Chapter 17: Swordsman lessonship (3)

Rewinding the clock to just before the two were about to clash.

‘Now, what should I do?’

Sion pondered as she looked at Lancia, who was glaring at her with hostility.

Winning isn’t much of a problem. After all, she is a former Demon Lord, even in her rotten state.

No matter how exceptional Lancia’s talent may be, she is still just a child, so subduing her would be easy. In fact, she could simply defend without attacking at all and let her exhaust herself.

The issue lies not in winning or losing, but elsewhere.

‘If I win, Lancia will give up on Martin. Conversely, if I lose, the charismatic image I have painstakingly built will collapse.’

Whichever choice she made, she would have to suffer a tremendous loss.

At first glance, there seemed to be no way out—a perfect dilemma.

-“Why not just fight to a draw, matching her evenly?”

Exia asked from behind her, where she was perched.

But Sion shook her head.

“No, my victory must be ‘overwhelming.’ Only then can I maintain the image of a hero from above the clouds.”

-“Is that so? Well, then, whatever works,” she replied nonchalantly.

Or perhaps she could persuade Lancia after winning—tell her there’s no need to give up on Martin just because she lost.

“Hmm…”

Sion scrutinized the girl before her.

Her crimson eyes stared straight at her, without the slightest wavering or movement. It was the look of someone singularly obsessed with one thing, possessing an unwavering and steadfast gaze that only those who pour their entire being into a singular pursuit can have.

It was a look that said, no matter what hardship came, she would overcome it.

-“I’m not sure it would work. That type of person rarely listens to others.”

-“Why not?”

-“Because they have their own standards of  judgment and prioritize choices made from those over external approval. To a certain extent, Gareum was like that, wasn’t he?”

-“Ah…”

When she brought up their old comrade as an example, Exia immediately agreed. She, too, had dealt with the stubborn dwarf’s obstinacy more than a few times.

-“Within her mind, she has likely already decided, ‘If I lose to the hero, I have no right to stand by the prince’s side.’

It’s a martial-centric way of thinking that those who stake their lives on martial arts often fall into.”

-“Why think that way…?”

-“Who knows? Maybe it’s a kind of inferiority complex.”

Sion muttered with a sigh, as if the thought gave her a headacshe.

If you think about it rationally, it’s a completely absurd notion.

Martin didn’t fall in love with Sion because she was strong (truthfully, even Sion herself doesn’t know the exact reason). Therefore, whether she wins or loses the duel, it fundamentally holds no meaning.

If thought about logically and reasonably, one could see that.

That’s why zealots are such a headache.

…But.

Sion thought as she looked at Lancia.

-“On the other hand, that very aspect might also be a breakthrough.”

-“Sorry?”

Exia tilted her head.

-“What do you mean by a breakthrough? Have you come up with a good idea?”

-“For now, yes.”

No matter how unaware one is, a contradiction is still a contradiction. Point it out, and it can be shattered. The premise of the dilemma can be dismantled.

Of course, people like her won’t listen just through words. So, you have to teach them using the language of combat, guiding them naturally to reach that conclusion on their own.

At that moment, the ‘third path’ began to take shape in Sion’s mind.

A plan C that would protect her image while also preventing Lancia from making a rash decision.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

At Lancia’s question, Sion raised her sword.

She couldn’t rush it. First, she had to play sincerely at her level.

Then, when the right moment came, she would strike.

“Then… here I come!”

Lancia crouched down, then kicked off the ground, charging forward with explosive speed.

‘Oh?’

Sion widened her eyes slightly.

Her speed was beyond her expectations. She knew from the beginning that she would be strong, but not to this extent.

She was a much more promising and solid talent than Sion had imagined.

‘Of course, she’s still no match for me.’

However, her surprise was brief. Sion easily raised her sword to block.

While she may not have reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship like Lier, the strongest swordsman in history, Sion in her previous life was still a swordsman of comparable skill.

She could fend off even five wyverns with one hand without a scratch.

Although Lancia certainly possessed considerable skill, she had drawn a terrible opponent this time.

