Chapter 50: Great Warrior Battle (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 50: Great Warrior Battle (5)
Benson had never believed in karma.
Even though he had run wild committing all sorts of misdeeds, his father's status as a knight had paved a smooth road for him. It eventually led him to become a knight of the Barco family—the true power in the northeast. Perhaps because of this, his pride in his knighthood was immense. He enjoyed a level of authority that commoners dared not even dream of, and he dedicated himself entirely to Barco, the source of that power.
What he had done to Kevin had been an expression of that excessive loyalty.
Unable to suppress his swelling pride, he had mocked the boy, never imagining it would lead to a consequence like this.
Is this what they call karma?
Dread clouded his mind.
While serving Antony Barco, he had crossed paths with Roman Dmitry many times. Although Roman's reputation had completely flipped after the Blood Fang incident, Benson had refused to believe the rumors. It was a natural conclusion for him. The Roman Dmitry he had seen and experienced firsthand was nothing but a fool. That was why Benson believed he could cross the line with impunity.
But reality was different.
Roman Dmitry had cut down Homeros.
Watching that blood-soaked spectacle, goosebumps erupted all over Benson's body, even though he wasn't the one fighting.
I made a truly massive mistake.
If only.
If only he had known Roman's true nature.
Benson would never have laid a finger on Kevin. He would have done everything in his power to align himself with Dmitry instead of Barco. But the milk was already spilled. His life as a knight of Barco bound him, and his arrogant behavior had returned to strike him like a boomerang. Viscount Barco's command to step forward as the final Great Warrior was not something he could refuse. Knowing this, he walked out with a face as pale as a condemned prisoner's.
Fuck.
The gazes of the crowd did not look up to him.
Instead of cheering for Barco's knight, they looked at Benson as if he were already a corpse.
"I am Benson of Barco."
He barely managed to suppress the tremor in his voice.
What kind of expert would step forward?
He had heard there was a 2-Star Swordsman in Lawrence. The moment that man stepped out, Benson's death would be guaranteed.
God, please. Just save me this once.
It was then.
A figure walked out from the Lawrence camp.
A familiar face.
A slight build.
In that instant, Benson could not hold back the laughter bubbling up inside him.
No way... Is he my opponent?
There was no mistake.
It was the boy soldier he had slapped.
Seeing that brat step forward as if he were actually a Great Warrior, Benson looked up at the sky and clenched his fists tight.
Thank you, God. Thank you so much.
He thought to himself:
He was going to live.
In his eyes, Kevin looked like a pardon.
*
Flutter.
The final duel began.
Benson's tension completely melted away.
Even though the flag had signaled the start of the match, he did not rush in immediately. Instead, he adopted a leisurely posture.
"At first, I couldn't believe my eyes. Even if the overall victory has already been decided, I never imagined they would send a piece of trash like you out as the final Great Warrior."
He smirked.
A grin spread across his face.
With the corners of his mouth curling upward, he couldn't hide his sheer delight.
"Well, I suppose you wanted your little revenge. But whether it was your choice or not, you've been abandoned by your lord. Think about it. If you were the commander, would you send out a scrawny brat who looks like he can't even swing a sword properly as your final Great Warrior? Of course not! This just means you're completely worthless to him. The moment you accepted this order, your fate was sealed."
He raised his sword.
Even then, Kevin silently watched Benson's every move.
Spreading his feet into a proper stance, he pointed the tip of his sword directly at Benson, his gaze razor-sharp.
"Arrogant little shit."
Perhaps because of the relief of knowing he would survive, his pride flared up belatedly.
Seeing a pathetic brat glaring at him as if he actually stood a chance, Benson kicked off the ground with a fierce scowl.
"Die!"
Thud, thud.
Benson's movements were slow.
Compared to the entirely different level of the previous two duels, his speed didn't seem particularly impressive to the onlookers. Even so, no one doubted Benson's victory. Kevin was so small that anyone could tell he was just a boy soldier at a glance, whereas Benson's massive physique completely overwhelmed his opponent.
It was a clear disparity in strength.
As Benson swung his sword with heavy momentum, Kevin tilted his head slightly and lunged directly into his opponent's guard.
Slash.
Blood splattered.
A line of blood appeared on Kevin's cheek, but ignoring it, he thrust his sword upward, aiming directly beneath Benson's chin. The underside of the chin was an area unprotected by armor—a lethal target. Benson raised his arm to block the blade while simultaneously driving his other fist straight into Kevin's abdomen.
