The First Duel (2)
"Urk, to think you'd pull off such a cowardly stunt!"
Roman spat out a chunk of flesh from Kyle's bite as he leaped back, putting distance between them. For a knight gripping his sword, having his wrist torn open was fatal. Blood streamed down the back of his hand. His fingers, clenched around the hilt, refused to obey. Every time he tried to apply force, a ripping pain shot up from inside his wrist. The sword tip trembled.
The stable stance of a mid-level knight that had been pressing Kyle just moments ago—it was already crumbling.
"You beastly bastard…!"
Roman ground his teeth. He forcibly summoned his aura. Shuuu—blue energy spread along the blade. But it was different from before. The sheer amount of aura still vastly outstripped Kyle's. Yet, with his wrecked wrist failing to support the sword, the flow of power couldn't connect properly.
Kyle smirked at the sight.
"What?"
He asked in a mocking tone.
"If a monster bites your wrist, are you gonna complain that's cowardly too?"
Roman's face flushed red with rage and humiliation.
"Shut your mouth!"
Roman swung his sword. But the strike was slower than before. No, it wasn't just slow—it was off. The tip veered slightly astray. The power didn't carry through to the end. His ruined wrist had disrupted the flow of the attack.
Kyle didn't meet it head-on. No need. He twisted his body, letting the blade glance off. Then he stepped in close.
Thud!
Kyle's elbow smashed into Roman's chest.
"Urk!"
Roman's upper body jerked. Right after, Kyle's foot kicked his injured wrist.
Crack!
"Gaaah!"
The sword nearly flew from Roman's hand. He clung to the hilt desperately, but his fingers shook uncontrollably.
Kyle sneered.
"What're you gonna do with that hand?"
Then he closed in again. Roman hastily retreated. He knew he couldn't swing properly because of the wrist pain. He tried to create distance while keeping Kyle pinned at sword range.
But Kyle didn't let him.
Tap-tap—Kyle narrowed the gap, pursuing relentlessly. Roman bared his teeth and brought his sword down. Blue aura sliced through the air. Kyle dodged sideways by a hair's breadth. The blade grazed his shoulder, tearing his clothes. He hadn't fully evaded it. A shallow line of blood welled on his skin.
But Kyle didn't stop. He grinned instead.
"Nice."
His fist drove into Roman's side.
Thud!
"Guh!"
Roman's breath caught. Reflexively, he swung his elbow—the one holding the sword. But the arm with the mangled wrist wouldn't move right. Kyle grabbed it. He clamped down on the wounded wrist.
"Grrgh!"
Roman's face twisted.
"Aaaargh! You, you filthy coward!"
Kyle twisted the wrist. The wound tore open. Blood flowed anew.
"Cowardly?"
Kyle laughed.
"Then don't lose like a coward."
With those words, Kyle's knee slammed into Roman's thigh.
Crack!
Roman's balance wavered. Still, he was a mid-level knight. His aura-tempered body didn't collapse easily. He gritted his teeth and endured.
But in that instant—
Kyle's toe shot up viciously.
Crack!
The entire Circular Training Grounds froze.
"Gaaack…!"
Roman's face drained to a sickly blue. His eyes bulged wide. The knights shot to their feet in unison.
"Such a low blow!"
"Aiming for the groin!"
"Is that a duel?!"
Kyle curled his bloodied lips.
"Honor?"
He grabbed Roman's hair as the man staggered.
"How's a guy who can't protect his balls gonna protect any honor?"
Kyle yanked Roman's head forward. At the same time, he drove his knee up.
Crunch!
Roman's face smashed into the knee. His front teeth shattered. Blood sprayed.
"Urgh…!"
Roman tried to stumble back. But Kyle's grip on his hair didn't loosen. Roman swung his sword wildly. But it was no longer knightly swordsmanship. Ruined wrist. Trembling fingers. Breathing ragged from rage and pain. The blade path wobbled wildly.
Kyle slipped inside it. When power was lacking like this, there was a perfect move.
"Wrist hurts? Don't worry. I'll rip the whole arm off."
He wrapped around Roman's sword arm. Tucked it under his armpit. Then twisted his body.
Crack!
"Aaaaaargh!"
Roman's scream tore through the training grounds.
"Oh, sorry. The wrist was the other arm, right? My bad."
