Chapter 258
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 258
Chapter Title: Part 2, Chapter 22: Sparring (4)
Hwangong was a combat method that disrupted the opponent's sense of the real, sowing confusion.
Among them, there was only one true entity.
However, Han was a master of the realm who made even the illusions of the beads feel utterly real.
It was impossible to gauge by eye.
What needed reading was the flow of power.
And Jamie had a technique to suppress that flow.
Boom-!
With a heavy footfall, the surrounding mana flows began concentrating on Jamie.
The flows gathered into one.
At the same time, the incoming bead illusions dwindled bit by bit.
Part of the flow had been seized.
Han narrowed his eyes.
‘This technique?’
Space was being dominated.
In a warrior's duel, losing control of space meant defeat in all but name.
Space was the domain in which a warrior moved.
The wider it was, the more techniques and methods one could deploy.
Thus, having space dominated naturally meant a narrowed range of motion.
‘Interesting.’
Jamie was advancing with bizarre footsteps.
The power seizing space clearly originated from those steps.
The bead illusions shattered one by one.
He was gaining ground in the technique clash.
But.
‘Too early for that.’
Han swung the stick once.
The threads rippled, and the beads rang out.
Then, the vanishing bead illusions multiplied as if by magic.
Rumble!!
In an instant, thunder roared deafeningly.
Not only did the bead illusions multiply, but they also traced lightning shapes, charging destructively.
Jamie faltered at the abrupt shift in assault and fell back.
He hadn't yet found the spatial gaps to shatter the illusions, yet the pressure intensified in fiercer form.
‘Tch.’
Enveloped in black mana, his Darkness Single Sword Strike slashed the bead illusions in a long diagonal, then he leaped high backward.
Upon landing, he poured Baekhae into the sword tip.
Sizzle!!
Black mana coiled around Baekhae.
Purple lightning began churning the spatial flows.
The beads closed in.
Jamie glared wide-eyed and thrust the Single Sword Strike dead ahead.
Space cracked open.
At the same instant, Han vaulted high.
He grinned, reeling in the beads.
Then, whipping them like a lash, the threads extended toward Jamie's head and plummeted.
Yet Jamie stayed calm.
“Fuu.”
Those who attained the realm decided victory by who read the next move faster.
And Jamie had predicted Han's subsequent action ten seconds prior.
He thrust his arm toward the fissured space.
Manifesting the Single Sword Strike's essence in his hand, he clenched the space.
Then, he yanked it savagely inward.
Baekhae's dominated space and the Single Sword Strike's cleaved space.
Space wasn't graspable by hand by nature, but a space-cutting sword made it so.
Thus, he gripped it.
Baekhae's dominated space flowed through his fingertips.
So he could rattle it.
“Topple over!!”
Space wasn't fixed.
Jamie twisted his body as if it might shatter.
The elongating space, Han at full leap, the beads plummeting viciously.
All warped together.
Han bulged his eyes at the sudden aberration.
“The space...!”
The thread arcing gracefully toward Jamie kinked at grotesque angles.
Han too.
He sensed his footing had shifted subtly.
“What kind of monster technique is this?!”
His body tilted forcibly.
‘Did he lure me into this?’
Sensing his bulk plummeting, Han recalled the beads.
Swinging opposite, space boomed! with a shockwave.
The shockwave slowed his descent.
Stepping mana on thin air several times halved his speed, landing softly soon after.
But Han had no leisure.
Jamie closed in unseen, stabbing at his head.
Clang-!
Han whipped the beads unfazed.
Sword and bead clashed mid-air, yet no chime rang.
High-density mana condensed in the beads.
Jamie couldn't chain his assault.
Slender threads and beads, but Han wielded them.
Not yielding was blessing enough.
They volleyed ceaselessly.
A contest of foresight.
‘Impressive?’
Onlooker Isis marveled at Jamie's rapid adaptation to move-reading.
He dissected Han's patterns one by one, pondered optimal counters, and struck.
Typical warriors relied on instinct from embodied experience.
Calculating moves and responses took time—in expert clashes, fatal seconds.
