The Hero Confronted the Light Sword
'Damn it.'
Jena scowled as she swung her sword. The skill of this woman, the disciple of the Light Sword, far exceeded her expectations.
In truth, Jena hadn't thought she could handle the Light Sword either. She simply couldn't stomach his insults toward her father, nor the hero's introduction of that catgirl Dalshinyang as his pet. That was all.
But she never imagined she'd fall short against not just the Light Sword himself, but his disciple too.
"How long do you plan to just block?!"
Jena shouted at the Light Sword's disciple, who was slowly swinging her blade just enough to parry. Strangely, those languid strikes offered no openings, which only made Jena more impatient.
"Ah, I've been admiring the Darius family swordsmanship. But I had no intention of just blocking."
Lucille calmly deflected Jena's blade and created distance, her expression serene. It was only natural that this infuriated Jena.
Her face flushed with rage, Jena lunged again—and in that instant, their evenly matched bout ended abruptly.
Lucille dodged the heated charge and pressed her sword to Jena's throat.
"Fine swordsmanship, but still unrefined."
"Shut up!"
Jena tried to swing at Lucille for critiquing her technique, but I thrust my sword out to block her strike.
"That's enough, Jena. You've lost."
"...Kuh!"
Jena shot me a resentful glare, and I felt a twinge of guilt. But a loss was a loss.
If anything, this could spur her growth. I turned my gaze to Lucille.
Having inherited the Light Sword's style, her swordplay felt familiar to me. Of course, mine and hers were worlds apart.
Lucille had learned his techniques formally; I'd picked them up by peeking. And my style was a mishmash of everything anyway.
"Mind if I step in next?"
"Not at all."
I grinned at her reply and swung at her. As expected, Lucille raised her sword to block.
But the blade was bait. I clashed swords with her, then shoved my body forward into hers.
"Wh-what...!"
A startled gasp escaped Lucille's lips. With our blades locked, I hooked her retreating heel and tripped her.
Caught off guard by the dirty trick, she lost balance instantly. I crushed down on top of her.
Something soft and pillowy cushioned my face. I savored the sensation for a moment.
But the Light Sword was watching. I grabbed her breast with one hand, sat up, and met the eyes of Lucille staring up at me, her face beet red.
"Welcome to the floor. First time?"
I teased, straddling her. As I cocked my fist like I might punch her, the Light Sword radiated killing intent.
I glanced up at him and met his furious glare.
"That's far enough."
"Oh? If the Light Sword says so, I guess I have no choice. Shame, though."
I slid off Lucille without regret and addressed Frank, the Light Sword. I could take her anytime; this wasn't my only shot.
I chuckled at Lucille, who was brushing herself off with a flushed face.
"Didn't expect the hero to enjoy such filthy tricks. Care to face this old man too?"
"...Not really."
"Wh-what?!"
Frank flushed, clearly unprepared for my response. He might not get dismissed anywhere on the continent, but I didn't want to.
Lucille blushing was one thing; an old geezer like Frank was a whole different show.
"Just seems boring."
"Boring?! Everyone fawns over you as the hero, and it's gone to your head! Fine, let's see if it's boring or not—take my sword!"
Frank bellowed excitedly and charged. He feigned fury, but his blade held no emotion.
Sly old bastard.
I eyed him irritably and smacked his sword aside. Clang! Metal rang out, and his blade accelerated.
I parried strikes aimed at my head, legs, arms, and waist, then irritably extended my leg to kick his gut.
Ghetto would've called me a scoundrel, but Frank hardly seemed old.
"Not bad?"
Look at him—twisting to block my kick, grinning like he loved it.
"I'm the hero, aren't I?"
I retorted, channeling energy into the foot touching his blade. Applying the Jibo footwork I'd learned from the Mercenary Empress, I spun and aimed my heel at his temple.
"Dirty tricks!"
The Empress would've drawn steel on the spot, but Frank wouldn't blink even before her.
He ducked the spin kick and poured aura into his sword. Seeing the sharp energy form, I kicked his blade away and reeled back on the momentum.
"Hmph, sharp senses."
"Coming from a guy, that's kinda weird."
His lip twitched at my reply. He seemed thrilled to find a worthy opponent after so long.
That was his problem. I had no desire to cross blades with this monster of an old man.
"I hear the hero's immortal?"
"...Yeah?"
"Then take this!"
"You crazy old fuck!"
I yelled at his sword igniting white-hot. It was one of the Light Sword techniques I'd stolen—the one I'd used to blow away Butler Territory's walls.
"Ha! Feels good to go all out after ages!"
I gritted my teeth as he brought the blinding blade down. I could dodge with Jibo, but he'd just keep coming.
Better take the hit now. I infused my sword with aura and blocked.
BOOM!
An unbelievable explosion echoed from the clash. Fierce energy radiated from us, strong enough to lift Karen's skirt.
Oh, black today?
As my loins stirred at her ill-fitting black panties, Frank asked in shock.
"How do you know that technique?"
Right—the original creator calling out my plagiarism.
But before I could excuse myself, he pieced it together.
"I see. As expected of the hero? Hm."
"What're you on about?"
I tilted my head at his cryptic words, and he explained his deduction.
"You didn't know? I'm a descendant of the previous hero. So it's no surprise you'd use similar swordplay to my ancestor."
I scratched my head as he neatly resolved it. My theft was glossed over, but the previous hero bombshell threw me.
That guy who saved the dwarves single-handedly?
Elves and dwarves thought any problem vanished with a hero because of him. No idea how skilled he was, but he'd wiped out the demon army alone.
Impressive senior as a fellow hero, but as his junior... not so much.
Damn, should've slacked off a bit.
Too diligent, and you make enemies everywhere.