Chapter 166: The First Sword of Cairo (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 166: The First Sword of Cairo (1)
It was a shocking sight.
The face that had once brimmed with arrogant pride was now grotesquely asymmetrical, one cheekbone seemingly caved in. Thick blood dripped from a severely swollen nose. Jeron's eyes had completely lost focus. He didn't even dare look up at Roman Dmitry, trembling like a terrified child as he forced out his surrender.
"...Good grief."
"Tend to Lord Jeron!"
Count Gregory's men rushed onto the stage.
Jeron was highly cherished by Count Gregory; they couldn't afford to let him suffer any lasting harm. Even seeing it with their own eyes, the crowd couldn't believe it. The spectators who had been eagerly debating the outcome just moments before were now completely speechless, staring blankly as Jeron sprawled on the ground receiving medical treatment.
Rank 10.
It was said that from this rank onward, one entered an entirely different world.
It wasn't just an empty title; Jeron had constantly proven his worth over the years. A defeat like this made absolutely no sense. Had he fallen after a fierce, close battle, the crowd would have offered sincere applause. But the match had been so overwhelmingly one-sided that their minds simply short-circuited.
On the stage, Roman stood tall.
As everyone watched in dead silence, he slowly scanned the crowd.
The stage is set.
The battles up to this point were nothing more than appetizers.
Cairo was a weak nation. At the very least, within this small pond, he intended to carve his existence so deeply into their minds that they would never forget the name Roman Dmitry.
Roman finally spoke.
"To be frank, I am a bit disappointed. One year ago, I announced this Public Ranking Match in advance. Why do you think I did that? It wasn't because I needed time to hone my skills. I wanted the rankers of Cairo to prepare themselves for me. And the result of that preparation... is what you see right before your eyes."
He showed zero respect for the defeated. He openly mocked Jeron, bluntly emphasizing just how pathetic the man truly was.
"After defeating Jeron, who was rated as Rank 10, I realized something. Other than Count Nicholas, there is no opponent in Cairo capable of withstanding my sword. Therefore, I shall skip the meaningless steps. Three days from now, right here, I will face the rankers from Rank 9 to Rank 2, one after another."
The crowd gasped in shock.
What on earth was he talking about? Even hearing it with their own ears, their brains refused to comprehend it.
"And after defeating them all, I will challenge the First Sword of Cairo."
Roman's declaration left the audience utterly stunned.
Roman Dmitry had always defied common sense, but this statement crossed the line of reason entirely.
One thing was certain. Roman Dmitry wasn't just arrogant. He was completely insane.
* * *
The Cairo Kingdom was thrown into an uproar.
Roman's public declaration of war was staggering. Defeating everyone from Rank 99 onward was already an incredible feat, yet he had just promised to take on the nation's highest-ranking fighters back-to-back.
The targets of his declaration immediately gathered in one place.
"...What do you plan to do about this? Honestly, I was thinking of forfeiting. There isn't a huge gap in skill between Jeron and me, yet Roman Dmitry crushed him overwhelmingly, didn't he?"
The speaker was Bruno, Rank 9.
Bruno had been at the arena that day. He had gone to gather information in preparation for his own match against Roman, but watching Jeron get utterly dominated had terrified him. This was not an opponent he could handle. Since defeat was practically guaranteed, he had no desire to act tough only to end up in the same miserable state as Jeron.
The man sitting across from him, Oscar, Rank 2, spoke up.
"Even so, we cannot forfeit."
"Lord Oscar!"
"None of us here belong to the King's Faction. If we simply step aside and let Roman Dmitry face Count Nicholas, we could reap the benefits without lifting a finger. However, Roman Dmitry mocked Lord Jeron. He belittled him in front of everyone, claiming he wasn't worthy of Rank 10, and then declared war on all of us, demanding to fight us all on the same day. This is no longer a simple matter. If Roman Dmitry loses to Count Nicholas, the public will mock us as cowards who surrendered our ranks without even drawing our swords."
