Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Tournament
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“Gaaahhh!!”
Everyone stared blankly at the scene unfolding before them.
Torn clutching his shoulder and howling in pain. Do-yoon indifferently flicking the blood from his sword. And lying on the ground in front of them, a thick severed arm.
“Whoa...”
“C-Crazy...”
Do-yoon had sliced off the arm of Torn, who had lunged at him.
The instructor snapped back to his senses and shouted at Do-yoon.
“Han Do-yoon! What the hell do you think you're—”
“It was self-defense.”
A low, heavy voice laced with a hint of mana. The instructor unwittingly shut his mouth at Do-yoon's utterly confident and nonchalant demeanor.
‘What kind of cadet has eyes like that...’
He felt his breath catch under the weight of Do-yoon's emotionless gaze.
Though the instructor surely held the advantage in raw power, he couldn't muster the courage to challenge that overwhelming presence.
Another instructor nearby spoke up in his place.
“B-But even if he wasn't a cadet, the instructors would have stopped him...”
Even this one spoke in a somewhat subdued tone, as if sensing something from Do-yoon.
“I'm sorry. He scared me too much.”
“Pardon?”
“His face was terrifying. I felt my life was in danger, and my hand moved on its own.”
There wasn't the slightest hint of fear in his voice—only a touch of annoyance. No one there believed he was sincere.
“Ah... I-I see...”
Everyone knew Do-yoon's words were mere wordplay. But there was no solid ground to rebuke him. His actions had clearly been self-defense.
‘Cold-blooded. And his snap judgment is top-notch too. That's the seasoned sharpness of someone who's survived countless power struggles.’
‘A level of skill and cunning beyond his years... No matter how you look at it, he doesn't seem like some Earthling. More like a young master who clawed his way out of a prestigious martial clan from some cultivation world.’
After witnessing the recent commotion, the instructors who had doubted their own eyes during Do-yoon's match were now convinced. He had indeed overcome his mana handicap. He had clearly used mana just now.
The situation was quickly resolved under the dean's direction. Torn was carted off to the infirmary, and the remaining matches proceeded.
Do-yoon only had one more match after that: the finals. His next two bouts had been canceled due to forfeits. Coincidentally, both opponents had witnessed Do-yoon's match firsthand.
Fortunately, he never faced Sophie. With the tournament selecting four winners total, she and Do-yoon had been placed in different brackets.
Instead, he met Debussy in the finals.
“Talk about rotten luck.”
Do-yoon let out a smirk at Debussy's grumbling.
The cadets clicked their tongues in amazement at the sight.
The vampire race was infamous for their aloof and haughty nature. Yet Debussy, of that very race, showed a friendly side only to Do-yoon.
“Try not to cut my arm in a way that hurts too much. That cow's screams looked like they really stung.”
“I'll make it pretty.”
Though he said that, Do-yoon naturally didn't go as harshly on him as he had with Torn. He swung his sword with the casual feel of someone just enjoying the motion after a long time, matching Debussy's pace.
Even with countless spectators watching, Do-yoon parried Debussy's spear while imparting a bit of guidance. Debussy was a talented individual with both solid character and skill—someone Do-yoon approved of.
Do-yoon met him with Buske Style Swordsmanship. He hoped Debussy would sense something from it.
Do-yoon couldn't exactly teach spear arts, and pointing out fine details in front of everyone would look bad. This seemed like the right amount.
Though Debussy specialized in spearmanship, there was a saying: all styles return to the source. The Sword Emperor's swordsmanship transcended fields, striking at the heart with its profound mystery.
In raw power, the Hecleus Style held the edge, but in refinement and depth, nothing could match the Sword Emperor's.
Hecleus pursued ‘strength,’ while Buske chased the ‘sword’ itself. A depth of technique beyond mere martial might—the essence of martial arts.
Buske Style Swordsmanship was the very quintessence of the sword, forged by history's greatest sword genius over a lifetime.
‘It'll make a better textbook than my own swordsmanship.’
Enoch's swordsmanship was also based on Buske Style. But it had been thoroughly refined for one purpose: slaying the Demon King, balancing efficiency and depth.
His swordsmanship presupposed Localized Acceleration Control, making it impossible for others to replicate.
Thus, for giving these cadets simple pointers, Buske Style was better. Enoch's might be the more powerful overall, but even that paled in depth to Buske's.
Debussy's eyes grew hazy as he blocked the Sword Emperor's techniques. Do-yoon smiled faintly, pleased.
He was immersed in the pinnacle of martial arts, feeling it through his body. He was lost in the sword.
