Chapter 22: Blind Trust (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 22: Blind Trust (4)
When the sparring match first began, a familiar voice rang in Kevin's ears.
“Raise your sword and block. Chris is going to launch a surprise attack.”
It was Roman.
Kevin, who knew nothing of Voice Transmission—the technique of sending one's voice directly into another's mind using mana—was momentarily stunned. A split-second of hesitation gripped him. He couldn't fully comprehend what was happening, but the simple fact that the voice belonged to Roman made his body move instinctively, following the command.
At that exact moment.
Thwack!
“...!”
A stinging shock vibrated through his hands.
He had merely raised his guard exactly as Roman commanded, yet he had somehow perfectly parried Chris's preemptive strike.
“Take a step to the side. Then, aim for Chris's chest as he tries to kick.”
The next command echoed.
Kevin desperately wanted to follow Roman's words, but his reaction speed was far slower than he'd hoped. The kick Roman had warned him about was already slamming into his abdomen.
Thud!
“Argh!”
He screamed as the breath was instantly knocked from his lungs. Rolling across the dirt, Kevin clutched his stomach, thick saliva dripping from his mouth. He may have been a man who cut off his own arm just a week ago, but pain was never something one could easily get used to.
Just then.
“Throw yourself to the right.”
The voice pierced his mind once more.
Kevin knew he had to obey that voice if he wanted to survive. Forcing himself to swallow the agonizing pain, he threw his body aside. Just as expected, Chris's sword cleaved through the empty air where he had just been.
“Target the left side of his chest.”
It was an opening.
Chris had exposed a fatal flaw while executing that wide swing. Even to Kevin's untrained eyes, it was clear he could land a devastating blow if he struck that exact spot. But once again, the attack failed due to Kevin's sheer lack of ability. His sword swing was agonizingly slow, and his tangled footwork cut his attack range pitifully short.
A complete failure.
Chris didn't even realize his opponent had been targeting his opening. The clumsy strike was effortlessly avoided, and Chris's counterattack slammed into Kevin's abdomen once more.
Crack!
“Ugh!”
It was a completely one-sided massacre.
Kevin was beaten to a pulp without mounting a single proper counterattack. The pain was so excruciating that the sickening taste of iron welled up in his throat. He wanted nothing more than to collapse right then and there.
Yet, the words of surrender refused to leave his mouth. Aside from the fact that Roman hadn't ordered him to stop, the situation unfolding before him was simply absurd.
'Young Master Roman is omnipotent. Chris is moving exactly as the Young Master predicts, like a puppet on strings.'
Roman's voice was absolute prophecy.
When Roman said Chris would attack from the right, reality followed suit. The openings Roman pointed out were genuine, glaring flaws that could bring the genius knight down. The only problem was Kevin's own inability to execute the commands. If he had followed Roman's advice perfectly, he would have defeated Chris long ago. But his pathetic body simply refused to cooperate.
It was ridiculous.
A 2-Star Aura Swordsman.
An existence that commoners like himself could only look up to in reverence was being toyed with in the palm of Roman's hand like a mere plaything.
Only then did he realize why Roman had sent him into this sparring match.
Roman was sending him a message.
'This is the true level of Young Master Roman. Even Chris, hailed as Dmitry's greatest genius, cannot hold a candle to the Young Master's abilities. That is the man I have pledged my lifelong loyalty to. Even if it defies all common sense, I must blindly follow whatever the Young Master commands.'
The path ahead.
The ultimate goal.
Roman's towering figure rose before his eyes.
Just as he had severed his own arm solely out of trust in Roman's words, a blind conviction took root in his soul: he would become strong if he followed this man.
Through a single sparring match, Roman had given him a reason to believe.
A reason why he had to follow him to the ends of the earth.
And at the same time, a reason that left him with no choice but to feel absolute, terrifying awe.
Pushing past his physical agony, Kevin became completely absorbed in the duel. Because of this, Chris's warning fell on deaf ears.
“I'll say this one last time,” Chris growled. “If you show any more will to fight, prepare to be crippled.”
It was a final warning.