This was a matter of pride. From the moment the public's eyes were fixed on them, backing down was no longer an option.
"...So you're saying we should actually fight Roman Dmitry?" asked the Rank 5 swordsman.
Everyone was furious at Roman's arrogance. Yet, personal feelings aside, not a single person could deny his strength. He was a monster who had climbed from Rank 99 to Rank 10. Watching him defeat Cairo's rankers one after another without any real rest, they couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for him as fellow swordsmen.
It was undeniable. Roman Dmitry was a genius destined to make waves across the continent sooner or later. He was merely young; his talent was absolute.
Oscar nodded.
"Yes, I intend to face him myself. That is why I summoned you all. To be completely honest, I am not confident I can defeat Roman Dmitry on my own either. I am hesitant to propose this since it demands unconditional sacrifice from you, but please... wear down his stamina as much as possible before he reaches me. Marquis Benedict, whom I serve, will ensure you are handsomely rewarded. If we combine our strength..."
His gaze hardened. His pride as Rank 2, combined with the knowledge that Marquis Benedict coveted Roman, made him fiercely determined not to let the boy succeed.
"Even if I must risk my life, I will bring Roman Dmitry down. And in front of everyone, I will declare that I could never have won without your help."
The rankers exchanged uneasy glances.
Playing the role of sacrificial lambs was hardly appealing. Had Roman Dmitry not provoked them so openly, they might never have gathered here in the first place.
However, the stage was already set. Their pride as swordsmen would not allow them to cower.
"I will follow Lord Oscar's plan."
"Let's show that reckless brat the wall of reality. What? He'll defeat us all one by one? I guarantee you, I'll finish Roman Dmitry off myself before he even gets a chance to challenge Lord Oscar!"
"Exactly! Let's join forces!"
The rankers burned with determination. Putting aside their respective factions, they clamored for Roman Dmitry's downfall, putting their heads together all night to devise a concrete battle plan.
* * *
Exactly three days later, Roman appeared at the arena.
As he waited, surrounded by a massive, buzzing crowd, Cairo's highest rankers finally made their appearance.
"Gasp."
"From Bruno to Oscar! Ranks 2 through 9 have actually all shown up!"
"To think they'd really respond to Roman Dmitry's provocation. Facing all of them in one day... it's impossible to predict who will win."
After the duel with Jeron, people had declared that Count Nicholas was the only one capable of defeating Roman. But facing eight elite swordsmen in a row was a completely different story. These were not nameless nobodies. Even Bruno, at Rank 9, was a swordsman who had once enjoyed immense fame throughout the Cairo Kingdom. On the Western Front, everyone knew Bruno's name. Had he not displayed a powerful presence even against the mighty Kronos Empire?
The eight swordsmen stepped forward one by one. Looking at them, Roman recalled the intelligence report he had received three days ago.
Marquis Benedict's Noble Faction is secretly gathering forces. Their target is likely not a rebellion, but me. If I reject their offer, Marquis Benedict will undoubtedly resort to extreme measures.
It was exactly as he had anticipated.
The Noble Faction. How had they been able to wield such immense power for so long? While they found it difficult to touch the factions aligned with the Kronos Empire and Valhalla, they had ruthlessly nipped any potential third faction in the bud. That was how they had cornered the King's Faction. They had created an environment in the Cairo Kingdom where survival was impossible unless one bowed to the Noble Faction.
It was amusing.
The rankers standing before him—since none of them belonged to the King's Faction, they had effortlessly joined forces despite serving different masters.
This was the harsh reality of Cairo politics. As long as they weren't part of the King's Faction, the nobles would unite to crush an anomaly at a moment's notice.
Cairo's power structure will not grant me any more time. This is a dead end. Devour them, or be devoured. At this crossroads, there is only one choice to make.
The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk.
He had waited anxiously for this moment for the past year. The peace had lasted far too long, and Roman Dmitry was not particularly fond of peace.
As the opening act for the grand finale, Roman stepped onto the stage.
No more words were needed. From now on, it was time to show them reality firsthand.
