Chapter 210
Chapter 210
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 210
Chapter Title: Young Genius (1)
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Demian was a little impressed.
He hadn't particularly hidden his realm, but he hadn't expected the Sword Empress to recognize at a glance that he was Master Class.
As expected of the future Sword Empress, her senses were sharp.
"Y-You... are you really Demian Haksen?"
"I didn't expect there'd be another person in the world who looks like this."
Demian said, mixing in a joke. At that, the Sword Empress's eyes went wide.
"That arrogant tone... it really is Demian Haksen!"
"Who's calling who arrogant right now?"
"It's only been that long since we parted, and you've already become Master Class... This is impossible! I barely scraped into High Class after struggling between life and death!"
Rachel cried out as if in anguish.
In truth, reaching High Class at her age was an incredible growth rate.
The problem was that her point of comparison was Demian Haksen.
"I thought this time I'd finally pay back that defeat from before! But our realms have grown even further apart in the meantime! Where in the world is there such a law?!"
Rachel showed no signs of calming down easily. Demian decided to leave her alone for a moment.
"The youngest-ever Sword Saint became a Swordmaster before turning thirty, and the Empire's Greatest Sword reached Swordmaster in the year he turned twenty..."
Youngest Master Class in history.
Demian coveted that title too, but it was already far too late.
The point at which Demian had regressed was already past his twentieth year.
"There are only a handful of people who became Masters in their early twenties... and you..."
Before he knew it, Rachel had sunk into her own world. The shock must have been that great.
"...It's fantastical."
Suddenly, Rachel looked at Demian. Her eyes gleamed eerily.
"To think I get to challenge a genius like you to a duel—it's truly the best."
Rachel gripped the hilt of her sword. In that moment, an intense aura poured out from her.
It was similar to killing intent, yet different. Akin to hostility, but distinctly separate.
This was fighting spirit.
The emotion Rachel harbored was pure battle lust. In a word, she was itching to fight Demian.
"You recognized my realm, and you still want to fight?"
"Fighting a powerhouse like you will broaden my horizons all on its own. I can't pass up this chance."
Only now did Demian get a sense of what kind of person the Sword Empress was.
Unlike her appearance as a typical noble lady, she was a die-hard battle maniac.
"...Brother, who is this woman?"
At that moment, Michael asked from the side. Michael's face was tense.
Even though they were both High Class, Michael was overwhelmed by the fighting spirit radiating from Rachel.
It was unavoidable that Michael felt so suppressed.
'If we're talking pure talent, she's the superior one.'
In his previous life, Michael Ryanbloom had lost all will to live due to his overly brilliant sword genius and led a dissipated life.
Then, after being utterly crushed in defeat by the arriving Sword Empress, Rachel, he threw himself back into training.
But even after reaching Master Class, Michael never once beat the Sword Empress.
That was how phenomenal a genius the Sword Empress was. In the distant future, she would vie with the Empire's Greatest Sword for the title of humanity's strongest.
"She is the successor of the Lichtiaour Ducal Family."
"That crazy... no, that dangerously looking woman is the Lichtiaour Ducal Family's successor?"
It was natural for Michael to be shocked.
The battle lust the Sword Empress harbored was bizarre even in Demian's eyes.
'Well, for a genius, that's par for the course.'
Among the geniuses Demian had seen, there wasn't a single normal one. Excluding himself, that is.
"Demian, why are you just standing there? Don't tell me you think I'm not even worth the effort?"
Rachel said with an impatient face. She was that eager for a duel with Demian.
Conveniently, Demian was a little curious about just how strong the Sword Empress had become.
It was just as Demian was about to step forward to accept the duel.
"Raacheeel!"
From behind came a thunderous shout, and someone came charging out.
He was a man of enormous build, with a thick beard covering his face.
He wore fine clothes, but they didn't suit him at all. He looked like a bandit playing at being a noble.
"Sir Bradley? Why have you come out instead of waiting in the drawing room...?"
"How could you deceive me like this!"
"Pardon?"
