Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Imitation
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I couldn't afford to look pathetic, not with so many female students watching.
"Are you ready?"
Unlike a moment ago, the instructor's movements were incredibly brisk.
It made sense. Evaluating all these students would take the entire day.
The leisurely preparation time must have been a small courtesy for the princes.
Or maybe he just didn't like me and wanted to crush me quickly.
*'Judging by the look in his eyes, the latter seems more likely.'*
The instructor raised his sword and immediately shouted the signal to begin.
"Begin the match."
*Whoosh!*
He followed instantly with a sword strike.
*'Damn it!'*
Screaming internally, I swiftly swung my sword horizontally.
The attack, coming right from the start, was incredibly sharp.
*Clang!*
A series of clashing sounds echoed as a heavy impact vibrated up my arm.
But I, too, was forged through relentless training.
Even without using aura, I could easily block an attack of this level.
The problem came after I parried his sword.
*'But what should I use?'*
I couldn't use the Riverune swordsmanship or the Rantzverger assassination arts here.
No matter how basic the Single-Star Flowing Sword was, it still had its own distinct movements.
The moment I used it, some of them would surely recognize it.
Especially the direct descendants of the four great families or the imperial knights—they couldn't possibly not know.
As I pondered my next move, the instructor's sword shifted strangely and lunged at me.
*Thwang!*
I created an opening by striking the flat of his blade, then stepped back quickly.
Then, I took a moment to catch my breath.
Pushed back by my unexpected strength, my opponent narrowed his eyes and glanced down at his training sword.
The deliberately blunted edge bore a rather deep scar.
It was a sign of just how powerful my rough counterattack had been.
*'That was close. That was almost a move from the Silent Flowing Sword.'*
While the instructor inspected his sword, I let out a silent sigh of relief.
I had barely managed to suppress the follow-up move.
The Silent Flowing Sword—my own secret technique, born from the fusion of the Single-Star Flowing Sword and the Silent Assassination Arts.
With aura, it would become a completely different style, but for now, it was barely distinguishable from the original Single-Star Flowing Sword.
Even if I hid its characteristics, I couldn't completely eliminate the fundamental movements.
As I continued to ponder, my opponent's swordsmanship suddenly caught my eye.
*'Come to think of it, all the instructors are using the same style.'*
Even if they belonged to the same knight order, their styles were bound to differ slightly.
But the instructors adhered to nearly identical movements, as if measured with a ruler.
The moment that scene registered in my mind, I had a sudden realization.
*'That's the swordsmanship the students will be learning.'*
There was no other reason for them to display it so deliberately.
Facing my opponent who had closed the distance, I gave a confident smile.
*Clang!*
The moment we clashed, two distinct sounds of impact rang out.
The instructor's style, which involved pushing and prodding, had been producing these kinds of sounds all along.
But this time was different.
A much louder noise erupted, and both our swords were pushed back.
His eyes widening, my opponent narrowed his brow and stared intently at me.
Given the skill gap between an instructor and a student, he should have been able to break the flow of my swordsmanship.
But far from a rhythmic strike, he was the one who had failed to properly execute his own technique.
*'Heh. Come on, try me.'*
Just like the third prince had done, I beckoned with my sword as if it were a fishing rod.
My opponent's brow furrowed even more intensely.
A prince could get away with it due to his lofty status, but a taunt from a mere sponsored student?
He was probably even more pissed off than when I'd ignored his call.
But for someone so angry, the instructor's movements were remarkably calm.
He started his form from the beginning, pressing me step by step.
Of course, the power behind his strikes was much stronger than before.
*Claaang—!*
"Hah!"
But at the subsequent clash, my opponent let out a bewildered scoff.
Once again, the flow was broken so completely that he couldn't execute his follow-up move.
The instructor uncharacteristically stopped his attack and asked me a question.
"Don't tell me you're copying me."
"I haven't learned anything else."
"..."
I cast a deliberate glance around us.
The other groups were also in the middle of their matches.
Naturally, the same swordsmanship was being displayed over and over.
Seemingly understanding the meaning of my gaze, my opponent nodded slowly.
"Fine. Let's continue."
"By all means."
The instructor readjusted his grip on the training sword, taking a stance with the hilt pressed firmly against the right side of his chest.
It was a completely different movement from before.
This was likely his original style of swordsmanship.
*Thud!*
Stomping hard on the ground, the instructor closed the distance with incredible speed.
Aggressive footwork followed by a powerful swing.
It seemed he favored an overwhelming style of swordsmanship using a greatsword.
The training sword was as light as an arming sword, but his momentum was nothing short of ferocious.
*Clang!*
But the strike, which looked like it would split my torso in two, was deflected in an unexpected direction.
*'Not a chance. Nope!'*
I had used the snap of my wrist to deliver a series of blows against the flat of his blade.
