Chapter 172: The Festival of Swords (15)
Navirose wiped away her nosebleed. Her landing was close to the spectator seats, unintentionally allowing her voice to be heard. Ronan’s eyes widened.
“Wait. Ferocious Sword? What do you mean?”
“Exactly as it sounds. I definitely made sure to render him unable to wield a sword ever again, I don’t know what happened.”
Navirose replied without turning her head. She claimed that this guy called Nodrek was the Ferocious Sword himself. Amidst the thick rising smoke, a yellowish glow created by Nodrek’s Aura flickered. Shullifen, who was shocked, opened his mouth.
“…Impossible. Is there any possibility that he is a disciple or a descendant?”
“I didn’t live in vain to the point of confusing such a thing… Hmmm, here he comes again.”
Navirose clicked her tongue. Simultaneously, within the dense smoke, a yellow flash created by Nodrek’s charge tore through. For most spectators, his charge seemed like a gust of wind.
Unperturbed, Navirose distanced herself. Gathering mana, she swung the sword horizontally, and a deep green crescent moon shot towards Nodrek. It was almost 100 meters in diameter, covering the entire arena. Cheers erupted from the audience.
“Oh my goodness!”
“As expected, a master swordsman!”
There was nowhere to escape. Nodrek, who was charging, came to a sudden halt in his tracks. In the moment when the flying sword energy was about to tear him apart, Nodrek planted his sword into the ground, using it as a support to leap. A bang! The explosion from the tip of the sword added momentum to his body. The flying sword energy passed under Nodrek, hitting the opposite side of the arena and causing an explosion.
“Your momentum has decreased significantly, young lady.”
His tone was far from the composed and rational demeanor he had before. There was not even a trace of it. Instantly, Nodrek, who had reached Navirose, unleashed a sword strike. Gripping the hilt with both hands, he swung it vertically. Navirose, moving like flowing water, intercepted his sword with a smooth motion. Clang! A roar reminiscent of a beast reverberated, shaking the entire arena.
“Thank you for saying that. It’s been a while since I’ve been called a young lady.”
Navirose sneered. The two continued exchanging sword strikes without taking a step back, creating a storm of fierce mana with each clash. Yellow and green – the collision of the two blades intertwined, producing a violent storm of mana. Thunder made of steel roared successively. In the midst of their intense battle, Navirose spoke up.
“Croden. How are you still alive?”
“I owe my life to a peculiar group. Miracles do seem to exist. They healed me when I was dying on the coast.”
Even as they divided blows, they casually engaged in conversation. The calm expressions on their faces made it seem like old friends chatting. Nodrek explained that an enigmatic group had brought him back to life. Navirose raised an eyebrow.
“Fascinating. A peculiar group, you say?”
“Yeah. They even attached the leg that was severed by you. Hard to believe it’s prosthetic, huh?”
“Oh, really? It was prosthetic?”
Navirose raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised. Nodrek’s artificial leg moved so naturally that it was indistinguishable from a real one. It far surpassed the technological prowess of the Empire. He continued speaking.
“But they couldn’t restore the nerves torn away with the skin. Look at my face, now incapable of laughing or crying. I had to sacrifice so many bugs unwillingly.”
“Sacrifice bugs? What are you talking about?”
“The leg and skin weren’t given for free. I had to commit a lot of unintentional killings. It seems changing my hair and eyes to a stupid color wasn’t enough.”
Nodrek chuckled. Of course, with his unchanging expression and tone, it sounded more like the rustling of wind than laughter.
He explained that he had killed countless humans for the sake of sourcing materials. The moment Ronan heard those words, he could imagine what had happened to Russell’s comrades who were taken away alive. Navirose’s brow furrowed unexpectedly.
“If you’ve managed to cling to life, you should’ve lived quietly. Why return to the Festival of Swords? Could it be that you still haven’t let go of your attachment to the Holy Sword?”