Clang!
Thud!
Kevin's attack was blocked.
A sword without Aura could not pierce steel, and Kevin's expression twisted slightly from the heavy blow to his stomach.
However, he did not retreat.
Without letting out a single groan, Kevin swung his sword at his opponent's opening once more, treating the pain in his abdomen like it was nothing. The speed of his blade was faster than expected. The muscles he had forged through farming and hard labor unleashed their power, cleanly slicing through the joint connecting the armor's pauldron and breastplate.
Slash!
"Urgh."
Benson swallowed a groan.
An unexpected counterattack.
Benson immediately slammed his body weight into his opponent.
Kevin was thrown backward. Seeing him roll across the ground, Benson charged in and brought his sword crashing down.
"Die!"
Thud!
It was a hair's breadth.
Because Kevin rolled away just in time, the sword plunged deep into the dirt. Kevin scrambled to his feet and immediately closed the distance. He relentlessly refused to give Benson any breathing room. Given the physical disparity between a boy and a grown man, their attack ranges were vastly different. Kevin instinctively knew he had to stay close. Even as his face was cut and his body was slammed into the ground, he never lost his footing.
Clang!
Clash! Clash! Clang!
Their swords clashed in a frantic frenzy.
While Benson clearly held the physical advantage and was pressing his opponent hard, he couldn't land a decisive blow.
"You little bastard!"
Benson's face flushed red with anger.
His pride was wounded.
His opponent was a mere boy soldier.
While he had walked an elite path to earn his knighthood, Kevin was a nobody of unknown origin.
Yet, he still hadn't finished him off.
His blood boiled.
He had originally intended to toy with the boy before ending it, but the sheer venom in Kevin's eyes changed his mind.
I'm going to kill him, no matter what.
He shifted his mindset.
Even if he had to take a few hits himself, he wanted to brutally punish this brat who didn't know his place.
"Where do you think you're going?!"
Whoosh.
Kevin snapped his head back to avoid a powerful swing from Benson's sword.
It was a spine-chilling moment.
Benson lunged forward like a rabid dog.
Abandoning his defense to some extent, Benson unleashed a tempest of consecutive strikes. Kevin stumbled backward, barely managing to parry the onslaught. With every clash, Kevin's body shuddered. The sheer force transmitting through his blade meant that even a successful block rattled his bones. Under Benson's relentless pressure, Kevin was pushed all the way back to the edge of the crowd.
The outcome of the match seemed obvious.
Benson's victory.
No other result could be expected.
The physical disparity was simply too overwhelming. A mere month or two of training was not enough to grow strong enough to defeat a knight.
Clang!
"..."
Kevin's arm was knocked aside, unable to withstand his opponent's brute strength.
Seizing the opening, Benson poured all his strength into a follow-up strike.
Whoosh!
The sword sliced through the air.
It was a moment of absolute crisis.
Seeing Kevin attempt to counterattack simultaneously, Benson decided to expose his own chest to finish the fight right then and there.
A pathetic sword like that can't pierce my armor anyway.
In a duel without Aura, the advantage of armor was absolute.
Just before Benson's sword could cleave Kevin in two, Benson's eyes suddenly widened in shock.
Slash!
Splat!
A sword glowing crimson.
Kevin's blade sliced clean through Benson's armor, sending dozens of blood droplets spraying before Benson's eyes.
Roman had told him.
The Ghost Soul Demonic Art demanded pain and sacrifice, but in return, it was a path that allowed one to grow faster than any other method.
Those words were true.
From the day he had severed his own arm, the Ghost Soul Demonic Art had taken root in Kevin's mind.
–Kill him, kill him, kill him!
–That bastard is hurting you right now!
–Avenge yourself this instant!
The egos of the Ghost Soul Demonic Art clamored.
They were auditory hallucinations—an illusionary price of the Ghost Soul Demonic Art that plagued his mind.
Kevin faced Benson with eyes burning crimson. The physical pain meant nothing to him. Even when Benson's massive fist slammed into his abdomen, it was nothing compared to the agony of severing his own arm.
He endured it.
Suppressing the pain, he closed the distance to his opponent.
–Above!
–Watch out!
His instincts screamed.
The opponent was swinging his sword from top to bottom.
