Chapter 34: Recruitment (7)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 34: Recruitment (7)
Sixty spars had already passed.
Watching countless applicants drop like flies, Lucas swallowed hard without realizing it.
Gulp.
'Can I really face that monster?'
He had felt it from the very first moment he laid eyes on Roman.
A monster.
There was no other word to describe him.
Just looking at the man squeezed his heart with a suffocating pressure, cold sweat beading on his forehead. His palms were drenched. He had recognized the sheer danger Roman posed from the very beginning. When Roman casually mentioned fighting a hundred and twenty spars back-to-back, Lucas couldn't laugh it off like the other applicants.
The frontline.
In that realm of life and death, where a single moment of carelessness meant a severed head, Lucas’s sharp instincts had always saved his life. This time was no different. Every instinct screamed that the man before him was an insurmountable monster. Based on his past experiences, avoiding a situation like this was the only way to survive.
It was a fight with a guaranteed defeat.
He gritted his teeth.
Even though passing the test meant working for a mere eight silver coins, he couldn't bring himself to turn back.
'I've never felt this way in my life. I've wandered battlefields and seen Rankers before, but pure power aside, no one has ever pressured me so intensely with their aura alone. Roman Dmitry is completely different from the fool I remember. He isn't someone who will rot away in the countryside; he will surely spread his wings and soar across the continent one day.'
Lucas.
A B-Rank Mercenary.
People said he had reached a great height, but Lucas knew he wasn't all that impressive.
B-Rank was the absolute limit of mundane effort.
An ordinary person risking their life and bleeding for every inch of progress could qualify for B-Rank, but as long as they couldn't use mana, the realm of A-Rank remained forbidden territory. From A-Rank onward, simple battlefield experience wasn't enough. One needed overwhelming martial strength, and the foundational requirement for that was the awakening of mana.
Therefore, Lucas had hit a wall.
After surviving a recent near-death experience, the bitter truth had finally sunk in: no matter how hard he struggled, he had reached his absolute limit.
Heading to Dmitry had been a choice born of despair.
He stood at a crossroads, yearning for a place to rest, when he saw the notice that Roman was recruiting private soldiers.
'Roman said it himself. He said if we follow him, he will let us live as predators. Rationally, I can't understand why I'm giving up my comfortable life as a B-Rank Mercenary to serve him, but for now, I want to believe his words. Just one year. Let's see if his promise holds true for just one year. So...'
Clench.
He squeezed his fists.
Stepping onto the stage, he looked at Roman and gripped the two wooden weapons he had specifically requested.
'First, passing the test is the priority.'
"Begin."
Tap.
The signal was given.
In that exact same instant, Lucas kicked off the ground.
In the previous duels, aside from the very first challenger, no one had dared to make a preemptive strike.
After watching that giant of a man fall helplessly, everyone concluded that attacking first was a suicidal choice.
It was only natural.
This spar wasn't a fight to win; it was a desperate struggle to survive for one minute. Rushing in to attack first was no different from offering one's neck to the opponent's blade.
However, Lucas thought differently.
'The moment I try to drag things out, even for a second, I won't be able to withstand his attacks. To survive for a minute, I must seize the initiative. That is the only way to win this match.'
It was a judgment born purely of instinct.
Once the decision was made, his execution was bold.
In battle, hesitation led directly to death. Without a shred of doubt, Lucas aimed for Roman's head and heart simultaneously.
Whoosh!
Lucas's choice of weapons was unique.
In his right hand, he wielded a slightly shorter sword, and in his left, a dagger. Both were wooden.
Roman had provided various types of wooden weapons upon the applicants' requests, so Lucas wasn't the first to use a non-standard loadout.
However, his attack style was unrivaled.
Head and heart.
While slashing at Roman's head with the short sword, he thrust the dagger toward his heart with all his might.
Swish.
Clack!
Roman's movements were utterly concise.
By taking a single step back, he slipped out of the dagger's range and deflected the incoming sword with his own wooden blade. Undeterred, Lucas rapidly closed the distance. Changing the trajectory of his sword, he swung it in a shallow arc toward Roman's neck, simultaneously throwing the dagger in his left hand straight at Roman's solar plexus.
It was an unorthodox tactic.
There hadn't been a single ranged attack in the previous sixty spars, yet Roman easily blocked both strikes with another swing of his sword.
'As expected.'
It was an admirable sight.
Normally, a relentless onslaught would force an opponent to reveal an opening, but Roman was like an impregnable iron fortress.
Lucas's breath caught in his throat.
He wanted to retreat and prepare for a counterattack, but he couldn't afford to step back now.
'He has no intention of killing me anyway. Even if I have to sacrifice my own flesh, I cannot hand over the initiative. Just until the forty-second mark. If I can hold out until then, I can just buy time afterward.'
Tap, tap.
He rushed in even faster.
Drawing another dagger he had kept hidden at his waist, he pressured his opponent once more with a two-pronged assault.
In that moment, Roman smirked.
'Not bad.'
It was quite decent.
An attack that completely disregarded one's own life wasn't a wise choice on a real battlefield, but Lucas seemed to have made a judgment specifically tailored for this spar.
A man driven by survival instincts. This type was highly useful in war. Lucas had already proven himself worthy of passing the test, but Roman had no intention of letting him last the full minute.
One minute.
It had to remain an insurmountable wall.
Roman needed to firmly imprint his absolute superiority into their minds during this first meeting. By showing them exactly how great the lord they would serve truly was, he sought to earn their blind, unwavering trust.
