Chapter 63
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: No Sword Was Needed
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Every single cell in my body prickled with electric warnings.
'Hmph.'
If I so much as twitched, Steron's sword—still sheathed—would come slashing toward me in an instant.
'Tch.'
Even though Steron hadn't moved a muscle, the spots on my body sensing the threat kept shifting by the second.
From my throat to my armpit, from my side to between my eyes, from my thigh to my solar plexus.
'You're done for, buddy.'
Every time his implied strike changed, I made subtle adjustments to my stance.
Shifting my foot by the width of a finger, relaxing my shoulder to let my elbow and wrist rise slightly.
What was that hng-chit-pung thing again?
The realm of sparring without clashing swords...
Ah, I think I already mentioned that.
The fog in my head was thickening.
Anyway!
This was a clash of sword intents on a far higher level than my bout with Fred.
How many imaginary exchanges did we run through while keeping our breaths steady and even?
Steron let out a light sigh.
"Roginin. Lend me your sword."
Oh, he's asking to borrow it.
Look at this guy.
His tone's changed.
That sealed it.
Steron's outrageous behavior wasn't some twisted personality quirk—it was a test for me.
Still, the displeasure lingered.
Not toward Steron or Roginin, but someone else.
Asparens must have put him up to it. To check if I'm a suitable vessel for Luke's body.
Sly old bastards. So annoying.
I decided to acknowledge Steron's pure desire, too.
'He wants to cross swords with me.'
How curious must he be?
With the captain vanished and some weirdo showing up pretending to be a Holy Knight.
I figured Roginin's sword would come flying over at Steron's request.
But Roginin walked over with steady steps.
"Here you are."
He offered his sword politely with both hands.
It was a demeanor that gave a glimpse of just how revered Luke's position was among them.
In that moment, I became not Kalruk, but Luke, responding to Roginin accordingly.
Meaning I left my reaction to Luke's temperament.
Just a nod.
Perfect. So that's how Luke greeted his subordinates.
"Chaa-!"
The instant Roginin stepped back, Steron drew and launched himself forward.
Covering nearly ten paces in a single bound.
'Impressive speed. But to my eyes? Slow.'
I dodged Steron's blade while drawing the sword I'd received from Roginin.
'Nice sword. Well-maintained.'
It was so beautifully crafted, it almost seemed a shame to use it.
Fiore Royal Guard, was it? Or Personal Guard?
Far sturdier and better balanced than the shattered swords of that adjutant and commander.
"Chwaa-! Huta-!"
Man, that guy's noisy as hell.
His constant kiais were making my eardrums throb.
I twisted my waist and shifted my feet half-steps at a time to evade Steron's sword, focusing not on my vision but something else.
'Over-relying on Blue Eye won't make me grow.'
I switched off Blue Eye and trusted my senses instead.
Partly because I'd grown so much stronger that Steron seemed weaker by comparison, but also because Blue Eye's predictions weren't absolute.
"Ek-."
Like this.
I slipped away leisurely, almost limply, though close calls popped up now and then.
"Ek-."
I leaped aside once more.
After twisting my waist to dodge a side attack, Steron's sword curved in like a snake in a split second.
If I'd relied solely on Blue Eye's warning, my leg would've been sliced open.
"Steron. You're a fine swordsman. I admit it."
I stepped back two paces and gave a few sarcastic claps.
It'd be nice if he'd leave now that I'd applauded.
Fat chance, right?
I've gotten smart enough to know that much.
Steron's swordsmanship felt unfamiliar.
Even accounting for the fact that I, who'd lived far removed from swords, had only been handling one for less than two months.
Luke's style was straightforward.
'Dominant.'
Oh, look at me using fancy words.
Top-notch!
Silver Star would've chimed in with some nonsense if she were here.
Damn. It's lonely.
Did Luke feel this lonely too?
Luke with a sword thrust and slashed without mercy.
Leveraging his physical superiority and the cheat-like Divine Power, he ruled through sheer violence even against the fearsome Red Dragon Knights.
'I can't even imitate that. Only the loneliness matches.'
Fred's swordsmanship was just as honest, but it felt more like desperate flailing for survival than overwhelming dominance.
Experience piled up from the weak one's perspective had forged him into a swordsman for staying alive.
'Fred's style doesn't suit me either.'
Steron's was linear yet planar.
Ah, too dense to explain properly.
I pondered while admiring the feast of flashing blades before me.
What forms when lines meet to create planes?
Where had I seen this pattern before?
'Right. A spiderweb.'
Like a tightly woven spiderweb.
Relentless attacks block any advance.
Come closer, and it'll tangle and bind you—that's the threat.
'All fakes.'
Just herding the prey backward.
Prey chased by fake blades inevitably seeks an escape route.
But lurking there is a spider with eight sharp legs.
The real blade aims for the throat from that escape path.
'Turning the escape into a death trap. Fun swordsmanship. Masterfully refined.'
Impressive technique alone wouldn't faze me.
I've got a heart that doesn't scare easy. Ahem.