Naturally, the instructor's follow-up move failed to connect this time as well.
"To do it again... What in the world is this...?"
My opponent stared at me with a look of disbelief.
He must have been testing whether I could copy him in a different situation.
But since I'd pulled it off splendidly, it was no wonder his composure was shattered.
Besides, hadn't I just declared that I'd never learned any other swordsmanship?
*'Sorry, but I have quite a bit of experience with the sword.'*
The instructors' swordsmanship was clearly of a very high caliber.
But when they kept demonstrating the same moves, how could I, someone who has trained with the sword for decades, not be able to replicate them?
When I shrugged, my opponent glanced away.
I also naturally looked to my right, where Professor Hoth was standing.
Erich Hoth, who seemed to have been watching our group closely for some time, gave a slow, deliberate nod.
It seemed he had given the instructor a silent command.
*'What is he trying to do? Can't we just end this reasonably?'*
Contrary to my wishes, my opponent re-engaged in the match, his movements growing more and more intense.
He was using every trick in the book to prevent me from properly executing the swordsmanship.
The tactic of feigning a clash only to subtly adjust the distance was particularly annoying.
This style was only effective when you struck the side of the opponent's blade while your own was in contact with it.
Moreover, I didn't know anything beyond the first move.
*'Wow! This is ridiculously cheap, isn't it?'*
Since I didn't know how to follow up with an offensive, I couldn't counter his techniques.
It was plain to see, yet I couldn't strike back. The frustration was maddening.
In the end, I had no choice but to resort to my final option.
*'So you're going to play like that, huh? Fine. How about this?'*
*Swish!*
The thrust that had been aiming for his blade, pushing it aside, suddenly shot straight forward.
Startled, the instructor hurriedly raised his arms.
He intended to block the strike rushing toward his neck with a cross guard.
But the change in my sword's path didn't end there.
*Ssk.*
The sword, which should have struck his blade to break the flow, unexpectedly hit empty air.
But with this one move, the instructor's defense became useless.
The sharply angled tip of my blade dropped, aiming for his collarbone.
My training sword slipped precariously through the gap created by his cross guard and wrist.
If I just pushed the sword straight through, I could even reach his heart.
Amazingly, my attack was perfectly aligned to pierce the seam between his pauldron and breastplate.
*'This is far enough.'*
*Whirl! Thud!*
But, at the critical moment,
I let go of the hilt, pretending it was a mistake.
The training sword grazed the instructor's leather armor, fell past his side, and stuck into the ground.
"My hand slipped."
"..."
As I spoke, unnecessarily showing him my open right hand, his face momentarily flushed red.
He, too, had realized it.
If that last strike had landed properly, the match would have ended right then and there.
But on the surface, the outcome was the instructor's victory.
Of course, victory or defeat didn't matter in a session meant to evaluate the students' swordsmanship.
Still, he had his pride to consider.
"...Good work. Next."
* * *
"Did you see that? That was one hell of a move!"
"If his hand hadn't slipped at the end, he would have won for sure. Don't you think?"
"The training swords must have slippery grips. Look at this. The texture of the leather is terrible."
"You're right. He would've won with a proper weapon. But who is that guy?"
The students buzzed with excitement over the unexpectedly brilliant match.
The recent clash was so incredible that it completely overshadowed the princes' matches.
The children of noble families, who had trained in swordsmanship since they were young, were particularly excited.
They knew very well how high-skilled the Venderford instructors were.
To defeat such a strong opponent right after enrolling?
He was, for all intents and purposes, a talent that had to be recruited.
The second prince, his expression stiff, glanced to the side and spoke.
"Who is that man? Boris."
In response, a student with round glasses took out a notebook and muttered.
"Name, Ray. Only son of a merchant active in the Four-Part Sector. Lived a nomadic life since childhood, said to have never learned swordsmanship."
"A sponsored student, you mean."
"Yep."
Amazingly, Boris had a detailed file on every student.
Despite it being only the first day of school, he had already gathered a significant amount of information.
Though he came from a minor family, it was precisely this outstanding information-gathering ability that allowed him to become one of Frantz's confidants.
Glancing toward the third prince, the second prince fell into deep thought.
Ellington, too, was staring intently at the student who had nearly defeated the instructor.
But he couldn't just recruit anyone, no matter how skilled they were.
If he carelessly accepted retainers, discontent would explode from within his circle, so it was natural to be cautious.
Ellington's eyeing of the talented individual made Frantz increasingly uneasy.
"Put him on hold for now. Keep an eye on him."
"Understood. I will add him to the close surveillance list."
It wasn't just the princes who were focused on Ray's performance.
Professor Hoth, who had been scanning the entire training ground, was also watching him closely.
Especially that final strike, the one that dropped toward the heart.
Erich Hoth was completely captivated by it.
"He... analyzed the swordsmanship?"