the proper demeanor for a swordsman.
Theo released his own stance and performed a sword salute just like them.
“Theo Ragnar. An entry-level swordsman affiliated with the Rose Palace, and I have not yet taken a master as the Awakening Ceremony approaches.”
Sybil’s head snapped up.
She knew this was the ‘formal introduction’ that swordsmen exchanged before entering an official bout.
It meant he saw him not as a target for punishment, but as an equal sparring partner.
Her nose tingled slightly.
But Sybil held it back and responded in a resounding voice.
“Sybil Dray. Sword inspector affiliated with the South Gate Sword Station. I have learned the swordsmanship of the Kurey family and excel in swift sword strikes. I hope for a good match.”
Theo nodded and lowered his Zweihänder again.
Clang!
The two swords lightly clashed in midair.
They widened the distance and each assumed their own stance.
Whoooosh—
Battle spirit began to swirl around Theo once more.
Gulp!
Sybil swallowed dryly in tension and gripped her sword tightly.
It had been a long time since she’d stood in a formal bout like this, but Theo’s presence felt even greater than before.
Thump! Thump!
Meanwhile, why was her heart pounding like this?
Was it just tension?
Or...
‘Am I being swept up in Young Master Theo’s fervor...?’
Sybil’s thoughts ended there.
Because Theo was stepping forward.
Boom!
Swoooosh—
‘As expected, so fast!’
Her movements were so nimble it was hard to believe she wielded a Zweihänder.
But this time, Sybil didn’t panic and calmly raised her sword to mid-guard to block the attack.
Claaaaang!
“Urk!”
It felt like her chest had been hammered hard; Sybil staggered back several steps before channeling strength into her legs for a counter.
Clang-clang-clang-clang—
[You have received recognition from ‘Sybil Dray’.]
[Luck has increased by 1.]
[Acquired some experience points.]
‘Swift sword as her specialty, huh.’
Theo compensated for the Zweihänder’s sluggish movements due to its weight by forcibly squeezing the Dragon’s Heart for strength, blocking Sybil’s swift strikes one by one.
He deflected the assault slicing at his ankle with the flat of his blade and dodged the attack aimed at his nape by creating distance just barely, then closed it in one breath.
Heaven’s Path Reversal flowing into Paradise Lost—a linked sequence.
Boom-boom-boom!
Sybil was proving to be an excellent opponent to test his secret techniques in succession.
And...
Claaaaang!
Theo swung his Zweihänder upward with all his might.
Whoosh.
Sybil’s sword flew into the air and embedded itself into the training ground floor with a thud.
Sybil clutched her torn palm with her left hand, yet wore a bright expression unbefitting of defeat.
“I lost.”
“Good fight.”
As Sybil turned, her smile was brighter than ever.
Theo scanned the surroundings.
“Next?”
* * *
Gulp—
Gulp!
Dry swallows echoed from all around.
‘The rumors...’
‘Were true.’
‘If it were me against Sybil, could I even clash swords properly?’
At this moment, the supervisors all shared one thought.
-We want to join in too!
Everything Theo and Sybil had shown was firmly etched in their eyes, still shimmering like an illusion.
The courtesy before the bout,
The mutual respect,
The yearning for victory,
The fervor pouring out everything,
The acknowledgment of defeat,
And...
-Heat.
They strongly felt the impulse to be swept up in that heat together.
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
Everyone’s hearts pounded wildly.
Blood raced chaotically, drying their lips.
This wasn’t something you could understand with your head.
It was a primal emotion savored only heart-to-heart, shared solely among swordsmen.
“May... may I step forward?”
At that moment, someone stepped forward, swallowing dryly in tension.
Theo nodded, and the man’s face lit up as he performed a sword salute.
“Eod Narlan. Third son of Viscount Narlan family. I have mastered the swordsmanship ‘Two Ascensions’.”
“Ragnar of the Rose Palace. Let’s have a good match.”
Clang!
Theo and Eod lightly clashed swords and began their bout.
Flash—
[You have received recognition from ‘Eod Narlan’.]
[Luck has increased by 1.]
[Acquired some experience points.]
And so the second bout,
[You have received recognition from ‘Venyat Remiro’.]
[Luck has increased by 1.]
The third bout,
[You have received recognition from ‘Eric Moran’.]
[Luck has increased by 1.]
.
.
The fourth, the fifth...
Up until the ninth bout ended.
The heat that had set the training ground ablaze only grew hotter, never fading.
And with it, the swordsmen’s faces flushed redder and redder.
“Haa... haa...”
Theo sweated profusely, his body odor wafting.
Continuous bouts against these opponents, possessing spirits and skills far purer than Renden’s, certainly demanded considerable stamina even from him.
He looked precarious, as if he’d collapse at the slightest touch.
But the eyes gleaming through his disheveled hair were beyond his fifteen years.
A dragon.
It was like gazing into a dragon’s eyes.