Kyle even had the leisure to mock him. The shoulder joint wrenched. Not completely shattered, but no longer able to swing a sword properly.
Kyle's movements weren't swordsmanship. Headbutts. Bites. Groin kicks. Hair grabs. Joint locks. Pressing wounds. Each one was base. Dirty. Vile.
But effective. Terrifyingly so.
Leina unwittingly pressed her lips tight.
That's not swordsmanship.
Her eyes sank cold.
But in real combat… it's far too dangerous.
Roman was dueling. Trying to win like a knight.
Kyle was different. He was fighting. At killing range. Seizing the moment the opponent's guard crumbled. Exploiting hesitation. Ruthlessly targeting unprotected weaknesses. Especially never letting go of a wound once made.
Roman still had his advantages. But the paths to wield them were broken. A knight whose sword hand was crippled was like a bird with clipped wings.
"You… you damn brute!"
Roman gnashed his teeth. He squeezed out his last strength. It wasn't swordsmanship anymore. No precision with that wrist. He just crammed aura into the blade and flung his whole body at it.
Slash—
The savage strike grazed Kyle's side. Not a proper cut. But with aura, enough to slice skin and draw blood.
Blood flowed.
"He hit him!"
"Sir Roman!"
Faint hope flickered on the knights' faces. But it didn't last.
Kyle didn't retreat. He grinned.
"Good. You had to put up at least this much of a fight."
A faint blood-red energy writhed in his body. The Blood God's Power. The bizarre technique he devised, thriving on pain and blood. The wound wasn't fully healed. Torn flesh still bled.
But the blood-red energy seeping into his muscles momentarily tightened Kyle's body stronger. His ragged breath steadied. His dulled senses sharpened. Pain awakened his mind.
Kyle's eyes flashed blood-red.
"As expected."
He muttered low.
"Growing from getting hit is the fastest way."
Roman's face hardened. Kyle closed in again. Just seeing the brute approach filled Roman with dread.
"Stay back!"
Roman swung. But his attacks were sloppy. Kyle easily slipped close and drove the heel of his palm up into Roman's jaw.
Crack!
Roman's head snapped back. At the same time, Kyle's foot smashed the side of his knee.
Crunch!
Roman's balance shattered.
"Guh!"
Kyle seized his nape. Slammed him straight to the ground.
Thud!
Roman's back hit the sandy floor of the Circular Training Grounds hard. Dust billowed. Kyle mounted him and raised his fist.
Roman desperately opened his mouth.
"W-Wai—"
Thud!
Kyle's fist plunged into his face.
"Surrender?"
Thud!
"Wait?"
Thud!
"Did I say you could?"
Blood sprayed. Roman's face caved. His sword had already fallen from his hand. Amid the barrage, he feebly raised his arms to defend. But one wrist was bitten, the other shoulder wrenched. His guard was pathetic.
Kyle's fists exploited every gap.
Thud!
"That honorable duel you lot love so much."
Thud!
"Pretty impressive, huh."
Thud!
"Useless as shit when you're flat on your back."
The elder knight acting as referee's face stiffened. Roman's eyes glazed over. No strength left to fight back.
That moment—
"Enough!"
The elder knight's shout rang through the grounds. Kyle's fist halted mid-air. Roman slumped unconscious. His face was a bloody mess. Shoulder dislocated, wrist bearing clear teeth marks.
"Your opponent has lost consciousness. Young master. Victory to the young master."
"Ah, right."
Kyle readily released Roman and withdrew his fist. The soldiers who had mocked him moments ago fell silent. The knights trembled with fury and shock.
Kyle rose slowly. Blood flowed from his body too. Sword cuts marred his left arm and side. Roman's blood and his own mingled at his mouth.
But Kyle was smiling.
In the upper seats, Roderick gripped the armrests with a stony face. Duchess Enora stared down at Kyle, pale as a ghost. Derek involuntarily shrank his neck.
And former Duke Valgrim. He chuckled low.
"Kuhuhu. Good. Very good. Haha!"
A laugh like watching a predator witness its cub's first hunt.
Kyle kicked Roman's fallen sword aside. Then slowly turned his head. His gaze swept the stands where the knights sat.
He crooked a bloodied finger at them.
"Next."
That single word froze the entire Circular Training Grounds.