The watching cadets, too—not quite to Debussy's extent—gazed at Do-yoon's swordsmanship with entranced expressions. Even raw beginners ignorant of martial arts were moved by its refinement.
The instructors' faces were especially priceless. With each stroke Do-yoon carved through the air, their eyes and mouths slowly widened at the swordsmanship's subtlety.
‘Don't want anyone recognizing it like last time, so I'll hold back a bit.’
Even the supposedly untransmissible Hecleus Style had been recognized. How much more so for the formally inherited Buske Style?
Thus, Do-yoon showed only fragments of Buske Style—parts absent from this round.
The 18th round, where Enoch defeated the Demon King—the current timeline. The Buske Style Do-yoon displayed now didn't exist in the 18th round. It was from a previous iteration, created by the Sword Emperor then.
Enoch himself assessed that up to the 17th round, he was a step below or equal to the Sword Emperor and Fist Emperor.
But the enlightenment from his 17th-round duel with the Demon King transformed him into a transcendent being. Though he died to the Demon King that round, he triumphed in the very next, the 18th.
This enlightenment greatly influenced those two, especially the Sword Emperor. His swordsmanship in the 18th round had evolved significantly from prior iterations due to Enoch's impact.
What Do-yoon showed now was nonexistent in this world—like the Hecleus Style, impossible for anyone to recognize.
And as the match concluded...
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Skill ‘Swordsmanship’ has been created.] [Skill ‘Buske Style Swordsmanship’ has been created.] [‘Buske Style Swordsmanship’ is integrated into the superior skill ‘Swordsmanship’.] A modest bonus in the form of skill creation.
‘Unlike Javelin Throw, techniques from my past life turn into skills so easily.’
The tournament ended. The four winners were mostly as expected.
One was a hardworking talent on par with Debussy. The others were Do-yoon, Sophie, and the top contender in hand-to-hand combat they had been tied with.
“Congratulations on your win...!”
Sophie celebrated Do-yoon's victory as if it were her own.
Despite his stunning performance in the qualifiers that exceeded all expectations, Do-yoon had long been considered out of reach for tournament victory due to his mana handicap.
Sophie seemed genuinely thrilled that he had claimed the top spot.
“Congratulations to you too, Cadet Sophie. I figured you'd win if you were competing.”
“Th-Thank you.”
Sophie blushed faintly at Do-yoon's praise and flashed a bright smile. Inside her shoes, her toes curled tight. Her thighs unconsciously clenched together.
She was happy about Do-yoon's win itself, but even more so that they had triumphed side by side.
Suppressing a grin that kept creeping onto her face, Sophie chatted with Do-yoon.
And then, the dean approached the pair.
“Cadet Han Do-yoon. Cadet Sophie.”
At the dean's call, the two turned. In his hands were two small wooden boxes—the prizes, elixirs from the tournament.
There was no grand ceremony. Though a major event, the tournament was mere formality; its true purpose was evaluation.
The other winners had already received their prizes and left. Do-yoon and Sophie's matches had ended latest, leaving just the two.
He could feel the instructors' burning gazes from around them. The dean already felt a headache coming on.
‘Now the real trouble begins...’
Do-yoon had revealed his mana talent and astonishing swordsmanship mastery before everyone.
By tomorrow, everyone in the Cradle would know he was the Boss Monster Killer.
As soon as the day's schedule ended, guild masters would be informed. With a clear target identified, the pressure would ramp up overtly.
The dean saw a bleak road ahead.
‘Still... it's a relief.’
Do-yoon had forged his own path, shaking off the mana handicap. He had proven his talent before all.
Achieved through his own efforts, without anyone's help.
The dean felt deeply satisfied watching this talent grow.
The Cradle's founding purpose, the System's creation, the Alliance's long-cherished goal: subjugating the Demon King.
This proud talent would surely play a major role in achieving that great undertaking one day.
“These are the prizes for the winners. Take them.”
The wooden boxes were handed to Do-yoon and Sophie.
They opened the lids. A sharp, refreshing herbal scent assaulted their noses. Inside was a single small, compacted pill.
‘This is...’
Do-yoon felt a sense of familiarity from its aroma and appearance.
“This elixir is called the ‘Vitality Pill,’ renowned for its outstanding effects in enhancing bodily regeneration...”
Do-yoon tuned out the dean's explanation. No matter how well the dean knew this elixir, he couldn't match Do-yoon's knowledge.
‘It's been a while.’
He'd consumed plenty of these in the past.
Do-yoon inhaled deeply, savoring the nostalgic scent.
The Vitality Pill. This elixir was...
“About a century ago, it was invented and popularized by the chief alchemist in Great Hero Enoch's guild...”
The alchemist, a comrade of Enoch. She had created it for him.