WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

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◈ Sword Master of the Fallen Kingdom

Chapter 94

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Proof of Blood (3)

The barbarian tribes of the duchy, including the Krakes Tribe, revered strength above all else. The weak were not respected as warriors of their clans.

Naturally, the Great Chieftain who led them was the strongest warrior.

Not a single defeat was permitted. He could not fear death, and he could not avoid it. Anyone who turned his back was branded a coward and usually spent the rest of his life shunned and scorned by the tribe.

That was exactly what Kyle was aiming for. A barbarian, especially the Great Chieftain who led them, could not refuse a challenge issued to his face.

Proof of Blood. Shurak, the sacred duel of the barbarian tribes.

Both sides fought with their terms at stake. It was also the core of Kyle's plan. If that barbarian named Zakan really was the Great Chieftain, he would accept no matter what. After all, he himself had killed two chieftains from other tribes through Shurak and risen to the seat of Great Chieftain.

Kyle's calm declaration of war rang softly through the fading echo of steel. It did not take long for the deathly still surroundings to grow noisy.

"Proof of Blood?"

"Madman."

"Did that bastard just dare challenge the Great Chieftain to Shurak?"

"A mercenary from the flatlands has lost his mind. How dare he speak of the Warrior's Covenant?"

As expected, the barbarians did not hide their displeasure. The barbarians on the ridge glared at Kyle and threw out remarks one after another.

Count Barkan, who had come out of the fortress, glanced at the barbarians and clicked his tongue inwardly. They clearly held the stronger position, yet the initiative was already slipping to the other side. He looked at the black-cloaked mercenary standing below the hill. With his sword planted point-first into the ground at his feet and his gaze lifted boldly upward, he looked calm, without the slightest tension or hesitation.

So that is him.

The one who cut down nearly a thousand barbarians and my soldiers.

Of course, he could not have done all of it alone, but there was no denying he had played a major part. The count's brow furrowed in displeasure.

"He used his head well. He struck right at the barbarians' customs."

The black-robed mage beside him let out a small sound of admiration.

"Even so, he is a madman. Petty tricks will not change the outcome of the battle."

The count spoke firmly. At present, the difference in troop numbers was at least threefold.

On top of that, the enemy should have been holed up inside the fortress for a defensive battle, yet they had stopped on the lower ground and were looking up at them. There were no notable terrain features like coniferous woods or a stream either, so all that remained was a straightforward frontal clash.

"Still, with this kind of numerical disadvantage, it is an extremely efficient method."

"A meaningless struggle."

"Hmm..."

"Does it look to you as if the Great Chieftain might lose?"

He knew the black-cloaked mercenary was strong. Otherwise, he would not have led the duchy's soldiers all the way here. But Count Barkan still did not know whether that strength was enough to overcome a numerical disadvantage of more than three to one and march onto such an unfavorable battlefield.

"Well."

The mage gave a vague answer.

"You are dodging the question. You mean you do not know?"

"There is no such thing as absolute certainty in this world, Count. Great Chieftain Zakan's skill is comparable to, or above, most Gold-rank Mercenaries, but as you know, victory or defeat in a duel to the death is not something that can be judged so cleanly."

"It sounds to me as if you are saying he could lose."

"Just as knights differ wildly in skill, there are clear differences in caliber even among Gold-rank Mercenaries. Even if Zakan's martial strength is a step above the capital knight order commander, the duchy's knight order is pitiful compared to Kirian and Brendel."

Before true knights, he would be nothing more than a barbarian from the mountains. The Empire's wyvern knights and the Federation's Chevaliers were like that, and so were the Knights of Ash, now vanished. All of them were monsters who could face hundreds of soldiers alone.

"Either way, this has become troublesome. For the sake of his standing within the tribe, Zakan will not be able to refuse that challenge. Shurak is held sacred to that degree."

As soon as the mage said that, Great Chieftain Zakan walked out beneath the barbarian banners. The surroundings fell quiet in an instant. The huge barbarian, nearly two meters tall, descended the entire ridge and stopped a short distance away from Kyle.

"What is your name, flatlander?"

"Kyle."

"I am Zakan, warrior of the Krakes Tribe and Great Chieftain who united the three tribes of this mountain. Do you know the meaning of Shurak and ask me for proof?"

"I do."

