Ch.87Daytime Date (4)

Knight of Atanga, Argo.

Upon meeting a familiar face in the middle of the Empire’s capital, Argo’s face brightened. A young man with the alias Ivan. Though they had promised to meet again after he became a knight, chance encounters were beyond anyone’s control.

“Good to see you, nameless young man.”

“Good to see you too, Sir Argo.”

Though Argo knew Najin’s alias, he didn’t use the name Ivan since he hadn’t heard it directly from Najin himself. He simply smiled good-naturedly and called him the nameless young man.

“I’ve heard rumors about you. You’ve been making quite a splash, haven’t you? I heard you even had a run-in with Sir Griffin.”

“It just happened that way.”

“‘It just happened,’ you say. That’s so like you.”

Argo laughed heartily.

“What brings you to the Empire’s capital?”

“My friend had business here, so I came along as escort and tourist.”

“Tourist, eh? But why this blacksmith shop? Camelot has far more to offer.”

“Well…”

Najin smiled wryly.

“I was drawn by the sound of hammering metal, and found myself in front of this forge.”

“True, the master of this forge does have a rather pleasant rhythm to his hammering.”

Argo nodded emphatically.

Then he gestured to a girl sitting in front of the blacksmith shop. The girl stood up and positioned herself beside Argo.

“This is my disciple, Vlanche.”

Argo said, tousling Vlanche’s hair.

“I stopped by the forge to have a sword made for her. Now that she’s earned the right to bear the Atanga insignia, I thought a sword would make a fitting gift.”

Najin briefly expressed admiration as he looked at Vlanche.

The insignia on the girl’s shoulder guard—two crossed swords and a shield. It was an impressive emblem, and one that Ivan had cherished deeply.

Bam.

Even amid their conversation, Najin felt an intense gaze. When he slightly turned his head, he found Vlanche’s eyes staring at him intently. As Najin wondered about this, Argo smiled wryly.

“Haha. My disciple seems quite interested in you. She perks up whenever she hears rumors about you.”

“…Is that so?”

“Indeed. That day, pursuing the Fallen Knight was her first mission. Meeting you during that mission must have left a strong impression.”

Vlanche continued to stare at Najin. Argo narrowed his eyes and lightly patted Vlanche’s shoulder.

“That’s rude, Vlanche.”

“…I apologize.”

“Not to me, to him.”

“I apologize.”

As Vlanche bowed her head to Najin, Argo stroked his chin. His disciple showing such strong interest in Najin. And this chance meeting. After pondering briefly, Argo spoke.

“If you don’t mind.”

“Would you be willing to test this child’s sword skills?”

2.

Damanos Forge.

This blacksmith shop had an exclusive contract with the Knights of Atanga, and naturally, there was a suitable space behind the forge for testing swords. Upon recognizing Argo’s face, the blacksmith gladly opened the way to the back.

And so they arrived at the training ground.

Argo’s disciple, Vlanche, stretched her body while looking across at her opponent. There stood a man loosening his shoulders. She had first encountered him during the hunt for the Fallen Knight Bernhagen, and since that day, he had never left her mind.

A man who appeared to be around her age at first glance.

However, Vlanche knew that he had defeated Bernhagen alone. Bernhagen was estimated to be a Sword Seeker-level fighter—how was that possible? Vlanche simply couldn’t comprehend it.

“He’s a genius.”

“An unprecedented genius who could succeed Sword Master Charon, perhaps even surpass his records.”

“At just seventeen, he’s approaching the level of Sword Expert. He’ll reach that realm soon.”

These were the stories she had heard.

The world called her a genius, and by objective standards, Vlanche truly was one. No one her age could match her, and she possessed a natural talent for wielding a sword.

Vlanche was aware of her genius. She also had an obsession with being superior to anyone her age.

To her, Najin was an anomalous existence. Someone who appeared to be around her age. Yet someone who had reached a realm overwhelmingly higher than hers. Najin bothered Vlanche.

“Knight of Atanga, Vlanche, disciple of Argo.”

Vlanche pointed her sword at Najin.

“I request a match.”

The conditions for the duel were simple.

A pure sword contest without using mana or sword energy. And within these rules, Vlanche was confident. Confident that she wouldn’t lose.

Pure swordsmanship. The realm of technique.

That was her forte. Vlanche had been wielding a sword since she took her first steps, for 12 years now. Not resting on her talent, she had practiced harder than anyone.

‘I don’t underestimate you.’

