WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Oblivious

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◈ Prince of Rage ◈

Chapter 9

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Swordsmanship was a basic accomplishment for nobles. They might go without learning to read, but they all learned swordsmanship.

Even commoners often learned it as self-defense, so they could at least protect themselves when travelling or dealing with important matters.

Moreover, swords were convenient to wear and served as tools that displayed one’s status, which made them popular weapons.

One misconception about swords was that they were useless in battle because they broke or bent easily. That was half true and half false.

A dense formation armed with shields and swords was more mobile than a dense spear formation, making it tactically useful.

Indeed, the shield wall, a formation armed with swords and shields, had been one of the Norsemen’s primary tactics from before the War of Conquest until now.

Of course, they did not always use swords. They also used various close-range weapons, such as axes and short spears.

Since the quality of iron products varied greatly, swords made from fine iron by skilled craftsmen could easily split practically any helmet.

The famed Ulfberht blades and dwarven steel swords were known for cutting through iron as though it were cheese.

Naturally, not every sword was made from fine iron by a skilled craftsman, so ordinary swords could easily break or bend if used improperly.

But learning the proper ways to use them and honing one’s technique to overcome those weaknesses was precisely what swordsmanship was.

Spears, axes, and hammers were also powerful weapons, but they were restricted by place and circumstance.

Spears were disadvantageous in confined spaces and difficult to use against several opponents, while axes and hammers could deliver powerful blows but lacked thrusting attacks, limiting their uses.

In the end, any weapon could be powerful or reveal its weaknesses depending on how it was used, where it was used, and under what circumstances.

Once one reached a certain level in swordsmanship, it could be applied in many places and situations. In other words, compared to other weapons, swords were useful in a wider range of situations.

Those who devoted themselves to studying swordsmanship were called swordsmanship masters.

Knights constantly trained their bodies and learned various weapon arts and combat techniques to distinguish themselves on actual battlefields. Swordsmanship masters, meanwhile, focused only on the sword itself and had something of a scholarly side.

Of course, some swordsmanship masters actively participated in battle, but that was generally not the case.

Gale, the envoy sent by Duke Sven, was not someone who took part in battle.

Gale had earned a reputation teaching swords to fighters in merchant companies as a swordsmanship instructor, or through guarding important figures.

Gale had supposedly cut down ten bandits. Depending on how one looked at it, that was either impressive or nothing remarkable.

But Gale seemed quite proud of it, judging by his rigid posture alone.

Standing in the training yard, Gale held his back straight as a fir tree, with one hand behind his back and a practice sword in the other.

Gidwin stood opposite him, holding a practice sword and shield. He was about the same height as Gale, but much larger.

Several people watched their standoff from the edge of the training yard: Count Aethelred, two knights, Valerie, Harald, Tommy, and Hakon. Even the servants peered from afar, watching with wide eyes.

Then Gidwin threw away his shield. Gale spoke at the sight.

“What does that mean?”

“Since you are not carrying a shield, it would not be fair otherwise.”

Gale gave a contemptuous little laugh.

“As you wish.”

At that, Gidwin bent his upper body slightly, taking a stance as though he might charge in barehanded. He held his sword in one hand, since its hilt was made for one-handed use.

Gidwin was the first to close the distance. He did not rush recklessly into range, instead measuring the distance cautiously as though hesitating.

Then he feinted with his left foot before circling right. Since he held his sword in his right hand, it was a move intended to exploit Gale’s blind side.

Gidwin swung his sword from right to left. Gale leaned his upper body back slightly and avoided it. As Gidwin drew back his sword, he rammed into Gale with his body.

With the difference in their size, Gidwin seemed likely to win if it came to close combat.

But Gale did not simply take it. Stepping aside just enough to evade him, Gale jabbed Gidwin’s side with the practice sword.

“Ghk!”

Pain shot through him as though all strength had drained from his legs, but Gidwin reached out to seize Gale’s arm. His hand only cut helplessly through empty air.

His failed attempt came at a price. Gale’s sword struck hard across Gidwin’s neck.

The practice sword had no edge, but it was still made of metal. Gidwin’s neck was scraped so badly that it nearly felt burned.

“Urgh!”

Gidwin squeezed his eyes shut from the dizzying pain. But when he opened them again, his eyes burned as though he would charge in desperately.

“Enough.”

His father Norman’s voice rang out. Norman spoke bluntly.

