Dance of the Scarlet Lion

People tend to subjectively evaluate others based on their own memories and experiences. Those who can objectively assess others are people with specialized professions, such as scouts who evaluate players or headhunters who recruit talent. As an ordinary web novel writer, I can only judge Rakar based on my own experiences and memories.

Rakar’s appearance, wielding his dual swords like a madman to the point of seeming extremely irrational. It made me speculate whether he had learned something similar to my [Berserker] ability.

Unlike me, who escaped the penalty of madness thanks to my indomitable courage, Rakar’s breathing, which should have been steady, was erratic, and he showed no intention of backing down despite my feints.

To disregard defense while facing me, who can target his back from impossible angles at any time, is clearly a blunder. I quickly retreated to create distance, then used space magic to attack Rakar’s defenseless back.

Rakar, who was charging straight after me, rotated his body in an instant as if he had read the attack that appeared from a blind spot, letting my attack flow through the gap between his armpits, and naturally continued the motion, swinging his dual swords as they were.

Holding my spear shorter than usual, I quickly retracted the spear I had thrust out, and at the same time, I created a dimensional entrance in the trajectory of the dual swords to deflect the attack. One of Rakar’s dual swords entered the dimensional entrance and was swung towards Rakar’s thigh. Just before the sword pierced his thigh, Rakar, who had switched the sword in his other hand to a shield, blocked his own sword with incredible reaction speed.

Kang-!

That incredible reaction speed made me realize my guess was wrong. Rakar receives attacks with his body, but it’s different from a Berserker who consumes life force to unleash powerful strikes. Rather, it’s a display of purely innate senses being pushed to the extreme. Minimizing thought and acting with reflexes and instinctual senses.

At that moment, I naturally realized. This is a battle of skill and talent. Upon realizing that, a competitive spirit surged from the depths of my heart. I gripped the spear shaft tightly and glared at Rakar. I faced Rakar head-on, who had switched his shield back to a sword.

I exhaled, applying mana. My senses sharpen. Along with that, the world slows down, and the realm of extrasensory perception expands. Reacting to the intangible breath, the power of my entire body is momentarily and explosively amplified.

I unleashed a barrage of attacks at such an incredible speed that it felt like the spearhead had tripled. Each strike, packed with all my strength, felt like my arm muscles were burning. If he fails to block properly, he will surely suffer a fatal wound.

Even with the storm of attacks pouring down, Rakar didn’t back down. He intends to engage in a war of attrition with me, deflecting all the attacks. Rakar’s innate senses and effort combined to keep up with the speed of the attacks, even with the use of intangible breathing. But even so, this sparring match can only be my victory.

Blocking attacks with senses alone is the result of Rakar’s innate talent and tremendous effort combined. It’s definitely an impressive ability, and it’s a result that requires a lot of effort that can’t be easily replicated. But that alone is not enough to win against me in sparring.

The gap between our weapons is different. Even if he kept up with the speed of the attacks, Rakar can’t seem to close the gap that has opened up. I’m the one unilaterally pouring out attacks. That means the stamina being consumed is different for each of us. If he doesn’t retreat, he’ll be broken. But against me, who has no range limitations due to space magic, he couldn’t choose the option of retreating. The moment he steps back, Rakar’s defeat is certain.

The existence of space magic forces the opponent to approach me unilaterally. Regardless of the terrain, I fight from a position that is advantageous to me from the start.

This is also the reason why Lykan said with a confident voice that I would become the most difficult opponent to face one-on-one. Because I’m fighting in a battlefield that is unfairly advantageous to me.

As expected, I was the victor in the war of attrition. Rakar, whose stamina was rapidly depleted, noticeably slowed down in blocking attacks. Rakar, who had been gradually pushed back, eventually changed his mind and gave up his dual swords, switching back to a sword and shield.

But that action is just a simple stalling tactic. In the first place, he bypassed with dual swords because approaching with a sword and shield was difficult. Even if he raises his shield again, there’s no sign that the situation will improve now that his stamina is even lower.

Eventually, Rakar, who relied on the defense of his shield and advanced, forcibly trying to close the distance with his senses, struggled to block the attacks and failed to avoid a surprise kick to the back using space magic, losing his balance and tumbling forward.

As I brought the spearhead close to Rakar’s nape, Rakar’s tattoo finally lost its red light. Rakar, who was breathing roughly, finally opened his mouth with a look of exhaustion.

, Heok, heok… As, as expected of the club president. You’ve reinforced your stamina and speed, which were your weaknesses. I thought I could win a war of attrition… That’s really amazing growth.”