“Well, besides the Holy Sword, there are other reasons. I can’t go into details…”
Suddenly, Nodrek tightened his grip on the hilt. The radiance wrapped around the sword intensified, and its speed increased. With a resounding clash, a lightning-like strike hit the blade of the Grand Sword. The previously tense balance crumbled, and Navirose’s body was thrown backward.
“Ugh…!”
Navirose flew all the way to the end of the arena, colliding with the wall. Kwaang! Along with the impact reminiscent of being struck by a siege weapon, part of the spectator seats collapsed. Shullifen, witnessing her spitting blood, rose from his seat. Nodrek’s amplified voice echoed clearly.
“Don’t underestimate people, you bitch. Why don’t you summon your snake?”
Nodrek aimed the tip of his sword at Navirose. The mana that had spread around him like mist twisted, forming ten spiral pillars. Astonished gasps erupted from various parts of the spectator seats. These pillars, each reaching a size of 10 meters, were conglomerates condensed from the Ferocious Sword’s Aura. Navirose, struggling, regained her composure as she twisted her body and steadied herself. A pained groan escaped her lips.
“Ugh…”
“Are you intending to maintain your pride until the end? Well, if that’s the case, think about who will clean up your torn-apart corpse.”
Nodrek growled. The spiral pillars, previously standing vertically, leaned forward, aiming at her. Alarmed, Supervisor Allogin quickly spoke up.
“This is dangerous. Sword Saint, we should stop the duel.”
“No. Wait.”
Zaifa shook her head. Allogin’s face stiffened.
“The match is already decided. Moreover, if that person is truly the Ferocious Sword, Croden, it’s not an ordinary matter. We should immediately halt the duel and secure Croden!”
“I’m telling you to wait. That snake will handle it on her own.”
“What does that mean…!”
Though Allogin protested, Zaifa remained silent. She turned her head slightly to look at Ronan. A subtle exchange of glances passed between the two.
Not yet.
Not yet.
At that moment, the spiral pillars were simultaneously launched. For safety, the wizards who were on standby created a defensive barrier between the spectator seats and the arena. A reddish glow covered the arena, accompanied by a thunderous noise as if the world were turning upside down. The specially treated stone floor flipped like sand, creating a tumultuous scene. The defense barrier, composed of five layers, repeatedly shattered and regenerated. Kwaang! Several participants, unable to withstand the mental shock, vomited blood and collapsed.
“Instructor.”
Shullifen tightened his grip on the hilt. It was an explosion so intense that it would not only excavate bones but wouldn’t leave a trace of flesh. Under normal circumstances, entering now was out of the question, but Navirose’s current state was far from normal. Shullifen, biting his lower lip, debated whether he should intrude even at this moment. From below, a familiar voice reached him.
“You’re quite kind. Indeed, good-looking guys tend to have good hearts.”
“You…”
“Don’t worry too much. The princess will be fine.”
Shullifen lowered his head. Lynn, who had approached unnoticed, was standing by his side. It took him quite a while to invest enough time to realize that the word “princess” referred to Navirose. Ronan also interjected.
“That’s right, dude. Trust her a bit.”
“…Ronan.”
Shullifen shifted his gaze. Ronan, with his fists clenched, casually observed the explosion engulfing the arena. There was no tension apparent in his nonchalant expression. If anything, he seemed like someone waiting for something.
“Just the day before yesterday, Zaifa mentioned that it was the first time she had unsheathed her claws since leaving the North.”
“…What does that mean?”
“Instructor, she’s almost the only person that meticulous tiger would acknowledge. Out of curiosity, I asked her about her experience as the Sword Saint, and she replied like this: ‘I may be violent, but my skills are worse than when I was fifteen. I was just lucky enough to last for 40 years.\'”
Ronan recounted the conversation he had with Zaifa while drinking with her early in the morning. After downing about ten bottles of Millennium Snowflower liquor, Zaifa, whose intoxication had risen, threw off her shirt, revealing the scars on her chest.
On muscles that seemed to have expanded like black obsidian, there remained a sword wound almost the length of Ronan’s height. Among countless scars, there was one that stood out, undoubtedly a wound inflicted by Navirose’s sword.