“You lost, Gidwin.”

There was no particular disappointment in those words. But the simple truth hurt more than disappointment could.

It was his father’s command, so Gidwin had no choice but to swallow his frustration. Yet Gale only fanned the flames.

“An offensive that relies on strength is not necessarily bad. But it is meaningless if it can be avoided. Strength alone cannot overcome skill, and skill alone cannot overcome superior strength. Again, superior strength cannot defeat refined technique, and refined technique is powerless before overwhelming strength. In the end, one must cultivate both strength and skill evenly.”

It was not exactly wrong, but the way Gale prattled on as though he were some great teacher was irritating.

It was an instructional bout, so perhaps Gale had the right to say something. Still, there were times in life when one did not want to hear even words that were right.

“Next.”

Gale spoke, swinging the sword twice through the air.

Tommy stepped forward next. Unfortunately, after seeing Gidwin defeated so easily, there was little more to see from Tommy.

As expected, Tommy was beaten so miserably that it was almost embarrassing to describe.

The knight Tommy served did not seem especially disappointed or angry, as though no great expectations had been held from the beginning.

Gale glanced toward Harald, then looked to Count Aethelred as though seeking permission.

This was an occasion to test talent. In truth, it would be meaningless if the count’s son was not tested.

Count Aethelred looked at his son. On the surface, it was an indifferent gaze. Yet it seemed to say without words that Harald could choose whether to step forward or back away.

Unexpectedly, Harald stepped forward without hesitation. Seeing his friends thoroughly beaten should have intimidated him, but he showed no sign of that. Rather, he glared at Gale as though quietly angry.

Harald could be immature and innocent at times, but he was no coward.

Count Aethelred was secretly pleased and proud of his son. It was fine if Harald lacked some skill. But he could not be a coward.

Still, from Gale’s cold assessment, Harald looked even worse than the first two. It was obvious from the way he stood.

“I shall yield the first strike, Young Master.”

Harald gripped a greatsword practice blade in both hands and quickly closed the distance.

He seemed to stop at a proper range, then spun the sword over his head and slashed diagonally as though drawing it in with centrifugal force. Making use of centrifugal force was fundamental when handling a large weapon, and Harald was skilled enough at least to do that.

However, the attack was not particularly fast, so Gale easily avoided it with a single step backward.

As though he had expected that much, Harald continued his steps smoothly, striking from the opposite side before crossing his arms and immediately attacking from the other side again.

Before the sword could properly carry its force, however, Gale stepped in slightly and deliberately took the blow.

“Oh dear.”

It was a perfect opportunity for Harald to seize victory. If he had been somewhat larger, he could have gone into close combat or taken Gale’s blind side.

Instead, Gale closed in even further and used a sudden burst of strength to press down on the base of Harald’s sword. Harald dropped the sword from his hand.

Clang!

It had nothing to do with Harald’s will. Gale had used timing and leverage precisely. Honestly, Gale’s swordsmanship was impressive.

Gale gently caught Harald before his posture collapsed.

“Magnificent, Young Master. I believe I have learned something from you instead. However, distance is important when handling a greatsword. You should always be prepared for close range.”

It was almost like a sparring match staged to flatter Harald. But upon reflection, there was a reason Gale deliberately praised him. Harald’s talent had to stand out for Gale to have a pretext to take him away.

Gale could not take Harald away today, but could report to Duke Sven that Harald’s talent was exceptional. That was how one built a justification, piece by piece.

Ultimately, what mattered was not each person’s true skill, but how the evaluator chose to judge it. That was Gale’s aim.

“Thank you. I lost.”

Harald shook off Gale’s hand as though uncomfortable with it, but still spoke with the courtesy expected of a noble. He was humiliated, so much so that even the injured Gidwin and Tommy looked at him with concern.

Gale remained in the training yard with a satisfied smile. Everyone from the House of Winslow wore unpleasant expressions.

Whatever conspiracy lurked beneath the surface, they had failed to show anything properly. Simply put, their pride had been wounded.

“I hear this house’s illegitimate child has become quite well known.”

Gale spoke, and everyone turned to Valerie.

But Valerie stood still with his head slightly lowered, as though lost in thoughts of his own.

Just when it seemed someone should wake him from his thoughts, Valerie stepped forward holding the greatsword practice blade Harald had used.