Rachel made a bewildered expression.
"You said you didn't have any man you're seeing! Then what is that man?!"
The man pointed at Demian and yelled. Both Rachel and Demian wore dumbfounded expressions.
"W-What misunderstanding is this...? He's not that kind of relationship with me!"
"You were giving that man hot looks just now, and you expect me to believe that?"
Tears like chicken droppings fell from the man's face.
"All this time you ignored my feelings—it was all because of that man!"
"Absolutely not. So please don't make needless misunderstandings..."
The man wiped his eyes with his thick forearm. Then he strode toward Demian.
"My name is Bradley Hess! I want to hear your name!"
"...I'm Demian Haksen."
In that instant, Demian's eyes widened. He remembered hearing the name Bradley Hess somewhere.
'The Fist Emperor?'
During the Demonic War, there were Master Class individuals in the Empire called the New Generation, who struck fear into the hearts of black mages.
The New Generation were relatively young for Master Class, yet they had amassed far greater achievements than the aged veterans.
That was because their talents and skills surpassed the other Master Class.
Among that New Generation, the particularly powerful one was the Fist Emperor, Bradley Hess.
Having reached Master Class as a fist fighter, his entire body was a weapon. Once he set foot on the battlefield, no one could stop him.
At the same time, he was known in society as the ultimate romantic. He had courted the Sword Empress his entire life.
He had even changed his title for her sake.
Originally called the Tyrant's Fist Bear, one day he suddenly proclaimed himself the Fist Emperor.
-To match the Sword Empress, a man should be called the Fist Emperor, no?
However, not everyone saw it positively.
For one, the Fist Emperor lacked the prowess to claim himself as the Sword Empress's match. He had made a name for himself, but he couldn't compare to the Sword Empress, a candidate for humanity's strongest.
Above all, he was too old.
The age gap between them was over twelve years. With the Sword Empress just becoming an adult now, Bradley had already passed his thirties.
Demian knew no other information about the Fist Emperor.
That was because the Fist Emperor had already been killed by Pandemonium before Demian met him.
"Demian Haksen? I've heard the name. You're supposedly a representative High Class from the Apple Kingdom..."
Bradley Hess stared piercingly at Demian.
"Master Class? Were you hiding your realm?"
"No, on the way here to the Empire..."
"No matter. That's not the point. I have a request for you."
In that moment, Demian felt an ominous premonition that he was getting dragged into something troublesome.
"I want you to duel me right here."
"...Why should I?"
Demian looked at Bradley with a baffled expression.
"You're asking something obvious. Of course, it's to appeal to Miss Rachel—uh, uh, appeal!"
"Appeal?"
"That's right!"
Bradley pounded his chest as he spoke.
"Women are drawn to strong men, aren't they!"
Demian glanced at Rachel, asking with his eyes if she agreed.
Naturally, Rachel shook her head vigorously side to side.
Suddenly, he understood why the Sword Empress avoided the Sword Emperor in her previous life.
He was a ridiculous man, but on the other hand, Demian was curious.
Just how skilled had the man who called himself the Fist Emperor been in his previous life?
"Fine."
"Really?"
"I'd grant the requests of the dead, so how could I refuse the living?"
Demian raised his aura.
Right after, the surrounding air grew heavy. It pressed down on the Fist Emperor like a lump of iron.
"...!"
The Fist Emperor's eyes widened. But it was only for a moment.
"...Huu!"
The Fist Emperor took a deep breath and drew up his own energy.
Demian and the Fist Emperor's auras clashed in midair. The air was pushed back, creating a gust of wind.
"Impressive. There aren't many Master Class who can stand against this body of mine."
"The world is wide. So, where do you plan to do this?"
"Follow me. There's a training ground outside."
It was then that Bradley spoke.
"Grooo..."
The man slung over the soldier's back let out a strange noise and stretched.
"Ugh, uuu... my stomach's churning... I feel like puking..."
The man slid off the soldier's back onto the ground. He collapsed face-down and dry-heaved.