Kyle spoke in a dry voice. Zakan's mouth curved into a long smile.

"Good."

Zakan drew the two curved blades hanging at either side of his waist and, like Kyle, drove them point-first into the ground. The sharp twin blades sank smoothly into the dirt.

"State your conditions."

"You withdraw, I take the head of the traitor Count Barkan, and your life as well."

Great Chieftain Zakan and the traitor Count Barkan. If those two were gone, that army would lose its center and scatter. Kyle's goal of crossing the duchy could be achieved.

"Not difficult. Shurak does not end until one of the two dies. If I die, my tribe will not attack you. In exchange, what can you stake?"

"Everything."

Kyle answered at once, without the slightest hesitation. The smile on Zakan's lips deepened.

"I accept your challenge, flatlander."

Zakan gripped the hilts of the two curved blades he had driven into the ground. The moment the swords were pulled free, a thunderous cry unlike before erupted from every direction.

"Shurak! Shurak! Shurak!"

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

The atmosphere had changed completely. Rather than the taut tension right before battle, it held the heat of spectators gathering for a show. But to the soldiers in the convoy, the echoing sound was nothing short of chilling. The mercenaries and merchants of the Silas Trade Company were even worse. Some curled up outright and trembled.

Before drawing his sword for the last time, Kyle looked back. At the very rear of the line, Jade and Elysia were peeking out and staring straight at him.

Are you really doing this alone?

Jade asked with the shape of his mouth. Like Kyle, he looked calm, without any sign of nervousness.

No need for two of us to step out.

Kyle gave a faint smirk and looked past him. Elysia's eyes were steady as always as she gave him a small look. It was as if she were offering a simple greeting. But the trust inside it was firm. It had been that way ever since the wyvern knights died.

At least until Renavik, where the Federal Assembly is.

Kyle gave a small nod, then looked ahead again. A little distance away, a two-meter giant stood waiting for him, holding long curved blades in both hands.

"Right."

Kyle slowly pulled up the sword he had planted in the ground. The star iron blade shone brightly in the sunset light.

Fine grains of dirt fell from beneath it. A wind blew, and the yellow field rippled in small waves. Through the sound of waves filling his ears came the hoarse cries of nutcrackers. Caw, caw. Everything turned hazy, like a dream.

Kyle lifted his gaze along with the rising sword. Across the silence that had returned once more, Zakan took his stance.

A duel of barbarians.

From the start, Kyle had never thought he would lose. He was only curious. Aside from simply crossing the duchy, there was something he wanted to confirm.

How much have I changed?

After killing the two wyvern knights and completing his personal magic, Kyle felt a faint change in his senses. At a glance, he did not seem so different from before, yet strangely, whenever he drew up mana, his heart pounded hard. The way he handled mana had changed slightly from before.

Faster, more accurate, more precise.

For more than three years, ever since he had lost everything, he had only ever regressed. Because of that, he had never imagined he could move forward. He had thought he could no longer grow.

Looking back, Rowen, the former Commander, had said that the moment one completed either a personal sword form or personal magic, the way one saw the world would change. Back then, Kyle had dismissed it as vague nonsense. Experiencing it now, he knew it was not. Rowen had been right.

So this is what you meant, Rowen.

I think I understand now.

Saaaaa-

The wind blew again. Listening to the swaying sound of waves, Kyle slowly lowered his sword into his grip.

His mana-enhanced senses sharpened to an extreme. Everything around him came into focus so clearly it felt as if he could grasp it in his hand. Kyle rotated mana through his entire body and slowly extended the foot that had been still.

He lowered his upper body, ready to spring forward at any moment.

Then.

Thud!

He kicked off the ground hard. Between the scattering clods of dirt, the sunset-stained blade rushed forward at high speed. Before anyone knew it, Kyle had reached Zakan's nose. Kyle's sword was faster than the blink of an eye.

Asherad Royal Swordsmanship, First Form.

Rising Flame.

Fwoosh!

White Sword Aura rose over the orange blade. It was a strike adapted from the First Form of royal swordsmanship, a draw-cut technique. Zakan reacted a beat late. His curved blade rose belatedly, carrying crimson Sword Aura.

From below to above. Red light curved upward as if to block the pure-white sword. But he had not fully coated the blade in Sword Aura. Kyle's first move was faster, and Zakan's reaction was slower.

