The Academy’s Hard-Headed Swordmaster

In war, the value of a Magician far surpasses that of a knight.

If a knight is the flower of the battlefield, a Magician is its god.

With their powerful firepower capable of striking the enemy unilaterally from afar, if magic were a discipline accessible to all, the nature of war would have transformed into a barrage of spells exchanged from behind walls and trenches.

This condition remains unchanged even at the Master level, where a Magician of the Five-Star receives even more reverence than an Aura Master.

“—You finally show yourself, Duke.”

“Damn you, Chantalka…”

However, this was only true in the realm of ‘war.’

When it came down to the domain of combat and tactics, Magicians could never defeat knights.

This was the reason why the barbarians couldn’t conquer the Northern Great Wall, guarded by the Duke, a Master-level Magician.

It was also why the Duke didn’t personally sweep away the barbarians, but instead, merely peppered them with magic from atop the wall.

If it were a war, the Duke’s side, with its abundance of Magicians, would have the advantage.

But if it turned into a battle…

“Now I can finally end this dreadful war. Don’t you agree?”

Aura Master.

They couldn’t defeat the barbarians, who possessed Great Warriors.

It was a mistake for the Duke to be startled by Kyle’s presence—Kyle, who should have been in the Central region—and come down, especially since Chantalka hadn’t been seen lately.

The Duke stared at Chantalka with a hardened expression.

“Damn barbarian bastard.”

“Hahaha! Yes, are you ready to be ripped apart by this barbarian?”

‘Shing—’

Chantalka drew the sword from his waist.

It wasn’t made of steel but crafted from the ground bones of monsters that existed beyond the North.

As expected of a bone sword, its edge wasn’t particularly sharp, but that didn’t matter much to an Aura Master.

Not in the face of an Aura Blade that could cut through anything.

‘Whoosh—!’ A white aura, like a flame, flared up. As the Duke, sensing death, bit his lip, Kyle stepped in front of him.

“You…”

“Your Grace, is there… any way to stop that?”

“…Only another Aura Blade can stop an Aura Blade.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

If the Duke had a means to block the Aura Blade, Kyle thought they might be able to repel Chantalka with their combined strength.

They were right in front of the Great Wall, and just a short climb away from escape.

But if there was no way to stop the Aura Blade… it was truly unfortunate.

“Go on ahead, Your Grace.”

“What are you—”

“It’s better for one to die than both… Even if I die, if Your Grace lives, you can stop him. But if Your Grace dies, everyone within these walls will die.”

Thinking rationally and logically—his sacrifice was the right choice here.

However, the Duke didn’t seem to think so, his face hardening as he remained rooted to the spot.

“Hurry!”

At Kyle’s yell, the Duke finally started to move.

Seeing this, Chantalka let out a scoff of amusement.

“Did you think I’d let him go?”

At this moment, Chantalka disregarded Kyle completely and lunged towards the Duke.

He didn’t believe that an Expert-level knight, not even an Aura Master, could harm him.

And he was right.

The body of an Aura Master naturally emanated aura even with each breath, possessing a resilience that could withstand the attacks of an Expert with a laugh.

He could intentionally release aura from his body to block even stronger attacks.

But it seemed he wasn’t going to waste his aura before his fight with the Duke.

‘I can do this.’

Picking up the sword that had rolled on the ground, Kyle blocked Chantalka’s path and met his blade with his own.

Despite being imbued with aura, Kyle’s sword began to be sliced apart, unable to withstand the Aura Blade.

However, the Aura Blade had a structural weakness.

“Hah—!”

Kyle tilted his half-severed sword, aiming for the flat of Chantalka’s blade.

Unlike the edge of the sword, imbued with the Aura Blade that cut through everything it touched, the flat of the blade had no cutting power.

If Chantalka were to expend his aura freely, he could incinerate anything that touched the flat of his blade.

But Chantalka wasn’t wasting his aura.

Pressing his half-severed sword against the flat of Chantalka’s blade, Kyle pushed with all his might, deflecting it to the side.

“Oh?”

A slight deviation, that was all it took.

Chantalka’s sword missed the Duke, and in that brief opening, the Duke soared into the sky, leaping onto the Great Wall.

Even an Aura Master wouldn’t chase a Magician floating in the air. It would only result in being attacked unilaterally.

Having missed the Duke because of a mere knight he had disregarded, Chantalka chuckled.

“Interesting. Very interesting.”

After laughing for a while, Chantalka suddenly wiped the amusement off his face and glared at Kyle fiercely.

“Things don’t always go my way… but by a brat like you…”

In the next instant, Kyle was sent flying as if hit by a truck.

A searing pain, as if his insides were rupturing, shot through him, and he coughed up blood.

After rolling on the ground for a while, Kyle managed to regain his balance and stand up.

The moment he did, Chantalka appeared before him.

“Such a perfect opportunity.”

‘Swoosh—!’

A sword flew towards him.

Kyle instinctively raised his sword to block the blow.

