Ch.163The Knight Who Removed His Helmet (3)

# Charge with a Sword, Not a Spear

The Charge (衝角) executed with a sword rather than a spear.

Though weaker than the Charge performed by the Bull Horned Star, that was merely relative. The storm Alderan created by thrusting his sword was terrifyingly powerful in its own right.

KAGAGAGAGAGAK!

It wasn’t difficult to gauge its power when seeing rocks and ground being ground into tiny particles upon contact with that storm. Moreover, this wasn’t even a special technique but something he could use continuously, almost like a feint.

Najin had managed to split the first Charge, but the disruption to his posture prevented him from breaking through the second one. He swung his sword awkwardly, but a Sword Master’s technique was not so easily deflected by a wavering blade.

JJEOK!

Caught in the storm, Najin slid backward. When he exhaled his held breath, blood gushed out. Seeing his sword hand trembling, Najin let out a hollow laugh.

Strong. Truly, disgustingly strong. And this was without even using sword energy? He knew the man was monstrously powerful, but this exceeded Najin’s imagination.

‘So this is a Sword Master.’

Though his star had fallen, he couldn’t use mana, and his consciousness was hazy.

‘This is the Empire’s hero.’

The man before him was still a Sword Master and still the Empire’s hero. Spitting out the blood filling his mouth, Najin immediately corrected his stance. There was no time to rest. Najin instinctively knew that for his opponent, the Charge was merely a means to create distance and openings—the real attack would come after.

Flash.

His instinct was correct. The moment Alderan’s sword flashed in the distance, sword strikes flew toward Najin. One stream, two streams, three streams… eight streams of sword strikes descended with very brief intervals.

In this case, Najin’s temporary future sight wasn’t particularly helpful. Najin’s eyes didn’t actually see the future. They merely read preliminary movements and predicted the future that would unfold from those movements. His future sight derived results directly from causes, skipping the intermediate process.

Rustle.

But in a Sword Master’s movements, there were only causes and effects. If Najin skipped the intermediate process to predict the future… Alderan eliminated the intermediate process to turn Najin’s predicted future into the present.

Swinging the sword, projecting the sword strike, and the strike reaching its destination. The middle of these three processes was missing. The moment the sword was swung, the strike leaped across distance to reach its destination. The instant Alderan’s sword flashed, an opaque slash had already arrived right in front of Najin.

Najin threw himself aside.

One stream of sword strike brushed right past him. Rising as if rolling on the ground, Najin swung his sword. He succeeded in splitting the second strike, but the opening created allowed the third strike to descend.

Eventually, he received the third strike with an incomplete stance, and the fourth and fifth with increasingly disrupted postures…

‘This will never end at this rate.’

He was constantly being pushed back, and even as he retreated, Alderan would continue swinging his sword. At this rate, he would only be pushed until exhaustion claimed him. While receiving these sword strikes, Najin recalled Alderan’s teachings.

“Abandon the idea of perfectly receiving every technique. That’s something you can only do against opponents weaker than or equal to you. Against the strong? Be bold.”

Truly, Alderan had taught Najin many things. Survival methods in the Outer Continent, combat basics, the mindset a swordsman should have, and various other things. Reflecting on these teachings, Najin immediately put them into practice.

“Leap in while accepting damage.”

“Boldly create variables.”

“Give up what you must give up, and protect only what you must protect. You can’t protect everything.”

“This isn’t anything special. It’s what you’ve already been doing. You’ve probably been doing it unconsciously. But doing something instinctively and understanding it intellectually before acting are different matters.”

He prepared himself for a certain degree of injury. Using the repulsive force of sword energy to disrupt Alderan’s strikes, he charged forward, even breaking through strikes with his body. Wounds appeared and blood sprayed, but Najin paid no attention.

“Yes, like that.”

Najin closed the distance. Even in this fight where his chances were slim, to increase those slim odds even slightly, he needed to close the distance. While he had no means to cut an enemy dozens of meters away, his opponent did.

Draw your opponent to a stage favorable to you.

Though not advantageous, he needed to face his opponent on a stage where they could at least be equal. While recalling these teachings, Najin couldn’t help but smile. Old memories surfaced.

When escaping the underground city, his battle with Ivan had felt like this too. Ivan had sincerely tried to kill Najin while also sincerely trying to teach him swordsmanship. Thanks to that, Najin had been able to learn Ivan’s sword and sword energy.

‘It’s not much different now.’

