Sword of the North – 1

The frozen soil of the battlefield was hard. Planting her feet on the ground like roots and wielding her greatsword, she was an ancient tree.

The chipped, crude greatsword roared, tearing through the winter air.

With a clear cracking sound, the scream of the broken sword scattered into the sky. Torn to shreds, it turned its back on its original form and drifted away.

She breathed in deeply, resonating with the greatsword, and exhaled through her mouth. Some of the weaklings who were approaching paused.

The swaying bodies of the weaklings blocked her path to him. The only emotion she felt was displeasure.

To get closer to the prey that was moving away, she raised the greatsword she had slammed down.

The massive weapon, slightly embedded in the ground, dripped soil like saliva.

She didn’t say things like, ‘Get out of the way,’ or ‘Open the path.’ A true warrior should speak with their strength.

That was the culture of the tribe.

Leaning on the greatsword, she swung it horizontally, and her tightly braided black hair stuck to her cheek.

Like slicing well-ripened meat, the bodies of the weaklings were smoothly cut. The bisected upper and lower bodies fell onto the frozen soil.

Another weakling grabbed a sword and charged at her. His body was leaning to the side, so he must have judged that his center of gravity was broken.

It was an attack straight from the textbook. And she found the action laughable.

The North, the wilderness, the battle in the snowfields was different from the textbook.

Her left hand, which had released the sword, grabbed the hand of the opponent holding the sword. And she bent his arm so that the tip of the weapon pointed towards his own stomach.

She saw him muttering with a flustered face, but she didn’t care. She simply put strength into her hand and tore through his stomach.

Red-stained entrails spilled onto the snowfield. His death would become nourishment for the earth.

As the bodies of the weaklings collapsed, the path that had been hidden was revealed again.

‘Prey!’

Her eyes flashed like a beast.

Perhaps the previous attack had worked, as a large diagonal wound was etched into him. Red blood gushed out from between the roughly opened wound.

Her heart ached. Leaving a sword mark on what she cherished most in the world was truly heartbreaking.

However, she had never thought that she could catch her prey without injury, even when stepping onto the battlefield.

She picked up the discarded sword again and ran towards her prey.

A distance where she could reach out and touch him, she grabbed the prey, who had lost his will to fight, by the scruff of his neck, and if she turned around as she was, this battle would be over.

This hunt would be the most glorious hunt of her life. An arm decorated with leather straps stretched towards the prey’s neck.

The blue Tattoo that started from her wrist and continued to her elbow gleamed.

The Tattoo of the hunt. The glorious mark that a child of the tribe received when they succeeded in hunting with their own strength showed its presence even in this urgent moment.

The man who opened his eyes to the ear-splitting noise instinctively swung his arm when he saw the hand reaching towards him.

It turned out that something that looked like a sword was gripped in the arm he swung. A weapon that was difficult to call a sword, with only the handle and the base of the blade remaining, scattered the last of its sharpness.

The hand that was flying towards his face, as if trying to wring it, paused thanks to the weapon in his hand.

As if reading the trajectory of the sword, the hand quickly distanced itself, ultimately minimizing the damage by allowing a slight scratch.

Blood trickled down from the very shallowly drawn dividing line. It was nothing compared to the blood that stained the man’s chest red.

“The bleeding has stopped.”

She wasn’t talking about the blood flowing on her hand. Her eyes were directed at the man’s chest.

Through the tattered armor, the man’s bare chest was revealed.

Blue eyes, black hair, blue Tattoos engraved on his face and body, clothes that looked like they were made of animal skin, and a greatsword in his hand.

Barbarism and warrior. He had a foot in both.

She raised the greatsword again and dropped the sword towards his head as it was.

The wind pressure created by the heavy greatsword rang his alarm bells.

He threw the weapon in his hand. It was a quick and clever decision.

He stepped forward, rolling his feet along with the weapon that was thrown.

What arrived first was the thrown object. It was embedded in her shoulder.

Even though the blade pierced her body, the woman didn’t scream. She simply swung down the greatsword.

What arrived next was the man. He hit the handle with his palm.

Like hammering a nail, the sword embedded in the woman’s shoulder dug in deeper.

He had to throw his body to the side without even checking the success of the attack.

This was because the greatsword had already swept through where he was.

He rolled on the hard frozen soil. By the time he regained his posture and stood up, the woman had pulled out the sword embedded in her shoulder and threw it towards the ground.

“Something’s changed. Weren’t you moving according to the textbook?”

The man remained silent at the woman’s question.

The frozen soil began to melt with blood, sweat, and heat. The moisture frozen in the earth turned the soil into mud.

The man and woman felt like their bodies were sinking slightly.

“You’ve been hiding your skills all this time? Whatever… this is fun.”

Yes, the more difficult the hunt, the more enjoyable it is.

“Give it your all! Duke!”

The woman warrior pulled out the greatsword and stomped her feet. Just as the mud was about to splash, the greatsword was already right in front of the man’s nose.

‘What are you planning to do without a weapon!’

Every time the prey made this kind of attack, he would deflect the trajectory with his sword.

But now, his beloved weapon was not there. He wouldn’t be able to deflect the attack with his nearly miraculous skill as before.

Her heart vibrated violently. Her body tingled at the prey’s different side.

Hurry, make me more happy!

That way, when I hunt you, my happiness will be deeper!

Just as the greatsword was about to touch his face, the man moved.

He twisted his body to the side, and she could see strength entering the shoulder of the leg he put forward.

Heup, she heard a short inhale.

And silence. A pain she had never experienced in her life began to spread, centered on her abdomen.

“Keuk!”

She flew backwards with a short scream.

She rolled and rolled in the mud. Her glorious appearance, colored with the enemy’s blood, was covered in mud.

Kneeling down, she gritted her teeth and raised her head.

The appearance of the prey she looked up at from a low angle was definitely different from before.

The prey retrieved his outstretched fist and said briefly.

“Yomryun Skill, One Punch.”