Clang!

The curved blade in Zakan's right hand split in two with a sharp metallic ring. In the slowed flow of perceived time, Zakan's eyes widened in shock.

Kyle drove his sword between the broken fragments. Zakan stepped back and swung the remaining sword in his left hand. Kyle fiercely pressed Zakan, who had shifted into a defensive stance. Red light and white light tangled together. The metallic crashes that rang out one after another struck the eardrums without mercy.

The wyvern knight's sword had been incomparably faster than this. Incomparably stronger than this.

Have I grown stronger, or is my opponent weak?

Or both?

Thuk!

A moment passed. Yet after dozens of exchanges, the white blade pierced the pit of the two-meter barbarian's stomach. Even after the sound of sword striking sword vanished, the voices of the people did not return. Only silence filled the field.

"Kuhuk!"

Zakan spat blood. The red light vanished from the curved blade in his left hand. Beneath his loosening grip, the last remaining curved blade fell uselessly to the ground. As he looked down at Kyle, who was shorter than him, his eyes were filled with disbelief, as if he could not accept reality.

"How...?"

Zakan asked in a trembling voice.

"You are..."

He kept vomiting blood. When the coughing subsided, Zakan asked again.

"What... is your name?"

"Kyle."

"Your true name...?"

"Kyle Baldrick."

Kyle whispered quietly by Zakan's ear. Zakan's eyes shook violently.

"Hailen..."

But only for a moment. Zakan's eyes sank deeply. He looked down at his now-empty hands. With the pit of his stomach pierced and even his last sword lost, the outcome had already been decided.

"Magn... ificent..."

Zakan forced his unmoving lips to twist.

"You... won..."

Slaaash!

Kyle pulled the sword embedded in Zakan's chest free. Zakan dropped helplessly to his knees, and after several breaths, drove his head into the blood-soaked ground beneath him. Thick silence still filled every direction. Kyle looked down at Zakan's corpse for a moment, then lifted his head.

"This... this is absurd..."

The count flinched when his eyes met Kyle's. The black eyes of the mercenary who had killed Zakan in under a minute were staring straight at him. The surrounding mood was the same. The barbarians stood frozen, the complete opposite of how they had been moments earlier. The soldiers under him were the same.

The conditions Kyle had set for the duel were three.

First, Zakan's life. Second, the barbarians' retreat.

The final third was...

"Shoot! Shoot him!"

The count screamed at the top of his lungs. The count's frozen soldiers looked at him with startled eyes.

"That is an order! Attack! Kill them all! I said leave not a single one alive!"

By then, arrows were already flying from the convoy below the ridge.

The soldiers came to their senses too late and began falling one by one with arrows in their bodies.

That marked the sudden start of battle. The count's troops who had left the fortress, the convoy's forces, and even a few barbarians who had lost their minds at the sight of Zakan's death were dragged into the fight.

Leaving Zakan's corpse behind, Kyle sprinted up toward the ridge where the count stood. He was not worried about the rear, since Jade and Elysia were there.

Just then, mounted cavalry were coming down through the rain of arrows pouring from the archers.

Kyle cut down every one of those cavalrymen and pushed mana into the ring. His already swift speed gained another layer of acceleration. By the time he came to himself, Kyle had reached the top of the ridge where the count's banner stood.

"You bastard!"

The black-robed mage stretched a hand toward Kyle as if he had been waiting. A brief shortened incantation sounded, and bright-red flames poured toward Kyle. Heat that felt as if it would cook his skin rushed in.

Considerable fire-attribute magic. Not a mercenary, but a mage from a Magic Tower?

He did not dodge. He threw himself straight into the flames. While everyone failed to understand that action, the flames split sharply to both sides. Sword wind stretched out in every direction and slaughtered the surrounding soldiers. Along with his fluttering black cloak, Kyle's star iron blade passed through the mage's neck.

Spurt!

A fountain of blood burst out. The mage could not react. His head, eyes blank, rolled across the ground.

"S-Spare..."

Thuk!

Kyle stabbed the nearby count through the neck without delay. The count, eyes bulging, choked a couple of times, then let his head droop with lifeless eyes. Kyle cleanly cut off the dead count's head.

When he skewered it on his blade and raised it above his head, everyone stopped fighting and looked at Kyle as if they had agreed to do so.

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