This harsh teacher wasn’t trying to kill him, but his consciousness was hazy. A situation where he might kill Najin if he used his full power. If Najin were to be even slightly careless or make a mistake, he would lose his life to Alderan’s blade.

‘That must not happen.’

Najin had no intention of burdening his teacher with the dishonor of killing his own disciple with his own hands. Rather, he intended to give his teacher the highest honor a teacher could receive—meeting his end at the hands of a disciple who had surpassed him.

Tak.

Najin stomped the ground. He sprinted forward, spraying blood.

‘Watch, learn, and surpass.’

Gain enlightenment at the boundary between life and death. Overcome your limits. As always, he needed to grow in this moment. Only then could he defeat this man.

KAAAANG!

Having finally closed the distance, Najin and Alderan clashed swords at close range. With wide eyes, Najin observed Alderan’s sword movements—to learn, and to surpass.

KANG, KAANG!

As swords collided, sparks flew. Alderan’s sword, easily deflecting the repulsive force of sword energy, immediately dove in aiming for Najin’s neck. Swords entangled, and clamorous sounds echoed across the wasteland.

SKAK!

Time and again, their swords grazed each other’s skin. It was a precarious battle like walking a tightrope—one moment of carelessness could cost him his head. If anyone were watching this fight, they would never consider it merely a match between master and disciple.

And that thought would be half correct.

This was a match between master and disciple, but at the same time, it was an honorable duel.

‘Left, right… one strike, connecting to the next… ah, I can’t block this one. To the side. The next…’

A duel against an opponent he had already lost to once, a duel that would adorn the final moments of a knight heading toward death. Najin immersed himself in this duel. Forgetting even to breathe, he searched for a way to win.

Of course, there are many ways to win a fight.

He could stall for time, wait for Alderan to lose his mind and rampage, and then attack when Alderan, having burned his life force, became too exhausted to swing his sword. That might lead to an easy victory.

But that would be a victory in a fight, not in a duel.

A duel must be honorable and just.

One must defeat the opponent head-on for it to have meaning. And in Najin’s thinking, that wasn’t an impossible task.

‘There is a chance. Slim, but it definitely exists.’

Alderan had balanced the scales by bursting his heart to seal his sword energy. Alderan had done so because he was confident that Najin could defeat him at that level.

Of course, in his current state, it wasn’t enough.

Alderan had balanced the scales on the premise that Najin would grow in this very place. The scales were not yet horizontal but tilted toward Alderan. To make them horizontal, he would have to grow.

‘Truly…’

Najin groaned. He laughed while letting out a sigh.

What a harsh teacher indeed.

Grow here. Try to surpass me. If you don’t, you’ll die by my hand. You wouldn’t burden your teacher with such dishonor, would you? As if Alderan were saying such things, Najin smiled at him.

To respond to the expectations of a teacher who was confident in his disciple’s growth, Najin swung his sword.

Challenge and Penetration.

As if responding to its master’s will, Najin’s star blazed pure white.

2.

Alderan Basaglia felt his consciousness growing increasingly hazy. Alderan had been standing at the boundary between the dead and the living for a very long time. Although he had recalled himself, the time given to him was not long.

The time given to him had already ended.

His body and soul, having exceeded their limits, began to crumble. His current self was merely a flame burning fiercely before going out. Before long, this flame would consume him entirely, reducing him to ashes.

Despite knowing this fact, Alderan fanned the flames even more fiercely. To shine one last time. To shine as brilliantly as possible.

‘Ah…’

His consciousness scattered and his judgment was lost.

Alderan began to confuse who he was fighting against, who was standing before him. Whenever that happened, his opponent emitted an intense light.

A twinkling star. Truly a brilliant light.

That light held together Alderan’s scattering consciousness. Alderan recalled. Yes, the one before him was his disciple. Recalling this fact, Alderan swung his sword.

‘More, more, more…’

Keep up more. Sharper, faster.

As if responding to Alderan’s expectations, the trajectory drawn by Najin’s sword became increasingly clean and sharp. Seeing this, Alderan burst into laughter.

It was just as Alderan had predicted.

Najin was growing.

What that boy needed was a perfect example. For that boy, a good teacher wasn’t a theoretically perfect and eloquent instructor. A fine swordsman who could set an example—that was the teacher suited for that boy.

Because showing one example would be more helpful to that boy than speaking a hundred words. Alderan had done just that. Holding onto his hazy consciousness, he swung a perfect sword.

KAAAANG!

Each time swords collided.

Each time sparks flew.

