The Mad Fang Sword

A flame of exhilaration kindled in Raon's eyes as he closed the swordsmanship manual.

It was a Sensory Sword.

A Sensory Sword was a category of swordsmanship that did not raise one's level by drilling the same forms over and over. It advanced through actual combat. The art those trainees from the Sixth Training Ground had nearly used to topple Burren had been a Sensory Sword. Because it could be brought into a real fight the moment it was learned, and because it progressed so quickly, a Sensory Sword of any real quality was something money alone could not buy.

And this one is upper-tier, even among Sensory Swords.

He knew because he had learned Sensory Swords in his previous life. The Mad Fang Sword was a high-level art fully worthy of being called upper-tier among them.

It's just savage.

It was a treasure a fortune in gold could not purchase — and it was vicious in the extreme. Mad Fang. True to a name that meant crazed fangs, the art carried a fierce, driving intent to bury the blade in an opponent's throat.

I'll have to be careful.

Learn a Sensory Sword the wrong way and the blade might end up in your own neck as readily as your enemy's. He would need to approach it with caution.

Raon opened the manual again and started over from the beginning. There might be something he had missed, so he examined every line with painstaking care.

That's strange.

Every time he read it, the back of his neck prickled. This Mad Fang Sword was not purely a Sensory Sword. Something else seemed mixed in, just a little.

I don't know what it is, though.

On the off chance, he studied every illustration and every character in minute detail, but he still could not tell what he was overlooking.

"Well. I got something good either way."

Once he reached Habun Castle, he would be swinging a sword as naturally as breathing. If he fought there, he might well complete the Mad Fang Sword.

Starting with the stance.

Raon set the manual on the floor and stood. He took up his sword and worked through the Mad Fang Sword's basic postures one by one, exactly as he had seen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them in the book.

Whatever the sword art, the foundation mattered most. Application only became possible once the basic stances were complete. The simpler a Sensory Sword's forms, the more those basics counted.

Raon practiced against the open manual until the postures were perfect, then sheathed his sword.

Stance in place, it was time for live combat. There was no point in trying to master a Sensory Sword alone.

Live combat, huh...

Raon tapped the sword at his hip and smiled.

"Sparring with those guys after so long wouldn't be so bad."

The next day.

Raon finished his dawn cultivation and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠headed for the Fifth Training Ground. The grounds were empty.

He was loosening up, working through the Mad Fang Sword's stances and incantations from the day before, when the training ground door opened and Burren walked in.

"I thought I was the first one here..."

Burren frowned, then started warming up. Training was voluntary, so even as time passed almost no one else arrived.

Once Raon had the Mad Fang Sword's basic stances properly refined, he glanced over at Burren. The other boy was drilling a sword art Raon had never seen — so he had picked up something new as well.

Raon watched the practice for a moment, then went back to his own. Perhaps two hours had gone by when the training ground door was shoved open with a bang. Rimer strolled in with his hands clasped behind his back.

"You two never change."

The yawn, the lazy swagger — he looked every bit the unemployed slacker. Only the area around his left eye was slightly darkened. It looked like a bruise.

Did he get beaten at the gambling den?

"I'm going to sleep, so if anything comes up..."

As he headed for the head instructor's office, Raon stepped into his path.

"Would you oversee a spar, Instructor?"

"A spar? With who?"

Rimer turned his head, searching for the other party. No one raised a hand.

"I'll go with Burren."

"Huh? Me?"

Startled, Burren rounded his eyes as wide as a full moon.

"All of a sudden?"

"You don't want to?"

"Ah — no! That's not it!"

Burren shook his head in a hurry.

"I'll do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it! I mean — I will!"

I can't miss this.

He had not fought Raon once since the beating he had taken in the temporary trainee examination. He knew the other boy was strong. He still wanted to face him, just once.

"Hmm. What a pain."

Rimer scratched his cheek and frowned.

"Instructor."

"Aigoo, fine. Get ready."

"Yes!"

Burren nodded and ran to the center of the training ground.

"You're not going?"

"Instructor. If it looks like I might hurt Burren, please stop me."

"Stop you?"

"Yes."

That was exactly why he had not asked Burren for a spar until Rimer arrived. A Sensory Sword was difficult to control. A single mistake could leave Burren badly wounded.

"Ah, this is such a hassle..."

"Please."