But even before the swords met, Chantalka, as if anticipating the block, immediately changed his trajectory and struck Kyle’s thigh.

A dull pain registered, and Kyle collapsed to the ground, one knee buckling.

Another powerful impact followed, hitting his abdomen.

‘Shit, I’m going to die…’

He felt like a soccer ball. Kicked, struck with a sword, cut, sliced—.

Each attack wasn’t meant to kill him outright, but to inflict pain, filled with Chantalka’s frustration at having let the Duke escape.

“Cough!”

Kicked and sent flying once more, Kyle vomited fragments of his internal organs and struggled to his feet. He had lost too much blood; his head spun.

His vision blurred.

As he blinked, trying to focus, he saw a sword blade swinging towards his head.

‘—No!’

It was his lifelong dedication to swordsmanship that saved Kyle in this life-or-death situation.

He deflected the aura-less sword and, in the same fluid motion, raised his own.

Meyer Style Forth Form: Emperor’s Majesty.

The Emperor’s strike, capable of bringing the world to its knees, descended.

Chantalka, having received the Emperor’s Majesty, looked at Kyle with admiration.

“Ooh— You use an interesting technique.”

Raising his sword above his head, Chantalka grinned and swung it down, mirroring Kyle’s move.

“Is this how you do it?”

Pseudo Emperor’s Majesty.

A downward strike, identical to Kyle’s, or perhaps even more menacing, hit him.

Unlike Kyle, who would lose all his strength after a single use and couldn’t use it consecutively, Chantalka, a Master, continued to strike.

‘Kwang—! Kwaang—!’

Impacts that felt like they would shatter his arms rained down on him.

“Did you think such petty tricks would work on a Master?”

Chantalka said, looking down at Kyle, who was trembling uncontrollably.

His body seemed on the verge of death, yet in contrast—his eyes still held an unwavering determination.

If Kyle had been born into the same tribe, the same nation, even as an enemy, Chantalka would have taken him in as his own son.

“The secret techniques you call your ultimate moves… are nothing more than ordinary strikes to warriors who have reached the Master level.”

An ultimate move meant a sword technique that channeled aura most effectively.

But did a Master truly need an ultimate move?

Any swing of their sword was an ultimate move.

In other words, ultimate moves were techniques created by ordinary individuals who hadn’t reached the Master level, in an attempt to imitate Masters.

“It’s a shame. If you had been born with the same blood as me, our tribe would have gained another Great Warrior.”

Chantalka said, raising his sword. He had played enough. It was time to kill him and return.

‘Whoosh—!’

Aura flared on the sword made from a beast’s bone.

Ready to finish Kyle off, Chantalka looked at him and asked.

“Any last words?”

“…”

Despite Chantalka’s question, Kyle stared blankly into space, saying nothing.

Chantalka scratched his cheek, wondering if he had hit him so much that he had gone insane.

Kyle wasn’t in any state to care about the warrior in front of him.

It wasn’t his physical condition, but his mental state that was the problem.

‘—Ordinary strikes to Masters?’

Chantalka’s words from moments ago, about having reached the Master level, became the key that unlocked the door.

A powerful surge of inspiration exploded in Kyle’s mind.

Why were Aura Masters also Sword Saints? Why was there a need to train in swordsmanship, seemingly unnecessarily, when they could channel aura outside their bodies?

The answer had just revealed itself.

“I guess not.”

As Chantalka swung down his aura-wreathed sword—Kyle, still looking at the ground, muttered something.

Just as Chantalka was about to feel disappointed by the anticlimactic end of such a skilled warrior, an ice spear, flying from afar, struck his sword with a ‘thud—’, deflecting it.

“—The Duke!”

The only Magician capable of deflecting his sword with such force was the Duke.

Realizing this, Chantalka abruptly looked up at the Great Wall.

The Duke, who had managed to climb onto the wall, was now flying towards them, risking his life for Kyle.

‘Foolish.’

Chantalka turned his attention from Kyle and walked towards the Duke.

He didn’t think a dying knight could hinder him again.

He’d die anyway if left alone.

With that thought, Chantalka passed by Kyle.

A chilling sensation ran down his spine, and he quickly dodged to the side.

“—What…?”

Turning around with a shocked expression, Chantalka saw Kyle, whom he had reduced to a rag doll, standing.

How he could even stand in that condition was beyond him, but the aura emanating from him was ominous.

“…Masters.”

“What?”

“Why are Aura Masters also Sword Saints?”

‘Whoosh—!’

Aura erupted from Kyle’s sword.

Chantalka’s eyes widened.

“I found the answer.”

“Ha, haha. Hahaha—!”

Chantalka burst into hearty laughter, gripping his sword tightly as he faced the Great Warrior before him.

A Great Warrior equal to himself stood in front, and an Archmage capable of killing him was behind.

A dead end.

“I might be able to take one of you down.”

With those words, Chantalka charged straight at Kyle.

Then, sword clashed against sword.