No matter how much they called him a cripple or a wretch, Theo was ultimately a dragon’s descendant, born of Ragnar blood.
The supervisors felt immense gratitude for being present at the moment this dragon stretched its limbs.
“Next.”
The sharply honed dragon eyes swept over the supervisors again.
“Who’s next?”
The supervisors hesitated.
They wanted to beg for a chance to cross swords too, but Theo looked so exhausted—could they really?
“You seem quite fatigued. How about postponing to another time? No one here doubts your skills anymore.”
“I’ll rest when I decide to. Not yet.”
“If you insist... then allow me to request this bout.”
A young man who had only watched from behind until now unfolded his arms and stepped forward.
Short silver hair slicked back with pomade.
A tall frame unfit for his youthful face.
His refined gaze bespoke a well-mannered scion of a prestigious house.
In that instant, Theo’s eyes sparkled.
‘Finally stepping up.’
Truth be told, the reason Theo had insisted on continuing the bouts was this man.
[Observing ‘Wellington Narsio’.]
+
Wellington Narsio (15 years old/Male)
· Title: Heir of Narsio
· Talents: Swordsmanship genius. Sensitive senses. Effort worm.
· Status: Astonished by the appearance of an unexpected rival.
+
Among the vassal and knightly families supporting Ragnar, the six most powerful are called the ‘Six Snow Houses’.
The Narsio family was one of the most renowned among them.
Wellington was the sole heir of such a Narsio house, a talent who would one day elevate his family to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Ragnar.
Ragnar had checked Narsio so harshly back then that Narsio eventually withdrew from the Six Snow Houses, sparking a major battle.
The title Wellington earned then was ‘Lion of the Snowfields’.
Meaning a fierce beast trying to bite the dragon-kin Ragnar’s leash.
But Theo remembered him differently.
-A genius he wanted to surpass.
Fifteen.
Wellington was the same age as Theo.
They had undergone the Awakening Ceremony at the same time and been thrown into real combat simultaneously.
But the results were opposites.
Wellington always shone, while Theo lurked in the shadows.
Theo had always envied such a Wellington.
He was one of the people Theo desperately wanted to meet at the Awakening Ceremony.
‘To run into him here, of all places.’
Moreover, Theo could read the emotion in Wellington’s eyes.
Competitive spirit.
Or perhaps fighting spirit.
‘To think someone like him... wants to test himself against me? That means I’ve grown this much?’
Thump-thump-thump!
His heart raced for some reason.
The fact that he could now cross swords as an equal with the peer he’d only admired in his previous life.
‘Can I do it in my current state?’
Theo coldly assessed his remaining stamina.
A prolonged fight was definitely out.
Wellington was a genius among geniuses who had shaken the North since age five.
Even at full strength, victory wasn’t guaranteed.
‘Still, if we clash!’
But the intense desire to face his past idol straightened his resolve.
‘A short battle is the only way.’
Thud!
Theo silently plunged his Zweihänder into the training ground floor.
An abrupt action.
Wellington’s eyebrow twitched.
“Surrendering?”
“As if.”
“Then let’s begin.”
Wellington slowly assumed his stance.
“My name is Wellington Narsio. Lower knight of the Narsio house. I came early to witness the swordsmanship of our lord Ragnar before my own Awakening Ceremony. And here, I’ve achieved my purpose and gained the chance to cross swords with you. I am grateful.”
“Theo Ragnar. Thirty-first son of ‘Kyle Ragnar’, the great guardian dragon of the North and lord of the Winter Mountains, and an entry-level swordsman preparing for the Awakening Ceremony. I am grateful for the chance to cross swords with the famed heir of Narsio.”
Theo caught his breath and responded politely.
But in that moment, Wellington’s expression flickered briefly before returning to normal.
Specifically, at the part about being ‘Kyle’s son’.
‘Already conscious of the status gap with the main family at this point?’
As Theo thought that,
Flash!
Flash—
The two moved simultaneously.
Wellington focused on Narsio’s famed swift sword, aiming for Theo’s forehead.
Theo squeezed the Dragon’s Heart to its limit, exploding strength in an instant, and yanked the Zweihänder upward with overwhelming power.
A one-strike-kill draw relying solely on brute force.
Claaaaang!
An ear-shattering metallic clash rang out, and something flew into the air.
“F-Fast!”
“How did he even move? I couldn’t track the speed!”
“Huh?”
“That’s...!”
The supervisors exclaimed in admiration, then realized the half-broken sword flying was Wellington’s.
-Wellington won, huh.
The thought crossed the supervisors’ minds simultaneously, but they didn’t voice it.
Though it felt like an obvious outcome, they knew how incredible Theo’s tenacity had been so far.
They felt regret at the thought of ending Theo’s bouts here.
On one hand, disappointment as Ragnar swordsmen that he couldn’t defeat Narsio.
But then.
“...I have lost. Thank you for granting me a good match.”
Suddenly, Wellington bowed formally to Theo.