* * *
At first, they had a plausible plan.
Roman Dmitry will try to end the fights quickly from the start. Facing eight rankers in a row, he'll want to avoid a drawn-out battle at all costs. Arrogant fool. You've made a fatal mistake. If we hadn't united, we might have rushed in like moths to a flame, falling one by one just as you wanted.
Bruno had only one goal: pure defense. His intention was to flare his Aura to protect his body and drag out the clock as much as possible. He had no confidence in winning, but if he dedicated everything to holding his ground, he was certain he could at least drain Roman's stamina, no matter how vast the gap in their skills.
However.
Slash—!
...?!
The very first clash. The moment he moved to block Roman's attack, Bruno's eyes widened in shock.
It was not the sound he had expected. His sword, infused with Aura, should have easily deflected Roman Dmitry's strike. Instead, his blade was cleanly severed in two while his Aura was still blazing. It was a horrifying sight. With an attack that shattered his entire strategy in the very first second, Bruno felt something slicing into his chest before he could even think of a countermeasure.
Spurt!
Blood splattered across the stage. Roman had not killed him, but with his chest slashed wide open, Bruno collapsed right then and there.
"Next."
A heavy silence descended. The spectators, who had anticipated a fierce struggle, were left completely speechless by a match that had ended just as one-sidedly as Jeron's.
Still, it was only the first match. They clung to the belief that even if Bruno fell so easily, things would be different starting with Rank 8.
Clang—!
A sword was violently deflected. The Rank 8 swordsman blocked Roman's strike with all his might. His sword didn't break like Bruno's, but he failed to redirect the sheer force of the blow. That was the absolute best the Rank 8 swordsman could manage. As Roman's fist buried itself into his abdomen, he slammed face-first into the ground, retching as if he were about to throw up his entire stomach.
"Next."
In barely a minute, the third turn had arrived. Rank 7 stepped onto the stage looking incredibly tense, but before he could even process the exchange, he felt his consciousness slip away.
Thud—
It was overwhelming. Roman's Aura possessed a destructive power that even a 5-Star Aura could not withstand. Even if one somehow managed to block the initial strike, the relentless follow-up attacks presented an entirely different nightmare. Rank 7 was also a man who had once dominated an era. He was not someone who should fall like a common, nameless mercenary, yet the sight of him spraying blood left the crowd increasingly numb.
"Next."
The fourth turn. The fifth turn. The sixth turn.
The slaughter proceeded. The plans they had spent all night devising meant absolutely nothing; every single ranker collapsed the moment they stepped onto the stage. As the minutes ticked by, the spectators' faces grew increasingly pale. This wasn't a duel. It was so overwhelmingly one-sided that even the onlookers felt a deep chill of terror creeping down their spines.
The people of Cairo did not truly know Roman. After taking over Roman Dmitry's body, the Heavenly Demon Baek Joong-hyuk had acquired the martial prowess to defeat Butler in a remarkably short period. How long had that taken? Less than a year. The feats that had astounded the entire kingdom were merely the results achieved in that brief span of time.
And another year had passed since then. People might remember the Roman of a year ago, but the current Roman had undergone an immense evolution.
From the very beginning, Oscar and the other swordsmen were nothing more than small fry who required no special strategy. No matter how strong they might be in Cairo, they were merely frogs in a well, completely unqualified to even place their names on the continental rankings.
Thud—
The Rank 3 swordsman collapsed. As he lay bleeding on the ground, the utterly horrified expressions of the crowd behind him came into full view.
"...T-This is impossible."
Among them was Oscar, his face completely drained of color.
The man who had confidently declared that he would absolutely win if the preceding rankers wore down Roman's stamina now stared blankly at the sun high in the sky. The duels had begun at noon. The sun had barely moved, yet the stage was already drenched in blood.
Only then did he realize the truth. Roman Dmitry was a monster that Cairo could not even hope to contain.
"Next."
It sounded like a death sentence. At the voice calling his name, Oscar could only squeeze his eyes shut in despair.