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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Lord Fourth
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“I apologize. I didn’t expect it to turn out like this.”
Alberich said, bowing his head.
I scratched the back of my head, looking at the massive crowd surrounding the training grounds. I had a feeling this would happen.
“We can still cancel the spar if you’re not comfortable with this.”
“Well, it’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”
The milk was already spilled. I had no choice but to win.
“Just make sure the family vault is ready.”
“…Haha. I look forward to it.”
Alberich chuckled, seemingly pleased with my response, and pulled out a sword.
A simple sword with no crossguard. But it was one of Olman’s masterpieces, comparable to the holy sword I was wielding.
“The rules are simple. Sword aura is allowed, but no killing. Well, accidents happen. A lost limb or two is acceptable.”
“Ophelia’s here, after all.”
“Indeed.”
I looked towards the stands and saw Ophelia, looking rather uncomfortable. She probably hadn’t expected this much attention.
“Everything else is allowed. Any objections?”
“None.”
So, any dirty tricks were fair game. And the fact that only sword aura was allowed meant Alberich wouldn’t be using his signature Aura Blade.
The rules were in my favor. He was probably going easy on me.
“One last thing.”
“Yes?”
“Marks?”
He asked the most important question, and Alberich grinned.
“Of course. This is a mock battle between the Sword Saint and the hero. We have to compare the power of our Marks.”
“Good.”
It was settled. The first move was important. I charged forward and…
…
…threw a handful of sand in his face. The crowd gasped.
“Th-this… this crazy bastard…”
Ophelia had told him to win by any means necessary. But she hadn’t meant… this.
Ophelia wiped the sweat from her palms and muttered, “Is this… really the hero?”
Elliot’s fighting style was dirty. He threw sand, and if he found a rock, he threw that too. Blinding your opponent and attacking wasn’t something a knight would do. But Elliot didn’t care.
He tripped Alberich, used his elbows, and even aimed for the groin. Ophelia had seen several kicks flying towards Alberich’s crotch in the short time they had been fighting.
Alberich, on the other hand, was deflecting all of Elliot’s attacks with just his sword.
“…Hmm.”
She didn’t think Elliot was weaker than Alberich, though. Every clash of their swords sent shockwaves through the air.
Their sword auras were brighter and more powerful than any she had ever seen, far surpassing those of Benedict and Rowan.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Their swords clashed repeatedly. Elliot tried to punch Alberich, but Alberich’s movements were fluid, almost acrobatic, evading Elliot’s attacks with minimal effort.
Ophelia, after years of swordsmanship training, had developed a discerning eye. Alberich’s swordsmanship was flawless.
His perfect technique neutralized Elliot’s unorthodox tactics.
“As expected of the Sword Saint. Impressive.”
“W-when did you get here?”
“Ahaha. You’re quite the prankster. I’ve been here since the beginning.”
Ured, the Inquisitor, his body covered in bandages, was sitting beside Ophelia, watching the spar.
Ophelia, glancing at Ured, spoke hesitantly, “You’re pretty strong yourself.”
“Indeed.”
During their training sessions, Ophelia had been able to overpower Ured because he focused on using divine magic. But in a real fight, Ured was a formidable opponent.
He had lost to Rowan, the Cathedral Knight, only because they were aiming for capture, not to kill. An Inquisitor’s training focused on killing, not subduing.
“Who do you think will win?”
“Can I be honest?”
“Yes.”
“I bet ninety percent of my fortune on the Sword Saint.”
“You bastard!”
Ophelia raised her fist, and Ured flinched, as if instinctively afraid of her.
“N-no! Saintess, think about it! If the Sword Saint wins, I’ll make a lot of money! But if the hero wins, I’ll lose a fortune!”
“Obviously.”
“Think about it. The hero is a warrior chosen by God. If the hero wins and I lose money, it’s like donating to God.”
“….”
Ured grinned and winked. Ophelia punched him in the face.
Clang! Their swords clashed. Elliot twisted his sword, trying to use the recoil to his advantage. Alberich saw through his tactic and pulled back.
Elliot threw a punch, but Alberich dodged it, tilting his head back.
Shing!
Alberich’s sword moved smoothly, outside Elliot’s range.
“Damn. You’re slippery.”
“Should I take that as a compliment?”
“Yes. A high compliment.”
Alberich smiled faintly at Elliot’s words. The fight had been going on for several minutes, and neither of them had landed a decisive blow. But while Elliot was showing signs of fatigue, Alberich’s breathing was even.
He was clearly the more skilled swordsman. But neither of them had revealed their full strength.
“Impressive. I’ve rarely encountered such an unorthodox style.”
Alberich said, genuinely impressed. Elliot was worthy of the title “hero.” They both used one-handed swords, but fighting Elliot was more challenging than fighting other swordsmen.
His left hand, which wasn’t holding a sword… He used it to throw sand, to punch, and even to grab Alberich’s clothes, attempting to grapple. Alberich didn’t think it was cowardly.
Using every available tactic was natural in a real fight. Elliot’s use of his left hand and his footwork was impressive, even to Alberich, a master swordsman. Elliot was a warrior before he was a swordsman. He was using his entire body.
“And that sword… is it Olman’s work?”
“Glad you recognize it.”
“Mine is as well.”
Alberich recognized the sword Elliot was wielding. The weight of their clashes, the power behind Elliot’s attacks… it was Olman’s craftsmanship.
“What’s its name?”
“The holy sword.”
“A fitting name.”
Alberich looked towards the stands, seeing the expectant gazes of the crowd.
“I think it’s time to move on to the next stage. What do you think?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Elliot, seemingly agreeing, lowered his stance. The Hero’s Mark on his hand began to glow. Until now, it had been a battle of pure swordsmanship and physical ability.
Now, it was time to compare the power of their Marks.
Alberich activated his Mark as well. The blue sword aura flickering around his blade subsided, replaced by a transparent shimmer.
“Do you know about my Mark?”
“The Sword God’s Mark.”
“Glad you’re familiar with it.”
The Sword God’s Mark. Bestowed upon the most skilled swordsman in the Empire, it gave its bearer an overwhelming advantage in sword-on-sword combat.
“Can you handle it?”
“I wouldn’t have accepted this spar if I couldn’t.”
Elliot took a deep breath. Heat waves shimmered around him.
‘…The Hero’s Mark.’
Alberich knew about it. A massive boost to all physical abilities. A power that allowed humans to challenge even the gods.
‘I see.’
Seeing it in action, he understood. Elliot’s aura was completely different now. A surge of competitiveness welled up within him. Alberich smiled. And then…
BOOM!
A sound like an explosion, and Elliot was suddenly upon him. He swung his sword. Alberich couldn’t block it directly. Only Azar, the Golden Lion, or the captain of the Ice Palace Guard could withstand such a blow.
Alberich wasn’t a power-based fighter. So, he simply… inserted his sword, shimmering with a transparent light, into Elliot’s attack’s path.
Bang!
The air exploded. Elliot’s sword passed harmlessly through Alberich’s.
“…Tsk.”
If their swords had clashed directly, his sword might have broken. But Alberich’s sword had passed through Elliot’s attack. The effect of the Sword God’s Mark…
“Phase Shift, just as I thought, that skill is broken.” (TL: Broken as in strong/overpowered.)
“Haha. Just like yours.”
Alberich grinned. His sword had transformed into a long, curved blade.
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Hi Lord Fourth here!
I’m still new to translating as this is my second novel to pick up, so if you find some mistakes or inconsistencies let me know about it on the dedicated channel on discord.
