Chapter 139: Roman Dmitry's People (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 139: Roman Dmitry's People (3)
Henderson.
If he had been a complete nobody, the crowd wouldn't have been this shocked. Setting aside his lack of renown as a swordsman, many in the audience remembered his days as a common peasant.
Murmurs filled the air.
"Is that really Henderson?"
"Henderson defeated Sir Taylor!"
"Are our eyes playing tricks on us? They say it takes over a year just to sense mana before you can even manifest aura. How on earth does Henderson, who used to plow fields with us, know how to use it?"
Everyone was flabbergasted.
Henderson was a familiar face. When Roman Dmitry suddenly grew so strong, people had to accept a reality that defied common sense simply because they didn't know everything about him. But here, there were countless people who knew Henderson personally. Friends who had shared pints of beer with him, coworkers who had toiled alongside him during the busy harvest seasons, and even the village elders who had watched him grow up. They all knew exactly what kind of man Henderson was. That was what made this utterly unbelievable.
The day Henderson left Lawrence, people had tried to hold him back.
"Have you completely lost your mind? You need to stick to what you know. Why the hell is a guy who's been a farmer his whole life suddenly trying to do something so dangerous? Life isn't a fairy tale. A farmer should live and die a farmer. Being a swordsman is a life reserved for those born to it. Mark my words, you'll be begging to go back to the fields before six months are up."
That was their last memory of him.
Yet now, Henderson had just brought down an Aura Swordsman.
Those who had spat harsh words at him could only stare blankly as he stepped down from the stage. Only then did it hit them. While they were repeating the same mundane routine day after day, Henderson had followed Roman Dmitry and turned a life everyone deemed impossible into reality. For a fleeting moment, envy washed over them. But as they watched Henderson bow deeply toward Roman Dmitry, his old acquaintances realized there was nothing they could say.
Just like the villagers, another group of people couldn't hide their bewilderment at the result before them.
"...It seems things are taking an odd turn."
"Didn't you say Henderson was definitely the weakest in Group 5? How on earth did he defeat an Aura Swordsman?"
"Surely, the disaster of Henderson winning Group 5 won't actually happen, right?"
It was the Northeast Association.
They had been absolutely certain of claiming victory in Group 5 and Group 6—the brackets containing Henderson and McBurney. They figured McBurney might advance to the second or third round due to lucky early matchups, but Henderson, who faced an Aura Swordsman right from the start, was supposed to be a different story. According to their calculations, Henderson should have collapsed without landing a single blow against Sir Taylor. Yet, contrary to all expectations, he had taken Taylor down in an instant.
A sense of foreboding washed over them.
Viscount Conrad forced a bright expression and spoke up.
"Everyone, keep your composure. This is only the beginning. If Henderson were truly a nobody who couldn't even swing a sword properly, would Roman Dmitry have entered him in this tournament? This outcome is only natural. Let us wait calmly. One cannot win a tournament by merely winning a match or two. As the rounds progress, fellows like Henderson will surely hit the wall of their lowborn limitations."
But his eyelids twitched.
He had seen it too. The systematic swordsmanship that had brought Taylor down possessed a level of mastery unbelievable for someone of commoner birth.
But what could they do? The tournament had already begun, and there was no turning back now.
"Trust me. The ultimate victor will be the Northeast Association."
Even as he swallowed hard, he refused to accept the possibility that he might be wrong.
* * *
Following Henderson's victory, McBurney won his match as well. Since McBurney's opponent was not a particularly remarkable swordsman, the crowd wasn't overly surprised by the one-armed swordsman's triumph.
Round 2.
They did not wait for the other groups to finish. As soon as a group concluded its matches, they proceeded immediately to the next round.
"My son."
"Yes, Father."
"You said you wanted to establish the hierarchy of the Northeast, but is there a specific reason you went through the trouble of holding a tournament? The nobles of the Northeast Association are cunning. Even if they fail to win, they will never truly bow their heads to Dmitry."
It was Baron Romero.
This entire plan had been Roman's idea. Baron Romero fully supported his son, but that didn't mean he completely understood his intentions.