This way was feasible for Jamie the sorcerer.
‘Always comprehending spell formulas mentally before deploying—his thought speed dwarfs ours. Plus, a 9th Class Archmage...’
No.
Diablo Volpir, black sorcerer supreme, bane of the 12 Gods.
Eyes see moves, mind computes, response decided—in under a second.
Hence the thrill.
“What authority will he claim?”
Jamie would ascend to Sword Master.
And seize an authority.
Authorities often mirrored traits, but Jamie's myriad talents defied prediction.
“Won't be easy, even as Welton blood.”
Isis smiled faintly.
As Jamie and Han's duel stretched, spectators swarmed.
Undistracted by the crowd, they clashed relentlessly till exhaustion felled one.
Jamie batting beads aside to press—the threads snared wrist or ankle, slamming him down.
Han lunging at gaps—Jamie riposted savagely with Baekhae and Single Sword Strike.
Undeniably, Han held advantage.
“Tap out if spent.”
“Knock me cold. End of story.”
“Relentless bastard.”
Han tsked at sweat-drenched Jamie charging on.
He craved swift takedown, but Jamie sharpened hourly.
Battle-honed growth.
Move-reading accelerated, reactions near-instant.
‘What is this guy?’
9th Class luminary, yet sword-obsessed why?
Talent evident, but paled to sorcery.
Magic practice wiser now, but no master-disciple tie, Han held tongue.
Struck openings, parried threats.
“Hah, hah, hah.”
“Sun's zenith.”
“One more. Just one.”
Jamie verged collapse.
Eyes unfocused—stamina tapped.
Hourless runs no strain, but weaponed fray dwarfed that drain.
Unlike spells, mana hemorrhaged too.
‘Time to wrap.’
Progress notwithstanding, self-collapse loomed.
Better a decisive loss for epiphany.
Resolved, Han reset stance.
Air shifted.
Upper body pitched forward, body near-straight to earth.
Then powered off turf.
“...?!”
Silver longsword at nose-tip.
Han's mind blanked: How?
Jamie held distance.
Why sword dangling here?
Threads coiled sword.
Bead chimed—Han shoved ground sideways, veering.
They grazed, eyes met.
Han reeled.
‘This punk...’
Eyes void.
Not fatigue blur.
Jamie Welton hit unconscious trance.
Sword streaked freakish arc.
Han rued casual approach.
Stick parried blade; free index yanked thread—bead veered at Jamie's crown.
Jamie sidestepped easy, hand lunged with Single Sword essence.
“Ngh!”
Aura-less, authority-free, master-nonmaster gulf vast.
Yet trance-Jamie cornered Han.
Han backpedaled, stick dropped, threads solo-piloted beads wildly.
Jamie evaded intuitively, narrowing gap.
Then struck unforeseen from unforeseen vector.
Moves unreadable.
Trance dissolved patterns.
‘No choice but that.’
Held back to spare injury, but risked his own thrashing.
Mockery from peers unbearable.
“Sorry, Jamie Welton.”
Han slackened beads.
Unconscious musings unknown.
“Your level can't block or dodge this.”
Clan supreme technique.
Aura perfected it, but this sufficed for subdual.
So presumed.
Blade kissed taut threads.
Fibers frayed, threads near-snapping.
‘What in the...’
No instant closure range.
Yet Jamie loomed, space-leapt.
Sorcery? No—Isis would've ruled foul.
Silence meant pure skill.
‘No way...’
Flash insight struck Han.
That heartbeat, sword speared head.
Threads mere breaths ago grazed.
Han reflexed authority.
Bead stick morphed twin daggers swift.
Tiny, swift—parried facial thrust easy.
Reshaped to baton.
Whirled at Jamie's skull.
“Enough.”
Han eyed halted baton.
A lithe woman's hand clamped it vise-tight.
“Isis.”
Han grounded, baton reverted bead stick.
Gazed fallen Jamie.
Not his strike.
Trance ebbed to blackout.
At Jamie's state, Han spoke.
“Isis. That technique he just pulled... was definitely...”
“Right.”
Isis nodded.
“A clear-cut authority.”