**Clang!!!**

A dull sound echoed as wood collided with wood.

As Sion parried the sword, Lancia’s expression changed, and she quickly retreated.

“Did you just… block that?” 

“As you can see?.” 

Sion tilted her head slightly, as if she had no idea what she was talking about. Her expression, tone, and every gesture were perfectly calculated to be 100% infuriating to her opponent. 

Seeing her deliberately mocking face, Lancia bit her lip, feeling provoked. 

“You seem quite relaxed. Are you saying this is nothing to you?” 

Well, in truth, it really wasn’t much to her. 

But Sion didn’t bother to reply. 

It wasn’t time yet.

All she had done was block one of her attacks. Until she completely and thoroughly dismantled all of Lancia’s techniques, she wouldn’t consider it the right “timing.” 

So, until then, she remained silent, allowing her opponent to think she was underestimating her. 

Just as she hoped, Lancia ground her teeth and readjusted her grip on her sword. She closed her eyes briefly, seemingly to regain her composure, and then charged at Sion once more. 

“Haaaaaap!!!” 

A storm-like series of relentless attacks followed. 

Unpredictable, ever-changing sword techniques unfolded from the girl’s fingertips, each move lethal enough to either take down or at least subdue her opponent—if they connected, of course. 

-Clang! Clang! Clang!!!

Seeing Sion block all her attacks, Lancia clenched her teeth. It felt as though an invisible barrier surrounded her. 

Meanwhile, Sion thought to herself, 

‘Hmm, I’ll need to revise my assessment upward.’ 

Though she didn’t show it, she was quite surprised inside.

Only a handful of her former subordinates had displayed movements as dazzling as Lancia. Perhaps only the Nightstalker would compare.

And yet, here was a 15-year-old human girl who had reached such a level. 

Achieving this would be impossible without talent that could go down in history and the bone-crushing effort to back it up. 

‘No wonder she takes pride in her martial arts,’ Sion thought with a nod to herself. 

Though she had no intention of becoming one herself, she held a certain level of respect for those who dedicated their entire lives to one field, like ascetics. 

Thus, she didn’t think of criticizing the stubbornness of Gareum or the mindset of Lancia as foolishness in itself. To reach the pinnacle in any field, one must be so focused that they see nothing else. 

Of course, it was a different matter if that mindset caused her any harm. 

“Haa, haa…!” 

After an indeterminate amount of exchanges, Lancia finally seemed exhausted, lowering her sword and stepping back. She stared at Sion with a look of disbelief. 

The fierce aura that had been radiating from her earlier had already diminished somewhat. 

‘Is it time now?’ 

Sion examined Lancia from head to toe. 

Sweat was pouring from her entire body. She let out faint sighs of despair without even realizing it.

Her eyes reflected a mix of frustration and resignation, feeling like no matter what she did, nothing worked. 

Good, now is the moment. 

“Let’s stop this.” 

“!?” 

Lancia’s eyes widened at Sion’s sudden declaration. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Just what it sounds like. Let’s end this.” 

From here, it was crucial.

Sion spoke in a tone as detached and indifferent as possible. 

“It feels like a waste of time now.” 

“…!” 

Lancia’s hand, which held the sword, began to tremble. 

She looked a little pitiful, but there was no other choice. To correct her misconceptions, she had to push forward somewhat forcefully. 

“What… what do you mean by that?” 

“I don’t think you’re so foolish that you don’t already know.” 

Sion cut her off, continuing her words without giving Lancia a moment to think. 

“If you were at your best, maybe things would be different. I might even have to take you seriously. But right now, your sword carries hesitation—a great, dulling hesitation with every strike.” 

“Hesitation…?” 

“Yes.” 

Sion nodded. 

Of course, it was a lie. Hesitation? There was no such thing. 

Sion wasn’t a mind reader.

Sure, she could read thoughts if she used magic, but that was merely a magical effect. She couldn’t read someone’s psychological state just from the way their sword wavered. 

Then why was she so confident in making this statement? 

‘Because she had already shown signs of being like a transcendent.’ 

There’s a term called gaslighting. 