Roman replied, "I am well aware. The members of the Northeast Association are like bats, constantly shifting sides. No matter how our talks conclude, we will never win their genuine loyalty. Even so, I believe this is a necessary process. The Northeast Association is currently under the complacent delusion that they can oppose Dmitry with their own 'strength.' Though that is far from the truth, the mistakes born of that overconfidence might lead them to commit blunders that would only delight the Central Government."
In the Northeast region, Dmitry was king. Yet, the Northeast Association fancied themselves as clever foxes, strutting around with their heads held high.
Their petty confidence was a risk factor.
If an actual armed conflict were to break out, the Dmitry family would inevitably suffer casualties even in victory. War, after all, was war. In the process of completely wiping them out, Dmitry would lose troops, and the Northeast forces would simply retreat a step.
This was not to Roman's liking. He wanted to swallow the Northeast region whole, completely intact.
"Father, I do not wish to wage war against the Northeast Association. A war with them yields nothing. Even if we crush them and bring them to their knees, it will not give us a stronger voice against the Central Government, which holds the true power in the Cairo Kingdom. This tournament is a device to prevent war. The Northeast Association likely believed they had a solid chance of winning because the tournament is divided into six groups. That belief is precisely where their petty pride lies."
Three stages. This was the second.
Through this operation, the Northeast Association would be forced to face reality.
"If the Northeast Association, still lost in their delusions, suffers an overwhelming defeat—if they witness a reality where they cannot even put up a fight, let alone win a single group—only then will they realize that even with the Central Government's backing, they cannot scale the wall that is Dmitry. Taking the Northeast into our hands begins from that moment. Absolute submission. Once they face reality and their resolve softens, I intend to break their spirits completely in one fell swoop."
He did not check his father's expression.
Just then, Kevin was stepping onto the stage.
* * *
Kevin of Group 2.
He was currently in a foul mood.
...I was slower than Chris.
In the previous round, Chris had defeated his opponent in just three seconds. Even though the opponent was a swordsman who could use aura, they had been utterly helpless. Kevin had seen it clearly. That was why he had gone all out in the first round. He had intended to crush his opponent even faster than Chris, but because the man managed to block just one attack, it had taken him a whopping eight seconds.
It was fast enough. But Kevin could not be satisfied with that result.
Chris is strong. I am still no match for him, but I have no intention of just accepting that reality.
If people were asked who the sword of Roman Dmitry was, who would they think of first? It was a simple question. Everyone would say Chris.
Chris was hailed as Dmitry's genius swordsman, and indeed, ever since he began following Roman, his actions had lived up to that reputation. With sharp leadership and the skill to defeat a 3-Star Aura Swordsman, he had no rivals save for Roman himself. It was only natural that he was called the sword of Roman Dmitry.
But Kevin hated that. He had been the one to follow Roman first, so it rankled him that Chris was known as the representative of Roman's men.
I am not denying that Chris is my superior. For my Lord's sake, I will be a loyal subordinate who faithfully obeys his orders. But Chris being the first name mentioned as Dmitry's sword is a different matter. I want my Lord to trust me the most. When he needs the strength of just one person to solve a problem, I want him to choose me, not Chris.
Roman Dmitry was the sky to Kevin.
He always craved Roman's recognition, and on a stage of proof like today, he wanted to be the absolute best.
In terms of sheer skill, he was no match yet. Three seconds. Kevin did not have the confidence to finish a fight as quickly as that.
Therefore, he changed his approach.
I will prove my worth in my own way.
His Lord had said: Show overwhelming ability.
As his opponent stepped up from the opposite side, Kevin's eyes turned fierce.
* * *
The signal flag dropped. The duel began.
Kevin's opponent, a swordsman belonging to the Northeast Association named Miles, went all out from the very beginning.
My opponent is Dmitry's demon. If I don't give it my all, I might suffer a pathetic defeat.
He flared his aura. For this duel, blunted training swords were used. However, from the moment aura was involved, it was no different from a life-or-death battle.
Kevin was fast. He slipped past Miles's attack with a concise step, then lightly blocked the follow-up combo that came rushing in. An aura identical to Miles's flared on Kevin's sword.
Since he already knew Kevin could use aura, Miles was not shaken in the slightest and pressed him hard.
Clang!
Clash! Clash! Clang!
Though it was still early in the fight, it looked as though Miles had the upper hand. At this unexpected turn of events, the members of the Northeast Association clenched their fists, praying for a victory.
