Chapter 29: Preparation (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 29: Preparation (4)
Hostile glares surrounded me. A mixture of jealousy and anger.
Thanks to the cadets' "warm" gazes, the back of my neck prickled. Whispers of slander drifted into my ears.
I kept my eyes on the Sword Emperor. His unmoving pupils were sharply honed, as if sizing up his opponent.
His muscles were tense, as if he were facing a worthy rival. With a robust posture, the Sword Emperor drew his sword.
Chring—
A clear ring, like morning dew, echoed through the air.
Gasps erupted from all around, filling the training ground. Cadets who had already chosen their weapons looked back and forth between their own swords and the Sword Emperor's. The students from other classes watching from the stands also widened their eyes.
It was undoubtedly an ordinary iron sword, yet the moment he held it, the blade gleamed like a legendary treasure.
I closed my eyes and opened them. A man who had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship was staring at me. The surrounding air felt heavy. The flow of the wind had artificially shifted.
The spacing of his feet, the grip on his hilt, and the angle of his sword tip aimed precisely at me—everything was flawless.
The commotion, which even Instructor Lee Won-bin's intervention couldn't quiet, vanished in an instant. Everyone, including myself, gasped and stared at the Sword Emperor as if admiring a masterpiece sculpture.
"Have your bones mended by now, boy?"
The Sword Emperor's voice snapped me out of my daze.
"Yes, well... I'm fine now."
"Then draw your sword."
I hesitated. No matter how much this was just a spar, this didn't feel right. It wasn't because I had just been discharged from the hospital. Having rested well, my physical condition was in peak shape.
Moreover, perhaps due to the influence of the Blessing of the Sword God, my instincts were screaming for a fight. However, the thread of reason I barely held onto rejected it.
My opponent was the Sword Emperor, Siegfried von Nibelung.
If I clashed blades with him, it certainly wouldn't end as a simple friendly match. At the very least, one of us would lose a hand if lucky, or a head if not.
Furthermore, too many eyes were fixed on the Sword Emperor and me. Just thinking about the butterfly effect that would occur if I accepted the spar gave me a headache.
Let's make a decent excuse and decline.
Having reached that conclusion, I bowed to the Sword Emperor and spoke.
"I am no match for you, Sword Emperor. Please, lower your sword."
Snickers of mockery rippled through the cadets. Whispers of "I knew it" and "he's totally chickening out" echoed.
They sure had it easy, throwing around whatever words they pleased since it wasn't their business. Honestly, if I swung my arm just once, most of their heads would say goodbye to their bodies.
I shifted my gaze slightly to check the Sword Emperor's face. Thick veins bulged at his temples, and his eyes flashed with a chilling, wrathful light. His face was clearly filled with anger.
"How long do you think you can live hiding your strength? You don't have a shred of respect for your opponent as a swordsman. What use is having outstanding talent? You are nothing but a cowardly, petty man."
His voice wasn't loud, so it didn't reach the ears of the other cadets. He continued ruthlessly.
"Do you have no pride as a swordsman?"
At those words, my right cheek twitched. The Sword Emperor clicked his tongue in disapproval.
Pride.
The very word I had engraved in my heart ever since I seized the title of the Nation's Best Swordsman. That single word was the reason I had never let go of my blade.
In the midst of this tense atmosphere, sweat poured like a waterfall down Instructor Lee Won-bin's forehead.
He looked like he wanted to stop it, but since his opponent was the Sword Emperor, he couldn't do a thing and could only stamp his feet in anxiety.
On the other hand, the Sword Emperor glared at me with no intention of backing down. Honestly, I knew all of his words just now were provocations meant to test me.
He was trying to gauge my skill by watching my reaction. It was obvious that if I hastily fell for his provocation, I would regret it for a long time.
I stretched my fingers out and clenched them. Blue veins bulged on the back of my tightly balled fist.
The eyes of the crowd were focused on me. Their faces were filled with anticipation.
They were wishing for me to run away like a coward. At that moment, something hot surged deep within my chest.
My hand flew to my waist like a magnet. My fingers fumbled over the hilt before drawing the blade.
Shring.
As I silently gripped my Sashimi, all eyes converged on me. To exaggerate slightly, their pupils dilated to twice their size.
Lee Won-bin tried to rush over in a panic, but the Sword Emperor stopped him with a gesture.
"It seems you've made up your mind."
One corner of the Sword Emperor's mouth curled up slightly.
As if he had been waiting for my decision, the Sword Emperor raised his sword. Only then did he show his delight, offering a formal greeting in a clear voice.
"Siegfried von Nibelung, the Sword Emperor. I request a match."
I swept the dirt floor once with my foot and took my stance. Then, with a flick of my wrist, the scabbard slid smoothly off the blade.
[The Blessing of the Sword God is activated.]
"Cadet Kang Geomma. I look forward to your guidance."
* * *
Pitch black.
Seen through superhuman concentration, only two men holding swords stood against a pitch-black backdrop.
Step, step.
The first to take a step was Siegfried.
His footsteps were light, as if he were going out to greet an old friend. His left hand firmly gripped his straight sword.
Hot blood pumped through a heart that had been cooling down as he entered the twilight of his life. The moment swords clashed, age became nothing but a triviality.
