Chapter 401: The Banquet at the Sword Emperor Castle (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 401: The Banquet at the Sword Emperor Castle (6)
The central sparring hall of the Sword Emperor Castle was renowned as the largest in the world.
It was a place few outsiders ever had the chance to see unless they were direct vassals of the Hairan Clan. As the guests filed in, they couldn’t help but gasp at the absurdly vast and long arena stretching out before them.
In the center of the hall, the knights of Hairan stood in perfect formation.
At Ron’s signal, the knights split to the left and right, forming a path to the spectator stands. The seats filled quickly and with disciplined order.
Soon, only Jin and Rata remained, facing each other in the middle of the arena. Ron took his place between them.
Despite the massive crowd, not a single breath could be heard. Everyone was silently rooting for their chosen champion.
“Rata Prochi. Jin Runcandel.”
“Yes, Lord Ron.”
“Yes.”
“I am not aware of the history between you two. However, as a senior martial artist and the Master of the Sword Emperor Castle, I will offer one piece of advice.”
“Please, speak.”
“Refrain from killing or permanently maiming your opponent. Should anyone violate this, they will have to answer to my blade.”
In truth, these words were directed at Rata. Even those ignorant of their history could see the blatant hostility radiating from him. Killing during a banquet was strictly forbidden, even at a Runcandel Single-log Bridge Party.
“I will keep that in mind.”
“Glory to the victor, and a lesson for the defeated. I expect a magnificent battle worthy of my grandson and the esteemed guests gathered here.”
As Ron retreated toward the stands, a knight at the edge of the arena struck a massive drum with all his might.
Boom—!
It was the signal for the duel to begin. Before the sound of the drum could even fade, Rata made the first move.
Like Fey, he wielded twin swords.
Clang—!
The two blades collided with Sigmund, producing a thunderous roar that made the spectators’ heads ring.
As expected, his strikes are heavy.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the reinforced floor where they stood. Those in the audience who hadn’t anticipated such a violent exchange from the very start were visibly shaken.
“Since you are my senior by many years and possess such a grand reputation, I thought you might yield the first move to me,” Jin said.
“I have no affection for a brat like you, so don’t expect any courtesies.”
Jin smirked.
“Well, if we ignore seniority and reputation and look purely at our martial skill, I suppose this is how it should be.”
Rata couldn't even muster the energy to be angry at those words.
He had felt it the moment their swords met.
The rumors about the chaos he’d caused in the Garden of Swords… they weren’t lies.
His twin swords, ‘Ghost,’ trembled against the overwhelming energy radiating from Jin. A chill ran down Rata’s spine, following the vibration of his blades.
He was strong.
Rata had originally believed that Jin had survived either through sheer luck or because his subordinates had made a mistake. Even setting aside his younger brother, who had joined the mission in secret, he had thought failure was impossible with someone like Grimol leading the charge.
But he was wrong.
I should have led the mission myself from the start. Or at least sent a team composed entirely of captain-level fighters like Grimol.
He had underestimated the weight of the title ‘12th Flagbearer.’
Though it wasn't public knowledge, Rata had once fought and defeated another Runcandel flagbearer in the past.
Boom! Crash! Skreeee!
The three swords continued to clash, creating a series of explosive sounds.
Rata acknowledged Jin’s strength, but that didn't mean his anger had subsided. Furthermore, he still believed he wouldn't lose. Rata was a man who had overcome countless powerful enemies throughout his life—every single one, without exception.
Even enemies who had seemed absolutely invincible had eventually been brought to their knees. The future of the 12th Flagbearer before him would be no different.
Jin, on the other hand, felt almost no pressure.
Even accounting for Ron’s strict order not to kill, Rata’s swords didn’t feel particularly threatening. This was true even as the twin blades grazed his nose or lunged for his throat moment after moment.
…Have I only been fighting ridiculously strong opponents lately?
It hadn’t even been a month since he had fought for his life against the entirety of Runcandel. In that battle, Jin had crossed the threshold of death several times, which meant he had broken through his limits just as often.
To put it simply, his swordsmanship had matured. It now contained an insight far beyond his years, a depth that even masters of high realms could not easily fathom.
It felt as if he could see the trajectory of Rata’s swords before they even moved.
“It looks like the 12th Flagbearer of Runcandel is being pushed back.”
“It’s still too early for him to overcome the Ghost Captain.”
Those who lacked a certain level of mastery saw it that way.
However, the true martial artists, those who could read the flow of battle, were struggling to hide their shock.
“Is that really the 12th Flagbearer?”
“At this rate, the Ghost Captain will surely lose.”
Amidst the conflicting evaluations, Ron was certain of one thing.
Jin and Rata were already living in different worlds.
That devilish brat has already entered the ranks of the Superhumans… The Ghost Captain has impressive potential, but he is still lingering in the world of mortals.
