Chapter 48: Great Warrior Battle (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 48: Great Warrior Battle (3)
The ranking system originated in the Valhalla Empire.
Situated at the southernmost tip of the continent, they had forged a unique culture in a harsh, isolated environment surrounded by tropical jungles. Valhalla was known as the sanctuary of warriors. To reach the afterlife—where eternal blessings were bestowed upon those who died honorably in battle—the people of Valhalla gladly risked their lives. The children of the empire, regardless of gender, underwent a brutal coming-of-age ceremony that involved hunting monsters. They were an incredibly warlike people; parents would rejoice in the sheer glory of victory even if their child returned crippled.
Valhalla.
They constantly sought to have their martial prowess validated.
It was never enough to simply win; they meticulously recorded the results, documenting exactly who was the strongest. That obsession gave birth to the ranking system. At first, it was a culture unique to Valhalla, but as the empire expanded its territory, the ranking system swept across the entire continent as a cultural phenomenon.
The rankings were strictly managed by Valhalla.
They compiled the list based on undeniable evidence. Even the Cairo Kingdom had its top one hundred strongest figures registered on it.
Homeros, ranked 49th.
His appearance was bound to send shockwaves through the crowd.
‘To think Barco would send out the Wandering Swordsman as their Great Warrior.’
Viscount Lawrence's face fell in despair.
The Wandering Swordsman.
There was no one in the Cairo Kingdom who did not know his name.
Like Berge, Homeros was a former A-Rank Mercenary. But unlike Berge, who had built his reputation through leading a mercenary group, Homeros was recognized purely for his individual martial prowess. He earned his moniker by traveling across the kingdom, constantly seeking out duels with the strong. As a 3-Star Swordsman, Homeros had accumulated immense fame through countless battles, eventually achieving the feat of reaching 49th in the rankings.
If his story had ended there, Viscount Lawrence would not have been this despondent.
Recently, Homeros had fought a duel against a 4-Star Swordsman known as the gatekeeper of the top 30. Although he lost that duel—exposing the limits of a 3-Star Swordsman—he attained enlightenment during the life-and-death struggle and advanced to the next level.
The 4-Star Realm.
News of Homeros's breakthrough had swept through the kingdom. Everyone coveted the chance to recruit a 4-Star Swordsman, and his value skyrocketed by the day.
And now, such a figure had appeared in the Great Warrior Battle.
Even if it had been the Homeros of the past, people would have braced themselves for defeat at the mere mention of his name. But the current Homeros was an invincible swordsman with no equal in the entire northeastern region. The atmosphere, previously brimming with the confidence of victory, turned ice-cold in an instant. Without a word, everyone instinctively turned their eyes to one person.
Roman Dmitry.
They were curious to see his expression. Since Lawrence's Great Warrior was practically a dead man walking against Homeros, the crowd naturally expected Roman to wave the white flag and forfeit the match.
Roman did not know who Homeros was.
However, putting aside the crowd's terrified reaction, he could tell just by facing Homeros's aura that the man was strong.
‘Interesting.’
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. This was exactly why life was so unpredictable.
Through his information guild, Roman had investigated Barco's movements and discovered they had borrowed a massive sum from the Golden Bank to hire the Berge Mercenary Group. That was the extent of the information available to the public. With Roman's current intelligence network, he couldn't uncover the remaining thirty percent of the power Barco had kept hidden, and so the day of the decisive battle had dawned.
And now, Barco had revealed even more than that hidden thirty percent. No one had expected them to not only spend a fortune to deploy Flare, but to also hire a 4-Star Swordsman.
‘If I had relied on this level of information warfare against the sly old foxes of the Demonic Cult, my head would have been severed before I could even put up a proper fight. But against Barco, that won't happen. Just as they hid their strength, they have no idea what kind of existence I am either.’
Ahead of the war, Roman had prepared thoroughly.
He made sure that even if he encountered the strong figures described in the history books, it wouldn't be a problem. Like hammering steel countless times in the flames of a furnace, he had forged his own body to make up for his lack of intelligence-gathering capabilities.
Therefore, this was actually exciting.