The sensation of being alive relaxed his stiff facial muscles, coaxing out a smile.
Siegfried traced back his childhood memories. It was an event from the old man's youth. Though he was now in his seventies, that moment remained vividly clear.
While training with his sword every day in the wild hills, he had chanced upon a wandering knight. The man was missing an arm, and his attire was shabby and filthy.
Yet, the sword path the knight demonstrated as an example had reached 'that realm.'
Enlightenment through the sword.
Siegfried focused on his opponent.
The boy he had kept his eye on since the class placement exam.
Though his body was still immature like a freshly sprouted plant, his eyes held a profound depth of experience.
For a split second, Kang Geomma and that one-armed wandering knight overlapped. Perhaps he is the clue that will lead me to an even higher realm, Siegfried thought.
His chest was hot. His blade was cold.
For a swordsman, that was more than enough. All they needed was healthy flesh and solid iron.
Facing Kang Geomma, Siegfried cast aside his title of Sword Emperor. He wanted to face this boy simply as a warrior.
Pat-pat-pat.
Siegfried's footsteps were as light as a youth's. He glided across the ground. The tip of his straight sword flashed like lightning, aiming for the Sashimi.
Swish!
The straight blade sliced through empty air. Siegfried did not panic. He quickly shifted his gaze and located Kang Geomma, who had leaped high into the air.
A faint smile spread across his wrinkled lips. He would have been disappointed if the boy hadn't shown at least this level of movement.
Whoosh!
The straight sword surged upward from below. It was the swordplay of an old master, bordering on art. Kang Geomma did not dodge; instead, he met the old man's offensive head-on.
Clang! Clang!
The clashing metals let out harsh, heavy rings.
His arms felt lighter than ever. The momentum of his swings was excellent.
Siegfried had already forgotten that this was just a spar.
Invisible silver trajectories crossed paths. The two blades repeatedly clashed and parted.
When the old man attacked, the boy parried; when the boy attacked, the old man deflected.
Siegfried responded with masterful skill to Kang Geomma's acrobatic movements.
From an unexpected angle, the pointed Sashimi flew in like a swallow. It was a miraculous, curving sword path. Siegfried parried it using the experience engraved into his very bones.
Every time their attacks locked, sparks flew violently like bursts of fire.
Melted into Siegfried's blade were his fully bloomed talent and the lifetime he had dedicated to the sword.
Within Kang Geomma's blade dwelt a mysterious, divine quality that seemed to transcend human limitations.
The two men continued their chilling conversation through the medium of their swords.
Though it was a clash of split seconds, it felt as if time had been artificially stretched.
Even within this stubbornly elongated time, only the Sashimi moved with an anomalous sense of speed.
Kang Geomma's hand movements were growing visibly faster by the second.
Even in a span of less than a minute, the boy was growing. Whenever his Sashimi drew an arc, a sharp sound echoed, as if space itself were being sliced open.
It was enough to make one chuckle in disbelief. Instead of letting out a laugh, the old master held his breath.
Magnificent.
Siegfried, the Sword Emperor, grinned, baring his teeth like a child.
Humanity's strongest warrior. The title of the absolute peak that every man dreamed of. He had seized that honor at an early age.
From long ago, those who could withstand Siegfried's sword were rare. And even they had eventually knelt before him.
At least, until half a century ago.
During the subjugation of Basmon, the 6th Corps Commander of the Demon King's Army, he had lost three of his six companions. The outcome was a victory, but it wasn't valuable enough to erase the price paid with his comrades' lives.
Even though Basmon was the weakest of the six Corps Commanders, he was absurdly strong. Seven of humanity's greatest forces had banded together to fight day and night for a week. Looking back now, it was a miracle they had won.
Though he was called humanity's strongest, before the Demon King's Corps Commanders, he must have seemed like a mere insect.
The Majin were absolute powerhouses, and humans were the weaklings who bowed to them. The world was just that absurd.
That was why, ever since that day, Siegfried had trained relentlessly, reflecting on the wandering knight's sword path. He swung his sword, moving shoulders that bore the heavy weight of humanity's hope.
And finally, at the age of seventy, Siegfried was barely knocking on the door of enlightenment.
Creak—
Kang Geomma, who had widened the distance between them, bent his waist and lowered his upper body. It was a posture that seemed to barely suppress the explosive power wanting to burst forward. It was like the stance of a beast right before pouncing on its prey.
His upturned eyes were filled with a brilliant luster that went beyond a mere unusual gleam. As if intending to settle the match with this single clash, he spun the Sashimi in both hands, gripping them in a reverse hold.
Siegfried let out a short laugh. In response, he firmly gripped his hilt.
Then, he activated his Blessing.
The Blessing of the Sword Spirit.
An Essence Spirit-class Blessing that pushed one's swordsmanship talent to its absolute limit through concentration that far transcended human cognition. It was a secret technique among secret techniques, with only a handful of people in the Nibelung family's 700-year history capable of mastering it.
A creeping blue light coated his blade. A bright blue flame began to burn upward from the base of the hilt. Siegfried pulled back the corners of his wrinkled mouth and shouted.
"Come at me, Kang Geomma!"
Simultaneously with the old man's vigorous shout, Kang Geomma lunged forward.
Fwoosh!