Vlanche was certain she wouldn’t be outmatched in pure swordsmanship. She had observed countless masters’ swords, learned various techniques, and even achieved draws against Sword Seekers under these rules.

Tak.

Thus, confident—at least certain she wouldn’t lose—Vlanche took a step forward. She closed the distance with a powerful step and swung her sword. The blade traced a clean arc.

And Najin…

“……”

Expressionlessly watching the trajectory of Vlanche’s sword, he lightly swung his own. Tak, and chang. Her sword was deflected so easily that Vlanche frowned, but she calmly continued her attacks.

Her sword traced smooth arcs. But again, the result wasn’t much different.

Tak, and chang…

This pattern repeated several more times. Throughout, Najin barely swung his sword properly, merely flicking it sideways or using just his wrist.

Chang!

When even her high-speed thrust using her body’s elasticity was parried, Vlanche’s eyes wavered. She knew her opponent was stronger, but this was strange.

‘How?’

A peculiar sense of discomfort. Vlanche suddenly looked into Najin’s eyes and found her answer. As she swung her sword, Najin’s eyes were precisely following its tip.

Reading the sword’s trajectory and intercepting it before it reached its peak power. When she realized what the man before her was doing, Vlanche felt a chill run down her spine.

‘Somewhere…’

She had experienced a similar situation before.

It wasn’t hard to remember when. About two years ago. When Vlanche was making a name for herself as an unparalleled genius, a swordsman suddenly appeared before her.

A swordsman who stormed into the Knights of Atanga alone.

A swordsman who grabbed the swords of alert knights with his bare hands, tossing them aside, approached her, and requested a duel. That swordsman had wielded his sword just like the man before her now.

Neither fast nor slow, but at a moderate pace.

A sword swung to match Vlanche’s speed.

Yet her attacks were deflected so easily.

Faced with the exact same situation, Vlanche gritted her teeth. The memory of that day came flooding back.

“This is disappointing.”

That day, the swordsman had looked at her with cold eyes and said those words.

“Ordinary. No different.”

“Just faster than others.”

She later learned that the disappointed swordsman who muttered those words and left was Sword Master Charon. The incident had left a deep wound on Vlanche’s pride. And now, the same thing was happening again.

With a swordsman around her age.

Vlanche couldn’t accept this. She boldly charged at Najin. Her sword’s speed increased, and she varied its trajectory. It was a ferocity unbefitting someone approaching the level of Sword Expert.

Najin narrowed his eyes.

Then, kuung.

For the first time, he took a step forward and assumed a stance.

* * *

“What are you watching so intently?”

“Observing the duel.”

The master of Damanos Forge.

The master craftsman, Damanos, sat on the forge’s fence, rolling a cigarette. Chik, he lit it and took a long drag.

Then, whoo.

Exhaling a long stream of smoke, he cast his gaze in the direction Argo was looking. The sound of clashing swords echoed loudly from there.

“One is Vlanche… who’s the other?”

“A young man making a name for himself in the adventurer’s city, the protagonist of the Fallen Knight subjugation.”

“Ah, that Ivan fellow?”

Watching the duel, Damanos narrowed his eyes.

“Hmm.”

He let out a long sigh.

“If I’m not mistaken, Vlanche seems to be losing, without even using mana or sword energy.”

“It appears so to me as well.”

“In terms of pure swordsmanship, isn’t she someone who wouldn’t lose even to the middle priests of the Order of the Sword?”

“Indeed. She has tremendous talent and works incredibly hard.”

No one denies that Vlanche is a genius. The world often said she had talent comparable to a Sword Master.

But…

Damanos extinguished his cigarette and focused on the duel between Vlanche and Najin.

“Then what exactly is that young man?”

“That’s what I’m wondering too.”

No matter how mystical a trajectory Vlanche’s sword traced, it couldn’t reach Najin. He intercepted, blocked, and parried her attacks before they could be completed. Once or twice might be coincidence, but…

Kang!

When such incidents repeated dozens of times, it was hard to attribute it to chance. For this to be possible, one would need to understand exactly what sword techniques Vlanche had learned and mastered, which was nearly impossible.

After all, Vlanche had mastered dozens of sword techniques.

Imperial swordsmanship, the Sword of Atanga, the Sword of the Order, Hero Aigar’s Guardian Sword… Understanding all these numerous techniques was impossible. Especially since Aigar’s Guardian Sword was exclusively passed down to Vlanche.

