Chapter 79
Chapter 79
Saint, You’re So Vulgar! – Chapter 79
The outcome of the match required no lengthy explanation.
No matter how much he was an executive of the Big Ten mercenary corps revered for making it to the main tournament, Asher was no opponent that a mere city-level expert could handle.
Even if he was trapped in a woman's body.
Slash
"Guhk!"
"Good work."
His opponent, whose upper garments had been shredded, knelt down trembling.
There was something poignant about the sight of the hairy man shyly covering his chest that tugged at the viewer's heartstrings.
But Asher showed no pity.
He merely looked down at him with cold eyes.
"Watch your words. If you want to live long."
Just before the match began, that man had spewed insults at Asher.
How did your brother's dick taste? How about me instead of that weakling...?
He couldn't deny that his hand had been heavy from the mere thought of such nauseating language.
Combined with swinging his sword emotionally, and since this body wasn't suited for refined swordsmanship, red lines were etched across the man's skin here and there.
Scars would remain.
Asher thought it was self-inflicted.
"Th-the winnerrrr! Cold! When facing someone other than her brother, her eyes burn with murderous sibling vibes!!! Advancing to the round of 32 with shocking swordsmanship!!!"
"Waaaaah!!!"
Asher felt shame at the cheers ringing out.
Blushing with a sullen face, she trudged out of the arena, and a few men let out sighs at the sight.
Upon arriving at the waiting room, the first to greet her was Halia.
"Good work! But that was too advanced swordsmanship for you. You could've had your throat slit if you weren't careful?"
Her emotional strikes must have come across as inexperience.
In hindsight, avoiding unnecessary suspicion due to her unskilled swordplay might actually be a good thing.
As Asher gave an awkward smile, Halia poked Versia's waist.
"You rascal, even if she's a saintess, don't teach her anything too extreme. One physical saintess is enough for me!"
"I'll keep that in mind."
Versia smoothly brushed off Halia's reaction and approached.
"Good work."
Asher chuckled softly at the whisper.
Gester finally seemed to understand, letting out an "Ah" and laughing.
"No wonder it felt familiar. It was the vice captain's quicksword."
That was right.
What she'd just used was the quicksword of Tidi'as, the Thunder God Sword who had been vice captain of the Trevion Mercenary Corps.
She'd tried to hide it, but if someone thought about the connections, it was obvious.
If even Gester was suspicious, she'd have to be more careful using it from now on.
"Anyway, everyone's made it to the round of 32! Good work, all of you!"
It was only natural. Among the participants, one was a full-fledged 1st Class Knight, Versia wielded an overwhelmingly superior body, and Asher was someone whose repertoire of sword techniques others couldn't match.
Even knowing that, Halia praised them because raising a mercenary corps was clearly a game to her taste.
The mood was quite good.
Right after, Asher spoke.
"Now the real challenge begins."
At the round of 32, the core executives of the top Big Ten mercenary corps were gathered.
And among them, the one the Blue Sword was targeting had a single matchup.
"They've cleverly avoided us. The current Lion Corps."
"Sneaky bastards. They love schemes and tricks, so they've rigged the bracket too. The opponents they're facing right now are all favorable matchups."
Gester's expression darkened.
It was only natural. That Lion Corps had colluded with the royal family to slander and topple Kuolin.
"To face them, we'll need at least the semifinals. And..."
Gester groaned.
Diego and Versia did the same.
"...It looks like they want us to knock ourselves out."
In the round of 32, Asher faced Gester. In the round of 16, Diego faced Versia.
Their intent to eliminate themselves before the quarterfinals was clear.
"We have the right to decide who advances."
At those words, they all looked at each other.
Halia's decision was swift.
"Asher, forfeit in the round of 16. As a wanted criminal, drawing too much attention by going higher is trouble."
"Yes, I'll do that."
"And Versia, you... Hmm."
"I'll go up."
Asher spoke, and Gester objected.
"Wait, if we're talking win rates, I could..."
"I'll be more certain."
It was obvious judgment for Asher.
However, he overlooked that from the surroundings' perspective, it wasn't.
Right now, Asher wasn't the 1st Class Knight Asherhe was Saintess Versia.
"Hard to accept."
Gester was confident in his martial prowess. Though Versia had shown impressive swordsmanship, he didn't for a moment think he'd lose to her.
Asher belatedly realized and felt troubled, but changing her words now would be odd.
A competitive atmosphere formed.
Halia seemed to find it amusing and settled it that way for this matchup.
"Then both go all out. Winner advances."
"Didn't you just say one physical saintess is enough?"
"Hahaha! That's different from competition!"