Steron's strength was his adaptability.
Despite his style having fixed forms, he varied it to fit the situation.
Responding to the opponent's level without stubbornness—that alone made him an exceptional swordsman.
Admirable, yet it sparked doubt.
"Confidence in your skill, or just plain bloodlust?"
Using Divine Power would've boosted not just power but speed.
Yet Steron hadn't touched his Divine Power at all.
"Do you trust raw muscle over intangible energy?"
"You talk too much."
Yeah, I do ramble a bit.
Eh, guilty.
It's a habit from clinging to sanity.
So I'm not ashamed of my chattering.
It's a scar from fighting to survive.
"I meant put some real effort in. Was that too hard to understand?"
"Not hard."
Steron's sword grew fiercer.
As if everything so far had been warm-up.
I didn't yield a single step, holding my ground.
My drug-enhanced legs moved like the wind.
'I'm a whirlwind.'
No wind affinity, but whatever—I'm wind.
If I say I'm wind, I am.
Anyone arguing is a heretic.
'Too tight a web, and it'll tear in the breeze.'
Luke's innate strength and the flexibility I'd gained from relentless training supported my movements.
As I evaded Steron's blade, I recalled the Red Dragon Knights that Luke had fought.
He'd claimed they had pathetic mana, but now? Their mana was outstanding.
Luke just viewed other knights as insignificant from his superior realm.
So what about Steron?
Steron began slowly drawing up his mana.
Infusing the blade while executing techniques—senses far beyond an ordinary warrior.
Like me circulating mana mid-movement. Ahem.
'Still, pure mana-wise, Red Dragon Knights take it.'
What makes Holy Knights special is Divine Power layered atop strength and mana.
Steron's cloak fluttered as he pulled out all his mana, light beginning to radiate from his body.
Not just for show.
Divine Burst.
A Hellite Holy Knight exclusive: instantly amplifying sight, all senses, strength, agility, stamina.
'Finally get to see it.'
The power that makes Holy Knights monsters to foes and objects of awe to warriors.
The foundation allowing Hellite to stand against Draven.
If tens of thousands of Holy Knights unleashed Divine Burst, could the Empire's million-strong army hold?
No way.
The Red Dragon Knights survived thanks to Hellite Holy Knights' no-kill discipline.
Yet I was still dodging Steron's sword with ease, toying with him.
"That look says you can't comprehend it. How a guy like me dodges your sword without mana or Divine Power. Curious, huh?"
I know.
Thanks to elixirs and abilities.
Doping, in other words.
But no reason to spill.
"You know I'm not using any abilities either, right? Oh, didn't notice? Well, notice now."
Showing the skill gap thoroughly—that was this spar's point.
A grinding sound rang out.
Steron gritted his teeth.
His blade targeted my vitals more sharply, more fiercely.
Over a hundred thrusts and dozens of slashes had already flown by.
All in such a brief span.
Dozens of white light trails lingered as afterimages around me.
"You wouldn't be going easy on me, would you? Fake or not, I'm your captain. Slacking gets you chewed out."
"Tait!"
His sword shot straight for my left eye.
I considered leaning back but pivoted on my right foot instead. Leaning would've made the follow-up tricky.
'Who knew I was such a master druggie.'
Steron's blade pierced the air where my eye had been, then seamlessly transitioned into a curving slash toward my throat.
I stepped inside his guard, trapping his right arm in my left armpit.
Not stopping there, I wrapped my left arm fully around his.
One firm extension, and his elbow joint shatters.
"Squirm if you want. If you're fine with a broken or torn arm."
I held the sword in my right hand; Steron's left was empty.
He aimed a fist at my throat with his left.
I raised my elbow to block his wrist.
Tossed Roginin's sword back to its owner.
In that brief instant, I understood the question in Roginin's eyes beneath his helmet.
Why not use the sword?
Right—I hadn't once clashed blades with Steron.
"I saw your swordsmanship up close, Steron. Plenty to learn from. Linear yet elastic. Masterfully uses softness to conquer hardness."
Of course, between Steron and me, mine's superior.
"But a sword that can't pierce its foe is worse than claws."
To draw out my swordsmanship—puncturing ever-shifting stars, varied by constellations—Steron's display fell short. Specifically, his power backing it.
"Your physical level can't match mine."
And more important than swordsmanship is the body.
"Decent divine realm, but mana cultivation neglected. Can't properly harness the power you have."
I'm Luke.
Luke full of Toolsep.
Luke with the elixir effects kicking in.
I was confident I could surpass them somehow, but I hadn't expected to so effortlessly transcend a silver-grade Holy Knight mid-Divine Burst.
A match is fueled by competitive spirit and anticipation, not certainty of victory.
No need to take hits on purpose.
Conclusion.
So no sword was needed.
"Worried about hurting me, so you didn't go all out?"
Polite inquiry, but helmeted Steron stayed silent.
Just clenched his jaw and swung his fist.
Eeeek-!
Damn, that guy's really giving it his all.