A well-known psychological manipulation technique, it involves repeatedly and exaggeratedly pointing out the target’s trivial mistakes, undermining their self-esteem, and causing them to lose their ability to make rational judgments. 

This way, the target is led to believe that they cannot trust their own judgment and that the abuser’s words are entirely correct.

Sion’s approach wasn’t as malicious as that, but the basic principle was similar.

First, she thoroughly defeats Lancia in the field she is most confident in—martial arts—demonstrating a clear gap in skill.

With that psychological superiority established, she speaks as if she knows everything about her opponent, making a firm declaration.

What would happen then?

Surprisingly, the opponent starts to believe that this “insight” is true, whether it aligns with their feelings or not.

“Do you truly want to defeat me, Lancia? Or do you secretly wish to lose and find relief?”

“…!?”

Lancia trembled, shocked by her words.

Whether that statement was true or not, no one could know. Human emotions are not as neatly defined as a clean cut.

There could have been such a feeling, or not, or perhaps only 5–10% of it.

However, the actual percentage didn’t matter at this moment. A single phrase, “You unconsciously had such thoughts without even realizing it,” was enough to settle it.

How could she refute something based on thoughts beyond her own awareness?

Moreover, the one pointing it out was the “hero.”

“If you want to face me with your sword, I will simply respond to that intention. I believe that is also part of a hero’s duty.

But now, I wonder. Do you truly want to win against me, Lancia? If so, why do I feel an unshakable sense of resignation in your blade?”

Lancia lowered her head and dropped her sword. Sion chuckled inwardly.

It had worked.

This was Sion’s “third path.”

For someone like her, who has a firm criterion for judgment in martial arts, the first step was to utterly crush her in that field.

Once the hierarchy was established, she could guide her thoughts based on that authority.

For characters like Lancia, this method was particularly effective.

Because she had dedicated everything to martial arts, she would unconsciously perceive someone far superior in that realm as a “much higher being.”

Thus, she would accept their “high-level insight” as truth.

It was an attitude far removed from logic and reason, but surprisingly common in reality.

And this time, Sion intended to exploit this psychology thoroughly.

“Could it be that I really wanted to lose?” Lancia murmured in a dazed voice, as if she had realized something.

Good, it had worked. Perfectly.

“I apologize, Miss Sion. After hearing your words, I have realized my ignorance.”

Lancia clasped her hands and bowed her head, her tone as if she had truly committed a faux pas.

“I will discard all unnecessary ego, so please, could you face me again?”

“Pfft.”

A chuckle slipped out unintentionally. Ah, I shouldn’t do that. Maintain composure, keep a straight face.

‘I knew it. Kids are easy to handle.’

Sion smiled and raised her sword.

“All right. Perhaps I was a bit too harsh. I apologize for choosing rude words earlier.”

“No, it’s fine. But rather…”

“Yes, come on.”

Sion gestured with her sword.

With those words, Lancia nodded and once again kicked off the ground, charging at her.

It was a move similar to the first thrust she had shown, but this time, both her speed and precision had increased.

Oh, could she have truly shed a layer just from those words? Sion marveled internally.

However—

-Clang!!!

A slight improvement alone wasn’t enough to reach the level of legends, the world is not that forgiving.

Sion blocked the second attack just as effortlessly as the first. Lancia’s eyes filled with shock once again.

Before she could utter another word—

‘Hmm, should I offer a little mercy since she looks so pitiful?’

There’s no need to crush her entirely.

Lancia’s talent is undeniably remarkable. There’s no need to stamp out that sprout here.

Besides, doing so would unnecessarily antagonize the Granfil family.

Showing a bit of hope should be fine.

Thinking that, Sion began to chant a spell silently.

Bleed.

A trickle of blood appeared on Sion’s cheek—a small cut.

To an observer, it would seem like an injury from a glancing blow of her sword.

She smiled faintly.

“See, you’re capable if you put your mind to it.”

Saying so, Sion swiftly swung her sword before Lancia could sense anything odd.

Boom!!!

Her body flew back far away as if blasted by an explosion…