Raon bowed and headed for the makeshift sparring area. Rimer could grumble all he liked — he was still the kind of man who would step in for certain.

Raon took up an unsharpened training sword and faced Burren. The trainees who had been practicing all drew back to watch the two of them.

"Aigoo. The spar — huu — begins."

Rimer made it painfully obvious he did not want to be doing this and raised his hand.

"No vicious killing techniques. Swing your swords for the sake of growth."

"Yes!"

"Yes."

"Anything to say to each other?"

He flicked his fingers as if to say hurry it up.

"I'll be using a new sword art. It could be dangerous, so be careful."

"I'll use what I've already learned. Today will be different from last time."

Raon had named a new art. Burren had declared he would use the one he already knew.

"Good enough? Then begin!"

Rimer dropped his hand on the word, and Burren and Raon kicked off the ground at the same instant.

Burren's teeth clenched with a grind.

This is my chance.

Ever since his defeat, he had dreamed of sparring Raon every single day. The other boy's growth had been dazzling — but Burren had been working without end as well. He would not lose as pathetically as last time.

"Hyaaaaah!"

Burren did not use the new sword art he had learned. He used the Kirin Swordsmanship from the direct descendant training.

Whoooosh!

Speed gathered in a blade packed with the will to win. The edge reached Raon's brow in a heartbeat.

Huh?

Burren's eyes flew wide. Before his own sword could touch Raon, the other blade shot up like a thunderbolt.

CLAAANG!

A violent shock erupted, and both swords' trajectories twisted at once.

"Ugh..."

Burren retreated fast, biting his lip.

He came out first?

Raon had always fought by reading his opponent first, then moving. Attacking first was something Burren had never accounted for.

"Fine! I'll take it!"

The instant Burren recovered his driven-back sword, Raon stamped the ground and charged. Toward the blade crashing down on a diagonal, Burren unfolded the second form of Kirin Swordsmanship.

CLAAANG!

The tremendous force in Raon's sword set Burren's hands trembling. What unsettled him, though, was not the power.

It was Raon's savage momentum. A ferocity that did not belong to the boy Burren had known until now sent a chill crawling up his spine.

CLANG! CLANG-CLANG!

Burren gritted his teeth as he weathered the storm of Raon's strikes.

I didn't train this hard just to lose like this!

He hauled up every last drop of aura. Rotation born in his lower body ran all the way into the sword in his hand, and he unleashed it.

"Huu..."

Raon did not give ground. Wrapped in even wilder momentum, he charged straight into Binding Kill.

CLANG! CLANG!

He brought his sword down in a relentless succession and tore Binding Kill apart. It looked exactly like a beast ripping prey apart with its fangs.

But Raon's blade was not satisfied even after devouring that prey. It raced toward Burren, hungry for something larger to chew.

"Nngh!"

Burren ground his teeth. He dropped his center of gravity and thrust, packing the keenness of wind into the edge.

RUMMMMMBLE!

He fired the strongest strike he could currently produce — and Raon's sword carved through it wearing a savagery greater still.

CRAAACK!

The vicious momentum in Raon's blade tore Burren's final strike apart far too easily.

W-what is that sword?!

Burren's jaw dropped. Raon's blade was a viper that hunted only the gaps in his swordsmanship — fast, persistent, and strong. There was nowhere to run.

"Nngh!"

Burren tried to swing in a panic, but Raon's sword was faster. Sword-light flashed in front of his eyes. The blade came rushing right up to his nose.

Not yet!

In the past he would have shut his eyes. The Burren of now was different. He wrenched his body aside with everything he had and fell back. Raon's sword chased as if it had expected exactly that — like a living beast.

CLANG!

Raon's blade punched through the hastily thrown form and raced for Burren's throat. The momentum never slackened. It had no intention of stopping.

T-this lunatic! This is a spar!

Just as Burren screamed inside his own head, a blue wind rose.

KRAAAANG!

A harsh metallic shriek rang out, and Raon was sent flying far back.

"Ehh..."

Rimer stood in front of Burren with a thoroughly put-upon look on his face.

"Hah... thank you."

Raon staggered to his feet and bowed to Rimer.

"Y-you bastard! Were you trying to kill me?!"

Burren pointed at Raon with a trembling finger.

"I told you. I'm not used to the sword yet, so be careful."

"That's just a regular greeting!"

"I meant it."