"Ugh... but where is this place?"
The man looked around. Then he spotted Demian and Bradley Hess.
"Oh ho?"
Suddenly, the man approached the two. He examined their bodies, exclaiming in admiration repeatedly.
"Oh ho, oh ho, oh ho ho ho."
"Who the hell are you... hey, where are you touching!"
Suddenly, the man began groping Bradley's body all over. Bradley freaked out and tried to shake him off.
But the man dodged Bradley's hands nimbly while fondling various parts of his body.
"Excellent. Thoroughly tempered. I can see how much grueling effort you've poured in."
"Hard to find a match in physical prowess alone! This is the ideal body of a fist fighter!"
"You've been Master Class for quite some time, yet you've grown this much in the interim. Your future looks promising."
The man nodded, full of admiration.
Only then did Bradley realize the man was no ordinary being.
"...And who might you be, sir?"
"Me? I discarded my name long ago. But if I say it like this, everyone seems to understand."
In response to Bradley's question, the man swept back the hair covering his face and said,
"They call me the Sword Saint."
* * *
At the man's introduction, the surroundings fell silent.
"Sounds like a lie."
"It's a lie, right?"
"Lie."
No one believed the man's words. Shocked by the reactions around him, the man was stunned.
"N-No, it's true. I am the Sword Saint..."
"I've seen the Sword Saint once from afar."
Bradley glared at the man with fierce eyes as he spoke.
"Even at over eighty years old, he had the youthful appearance of a young man. But you look like you've already passed middle age."
"Ah... so that's why you didn't recognize me."
The man gave a wry smile.
"Wait just a moment."
Suddenly, the man drew up his mana. In that instant, a massive wave rippled out.
It was merely a wave, yet everyone felt as if their entire bodies were shaken. Outside the window, startled birds flew up in a flock.
Steam rose from the man's entire body. At the same time, changes occurred on his face.
Wrinkles vanished, and his skin brightened. His dull eyes cleared up.
In the blink of an eye, the middle-aged man transformed into a young youth.
"Uh...?"
"Uh huh...?"
Shock appeared on everyone's faces.
Everyone except one—Demian.
'As expected of an extraordinary man.'
Sword Saint.
Along with the Empire's Greatest Sword, one of the two Master Class who symbolized the Empire.
His realm was so profound that he could even control the age of his own body at will.
Demian had recognized early on that this man was the Sword Saint.
That was why he had deliberately led him here without objection. Opportunities to bestow favors on a giant like the Sword Saint were rare.
The reason the Sword Saint wandered the streets living like a beggar was none other than this.
The Sword Saint had long surpassed the stage of swinging a sword for training.
To ascend to the next realm, what he needed was to refine his own state of mind.
For that, the Sword Saint wandered the streets, living like a beggar.
"Now you believe me, it seems."
The Sword Saint grinned. Everyone's heads slowly nodded up and down.
"By the way, I haven't checked your body yet."
The Sword Saint turned to Demian.
Since there was no stopping him anyway, Demian obediently spread his arms.
"Go ahead."
"Quick on the uptake, aren't you."
The Sword Saint immediately pressed against Demian and began groping his body.
"Oh ho? Oh ho ho?"
He let out exclamations of admiration nonstop. But it was only for a moment.
Suddenly, the Sword Saint's expression hardened. Soon, he said with a look of disbelief.
"What is this, some kind of madman?"
* * *
The Sword Saint continued, his face full of disbelief.
"Judging by the unstable mana, it seems you've only recently reached Master Class. How did you raise your body to this level?"
"A Master Class body is tough, sure... but this guy's gone too far. I almost mistook him for a humanoid monster."
"It's not just superior physical abilities. Every function of his body is optimized for combat. It's like looking at a honed blade."
"Anyone who makes an enemy of this guy—I almost feel sorry for them. It's downright chilling."
After pouring out his words for a while, the Sword Saint turned to Bradley and asked.
"You, planning to fight this guy?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Forget it."
The Sword Saint cut him off flatly.
"You can't win against him."