The strongest of mortals versus the weakest of Superhumans.
That was the nature of this fight. On the surface, it looked like Jin was stepping back, but it wasn't because he was being cornered; it was because he had the leisure to parry the attacks with ease.
Ron turned his gaze toward his grandson.
Sure enough, Dante looked almost entranced, like a believer witnessing a god.
One might expect you to feel jealousy or a sense of rivalry, yet you are simply thrilled by your friend’s achievements.
A strange feeling washed over Ron.
He had always believed he was the only person Dante would ever look at with such reverence. As a child, Dante had always looked at him that way, viewing Ron as the final destination he must one day reach.
The moment that thought crossed his mind, Ron suddenly realized the biggest difference between Dante and Jin.
Jin Runcandel—that monster—is different from my dear grandson…
He has no final destination.
To that boy, his father, the world’s strongest knight, Cyron Runcandel, was likely nothing more than a ‘wall’ to be overcome. He probably believed the true peak he had to surmount lay somewhere far beyond even that.
Realizing this sent shivers down Ron’s spine.
It had been a very long time since he had felt such an emotion while watching someone else fight.
Slash—!
Suddenly, a spray of blood arched through the air.
It was Jin’s blood. The twin swords had cut the back of his hand. Had it been any deeper, the hand might have been severed.
Jin hurriedly widened the distance.
At least, that was how it looked to Rata.
You should have lunged in and gambled on a decisive strike, 12th Flagbearer!
The twin swords fell in a diagonal arc. It seemed impossible for Jin, his posture already broken, to dodge the attack.
He cut him.
No, he should have cut him. The moment his twin swords sliced through empty air, Rata felt the world grind to a halt.
He’s not there! The distance was perfect…!
The next thing Rata saw was a single point of light.
It was the tip of Jin’s sword. He couldn’t comprehend when Jin had unleashed such a piercing thrust.
Spurt!
A drop of blood flew from Rata’s cheek. He had narrowly avoided disaster by turning his head just before Sigmund could connect. It was an evasive maneuver possible only for a martial artist of his caliber.
However, Rata knew.
He intentionally aimed for my face so I could avoid a fatal wound.
In a fight, the face was one of the most critical vital points. However, it was also the easiest to defend. A slight turn of the head or a quick duck could deal with most attacks aimed at the face. Because of this, duels between masters more often ended with fatal wounds to the body rather than the neck or head.
If Jin had aimed for his heart, Rata would have suffered an injury that would have forced him to concede, no matter how he responded.
Grind…!
He trembled with humiliation.
“Fight properly, Jin Runcandel.”
“What’s the problem now?”
“You intentionally aimed for my face…”
“I aimed for your face because I judged it to be the safer option. If I had aimed for your heart or abdomen, you would have counterattacked, even at the risk of death, Lord Rata.”
It wasn’t a lie.
If that had happened, Jin couldn’t have known what kind of injury he might sustain in return, and one of them would have certainly died or suffered an equivalent wound.
“And if I were to fight ‘properly,’ you would not survive, Lord Rata.”
Frustratingly, those words didn’t sound arrogant to Rata. They sounded like a simple statement of fact from someone who was clearly stronger.
“At least, that’s the case in this sparring hall. If this were a battlefield or my bedroom, the story might be different.”
The Ghost Squad’s purpose was not one-on-one duels. They were a mercenary group specializing in efficiently eliminating opponents stronger than themselves. Rata was their leader. That didn’t mean his individual martial power was lacking, but there was nothing to be done about a poor matchup.
For a while, the two stood still, staring at each other.
Some in the audience read it as a new phase of probing, while others saw it as a moment of silence acknowledging victory and defeat.
Rata felt ashamed.
He wasn’t ashamed of losing. He wasn’t even ashamed that he had picked a fight like a fool, failing to recognize his opponent’s true skill.
He was simply ashamed that he was less magnanimous than the fledgling standing before him.
Jin had spared his younger brother, the would-be assassin, and had yet to make any excessive demands of Rata. Meanwhile, Rata had been barking like a dog, terrified at the thought of losing his brother.
Amidst the silence, Jin suddenly felt a massive surge of energy being released from Rata.
His eyes looked like he’d accepted defeat, though.
Rata was thinking the same thing. He thought a dangerous energy was radiating from Jin, not himself. With the heart of a warrior accepting the outcome, Rata was about to tell Jin to take his due and cut him once. He thought it was only natural for Jin to be angry.
But that dangerous energy belonged to neither of them.
It was erupting from right beneath their feet.
“Get back!”
“Dodge!”
The two of them shouted simultaneously as they realized the truth.
In the next instant, the entire floor of the sparring hall split open as something massive surged upward. Ron was already moving to intercept, his sword drawn.