Versia subtly tried to push for a decision, but it was futile.
Impulsive as she was, Halia was the eldest saintess and overall leader of this journey.
Versia sighed, and Asher smiled awkwardly.
Unexpectedly, she would cross swords with an old friend.
* * *
"You okay with this?"
It was the question that came right after the meeting ended.
Asher stated the certainty first.
"I'm fine. Didn't I tell you? Gester has never beaten me once. The closest was a draw in our first fight."
Ultimate technique overturns power differences.
Gester had put in great effort too, but techniques had their limits.
All the variations and extensions of the Hwaran Assassination Sword he mainly used were etched in Asher's mind.
It was a fight hard to lose.
"That wasn't what I was asking."
Asher jolted at the follow-up.
But what formed soon after was a clear smile.
"That's fine too. In fact, it's good."
Asher took a deep breath and added.
"He's a dear friend I'm truly glad to see, but I haven't been able to come clean about being Asher Trevion. Isn't this a chance that came along? Warriors speak with their swords. Vaern's oldest rule."
She could reunite with him through swords.
At least, thinking that way made it not so bad.
Versia said no more words of worry.
Asher added nothing unnecessary.
Thus, a day passed.
It was mere minutes before the tournament resumed.
"Well, off I go."
"I'll be back."
Gester and Asher rose from their seats.
An awkward atmosphere surfaced.
Between those about to clash swords, considering their apparent relationship, it was only natural.
Gester tried to lighten the mood with some banter.
"Don't worry, Asher. Since she's the one you serve, I won't go too hard."
"No need to worry about that."
"Miss... no, should I call you Saintess? Just because everyone learns Asher's swordsmanship doesn't make them Asher. I'm the prime example. I've trained my whole life but can only barely use one assassination sword. Didn't you say you've trained less than a year? You're growing fast, so it's easy to get cocky, but you and I are on different levels."
She knew it was laced with consideration and concern.
But as she'd told Versia the day before, Asher had no intention of taking the duel with her reunited friend lightly.
That was why it was provocation.
"His Highness lacks talent. That's why."
The words delivered with a smile definitely scratched Gester.
"Huh?"
He feigned leisure with a hollow laugh, but veins bulged on his forehead.
His eyes bulged, blood vessels rising in the whites.
His body trembled.
How was he still the same as in childhood?
Provoke him a little, and he flipped so easilyit was amusing.
"I'm sure you know how to respond."
With that, Asher lightly stepped out into the corridor.
From behind came a forced "Huh, hahaha!"
Thus, they entered the arena.
They faced each other, and Asher's expression turned serious when the time came.
'I can win, but he's no one to underestimate. What Gester learned is precisely that assassination sword.'
Dissecting it one by one with Versia's body required focus.
Because Hwaran's assassination sword would stab into any blind spot given.
Asher gripped two curved swords in reverse grip and lowered her stance.
Gester stood diagonally, shuriken between fingers in one hand, shortsword in the other.
The announcer shouted.
For now, even that vulgar nickname didn't faze her.
"Today's matchuphhh~! Ahh! Vaern's Ass Crusher versus the rising holy one, Sibling Tia, clashhhh!!!"
"Waaaaah!!!"
She let it flow in one ear and out the other, regulating her breathing.
Heightening her senses to the extreme, she read the air currents.
'Focus.'
She repeated inwardly.
No matter this body, she had no thought of losing to Gester, so her expression was utterly grave.
It was the moment the duel was about to begin.
"This brazen black goat bitch! I'll take your brother, so scram!!"
Asher's body froze.
Her mind went blank.
"I'll show you who's the real woman for him!"
The shrill falsetto and ugly expression in her declaration of war.
At Gester's words as Mila, her thoughts halted for a moment.
The instant Asher's expression blanked, the match began, and Gester closed the distance in a flash.
The mental attack was tremendous.
Enough to scatter even her resolve to maintain focus.
But Gester had overlooked something.
Grip
Asher instinctively felt visceral revulsion.
It transmitted his presence to her clearly in the realm of instinct.
Like startling and jerking away from a cockroach in one's peripheral vision.
Clang!
"Wha?!"
"......"
Asher blocked the shortsword without thinking, feeling chills.
The romantic reunion through swords after ten years, the duel she'd imagined.
All those thoughts ebbed away like the tide.
"Ahh! Winner takes the sugar daddy!!! This match has huge stakes!!!"
"Waaaaah!!!"
There was no such thing here.
The match turned into a fight between a cross-dressing man and a woman-man over one man.
Gester's facing expression, immersed in the act, was repulsive.
Asher shed tears inwardly.