Kevin merely smirked.
'Give up the match?'
He couldn't do that.
His opponent didn't know the truth. He didn't know that he was dancing like a mere puppet.
If the Young Master could toy with a brilliant knight like Chris as if he were a child, then how could a teenage boy with absolutely nothing establish himself as Roman's man? No matter how much he thought about it, there was only one answer.
Trust.
Loyalty.
If his body was weak, he needed to at least prove his unbreakable mental fortitude.
“Let's see this through to the end.”
Those words cemented Kevin's resolve.
Even if this duel ended with him drenched in his own blood, Kevin was going to prove his worth.
They had vastly different perspectives.
The worlds they each saw were entirely disconnected.
Chris did not understand Kevin's resolve, and thus, seeing the boy refuse to give up until the very end made his temper flare.
Snap.
His patience shattered.
The pity he had felt for his opponent was instantly consumed by anger.
“You don't know your place...!”
Tap.
He kicked off the ground.
Chris had initially thought Kevin had nothing to do with this matter. But if this crippled boy was going to mock the decades Chris had dedicated to the sword by playing the part of an unyielding warrior, that changed things. He needed to end this decisively. Kevin would regret his arrogance for the rest of his life through the devastating consequence of being crippled.
Chris was fast.
He moved like a streak of light.
Closing the distance in an instant, he swung his wooden sword at Kevin's shoulder at a speed the boy couldn't possibly react to.
An arm.
That would be the price of his mistake.
Just as the wooden sword was about to shatter his arm, Kevin took a step forward.
“One step forward.”
Step.
“...!”
Chris's eyes widened in shock.
One step forward.
He had stepped right into the jaws of death.
It was like shoving his own head directly into the path of the falling blade—a scene strikingly similar to the moment Roman had defeated Chris. Yet, Kevin did not hesitate. Even knowing he might die, taking that single step forward secured him a position where he could strike before his opponent's attack landed.
And then.
“Attack with all your might.”
He followed the final command.
Kevin gritted his teeth and swung his sword upward from below. The crude strike sliced through the air, aiming straight for his opponent.
It was a touch-and-go situation.
Their bodies tangled in a blur of motion.
The result.
Crack!
The sharp sound of something shattering echoed across the training ground.
Along with scattering droplets of blood, a body fell backward like a puppet with its strings cut.
A battle decided in an instant.
And the winner was...
“Tenacious bastard.”
Chris.
Looking down with a gaze of sheer disgust, Chris saw blood pooling around Kevin.
The sparring match was over.
Fortunately, Kevin's life was not in danger.
By a hair's breadth, the wooden sword Chris swung had only grazed his forehead, tearing the skin. Kevin had managed to avert total disaster by blocking the follow-up attack with his own weapon. His wooden sword had shattered entirely under the powerful blow. Overwhelmed by the accumulated pain from the kick to his abdomen and the final clash, Kevin's eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed.
He was a stubborn bastard.
Seeing Kevin's unyielding determination to fight to the bitter end despite his crude skills, Chris felt a wave of complex emotions wash over him.
It was Chris's victory.
Roman spoke as he knelt to tend to Kevin, “As promised, if you wish, I will begin teaching you starting tomorrow. From now on, the choice is yours.”
That was the end of it.
Roman busied himself with treating Kevin's wounds, acting as if Chris wasn't even there.
It was a truly ironic scene.
Roman was the one who had ruthlessly pushed Kevin into the jaws of death, yet now he was treating the boy like someone incredibly precious.
*
“...Why on earth did I fight?”
Back in his quarters, Chris fell deep into thought.
Initially, his intention had been to draw Roman's attention by effortlessly defeating Kevin, but the unexpected turn of events had left his mind in a tangled mess. In truth, accepting this sparring match was a losing proposition from the start. In a fight where he had absolutely nothing to gain even in victory, Chris had, for a brief moment, been completely overwhelmed by Kevin's sheer venom.
Especially during that final clash.
At that moment, a vivid memory had flashed through Chris's mind.
