Chapter 71
Chapter 71
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: A Lesson in Swordsmanship
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The crowd murmured, but no one stepped forward.
Loan's words had been provocative, yet they also strangely pricked their pride, making them hesitant to act.
"No matter how you look at it, the matchup is beneath us."
"Exactly. I want to smash that glib mouth of his right now, but wouldn't that just prove his point?"
It wasn't because they were afraid of Loan.
Their opponent was a mere grunt from the Union.
Everyone knew his rank. Among Libertha's ranks, there were countless who had tried and failed to join the Union.
At his level, he was practically an apprentice. Besides, the opponent hadn't even fully shed his boyish looks.
He had managed to stir them up, but subjectively, he was clearly weaker than they were.
Pride made them hesitate.
Even those who had failed the Union's entrance exam felt the matchup was beneath them.
Meanwhile, Libertha's command watched the commotion in silence.
The situation was strange in many ways.
"Those Union bastards are up to their cowardly tricks again..."
"Don't we have anyone of a similar age?"
"There's a perfect guy, but he's the branch manager in Denton, so he probably couldn't make it."
"That bastard. So arrogant, relying only on his skills. Of course he didn't show."
Amid the clamor, someone finally pushed through the crowd and stepped forward.
The man, walking for some time amidst cheers and applause, suddenly stopped in the middle ground and shouted.
"Libertha... Mar... your arrogance... I'll teach... you a lesson!"
His voice was unclear.
Murmurs of "What's he saying?" arose from both the Union and the Barcino camps simultaneously.
Perhaps he, too, realized his voice wasn't carrying well.
The man, whose name sounded something like Mar, screamed once more.
"Libertha... Mar..."
"That's enough. You tried."
Though not loud, Loan's voice, which rang out clearly across the plains, cut him off.
For a moment, the plains fell silent.
Loan glanced back, meeting the eyes of Duke Barcino, Commander Hans, Vice-Commander Oscar, and Sienna, one by one.
"I will buy us time until the reinforcements arrive."
This was Loan's plan.
Libertha valued the growth of martial strength above all else, so provoking them on that point was sure to get a reaction.
They were the ones who had called the Union cowards. If he, a mere grunt, formally requested a one-on-one duel, they couldn't refuse.
If he provoked their pride just enough, they would have no choice but to send out a similar opponent.
In that case, there was no way he could lose.
It would have been a boy's childish boast, but coming from Loan, it was different.
That was why it had already been approved.
Now, all that was left was to execute the plan.
After a final glance at Lucas, Loan turned and walked forward.
Was he really going to take responsibility for the next few hours alone, until the sun reached its zenith?
Lucas sensed that was Loan's intention and that he would surely succeed, but he couldn't help but add a word.
"Don't overdo it. There's another grunt right here!"
Lucas would never be able to drag out a fight, so his turn would never come.
Without turning his head, Loan raised a hand and gave a slight wave.
A moment later, he stood face-to-face with the man from Libertha.
He had a youthful face. Perhaps around twenty years old.
It was a stretch to call him Loan's peer, but it wasn't worth making an issue of.
In any case, it was understandable why he'd boldly stepped up for a duel; his body was quite well-honed.
There was no excess fat, and his gaze was sharp. The impurity and density of his mana were on par with Balder's.
"Marttin, of Libertha's assault squad."
"Ah, so your name is Marttin. I couldn't hear you clearly."
"..."
"I assume you know my name."
"Loan. A name that's about to disappear."
Marttin jabbered with a foul smile.
It seemed like a rehearsed line, but Loan just nodded nonchalantly and asked back.
"Will you be using a sword?"
"Of course."
"Then I'll humor you with a sword as well."
"You have a sword?"
Marttin scanned Loan's body, but no matter how he looked, there was no sword.
All he seemed to have were several leather pouches on his belt...
"Yes. This is my scabbard."
As he spoke, Loan levitated one of his Shevilles into the air.
The small sword fragment circled Loan once before stopping between his eyebrows, pointing at Marttin.
Marttin's face contorted.
"You madman. Are you saying you'll fight me with that sword fragment?"
"Yes. I don't hold a sword in my hand. This is more than enough."
It truly was enough.
The mass of atmospheric magic he had taken from Aul's stomach was still contained within his Convection.
Even if it was weak compared to other masses of magic, that was only a relative comparison.
Spreading the sound waves far and deep hadn't diminished that vast amount of mana.
The Convection swirling around Loan was so dense it felt like overkill.
Using it to firmly grip and control a small sword fragment felt almost extravagant.
Therefore, not launching the Sheville at the opponent before him was a purely strategic decision.
*'No need to rush.'*
Buying time was his job, and the path to the Union's victory.
"Arrogant bastard. There's a limit to hubris."
Marttin ground his teeth and drew his sword.
The sharp blade seemed well-maintained. They were clearly serious about their swordsmanship.
*'Which is why they fell for the provocation so easily.'*
Loan, grateful for their foolishness, gave a slight nod.
"Let's see it, then. Libertha's swordsmanship."
At Loan's words, Marttin waited no longer.
With a *thump*, he stomped on the dry ground and thrust his sword toward Loan.
A straight thrust.
He probably thought it was a good move, considering his opponent's weapon.
But that only applied to a worthy opponent.
To Loan, Marttin's sword strike felt incredibly slow.