Najin began to mimic Alderan’s movements exactly, as if he were a mirror. Until now, Najin hadn’t perfectly mastered the Triumphant Sword. Not just the special techniques, but flaws existed in each technique and movement.

That was inevitable. Because there were flaws in the movements of Alderan who had been deprived of transcendence, it was natural that flaws existed in Najin’s movements who had learned from him.

But now?

Now Alderan had once again ascended to transcendence. As Alderan demonstrated perfected techniques, Najin immediately followed, filling the holes and flaws in his own movements. The scales that had been tilted toward Alderan gradually became horizontal.

Bleeding, falling, rolling on the ground, yet springing back up and charging again. Struggling desperately to reduce the gap, willing to carve his flesh and bones if necessary to keep up. In this process, Najin grew.

Seeing this, Alderan felt joy. Truly a disciple worth teaching. In his hazy consciousness, Alderan recalled his last lingering attachment.

‘Attachment. Last wish.’

Everyone had forgotten him.

No one remembered him. That fact pained Alderan. He was terrified by the fact that his achievements, the techniques he had built up, the Golden Horned Knights would be forgotten.

He wasn’t afraid of death.

He was only afraid of a death that left nothing behind.

He had always wanted to leave something behind. He desired a successor who would remember him in this world and inherit all that he was. A dream he had given up on because it seemed impossible to achieve, but Najin made Alderan dream again.

“I am the disciple of Alderan Basaglia and.”

Made him drunk on that dream.

“An apprentice knight of the Golden Horned Knights.”

And finally made him dream.

Though he had said he would wake from that dream and pay the price, it seemed he couldn’t do so. He would rather drink the intoxicating liquor and die. He would meet his end while dreaming.

‘Will you do that for me?’

He didn’t say it. He didn’t ask. He merely swung his sword.

‘Of course.’

By following that sword with exactly the same stance, Najin answered. At that answer, Alderan smiled silently. Smiling, he monologued.

Then I shall engrave in your memory.

The Empire’s 800 years.

The Empire’s First Horn sword.

All of me.

With that monologue, Alderan’s consciousness completely scattered.

What remained there was a single knight.

The knight assessed his condition. He couldn’t use sword energy. He couldn’t draw upon mana. In the midst of this, who was his opponent? A swordsman who appeared to be a Sword Seeker. The trajectory drawn by that blade was quite sharp.

And, he resembled himself.

It felt like looking in a mirror.

Though he hadn’t completely caught up yet, the knight could feel him growing with each clash of swords. If he created distance, victory would be certain, but it wasn’t easy to create distance from an opponent who followed so roughly.

Above all, wouldn’t that be discourteous?

He was a knight. Even if he had lost consciousness, he had not forgotten himself.

Alderan Basaglia.

The knight called the Empire’s hero pressed the boy before him. Blood sprayed and he was knocked back, but the boy never retreated. A prideful opponent. The knight smiled with satisfaction as he gripped his sword.

For some reason, he felt he needed to teach something to the opponent before him. He felt he needed to show his best. Was it respect for his opponent, feeling that he should show an excellent sword to an excellent opponent? He couldn’t know the reason.

And, it seemed there was no need to know.

Such things weren’t important.

He was currently in a duel. To determine the outcome of this immensely enjoyable duel, the knight raised his sword.

Though he couldn’t recall, this was the place where he had once gloriously triumphed. Here, he had cut the heart of the Empress of Bliss and made half the stars fall. Though he might not recall that achievement, the heavens remembered.

The fallen, shattered stars shone.

Those stars don’t give any special power. The already fallen stars merely shine. That light illuminates the knight. Holding his sword raised high toward the sky, the knight demonstrates.

His very best.

The stance of holding the sword high as if to pierce the sky is named the First Horn (第一角), or First Sword (第一劍). The appearance is also like raising a military flag. The military flags he wore fluttered in the blowing wind.

Alderan Basaglia always stood at the vanguard.

If the Empire was a ship, he was the horn attached to the bow that rammed into enemies, the sword that was swung first. At the same time, he was also the Empire’s first, the first to be named when speaking of the Empire.

The Empire’s Best Swordsman and the Empire’s First Horn.

The strike that follows from this stance that symbolizes Alderan himself is the special technique of the Triumphant Sword. Alderan did not give it a flamboyant name. He simply attached a word that symbolized himself.

Triumph (凱旋).

The Empire’s First Horn brought down his sword.

First Horn (第一角), Triumph (凱旋).