'It was just like Young Master Roman. Stepping into the jaws of death was a decision that served as both a perfect attack and a flawless defense.'
If...
If he hadn't experienced the exact same maneuver against Roman...
It was deeply embarrassing to admit, but Chris wasn't confident he could have perfectly avoided Kevin's desperate strike without using mana.
The memory of his defeat had become vital experience.
Because he had replayed that exact situation in his head countless times, he was able to react instantly, evading Kevin's attack and launching a counter. A strange thrill had run through him during that split second. Even though his opponent was a mere commoner, Chris let out a hollow laugh at the realization that he had grown stronger than before.
Roman hadn't explicitly taught him anything.
And yet, he was improving.
His single experience fighting Roman had already become the foundation for his growth, evolving him into a swordsman who could respond differently to the exact same life-or-death situation.
That wasn't all.
'Thinking back on it now, every single one of Kevin's decisions was incredibly precise. I thought Young Master Roman hadn't given Kevin any instructions, but that wasn't the case. If Kevin hadn't been a mere commoner—if he had been just a little faster and a little stronger—that single decision might have made me the loser.'
He replayed the memory of the sparring match in his mind.
Imagining himself failing that surprise preemptive strike and getting countered, Chris began to theorize other ways to handle the exchange.
Those fleeting moments.
He analyzed them.
Examining every movement in minute detail, he tried to grasp the perspective from which Roman had been observing the fight.
'I used to think Young Master Roman was exactly as the rumors said: the Fool of Dmitry. But after losing my duel with him and witnessing this proxy battle with Kevin, I am absolutely certain. Young Master Roman is no ordinary genius. Though it defies all common sense, he has reached a realm that even my master, Knight Commander Jonathan, cannot hope to touch.'
Roman's realm.
He couldn't even begin to fathom it.
It wasn't just a matter of physical strength; the world of martial arts that Roman inhabited was on an entirely different dimension.
What did he see from up there?
Just crossing swords with Roman once, and then trying to understand Roman's decisions through the proxy duel, flooded his mind with countless realizations. It was a vast world he had never experienced while trapped like a frog at the bottom of a well. The more he analyzed his experiences, the more Chris was filled with pure, unadulterated admiration.
Roman.
The true meaning behind his words finally became clear.
He hadn't meant for Chris to simply stand by his side and wait for handouts; he had meant for Chris to watch him, study him, and find a way to grow strong on his own.
“Was I always this foolish?” he chuckled.
A wry smile formed on his lips.
Come to think of it, Roman had given him plenty of hints.
Even while teaching Kevin, Roman had said many things loud enough for Chris to hear, clearly intending for him to absorb the lessons. But Chris had stubbornly refused to accept them, dismissing them as mere basics. It was a rejection born of pure prejudice. Because he was a swordsman who had already reached a certain level, even though he had bowed his head and asked to learn, his pride meant he hadn't truly been ready to receive instruction.
But now he knew.
He realized that simply by watching Roman, comprehending the profound depths of his actions, and improving on his own, he could ascend to an entirely different realm.
“...I, Chris, do not truly know you yet. The Roman Dmitry I remember was a pathetic human being known as the Fool of Dmitry, but what you have shown recently is utterly incomprehensible to my common sense. What is certain, however, is that I acknowledge you. From this moment on, I will stay by your side, stealing and learning your every move until the day I surpass you.”
It was a solemn vow to himself.
Speaking to the empty room, Chris set a new, monumental goal.
And the very next day, Chris went straight to Roman and declared,
“I do not need your teachings. I will find a way to grow strong on my own by following you, Young Master Roman.”
On that day, Chris genuinely believed that until he surpassed Roman, he would simply live as Roman's sword.
But little did he know.
He had no idea that this declaration, uttered in a fleeting moment of youthful passion, would become a lifelong pledge—one that irrevocably decided the lord he would serve for the rest of his days.
In the annals of history, this would be recorded as the defining moment when the Flash of Cairo—the man who would one day shake the entire continent with his fame—decided his destiny at such a tender age.
And so, time passed.
A week later.
The day of Barco's social party finally arrived.