264. Knights of Charlemagne vs Rin - Petals of the Great Crimson Lotus (13)
264. Knights of Charlemagne vs Rin - Petals of the Great Crimson Lotus (13)
***
Clang! Clang! Clang-clang-clang-clang!
The match was unfolding with Serin in overwhelming control.
Unlike her previous matches, Serin's relentless assault—pressing forward and swinging her sword without pause—was aimed at overwhelming her opponent through pure aggression,
and Roland, meeting that onslaught, was somehow managing to parry every blow, refusing to allow any decisive, critical damage.
The scene resembled a razor-sharp spear thrusting countless times, barely held off by a small shield.
And yet, even within a situation where the outcome seemed obvious.
"...Still a bit rough for him?"
"Seems like it."
The Knights of Charlemagne players seated in the stands watched the match without much surprise.
The divine prowess Rin had displayed in the earlier matches was certainly impressive, but conversely, the current situation of Roland being pushed back was nothing out of the ordinary for them.
Roland's combat style—adapting more and more each time he clashed swords with an opponent—was certainly unusual.
But it was also the biggest reason none of the other players had any objection to him serving as team captain.
The epithets of an impenetrable shield, an unbreakable wall of iron, belonged to Jeanne d'Arc, so Roland never received much attention.
But they already knew.
That no matter who he faced, Roland would not go down easily.
Back when he first faced Jeanne d'Arc, he had been pushed back pitifully, but now, even against Jeanne d'Arc, Roland could hold the front line to some extent.
Which was why, in team matches, Roland's true worth emerged when they coordinated together.
And as proof of that.
Roland's movements, gradually fending off Serin's offense, were beginning to find a measure of composure.
But as the match progressed, the watching Knights of Charlemagne players found themselves surprised by Roland.
"Sihyeon seems... different today, doesn't he?"
As Yena watched Roland and spoke with wonder, Seojin, seated nearby, let out a small laugh and looked at her.
"You can see it too?"
Even at Seojin's cryptic question, Yena nodded immediately.
"Yes. It's like he's more... motivated than usual? I can't put it exactly, but his skill seems really different."
Seojin found himself unconsciously agreeing with Yena's tone, as if she were simply happy about it.
And now, halfway through the scrim—five matches in—he finally felt like he understood the meaning of this scrim.
'Did the front office intend this?'
Rin's skill, now that he had faced her directly, was undeniably outstanding.
She was displaying overwhelming ability, enough to bring Jeanne d'Arc to mind in an instant.
But would that alone give this scrim real meaning? That thought, too, had been lingering in the back of his mind.
They had already finished the season disastrously and been eliminated from the playoffs.
He had worried that facing an opponent beyond expectations might crush the team's morale, but strangely, reality was the opposite.
Everyone felt regret even in defeat, but no one lost their fighting spirit.
Half of them had come to acknowledge Rin, and were now looking forward to the next time they would face her.
And more than anything, Roland's performance in this scrim was the most impressive thing of all.
The biggest reason the team's results had declined since the summer season began.
—Roland, the team captain. His form wasn't what it used to be.
The other Knights of Charlemagne players had also unconsciously realized that Roland's form had dropped.
Mina was the only one who had openly voiced that dissatisfaction after the playoffs, but everyone else had privately agreed to some extent.
The ACK Pro League match format was best-of-three.
And since the first and second matches of each series were team matches, Roland's role—holding the front line without a single gap—was far larger than it seemed.
He, who had once held the front line rock-solid with dazzling performances, had at some point become nothing more than an ordinary knight holding the line.
After his form declined, the team's slump was perhaps inevitable.
Each and every player on the team had gathered because of Roland.
Because their cornerstone player had wavered, the season's results had crumbled, and there was nothing to be done about it.
All season long, he had outwardly told everyone to stay strong and energetically encouraged the other players, but poor results were more fatal to a pro player than anything else.
Even so. The team didn't blame him.
No—they couldn't blame him.
'That guy must have been hurting a lot all this time.'
Because they knew he worked harder than anyone else on the team.
He was the one who woke up earliest every morning and practiced for hours, and the one who fell asleep last at the end of the day was none other than him.
So even though the summer season results were disastrous, no one showed it outwardly.
They were all working hard as pro players themselves, but when someone right beside them was working twice, three times as hard—how could they blame him just because the results weren't coming?
Still, in that moment when they were eliminated from the playoffs, even he had felt a flash of resentment toward the guy. But the moment their elimination was confirmed, seeing him grieve at the end of the match as if the world had collapsed, that feeling melted away like snow.
It was obvious he was hurting the most in that moment, so no one could even bring themselves to speak to him.
'And today, he's definitely different.'
But now, Roland's form in the Colosseum was visibly regaining its composure, enough to evoke memories of those days.
Even as Rin's offense grew sharper, the blond knight thoroughly blocked and moved his sword.
His gaze carried a sharp edge, as if from his prime.
BOOM!
At that moment, a massive boom rang out and the distance between them widened again. As Rin readied her sword with a faintly puzzled expression, Seojin felt oddly satisfied.