It was a rare opportunity to fight a strong opponent. If the man was powerful enough to turn the crowd's faces pale, he would serve as an excellent benchmark for this world's martial standards.
Step.
"I am..."
Just as he was about to introduce himself and take a step forward, someone suddenly grabbed his wrist from behind.
"Forfeit."
It was Flora.
Just like Viscount Lawrence, the moment she recognized Homeros, she realized they had fallen into a deadly trap.
"Your opponent is Homeros, ranked 49th. He's not just any ranker; he has entered the 4-Star Realm and is projected to rise above the top 30 in the future. Do you really think you can defeat someone like him? Our plan has completely failed. You demanded that Lawrence make sacrifices, and now it's our turn to pay the price for this unforeseen variable. So step back. Save your life by forfeiting, and pray desperately that Lawrence's knight wins the second match."
Flora's feelings toward Roman were complicated. She detested his selfishness in pursuing only his own interests, but regardless of his motives, she could not let the only person who had helped Lawrence die. This was a fight with a predetermined outcome. Since Homeros had no reason to spare Roman, Flora realistically hoped he would choose to forfeit.
She was right. Even if Roman waved the white flag and surrendered, no one would blame him given Homeros's fearsome reputation.
However.
"I refuse."
He shook off her hand. As he began to walk forward again, Flora cried out in desperation.
"You're really going to die! This is strictly Lawrence's business. There's no reason for you to risk your life in a fight you can't win!"
Stop.
He halted. Without looking back at Flora, Roman kept his gaze fixed on Homeros.
The man carried himself as if he were an absolute being. Seeing Homeros look down on everyone, Roman had felt a fierce competitive urge surge within him from the moment he laid eyes on the swordsman.
"It is my choice. I have no desire to explain myself to you, so do not get in my way from now on."
He spat out the words coldly, not bothering to check Flora's expression. Their relationship ended here anyway.
Roman stepped forward. Facing Homeros, who was watching him with an amused look, Roman spoke, completely defying everyone's expectations.
"I am Roman Dmitry, representing Lawrence."
The declaration of the Great Warrior.
He had finally crossed the point of no return.
* * *
Flutter.
The flag signaled the start of the duel.
There was none of the explosive aggressiveness seen in the first match. Neither Homeros nor Roman rushed in; both waited calmly for the other to make the first move.
‘To think I have to deal with a mere small fry like this.’
Homeros had absolutely no interest in this duel.
He had heard the rumors about his opponent. A man who was once mocked as the Fool of Dmitry, but was now evaluated as completely transformed after subjugating Blood Fang and intervening in this battle. Possessing a destructive power capable of destroying Flare indicated he was at least a 2-Star Aura Swordsman, but that alone was not enough to pique Homeros's interest.
‘If not for my personal circumstances, I would have challenged Fernando right away.’
Fernando was a 4-Star Swordsman, the man known as the gatekeeper of the top 30. Having lost to him previously, Homeros had ground his teeth in determination and clawed his way up to the 4-Star Realm.
Now, he finally possessed the strength to face Fernando. Homeros had been preparing for a ranking match immediately, but he had temporarily postponed it at the request of his mercenary guild.
"Homeros. We've been offered a massive sum in exchange for you participating in the Great Warrior Battle just once. I know you're eager to fight Fernando, but please consider our position this one time. The opponent is Lawrence, a backwater family that doesn't even have a 3-Star Swordsman. It will be a dull fight that won't even serve as a light warm-up for you."
He had no reason to refuse.
Since obtaining his A-Rank mercenary plaque, Homeros had not taken on any proper missions. He had been too busy wandering the kingdom to duel the strong, and his massive expenses had been fully covered thanks to the consideration of the mercenary guild. It was a matter of give-and-take. Homeros got to do what he wanted, while the mercenary guild built its reputation through him. Having reached the 4-Star Realm under their patronage, Homeros could not simply ignore the guild master's request.
It was truly a tedious moment.
The sheer boredom of having to travel all the way to the countryside to face some nameless nobody was written all over his face.
‘Let's get this over with quickly.’
He had no intention of going all out. He would do just enough to earn his pay.
Homeros lightly kicked off the ground and swung his sword toward his opponent.
Whoosh!