Rakar, who let out a long sigh, shook off his exhaustion and soon wore a satisfied smile. It seems he feels good about sparring with me after a long time. I put the Spear of Destruction into my space storage and grabbed Rakar’s hand to help him up.

Rakar, covered in dirt, shook his body and plopped down on a chair. It seems there’s a strain on his body after using something like intangible breathing.

“You look tired, drink this.”

I found a moderately cool drink in my space storage and gave it to Rakar. Rakar, who emptied the drink in an instant with an old man-like “Kyaa~!” sound, took a moment to catch his breath and then explained to me about the training he had during the vacation.

“I trained with my father with my sister during the vacation. My father gave me this tattoo himself. This is our family’s secret. It’s called the Dance of the Scarlet Lion.”

Come to think of it, Rakar’s sister also had red hair. That’s probably why it’s called the Scarlet Lion. Seeing Rakar stroking his tattoo as if he was proud, I said.

“At first, I speculated that you had become a Berserker. You seemed to have an extreme offensive tendency, as if you had lost your reason. But it wasn’t that you had lost your reason, but rather that you seemed to have pushed your instinctual senses to the extreme.”

We usually exchange what we felt in the sparring after the sparring is over. At the beginning of the semester, the difference in skill was so great that Rakar taught me most of the time, but now we stand shoulder to shoulder, pointing out each other’s problems and exchanging opinions. Recently, I’ve felt that I’ve grown so much in various places. It’s not a bad feeling.

Rakar, who nodded as if acknowledging me, who was smiling slightly, threw a question instead of an answer.

“Club president, where do you think fear comes from?”

Thinking it was a question without context, I pondered for a moment.

“Fear…. Well, if I had to say, wouldn’t it be imagination?”

I once heard that you can’t feel fear if you don’t have imagination. The imagination that there might be a monster lurking in the dark. I’ve often experienced that turning a room where I felt comfortable into a somehow creepy place. If you accidentally go to a website and see a trailer for a horror movie or a horror novel, your imagination is stimulated in conjunction with the darkness. That’s why I try to ignore the footsteps I hear from under the bed.

Rakar smiled with a satisfied expression at my answer.

“As expected of the club president. You got it right away. The Dance of the Scarlet Lion aims for that point. It helps you reduce your thoughts and fully engage in battle with only physical reactions. Just like if you dance the waltz thousands of times, you can naturally dance the waltz even after a few years, the experience accumulated in your body instinctively avoids danger.”

I nodded in admiration at Rakar’s explanation. Rakar, who had grown up steadily climbing the stairs since he was young, completed the Dance of the Scarlet Lion based on the solid foundation he had built. Minimizing the process of thinking in a battlefield where a moment’s hesitation determines life and death will make a huge difference.

“But there’s a big disadvantage too.”

Rakar scratched his eyebrows for a moment and made a face that was difficult to say. When I shrugged my shoulders to mean it was okay, Rakar opened his mouth with a sigh.

“Because I minimized my thoughts, I’m a little….”

“…A little?”

Rakar straightened his upper body, which had been leaning forward. Rakar, who cleared his throat and hesitated, finally said in a low voice.

“…I become stupid. That’s why the club president mistook me for a Berserker. Because I act instinctively… I act a little primitively.”

Rakar’s confession reminded me of the sparring match a little while ago. Rakar, who was shouting “Die!” and wielding his dual swords like crazy, was honestly a memorable sight. I bit my upper lip into my mouth and held back my laughter.

Rakar’s face turned red. He must think he showed a shameful side. It was definitely far from his usual serious and reliable appearance.

…That’s why it feels more fun.

“Well, you did look a little stupid. But it was amazing. Really.”

When I said that with a smile, Rakar smiled with a slightly embarrassed expression.

“Because I wanted to be helpful to the club president.”

He’s already a big help. Along with Luna, Rakar is one of the few people who makes me feel comfortable. He’s also my first friend.

That’s why there was no need for lengthy words. Just by tapping each other’s shoulders, we felt once again that we were friends.

Now that we’ve rested, it’s time to challenge the second trial as originally planned. Suddenly curious, I got up from my chair and asked.

“So, what was the last trial?”

Rakar raised the corners of his mouth at my question. With a face full of joy, Rakar took a deep breath and puffed out his chest. That appearance made me unknowingly feel expectant.

“That’s…!!! It would be better to experience it yourself.”

Rakar turned his head away, pretending not to notice my dumbfounded expression.