"...Please."
Then, glancing to the side, he saw Yena with her hands clasped together, staring intently at Sihyeon.
She was even murmuring words now and then, as if cheering desperately—cute and fascinating at the same time.
'She's really devoted, this one.'
She was more focused and immersed in this match than when she herself was playing.
***
BOOM!
As the clash of swords sent them both recoiling, Serin kicked lightly off the ground to shed the impact, blinking as she looked at her opponent.
WHOOOOSH!
Dust rose from the force of the impact, but as the wind blew it away, the blond knight radiating pure white light came into view.
Serin found herself wondering.
'How is this possible?'
They had already exchanged blows dozens of times.
And yet she hadn't managed to land any meaningful critical hit.
Her first impression had been that, while it might take some time, he wouldn't live up to expectations.
Thinking back to that assessment from just moments ago, what was happening now made no sense.
The more they exchanged swords, the more solid her opponent became.
Roland, who she had thought lacked any distinct strengths, was gradually erasing his openings and holding the front line like a wall.
Even as she attacked more sharply and deployed various techniques, he responded to all of it in kind—it was baffling.
Tap!
As she was thinking this, she saw Roland kick off the ground.
Roland's Durandal, wreathed in pure white light, surged forward like a beam, and Serin calmly met it with her sword.
CRACKLE!
As their swords locked and clashed fiercely, Serin's body was slowly pushed back.
It was the natural result of the strength difference between the Knight and Dancer classes, but Serin was watching Roland with questioning eyes.
'It doesn't make sense for someone's skill to rise this much mid-match.'
And yet it was hard to deny that Roland's momentum had shifted at some point.
What had triggered it?
'Or was he hiding his skill?'
As all sorts of thoughts ran through her mind, Roland suddenly met her gaze, and she saw clean eyes tinged with a faint blue light.
"..."
"..."
Staring into those blue eyes that seemed to hold a sharp edge, Serin slowly twisted her sword and let the force slide off.
SWISH!
As their locked blades smoothly slid past each other into empty space, Serin activated a skill.
—Knight's Oath.
As the body-enhancing skill manifested, a faint blood-red aura rippled and settled over Serin's body.
Roland, noticing the change, put strength into his sword and swung, activating a skill of his own.
—Judgment of Radiance.
Following Roland's upward diagonal slash, Durandal flared with brilliant light and surged along a strange trajectory, bursting forth as if unleashing countless clusters of light.
FWIP-FWIP-FWIP-FWIP-FWIP!
As countless clusters of light surged in, seizing control of the space, Serin deployed a skill of her own.
—Form of the Great Wave.
Her body, wreathed in blood-red energy, slowly rotated, creating a massive surge of crimson in an instant.
SWISH!
As a massive wave-like aura of blood-red swept outward from Serin's body,
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
The countless incoming clusters of light were swept off their original paths as if caught in the crimson wave, hammering into the innocent ground of the Colosseum.
Watching the light clusters strike across the arena, Serin kept Roland in her sights.
Roland was raising his sword high, taking up a distinctive stance.
'Judgment of Heaven?'
Guessing what skill her opponent was about to use, Serin raised her own sword high and began to prepare.
WHOOOOM!
As if condensing pure white light, power gathered heavily into Roland's Durandal, and on Serin's raised Durandal as well, a deeper crimson began to spread over the blood-red blade.
"..."
The moment they faced each other, signaling the imminent use of massive skills.
A quiet stillness settled over the Colosseum.
Even though both wielded the same sword—Durandal—the techniques used by a Knight and a Dancer were completely different, and even their current responses were different.
Roland was a knight who specialized in techniques utilizing light—a so-called "Knight of Light" among knights.
Each of his techniques was as fast as light and carried immense power, but in exchange, the variations were monotonous, consisting only of straightforward, linear attacks.
Conversely, when a Dancer wielded a one-handed sword, she gained access to numerous sword-related techniques, but several characteristic techniques underwent significant transformation.
"..."
And then Roland, having gathered all his power, slowly began to move.
His two hands, gripping the raised sword, moved with infinite slowness—and with perfect, unwavering precision—cutting straight down the front.
—Judgment of Heaven.
What poured from Durandal as it swung along Roland's hands was nothing short of a massive eruption of light—no, a great rapture of light that seemed intent on dyeing the entire space pure white.
Facing it, Serin deployed her own skill.
—Petals of the Great Crimson Lotus.
Serin's hand, which had been cutting the raised sword through the air, traced an unbelievable transformation in an instant.
The moment the sword cut through space, countless blood-red lines were drawn, and at their ends, brilliant and beautiful red flowers bloomed, displaying their gorgeous forms.
————!!
Immediately after, a massive red lotus bloomed in the air, large enough to cover Serin's body, and began generating enormous red petals in an instant.
The moment the colossal light surged forward.
The red petals that began unfolding layer upon layer in an instant numbered eighteen in total.
They were beautiful petals that only a Dancer could unfold.