He was fast.
While it was merely a "light" effort by Homeros's standards, to the eyes of ordinary people, it was incomparably faster than Chris or Janson. A ranker belonged to a world beyond the heavens. The spectators fully believed Roman would fail to block Homeros's attack and have his head severed in a single strike.
However.
Clang!
The attack was blocked.
As Homeros immediately stepped forward to unleash a follow-up combo, Roman stood his ground and countered.
Clang!
Cl-cl-clang!
They exchanged a flurry of blows in the blink of an eye.
Homeros had assumed a 3-Star Aura would be more than enough to suppress his opponent, but even as their aura-clad swords clashed repeatedly, Roman showed no signs of being pushed back. It was an absurd sight. The aura on Roman's sword was so faint that one might even doubt if it was aura at all, yet he was effortlessly blocking the attacks with such a pathetic display of energy.
‘Look at this.’
It was strange. An anomaly that completely defied common sense.
His interest was finally piqued. Curious about how Roman was manifesting his aura, Homeros decided to test him by raising his 3-Star Aura to its absolute peak.
He still didn't go all out. He judged that this level of power would be more than enough to subdue the boy.
Rumble.
Rumbllle.
His internal energy seethed.
As his mana surged, aura exploded from his blade. The refined 3-Star Aura looked poised to finish Roman off then and there. It was on a completely different level from Janson's aura. While Janson was a swordsman who had barely managed to reach the 3-Star Realm, Homeros was a seasoned veteran who had thoroughly mastered the 3-Star Realm before stepping into the 4-Star Realm—he was truly in a league of his own.
The decisive blow.
The spectators widened their eyes. Faced with Homeros's overwhelming presence, they fully expected Roman to dodge this time.
At that moment.
"Hey."
It was a fierce, cold voice. When Homeros looked up, Roman was staring straight at him with icy eyes.
"Try blocking this."
Flash.
His vision went blank.
That was Homeros's last memory.
* * *
A duel with a 4-Star Swordsman.
He had been excited. His blood had boiled, and Roman had thought he would finally be able to enjoy a proper fight after a long time.
However, reality was disappointing.
Homeros was not taking this duel seriously, and despite utterly failing to grasp his opponent's true level, he maintained a condescending attitude.
‘So he thinks I'm an easy target.’
With Chris, he had understood. That was because of his terrible reputation back then. But even though he had consistently shown actions that vastly differed from his past, he kept encountering people who looked down on him and acted rashly. To Roman, this was an incomprehensible breed of human. In a life-or-death duel, how could someone show such blind confidence without even knowing their opponent's strength?
His excitement rapidly cooled.
For this duel, he had prepared thoroughly.
He had laid the foundation for the Heavenly Demon Divine Art using the Flame Divine Art, and now he was capable of executing the first three forms of the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique. It was still not enough. Having recovered less than ten percent of his original power, Roman had constantly pushed himself to the limit to improve.
Yet, Homeros dared to look down on him.
Roman had not stepped onto this stage to seek the validation of others. He had simply wanted to test himself against Homeros as a swordsman. His ultimate goal was not the attention of onlookers, but revenge against Barco.
Therefore, he changed his mind.
If his opponent was going to underestimate him, there was no reason to drag this duel out.
"Hey."
Whoosh.
He channeled his mana. It was completely different from his opponent's method. Rising from within like a gentle wave, his mana wrapped around his sword, violently drawing in the surrounding energy of the world.
‘Heavenly Demon Sword Technique, Third Form.’
The Heavenly Demon Sword Technique had no fixed form. It conformed entirely to the will of the swordsman. It was an unpredictable, irregular attack that the opponent could never anticipate, and its destructive power multiplied with each successive form.
This was the martial art that had conquered Murim.
He poured his full strength into it. If Homeros could withstand this strike, Roman would acknowledge his confidence and fight him to the death.
"Try blocking this."
Flash.
He swung his sword.
That was it.
Homeros could not even react. Still frozen in the realization that he was supposed to be attacking, his sword and his body were split in half simultaneously, spraying a fountain of blood into the air.
Splurt!
A single strike.
Just like with Berge, the battle was decided in a mere fraction of a second.