23 – Student Battle, Finals 1
Yukito wasn’t the only person who was confused.
To be precise, the whole arena was.
There had been rumors. That the Sword Saint might come to see the tournament.
If one could just catch a glimpse of him, they would be able to boast about it to their neighbors.
And so his actual arrival had quite an effect, which soon turned to great excitement.
It was the same for the fighters as well.
“We keep meeting some crazy people after coming here…”
Sigurd thought with a smile as he inspected his sword while waiting.
The day before yesterday, it was the Gold Lion. And now he had met two living legends in a row.
Perhaps the strong really did call out the strong?
In any case, this was a day that would be remembered by all.
(Of course, I will just do things as I always do them.)
Stay calm. One of the things Yukito had taught them thoroughly.
When fighting, the most important thing was your heart. If you lose your calm, then you will die.
“However… My opponent, huh?”
He mused as he stepped foot into the arena.
The uniform was familiar. The Imperial University. Though, he did not know the students that were competing in the Sword Arts Division… But it was clear that they would be very skilled.
In fact, his opponent was currently smiling confidently.
“Huh. Viskinel. Well, at least make this entertaining, alright?”
He believed without a doubt that this would be an easy victory for him.
Sigurd almost laughed, but kept it together. Laughing at a place like this might have some grave consequences later.
He exhaled…and just as he heard the signal.
He stepped forward.
“Wha…!”
He had moved like lightning, and the boy’s face contorted with surprise.
A flash.
Unleashed as if to cut off his head…but it went through empty air.
He had jumped away and dodged it.
He exhaled and held up his sword, but…
(What the…!)
He was overwhelmed by the intensity of Sigurd’s eyes, as he held the blade in front of him.
The intent to kill.
Calm, and cold. As if asking him how he wished to die.
Swords were weapons. Once they were drawn, it was a murderous battlefield, where you chipped away at the other’s life.
—Sigurd had been influenced by Yukito the most.
The sword style of Marquis Yugnor was influenced by the Osman style, which was born on the battlefield. And they had developed it on their own from there. To the point where some judged them for a lack of constancy. They stole, incorporated and always evolved.
And after meeting Yukito, the sword of Sigurd turned into a monster.
At this point, he had surpassed even Iria. He was the strongest sword fighter of the Viskinel Academy.
“Let’s go.”
In other words.
He had surpassed the level of mere students.
◆ ◇ ◆
The Combat Technique Tournament, Spear Arts Division.
The third battle, and an unexpected encounter.
“Ah, it’s the crybaby.”
Stan Rogweld held his spear and laughed at the short boy—Leo, who was in front of him.
A clear provocation. And yet Leo did not react, which caused his opponent to click his tongue with irritation.
Stan Rogweld was a problematic student among those from the Imperial University. Tormenting those who were weaker was his hobby Unfortunately, he was incredibly capable as well.
As his conduct reflected poorly on the empire, he had been warned many times, to no avail. Roy was the only person he listened to. But he didn’t care about the others.
He was talented enough to get away with it.
Overwhelming power to make others yield.
And today should be no different.
Stan snorted roughly and raised his spear.
Valfios. A great spear that had been passed on for generations.
“Begin!”
“Die…!”
The signal, and then a thrust with the force of a typhoon.
Incredible speed. The attack was ideal thrust form.
However…
Leo stepped to the side, dodging it lightly.
“Too slow…!”
He pulled the spear back and swung to the side. Swinging horizontally was the basics of a spear. As there was a blade on the tip, those who were not used to it tended to focus on that part.
But reality was different. The shaft was a weapon as well. Reinforced with an iron core. A blow from it could be fatal.
Well, if it accelerated enough.
“Wha…!”
The hand gripped the shaft.
Leo had stepped forward and grabbed it before it could accelerate enough.
It was such an elementary mistake, that Stan immediately pulled back, allowing Leo to close in even more.
“What…!?”
Stan felt the impact through his entire body.
A shoulder tackle with full force. It knocked Stan off of his feet, and the spear left his hands.
(N-no…!)
He had lost his spear. His defeat was certain.
However…
The spear then rolled right in front of him. Valfios.
“Hey, now. Don’t lose so quickly. I haven’t even used my spear yet.”
Leo said with a look of annoyance.
“Y-you…!”
He was blind with rage as he picked up his spear and got up.
But…
“…Bastard. I’ll make you cry so hard that you will never laugh again.”
Leo unleashed a thrust.
It seemed like nothing as he blocked it… But in the next instant, the spear was in front of Stan’s eyes.
(!?)
Once again, he was stunned.
Thrust, block, thrust, block, thrust, thrust, block, thrust, thrust, thrust…!
He did not even have time to catch his breath.
He could not even counter against the chain of attacks. It wasn’t that the thrusts were fast. It was that he pulled back at an unbelievable speed.
And every attack had such weight. They pushed Stan with precision.
Leo was a genius. Which meant he didn’t always try very hard. For him, techniques were something flashy. Special attacks. That was what he wanted to learn from Yukito at first.
However, Yukito had just made him repeat the basics, thousands of times a day.
The basics would lead to advanced techniques. It was the same with any weapon. Leo realized it during the past few months.
Just thrusting. There was a reason for it. How deep the basics were. As he repeated then, Leo was taken in by principle. It helped that he had Yukito as an example. A sword that had done the same, and gone far ahead. Like a lantern in the distance.
“Shiiiiittt…!”
Thrust. That was all it was. And yet Stan was being pushed back. He howled angrily.
He had had everything. Talent, money, authority, women. With one exception, he had never been defeated like this before.
And it was all crumbling now.
Still—the howl did not change anything about the situation.
He really is a good mentor which means the one who taught him was excellent too