It was then.
By a hair's breadth, Kevin dodged an attack. Slipping forward, he thrust his sword, targeting a microscopic opening.
Thud.
"Ugh."
An impact shuddered through Miles. Though he had hastily protected his body with aura, the blow to his flank sent a shockwave rattling through his head.
It wasn't enough to knock him down. Miles gritted his teeth and lashed out. Kevin, who had penetrated deep into his guard, seemed to be in a precarious position, yet not a single one of Miles's attacks connected.
This slippery rat!
Anger boiled hot inside him. Barely one or two steps. That was the distance between him and Kevin. At such close range, it should have been impossible to dodge his attacks, yet Kevin slipped past them by a hair with acrobatic movements.
It was an absurd display, even to experience firsthand. Kevin didn't protect his body with aura at all; he neutralized every single attack purely through movement.
It took immense guts. If he were to let a strike land like that, the impact would be devastating, yet Kevin didn't seem to care in the least.
Just land once.
It was do-or-die. He lunged forward recklessly. Even if he had to give up his flesh, he was determined to break Kevin's bones.
Right before his eyes, Kevin vanished.
Miles instinctively protected his body with aura.
Thwack!
"Argh!"
Another impact shuddered through him. His vitals hadn't been hit, but it was a blow heavy enough to make his legs buckle. Stumbling backward, he frantically searched for his opponent.
Kevin was right there, just a step behind him.
Kevin remained well within Miles's striking range, leaving him no room to catch his breath or steady his posture. From then on, all strategy went out the window. It was a battle of pure instinct. Miles swung his sword whenever he saw a target, and flared his aura to protect himself whenever he felt an incoming strike.
Once again, his blade met only empty air.
Irritation flared. Even though they were trading blows right under each other's noses, his own attacks never landed, while he was utterly helpless against his opponent's.
Fuck.
The difference in skill was stark. Kevin and Miles. Regardless of their respective mastery of aura, there was an overwhelming gap in their actual combat prowess.
Just six months ago, Kevin had been nothing more than a slum boy, but extreme training and the crucible of war had forged him into a lethal weapon.
Thud!
"...!"
Once again, a shockwave rattled Miles's brain. It hurt. Staggering backward, he finally took in the scene before him.
"You... you bastard, don't tell me..."
Kevin had taken a step back.
Miles had been too busy bracing for follow-up attacks to realize it, but Kevin had not pressed his advantage even once after landing a hit.
It was pure, unadulterated mockery.
By openly giving Miles time to recover, Kevin was showing that he wasn't taking this duel seriously at all.
Chris had finished his opponent in three seconds. Seeing that, Kevin had changed his approach. If Chris was going to end things in the shortest time possible, Kevin would do the exact opposite. Even though he could have ended the match at any moment, he deliberately dragged it out to show just how vast the gulf between them truly was.
"You bastard!"
Miles lunged forward, his eyes blazing with fury.
It was a matter of pride. Regardless of the defeat, he couldn't let himself be humiliated like this. Just once. He wanted to land just a single blow.
His sword, shimmering with aura, slashed at Kevin, but Kevin simply stepped back to avoid it once more.
Their eyes met.
Miles had left himself wide open. If Kevin attacked now, Miles might end up crippled. And yet, Kevin smirked and backed away.
He did not strike. Even though his victory was assured, he stepped back and gave Miles time to regroup.
Under such humiliation, Miles's mental state finally shattered.
"...I forfeit."
Forcing the opponent to surrender. That was Kevin's way. Instead of ending it quickly, Kevin dragged the fight out as long as possible, proving the absolute difference between them.
Miles collapsed. A provincial talent who had once dreamed of succeeding as a swordsman had run headfirst into an insurmountable wall today.
"Round 2 has concluded! Kevin of the Dmitry family wins, securing his spot in Round 3!"
Kevin's victory had taken a whopping ten minutes. It was the longest match in the entire tournament, but ironically, the crowd could not help but marvel at those ten minutes.
However, Kevin could not smile.
While Kevin was dealing with Miles...
Round 2: 5 seconds.
Round 3: 8 seconds.
Round 4: 10 seconds.
Chris had secured his place in the finals in that brief span of time, leaving the crowd utterly dumbfounded.