Kevin trusted the voice of the Ghost Soul Demonic Art and dodged the attack by a hair's breadth. Benson's sword swept viciously past his eyes. In this life-or-death situation where a single moment of carelessness meant demise, Kevin felt truly alive.
I want to be a useful sword for my lord.
Chris had been chosen as a Great Warrior.
Seeing Chris speak with such confidence about defeating a 3-Star Knight, Kevin had felt a pang of envy.
He had been first.
He had resolved to follow Roman even before Chris did, and it angered him that he couldn't be of greater use simply due to a lack of talent. His family had received immense grace from Roman. Yet, what on earth was he doing for Roman in return? He wanted to earn Roman's trust and execute his commands just like Chris did, but all he had done was stand there and get beaten by Benson while the man insulted his lord.
Call it an inferiority complex if you will.
Or perhaps an excessive sense of loyalty.
But Kevin wanted revenge.
He wanted to tear apart the mouth of the man who had insulted Roman and prove that he, too, was a useful sword.
It was then.
Whoosh!
Benson's attack came.
His opponent was certain of victory.
Benson believed he could win by sacrificing his chest, a fatal mistake born from failing to truly understand Kevin.
Ghost Soul Demonic Art.
–Kyahahaha!
–Kill him!
A trace of Mana.
A crimson energy flared from the sword.
Though it was a power he could only sustain for a mere fraction of a second, it possessed more than enough strength to cleave through steel.
Slash!
He sliced through the armor.
The flesh beneath was torn open, and crimson blood splattered into his eyes.
"..."
He saw Benson's panicked face.
Even as his expression twisted in excruciating pain, Benson desperately swung his sword at Kevin to survive.
Kevin did not dodge.
A chunk of flesh was torn from his shoulder.
Benson's sword instantly shredded the boy's frail flesh, but in exchange, his own chest was left completely exposed.
Kevin lunged forward.
With every movement, the flesh of his shoulder tore even more brutally, yet Kevin's vision focused solely on Benson's wound. There was a time when he would make a fuss over a tiny cut on his finger. But the child who had once lived wrapped in his parents' love had been completely transformed by the harsh storms of life.
Kevin's expression turned vicious.
For a split second, his eyes locked with Benson's.
The moment the face that had once looked down on him filled with sheer terror, Kevin plunged his blade into the wound without a shred of hesitation.
Stab!
"Argh!"
Benson screamed.
He no longer had the strength to use Mana.
He had to rely solely on physical strength now. As Benson collapsed, Kevin mounted him, pinning his upper body down. Grabbing the blade of his own sword with his bare hands, he repeatedly stabbed down into the wound. His palms were sliced open and pain flared, but he was entirely consumed by the single-minded urge to kill his opponent.
Stab! Stab!
Splat!
"Gurgle..."
Blood sprayed every time the blade was pulled out.
Frothing blood at the mouth as he writhed in agony, Benson desperately tried to push Kevin away with his blood-soaked hands, struggling to survive. But that was all he could do. His pathetic struggles could stop nothing. Even as Benson clawed at his eyes and tore at his hair, Kevin relentlessly hacked and stabbed at the wound until the very end.
Benson's body convulsed.
There was no more resistance.
Only after stabbing the wound several more times did Kevin finally raise his head, panting heavily.
"Haa... haa..."
Benson's state was so gruesome that it could hardly be recognized as a human body.
The final duel.
The victor was Kevin.
Everyone held their breath.
Kevin looked like an evil ghost.
Even though it was a fight to the death, his sheer brutality made several onlookers cover their mouths in horror.
Kevin stumbled to his feet.
His face was drenched in blood.
Blood steadily dripped from his shredded shoulder, but he walked forward as if the wound meant nothing to him.
Every eye was fixed on him.
With every agonizing step he took, the crowd's gaze followed.
How far had he walked?
Kevin finally stopped in front of Roman.
Meeting Roman's calm, downward gaze, Kevin looked up at him like a child seeking praise.
"I have returned."
At those words, Roman granted Kevin his reward.
"You did well, Kevin."
That alone was enough.
Kevin smiled brightly, as if he had won the entire world.
The battle was over.
The Great Warrior Battle between Lawrence and Barco had ended.
Though everyone had predicted Barco's victory, the actual outcome was more than enough to send shockwaves through the Cairo Kingdom.
Three matches, three victories.
An overwhelming victory for Lawrence.
And at the very center of it all stood Roman Dmitry.