Unlike Navirose, Zaifa treated those scars as her own commemorative marks. Perhaps due to her long life, her mental resilience was exceptional. She then confidently declared that she could defeat someone like the Ferocious Sword using only one hand. While Ronan regarded both Zaifa and Navirose as geniuses beyond standard measures, he also considered the Ferocious Sword as a highly skilled individual.
“I tried facing him this morning, so I know. Whether he’s Nodrek or the Ferocious Sword, he’s undeniably strong. Probably stronger than both you and me right now.”
“If that’s the case…”
“Yeah. Why would someone with a sharper intuition than me act like that? Take a closer look.”
Suddenly, Ronan, who was shoulder to shoulder with Shullifen, gestured towards where Navirose had been. Shullifen, staring intently at that spot, widened his eyes. Ronan, with a raised corner of his mouth, threw out a single phrase.
“With that level, he can’t beat the Instructor.”
It was a statement of confidence. The explosion ceased shortly after. The smoke covering half of the arena looked like a solid wall. Since no one in the spectator seats spoke up, everyone could hear Nodrek’s muttered words.
“…I should have enjoyed myself a bit before killing you. You were in your prime, after all.”
Nodrek savored the moment. The absence of pitch in the sound made it even more chilling. He, with his gaze fixed on the wall of smoke, muttered to himself.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the baptism. It was useless anyway.”
Nodrek was in a contemplative mood, reflecting on the events of the past few decades. Suddenly, within the smoke, a green crescent moon floated towards him. It looked feeble, as if it might extinguish at any moment. Its size, compared to Navirose’s previous attack, was ridiculously small.
“What’s this? Still alive?”
Nodrek chuckled, embodying the futile resistance of a dying being. As he casually shrugged, the feeble crescent passed by as if to mock.
“It’d be nice if at least your face and torso are intact.”
If only the limbs were severed, it would have been perfectly fine. Nodrek, having turned his blade once, took a step forward for the final confirmation. Whoosh! Suddenly, the wall of smoke exploded, and a green radiance scattered. Massive sword energies revealed themselves.
“What in the…!”
Bewildered, Nodrek swung his sword. It was an unreal spectacle. Horizontal, vertical, diagonal—swords from every direction seemed like a divine net to capture prey.
Finding a gap amidst the sword’s rampage was almost impossible. Eventually, a sword, completely unavoidable, passed by Nodrek’s cheek.
“Ugh!”
With a thud, Nodrek’s right ear fell to the ground. Blood gushed out like a fountain, but there was no time to dwell on the pain. With clenched teeth, Nodrek lunged forward. Rather than fleeing with his back turned, it was better to face it head-on and find an opening.
In a dramatic moment of breaking through the net of swords, Navirose appeared behind the wide-ranging sword energies. The aftermath of the explosion caused her attire to tear in places, but there seemed to be no serious injuries. Bulging muscles on her arms and legs, sharp gaze—she was ready to swing the sword, and she coldly uttered.
“I thought for a moment. Considering what my disciple’s said, you might not be Croden.”
“You damn bitch!”
Nodrek instinctively thrust his sword. Navirose’s imposing figure disappeared from view. Blades that soared aiming for each other crossed paths. Boom! In the fiery aftermath, a fist-sized hole appeared in Navirose’s hair. Simultaneously, a red line manifested above Nodrek’s chest.
“Urgh…”
“But it turned out to be right.”
Blood gushed from Nodrek’s nose and mouth. Navirose, turning her body, kicked his abdomen with great force. Kwaaang! Nodrek, propelled in a straight line, crashed into the opposite side of the arena. A cobweb-like crack emerged, centered around him. His body, sliding against the wall, collapsed onto the ground.
“Still, it’s trash that deserved to be cut down.”
Navirose wiped the blood from her sword. Nodrek remained motionless. An oppressive silence enveloped the arena. Allogin, regaining composure with some effort, finally spoke.
“…The test is over.”