07

A massive frame, gleaming eyes. Arms as thick as logs, and in hands so large they looked capable of crushing a human skull, he gripped a gigantic greatsword befitting his build.

He spread it before his chest like a shield, trying to block the sharp kicks of a slender man whose physique was the complete opposite of his own.

With violent clashes, the course of the battle shifted dramatically, like a raging storm.

The slender man, missing his right arm and wearing a simple prosthetic on his left leg, was named Ains.

For various reasons, Ains was now trading blows with the rock-like man who was barely managing to block his kicks—Talidge.

At the start of the match, Talidge had expected it to be decided easily, but things did not go as he had predicted.

“…Tch.”

Even blocking now was all he could manage.

Between the two, there were numerous physical disparities. Overwhelmingly, Talidge should have held the advantage.

Yet Ains possessed enough skill that Talidge found himself breaking into a cold sweat, thinking he might lose without that advantage.

With the blade blunted, Talidge thought it was obvious which would break first—the sword blade or the crude prosthetic leg.

But in the next instant, only the hilt remained in his large hand, the blade extending from it shattered into countless fragments.

There was no numbness in Talidge’s hand. That meant no heavy, dull impact had struck it.

A localized, instantaneous shock had pulverized the blade faster than its force could even reach his hand.

Talidge stood stunned.

Ains watched him with cold eyes, making no move to press the attack.

Even Haral, who had taken on the role of referee, was left dumbfounded by the match’s unexpected ending.

Talidge remembered little of what followed.

At Haral’s sharp command, once he regained his composure, the match was ended. After Haral left the grounds, Darius spoke to Talidge with visible irritation, and they returned to the Sobi estate.

On the way back, Darius said nothing to Talidge, muttering to himself the entire time.

Walking beside him, Talidge replayed his exchange with Ains again and again.

As swordsmanship went, Ains seemed skilled enough to be called a high-class swordsman even in the Gairin Empire. Moreover, when Talidge used Divine Force—a power said to be wielded only by swordsmen of Sword King rank or higher—Ains responded with Divine Force of equal measure.

If anything, Ains’s Divine Force seemed more refined than Talidge’s own.

“…I’ve never seen anyone use Divine Force here.”

Divine Force was the act of circulating power surging from within the body, drawing out strength far beyond normal physical limits. However, the strain it placed on the body was anything but light.

Without proper movement and a deep understanding of one’s own body, the amplified power would spiral out of control and destroy the user from within.

That was why only swordsmen of Sword King rank or higher were said to be able to wield Divine Force.

“…I don’t know his school, but his sword skill is exceptional, and his Divine Force surpasses mine. …So why?”

There was no passion in Ains’s eyes. They were completely cold. He had no interest, no attachment, no emotion toward the sword. He wielded it like a mere tool. When it became unusable, he discarded it without hesitation. That was not how a swordsman behaved.

There was another distortion Talidge sensed.

Any swordsman who had elevated their skill to a certain level possessed an instinct—something like a sixth sense, an essential aptitude.

Ains did not have it.

“…Could it be that he’s not a swordsman?”

The distortion in their bout was something only those directly involved could perceive, not mere spectators.

The more Talidge thought about it, the deeper the puzzle drew him in.

As he tried to think further, they arrived at the estate.

“…Talidge, go back to your room. I must report today’s events to my father.”

“…Understood.”

Talidge replied curtly. Darius frowned deeply, irritation clear on his face.

“Listen. Today’s match has undoubtedly reached my father’s ears! Do you understand what that means? I’m the one who’ll be grilled because of this—because of you! I hired you because you claimed to be a swordsman confident in his ability! What are you going to do? Before I finish reporting to my father, think of some way to recover the reputation you’ve lost!”

Smaller than Talidge, Darius nevertheless jabbed a finger at his face, raising his voice without fear.

After saying his piece, Darius headed for the study of his father, Zoin Sobi.

Left alone, Talidge considered his next move.

If he failed to contribute somehow, he would be cast out of the Sobi house.

That would be bad. He had yet to achieve his objective in the Santia Kingdom.

“…I remember those guys saying they found something in the slums. What was it—‘holy relic,’ was it?”

Talidge recalled something he had overheard earlier.

In the magic-oriented Santia Kingdom, holy relics were said to fetch high prices.

“…If I get my hands on that, this mess might be salvageable.”

Talidge decided to meet up with the unsavory companions he had made since arriving here, and waited for Darius to return.

“…That young master will probably come back red-faced.”

It wasn’t that he was afraid.

More than anything, he wanted to reflect on his exchange with Ains. Talidge quietly closed his eyes.

‘Next time, I want to face him with my true partner. If I cross blades with him then, I should be able to get closer to what I’m seeking…’

His intuition told him so.