How to Live as a Swordmaster of the Enemy Nation

Martial Arts Tournament (3)

They greeted each other face to face.

'Surely, greetings are the etiquette of nobles.'

That guy only gave a slight nod, then insincerely bowed his head deeply.

Nevertheless, there was no other noble who criticized that slovenly behavior. Probably, it was evident that this guy's status was quite high.

Gregory sized up his opponent's skill. The fact that the opponent had made it up this far was no bluff. Radian's fascinating gaze also proved it.

In some ways, other nobles seemed to fawn over even the slightest gesture from this noble youth.

'Whatever it takes, I will win... To prevent war, and for the great revenge that will bear fruit one day.'

After the intense greeting, an enormous psychological battle began. It had been ongoing until now, but both were exuding considerable concentration with not a trace of laxity.

The audience was clearly flustered by the sight of the two standing so still without even the slightest movement.

As always, the gap created when making a single attack is important. All the more so in a one-on-one situation like a duel.

If you target the gap and amplify your power, you can deliver a strong attack. But to stop an attack aimed at such a gap requires immense agility and concentration.

Normally, martial arts tournaments feature a blend of fierce movements and swordplay that make for an entertaining sight, so this might have been somewhat shocking to others.

After quite some time, Gregory was the first to swing Durandal fiercely at Versophi.

The reason for bringing Durandal was obvious. Using a familiar sword would be the driving force that could display his skills to the limit, and, as no one was to be harmed, he even wrapped the blade in bandages.

That way, there wouldn't be a single action that went against the intent of the martial arts tournament.

A forceful blow flew out. In response, Versophi narrowed his brows with a faint smile on his lips, then confidently shifted his grip on his sword.

Clang-!

The power in the vigorously swung sword was considerable, but if one could neutralize it, it became a different story. This means one must prepare to handle the risks if it fails, but since the range is so broad, it's a difficult thing to defend against.

That was the reason the guy was smiling. However, Gregory had already finished his calculations. He had determined from the start that results wouldn't come so easily if things went on like this. That's why he struck first.

'Injure the flesh to take the bone.'

This was Gregory's strategy.

First, present a gap. In that case, the opponent can't help but be tempted. Especially after such a provocation, one is likely to be deceived into thinking their defense worked.

As Gregory expected, Versophi broke through Gregory's attack. Durandal, which Gregory had swung, was pushed back with a shattering sound, repelled by Versophi's countermove.

Seizing that gap, Versophi quickly added a swift attack.

"You've been greatly overestimated. Sorry, but this is the end."

A stabbing attack aimed at the solar plexus. Gregory let out a hollow laugh.

"That's my line—you've been greatly overestimated. You seem calm, but you're hasty."

Versophi, feeling a sense of dissonance at Gregory's cocky attitude, twisted his sword and took a breakfall, then stood up.

Had he not done so, Gregory's immediately descending sword strike would have sent him crashing to the ground.

"Kh, did you anticipate this?"

"Anticipate? Isn't it too obvious? It's just a simple strategy."

Composure—words that only emerge if you're confident in your own skill. Most people, after failed attacks, make excuses that something went wrong or that they were simply unlucky.

'This guy... might be dangerous.'

It was impossible to see this as mere childish boldness. Versophi's eyes grew more intense.

"I wasn't planning to go this far... But I want to win that badly."

The already non-existent gaps became even more meticulously sealed. Versophi once more took his stance and stared at Gregory for a long while, waiting for his attack. As a result, Gregory couldn't help but grow impatient.

Normally, a child would have holes in their attack, whether it was a loose one or a tight one.

But such ironclad defense was troublesome to break through. In a way, it showed a thorough understanding of the martial arts tournament's rules—after all, there was no penalty for time limits.

In the end, he would have to spend time again looking for weaknesses.

He couldn't keep waiting like this. From the opponent's perspective, all he had to do was endure.

No matter if he won, the crucial thing was to show enough skill to win Radian's favor.

From Gregory's point of view, Versophi had chosen a rather unsportsmanlike method, but he had no choice but to take the risk.

'Fine... in that case—'

He would change the technique mid-attack, making it unorthodox, all in the blink of an eye.

Would Versophi just stand and watch this attack, or would he use psychological tactics to counterattack? Gregory could only assume he'd dodge since the approach would be threatening.

Either choose another method, or reuse a previous approach while engaging in mind games.

Gregory feigned a careless mistake with his first attack. This, too, he knew, would keep his opponent from moving.

"Do you think I can't break through such a simple trick...?"

"......."

As expected, Versophi didn't move an inch. Then came Gregory's barrage.

So far, the atmosphere of the match had been calm, so Versophi was now busy evading Gregory's suddenly aggressive approach.

Each time an attack swooped by, skimming his collar, it struck Versophi as a threat.

Judging he couldn't simply stand there and take it, Versophi decided to make a big movement to dodge the incoming attack.

However, in that moment, Gregory adjusted his posture and threw Durandal directly at Versophi.

Durandal spun rapidly and struck Versophi's right jaw squarely.

Thwack-!

A dull impact rang out.

"My judgment was not mistaken. I overestimated you."

"......."

Gregory knew better than anyone how dangerous it was to throw a sword. But he thought it was the only way to defeat his opponent—by using a technique he couldn't afford to in an ordinary situation.

It looked like he was acting on impulse and engaging in mind games, but he had calculated the next move—no, two moves ahead.

In reality, Versophi was in Gregory's grasp. This was a craftiness honed over many years of war.

In the end, the finish was somewhat childish.

Still, he figured that if the match dragged on, it would be evaluated as a close fight and both sides would be seen as equal. That's why he adopted this strategy.

If it was to win Radian's favor, he couldn't care less about honor—stopping the war was all that mattered.

Versophi lost consciousness, and the match ended on the spot. The assistant couldn't respond to the sword that flew in an instant and wrapped up the match in confusion.

"C-Contest over!! The participant can no longer fight, so the match is ended!"

After her urgent declaration, what followed was Radian's enthusiastic applause.

"Perfect, perfect. Down to the pettiness, all of it."

Radian's booming baritone spread throughout, and soon the nobles stood up, showering applause. It was clear none had ever seen such profound martial arts before.

Perhaps because the entire match had been one of deep swordplay, there was no one who criticized the final cheeky sword-throw.

Waaaah—!

'Whatever the case, a win is a win.'

***

With this, the martial arts tournament hosted by Radian drew to a close. As expected, Gregory emerged as the winner of the grand prize.

Second and third place received separate prizes, but the world only remembers first place. At the very least, he would be highly esteemed for the honor of victory.

Radian handed the prize to Gregory personally.

"My sincere congratulations. I enjoyed your spirited swordsmanship."

It was a luxury he wouldn't have enjoyed in ordinary times. For Radian to personally approach and offer a handshake along with a prize was an unprecedented event.

Gregory shook Radian's hand gladly, but he was filled with a deep anxiety inside.

That was because he knew that, at this rate, the war could not be prevented.

Winning the martial arts tournament—certainly a great achievement. But it was just an achievement. In fact, Hemingway had overlooked something.

It was true that participating in the tournament could stave off war. But only 'for a while'. Hemingway might think that even earning a little time was a great accomplishment.

But that's impossible everywhere. Prevent a war just because you won first prize in a martial arts tournament?

Absurd. Winning the tournament only gave him a single opportunity to speak with someone like Radian.

And if he missed this opportunity, both the Arme Kingdom and the Blandi Kingdom would reach catastrophe without even buying much time.

After the handshake, Gregory gazed steadily at Radian's face.

"Lord Radian, I fear I may be overstepping, but I have something to say."

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】