Gale’s eyes gleamed for an instant upon seeing Valerie. It was not easy to kill someone with a practice sword, but someone as skilled as Gale could certainly do it.

Moreover, it could be disguised as an unavoidable accident. With the justification of an instructional bout and an accident to conceal it, the duke would surely defend Gale and grant a reward.

The recent kidnapping plan at the horse market had fallen apart because of the illegitimate child, and if Valerie’s skill proved exceptional, taking Harald under that pretext would remain a distant prospect.

If the illegitimate child was the most talented, crushing him completely or simply killing him would make it easier to carry out the plan.

As a vision of advancement formed in Gale’s mind, a satisfied smile appeared without him realizing it.

Valerie quietly looked at Gale. He was neither glaring nor frightened. Yet something about that gaze made Gale feel an inexplicable discomfort.

What was this feeling?

Perhaps to shake off that unpleasant feeling, Gale turned to Count Aethelred and spoke somewhat rudely.

“It seems heroes attract beautiful women. Or perhaps even Your Excellency found it difficult to restrain yourself.”

It was a low provocation, aimed at Valerie’s handsome face.

Yet because it sounded like a compliment on the surface, it was difficult to find fault with. Fortunately, Count Aethelred was not someone who would react to such low provocation. He responded by simply ignoring it.

Valerie did the same, but unlike the count, he did not let it pass.

“Shall I slice off that cumbersome big nose, or blind those pathetic little eyes?”

Gale looked quietly at Valerie, then laughed as though it were absurd.

“...Hah. Still a child.”

“If they are cumbersome and pathetic, then it would make sense to remove them.”

“Very well.”

“I will yield the first strike. Swing as freely as you wish.”

Valerie immediately closed the distance. Then he swung his sword. It was neither especially fast nor slow.

Gale first retreated, intending to assess Valerie’s swordsmanship. Gale could not kill him openly and needed to make it look plausible.

But Valerie pressed in even closer. From Gale’s position, it became difficult to retreat or evade any further, and Gale had no choice but to respond.

So Gale swung the sword as though shaking Valerie off, aiming for his wrist. Gale thought that even if Valerie blocked it, Gale’s relatively shorter sword would have the advantage at this distance.

But Valerie grabbed the blade of the greatsword and used it like a stick to knock Gale’s sword aside.

Clang!

The arm holding Gale’s sword was flung high into the air. In that instant, Gale realized something had gone wrong.

Regardless, Valerie used the technique called half-swording to wield the greatsword like a short spear, pressing Gale hard.

Something chilling brushed past Gale’s chest. At last, his rigid posture loosened, and Gale spread his feet wide to take a proper stance.

Gale moved to the side to escape the pressure. Then, as though by some ghostly trick, Valerie vanished from sight.

What?

At that very moment, something swept up from below directly before Gale’s face.

With a thud, something seemed to hit the ground. Before Gale even felt the cut, a great quantity of liquid ran into his mouth.

With the thought that it could not be, Gale’s heart sank, and his eyes flew open. Gale hurriedly searched for Valerie, but suddenly a flash burst before his eyes.

Immediately after the blinding flash came darkness, along with a pain in both eyes as though they were being seared with a red-hot iron.

“Aaaaaaaaaah!”

A scream burst out. Gale dropped the sword and collapsed to his knees. With trembling hands, Gale touched his eyes and nose.

The nose was gone.

Blood mixed with other fluid poured from the gaping hole. Gale could feel it at his fingertips.

“Uuuh...”

Gale could only tremble in the utterly hopeless situation, while Valerie looked down with cold, merciless eyes.

“I thank you for your devoted instructional bout, undertaken at the cost of both eyes and your nose.”

Then Valerie threw the greatsword practice blade onto the ground and simply left the training yard.

Clang!

No one spoke in their shock. In particular, the two knights who had watched the instructional bout with their arms folded and expressionless faces slowly lowered their arms, looking somewhat dazed.

Count Aethelred had only heard about Valerie until now. Seeing Valerie’s skill with his own eyes left him even more unable to believe it.

It was clearly a blunted practice sword.

This went beyond whether someone had talent or not.

The count’s emotions had first been surprise and shock, but as time passed, they gradually turned into fear.

The root of that fear was Valerie’s shocking skill, but also something beyond rational understanding, something close to fear of the unknown.

“Uuuugh...”

As everyone stood speechless, only Gale’s whimpering groans filled the training yard.

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