*Vwoom—*
He tightened his Convection, forming a Domain that pressed down on the incoming sword force.
How precisely could he control it?
In that brief moment, he gave himself a challenge. No, it was a momentary amusement.
Loan precisely adjusted his Convection and met the tip of Marttin's sword with the tip of his Sheville.
*Zzziiing—!*
To Loan, who could perceive mana particles and their structure, the single point where the swords met was like a vast plane.
But from Marttin's perspective, it was an impossible, almost magical feat.
"What the..."
Even as he dug his heels in and pushed with both hands, the tiny, hovering sword fragment wouldn't budge at all.
Loan spoke.
"Your innate character may be flawed, but you have talent. Making a thrust your first move was a good decision. But that's not your specialty, is it?"
"..."
They were still locked in a contest of strength.
And in the middle of it, he was speaking to his opponent in such a low voice?
It was something Marttin had never experienced or even imagined.
Yet for some reason, he wanted to hear more of what Loan was saying. It was a separate impulse from his body's will to pierce Loan's throat.
Loan suddenly tilted his head.
"You've honed your body well and gathered your mana properly. So why is there no Aura?"
In that instant, Marttin was deeply offended. He'd actually been listening, only to be met with such contempt.
"This son of a..."
Marttin instantly redistributed his strength and withdrew his sword.
Having lost its opponent, the sword fragment shot straight for the man's brow.
Marttin reflexively spun to deflect the fragment, then immediately charged at Loan.
*Clang—! Clang—! Kshhh-clang—!*
The Sheville, having returned in an instant, blocked all of his strikes.
He could have overpowered him, but in preparation for a long fight, he simply deflected the blows.
However, for the sake of the onlookers, he moved his body extravagantly.
He could have stood perfectly still, but he deliberately, intentionally, swung his arms wide and moved his feet about.
As if he needed such violent movements to control the Sheville.
The owner of these very flashy gestures, Loan, spoke.
"That wasn't my intention. Are you angry? It seems you, too, were frustrated by your lack of progress."
Loan was suddenly genuinely curious.
He had considered imbuing his Sheville with Aura, but it wasn't something he needed to fixate on right now.
However, he wanted to grasp the principle behind it.
*'It would help Lucas and Sophie, too.'*
With that thought, he began to lecture Marttin.
"When you swing down, your balance wavers slightly. It's not a problem with your body. It feels more like your mana isn't being channeled properly."
"Nonsense."
*Clang—Clang!*
"No. It's the same now. You stepped forward with your right foot and tried to swing your sword upward, but the flow of your mana was a quarter of a step too slow."
"Bullshit! Bullshit!"
"There's that wasted motion again. Too many thoughts? I didn't think you were intelligent enough for that."
"You crazy...!"
*Whish—! Craaack!*
The two were supposed to be raising morale with a one-on-one duel on a battlefield where hundreds would fight for their lives.
From a distance, that's how it looked. A fierce clash between titans.
In reality, they were leisurely discussing swordsmanship.
It was no different from a guided sparring session.
But Marttin wasn't gaining any enlightenment from Loan's advice.
Loan watched his opponent's reactions and continued to verbalize his thoughts.
"I see. Perhaps the starting point of the flow is wrong. Instead of drawing it from your core..."
As Loan trailed off, an impatient Marttin's attacks grew even more ferocious.
But the Sheville was there to meet every trajectory of his sword.
*Clang—Ksh-clang—!*
Marttin's voice squeezed through the deadly sounds made by the sword and the sword fragment.
"This bastard, you stopped mid-sentence. Instead of that, what's next?"
"So the answer was in mana control after all. You'll never find the answer by just swinging your sword a hundred days when it's not working."
"..."
"You need to change your breathing itself. With the image of channeling mana through the blade to the tip of the sword. The core is too slow. Perhaps the starting point should be the heart."
As he said this, Loan himself altered his own flow.
He treated the Sheville, floating in the air and blocking Marttin's attacks, as an extension of his own body.
*'I am a person with very long arms.'*
He moved beyond the concept of moving it with his will, and instead imagined it as a virtual arm.
Convection, the wave of mana flowing through his body—wasn't it ultimately an extension of himself?
After constructing the image, he focused his consciousness more on the rotation of his heart, which was firmly maintaining the Convection.
*'This feels different from usual.'*
Soon, a faint shimmer rose from Loan's Sheville.
The moment Marttin's eyes widened.
*Kaaang—!*
Marttin's sword broke.
"Why..."
Muttering, Marttin wore a look of utter bewilderment.
His gaze drifted from his broken sword to the fragment on the ground, and then to the shimmering fragment in the air.
He had been on the verge of an epiphany, trying to refine his breathing.
Why now, of all times, was Aura rising from *this bastard's* sword fragment?
How in the world could a floating sword fragment contain Aura?
Marttin couldn't understand.
Nor Loan's next words.
"I can't learn any more from you."
And with that, his neck was pierced.
In the brief moment the sword fragment passed through his neck, Marttin learned one new thing.
The Aura piercing his flesh felt like his opponent's touch.
It was utterly meaningless.
*Thud—*
Tearing his gaze from the fallen Marttin, Loan spoke toward the Libertha camp.
"He showed sincerity, but it wasn't enough. Is there anyone here who can teach me something?"
His calm voice traveled across the plains, reaching the hearts of all who heard it.