Raon brushed the dust from his clothes and spoke as if it were nothing.

"This crazy bastard..."

Burren still had not recovered. He was using the vulgar speech he normally hated most.

"Alright, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠done?"

Rimer sheathed his sword and yawned.

"Then I'll go sleep..."

"Not yet."

Raon blocked Rimer's path and shook his head.

"Huh? There's no sparring partner left. Burren doesn't look like he'll go again."

"They're right over there."

He turned and pointed at the trainees who had been watching.

"U-us?"

"Why us?"

The suddenly nominated trainees backed away.

"I'm supposed to be the head trainee, but I've paid all of you far too little attention. It would be good to check your skills before we depart."

"No, I..."

"Huh? Huhh?"

"W-wait! I have something at the dorm—"

"I reject your rejection. Let's start with you, Crain."

Raon rejected their rejections and dragged over the most convenient target — Crain.

"W-wait, are you serious?"

Crain's lips trembled. After showing a sword art that savage, now he wanted to fight? He had to be insane.

"S-someone help! Lord Burren!"

"Mmm..."

Crain pleaded for rescue, but Burren turned his head and pretended not to notice.

"Instructor?"

"Well, it's a bit of a hassle for me, but facing a sword art like that will definitely improve your skills."

Rimer shoved Crain in the back, telling him to hurry up if he was going to do it.

"Don't worry. The instructor will stop things if it gets dangerous."

Raon smiled and drew his sword.

"Here I come."

"AAAAAAAH!"

That day, the trainees' screams rang without end through the Fifth Training Ground.

"Tsk."

Raon sat on the edge of the training ground and clicked his tongue. The wide grounds were empty. He was the only one left, all alone.

"It's getting hard to even find a spar."

For two weeks he had come to the training ground and sparred the trainees without a break. He had thought it a neat two-birds plan — raise their skills and his achievement in the Mad Fang Sword at the same time. Apparently that had been his thinking alone.

Two weeks later, no one would face him anymore.

Burren stopped coming after seven spars. Marta, after losing ten times, screamed "Fuuuuuck!" and vanished. And Runaan was watching him with her face half-hidden in the crack of the training ground door.

"You're not sparring anymore?"

Judging by the way she asked, the shock must have been considerable.

"I'm not."

When he nodded, Runaan came into the training ground. She trotted over and sat down beside him.

"Hah..."

Raon shook his head.

Sparring the trainees is a lost cause too.

They were afraid, yes — but the gap in skill had grown too wide for it to mean anything anymore.

Still. I learned something.

Sparring the trainees had taught him the nature of the Mad Fang Sword.

A savage wolf.

The Mad Fang Sword was a terrifying art that dug into wherever an opponent's swordsmanship lost its flow or showed a weakness, and then persistently tore that opening apart. The trainees feared that instinct for finding weaknesses even more than the art's savagery itself.

Of course, Burren and Marta would come back whenever they started to forget, charge in again, and then run away.

But...

Raon glanced at Runaan sitting beside him. Unlike Burren or Marta, she had not asked for another fight after a single spar. No — she seemed uncomfortable with the very idea of fighting him.

"Runaan."

"Hm?"

"Want to spa—"

Before he could even finish the word, Runaan slid away. She displayed the miraculous feat of using footwork with her rear still planted on the chair.

"I'm not. I won't."

The moment he said he would not, Runaan stuck herself back to his side.

It's because of Siria.

Siria Sullion. Because of that lunatic, Runaan did not want to fight — even as a spar — with people she was close to.

"This King would gladly face you through the night. Of course, a wretch like you would be crushed to death beneath This King's little finger."

You'd face me?

"Indeed. Surrender the body. This King shall fashion a mental world and—"

Denied.

"Y-you insolent brat! This King was being sincere—"

Raon flicked his hand and sent Wrath flying. The creature spat curses as it drifted off on the wind, but Raon ignored it. It would be back soon enough anyway.

"Hah..."

Raon let out a sigh.

That aside, how am I supposed to train now.

He was wondering how to raise his achievement in the Mad Fang Sword when the training ground door slammed open.

"Hey! I can hear you sighing all the way in my room!"

It was Rimer. He scratched his head as he walked over and planted himself in front of Raon.

"No sparring partner, right?"

"Yes. They all ran away."

"Well then..."

He grinned and pointed a finger at himself.

"Spar with me."