'Let's end this.'
Whoosh!
Tap, tap.
It happened in a flash.
Deflecting the dual assault, Roman's follow-up strike completely shattered Lucas's defense. Lucas couldn't even bring his weapons up to parry. Seeing the sheer shock wash over Lucas's face, the onlookers assumed the match was over.
But then—
Lucas, who had thrown his body to the ground to dodge the fatal strike, suddenly hurled a handful of sand right into Roman's face.
Swoosh!
It was a blatant dirty trick.
However, there were no special rules for this duel.
Roman had only commanded them to survive for a minute, and Lucas was willing to use any means necessary to achieve that.
'This is a fight where my life is on the line. To win, I must do everything I can!'
Dodging Roman's previous attack had been a gamble blessed by sheer luck.
Calculating the length of Roman's weapon, Lucas had thrown himself to the dirt, managing to evade the strike by a hair's breadth. The moment he hit the ground, he reached into his pocket and threw the sand he had prepared beforehand. Knowing he could never win under equal conditions, his desperate plan was to temporarily blind his opponent.
Swoosh!
Thud.
The sand hit its mark.
As a cloud of dust rose into the air, Lucas rolled across the ground, sprang to his feet, and charged forward like a raging bull.
A counterattack.
Now was the time to seize the momentum.
However, just as Lucas closed in and raised his sword to strike, his face drained of color.
"Huh?!"
Roman.
He was staring right at Lucas.
Lucas's mind ground to a halt.
For a second, he thought Roman might have dodged the attack, but he was left completely speechless when he saw the grains of sand clinging to Roman's eyes. The sand had hit him dead on. The dirty trick had worked perfectly. Yet, despite the agonizing sting, Roman hadn't closed his eyes. He was staring straight at his opponent.
His eyes were bloodshot and red.
By all logic, Roman should have shut his eyes tight and writhed in pain, but instead, he simply stood there, waiting for Lucas to charge.
In that moment...
Clack.
"...I surrender."
Lucas dropped his sword.
He raised both hands, signaling that he had absolutely no intention of fighting any further.
A quick, decisive surrender.
That, too, was a survival instinct honed on the battlefield.
Lucas's tactic?
Roman had seen it coming.
Even though he had watched Lucas reach into his pocket, Roman had allowed it. He wanted his opponent to show him everything he was capable of.
So, he took the sand head-on.
Despite the stinging pain, he stared straight at Lucas without so much as a blink.
'Never take your eyes off the opponent. That was a lesson engraved into my very bones from the depths of the Demonic Cult.'
He recalled the past.
The Demonic Cult.
Before they were taught martial arts in earnest, the very first thing the initiates trained in was how to keep their eyes open.
A martial artist, after all, was still human.
Since they could die just as easily from a stray blade, the devilish instructors commanded them never to close their eyes under any circumstances. A single blink in the midst of a deadly exchange could cost a life. Just as there was a strict breathing sequence when circulating internal energy, even the act of blinking had to be done under precise calculation.
The Demonic Cult's methods were brutal.
Throwing sand into their eyes was just the basics; the instructors would violently thrust daggers right up to their pupils.
And occasionally, accidents happened.
A trainee whose eye was pierced by a dagger would scream and collapse to his knees, blood pouring down his face as he clutched his ruined socket. Even so, the other trainees dared not look away. Blood and screams were daily occurrences in a world ruled by the survival of the fittest. Knowing that the injured trainee's slight flinch was what had led to the accident, the others simply gritted their teeth and endured, refusing to budge an inch.
The Heavenly Demon was forged in that hellscape.
The hardships Lucas had experienced?
Roman didn't know how much blood Lucas had seen, but without a doubt, the blood Baek Joong-hyuk had waded through could form a vast ocean.
Clack.
"...I surrender."
Lucas surrendered completely.
He dropped his sword and declared his total submission.
The test was over.
However, both Lucas and the watching applicants fully expected him to be punished.
'If I had known it would turn out like this, I wouldn't have gone as far as using sand.'
His plan had fallen apart.
He had wanted to survive for a minute by any means necessary and secure a 'pass' based on that technicality.
Instead, he had surrendered.
He knew exactly how pathetic it looked.
Those who proudly called themselves warriors would never utter the word surrender, even with a blade at their throats.
But unlike them, Lucas was a realist.
Realizing his plan had completely failed and completely overwhelmed by the sheer presence of his opponent, he had blurted out his surrender.
'He must be disappointed in me. No, he probably didn't expect anything from me in the first place.'
He swallowed hard.
He waited for his punishment.
Roman might lash out in anger.
Or, he might publicly declare his disqualification in front of everyone.
Lucas thought his own greed had ruined the opportunity, but even if he could turn back time, he would have made the exact same decision.
He was just that kind of man.
The blood-soaked frontline.
To survive in such a hell, he had lived a life completely devoid of shame.
But then—
"Next."
In that moment, Lucas looked up at Roman in sheer confusion.
Roman didn't get angry. He didn't ask why Lucas had used such a dirty trick.
Just the word, "Next."
It was a tacit approval.
With a single word, he acknowledged that Lucas's choice wasn't wrong, and that there was absolutely no reason to condemn him for trying to survive.
A B-Rank Mercenary who had weathered all kinds of hardships.
Yet, even a hardened veteran like Lucas couldn't hide his bewildered expression in that moment.