‘Then.’

Was he imitating a Sword Master?

Damanos, who had never crossed swords with a Sword Master, couldn’t tell, but Argo knew. This was something the Sword Master often did.

“Tsk.”

Damanos clicked his tongue as he watched the duel.

“Vlanche will be quite shocked.”

“She needs this.”

“Needs it?”

“Stimulation, the frustration of defeat. It’s good nourishment, isn’t it? Necessary for moving forward.”

Argo smiled with satisfaction.

This would be a good opportunity for his disciple, who had been strongly conscious of that young man. Above all, for Vlanche, who could easily fall into complacency given her environment… this duel would be a good wake-up call.

It was then.

Vlanche assumed a stance. Seeing that stance, Argo frowned. It was a stance for executing Atanga swordsmanship. Caught up in her competitive spirit, she was about to use a technique she shouldn’t.

‘I need to stop this.’

Just as Argo was about to step forward to halt the match, Najin moved first. Before Vlanche could execute the Atanga technique, Najin’s sword traced a clean arc and struck down on Vlanche’s sword.

A straight and stubborn trajectory.

A sword that shattered the opponent’s stance.

It was a technique that required both simple yet precise control of power, but Najin executed it flawlessly. The moment the swords clashed, Vlanche’s stance crumbled and…

Kaang!

“Ugh…!”

Finally, Vlanche’s arm was thrown upward, causing her to lose grip on her longsword. Her dropped sword clattered on the ground.

“……”

Biting her lip firmly, Vlanche said:

“I’ve lost.”

As she acknowledged her defeat, Argo stood frozen in place with wide eyes. After a moment, he burst into laughter.

‘To think I’d see that again.’

The swordsmanship Najin had just displayed.

A sword that shattered the opponent’s stance and pressed them down. That distinctive movement and footwork was familiar to Argo as well. It was a technique that had defeated him numerous times when he was an apprentice knight.

The technique Najin used habitually clearly contained fragments of Ivan.

Encountering these fragments, Argo smiled pleasantly. He hadn’t imagined he’d see his old friend’s technique again.

3.

“Well done. This is my gift to you.”

Argo handed Najin a wooden box, which, when opened, contained a pair of leather gauntlets. Judging by the well-tanned leather, they were of high quality.

“For a knight, gauntlets are as important as a sword and armor. Do you know why?”

When Najin shook his head, Argo grinned and made a gesture of throwing his glove.

“Before a duel, it’s tradition to throw down one’s glove, isn’t it? The louder the sound when the glove hits the ground, the more dramatic the atmosphere.”

Najin chuckled.

“I accept with gratitude.”

“Good. And thank you for crossing swords with this child. It was a great help.”

Vlanche bowed deeply to Najin. There was something different in her gaze compared to before their duel. Najin smiled at Vlanche.

“You’re impressive. Your sword is fierce. I look forward to exchanging sword energy with you next time.”

At Najin’s words, Vlanche’s eyes widened.

Somewhat surprised, her lips trembled before she spoke in a small voice:

“Th-thank you…”

As Najin was about to leave with such a send-off, he touched the back of his neck. He had been feeling a subtle gaze for a while.

‘A subtle gaze.’

He felt a gaze, but couldn’t determine its source. Even as he turned his head and looked around, he saw nothing. After searching his surroundings for a while, Najin’s gaze stopped at one spot.

A tower in the distance.

One of the five towers surrounding the imperial palace.

He felt as if the gaze was coming from that tower. After staring at the tower for a while, Najin shook his head. It must be his imagination. He had been overly sensitive lately…

* * *

The old man stroked his beard.

Hair turned white by the passage of time.

Wrinkled skin. Yet, even time’s flow couldn’t bend the old man’s back and waist. The old man slowly rose from his chair.

For a while, he gazed at a certain place.

Because the resonance of swords came from there.

The resonance created by clashing swords. Even from a distance, he could feel that resonance. The sword’s cry was the only sound that made the old man’s soul tremble.

“Berje.”

“You called, sir.”

“Gray hair. Adventurer’s attire. Sunset-colored eyes. Investigate the young man who visited this city today.”

“Yes, understood.”

The First Pillar of the Empire.

The Empire’s First Horn.

The pinnacle of humanity with seven stars.

“Interesting.”

Gerd, the Sword of the Empire, smiled. For a while, he gazed at the young swordsman who had come to the Empire, humming the pleasant sword cry that had just reached his ears.