In war, the value of a sorcerer far surpasses that of a knight. If a knight is the flower of the battlefield, then a sorcerer is its god.
A powerful firepower capable of attacking enemies unilaterally from afar. If magic were a discipline anyone could easily learn, the face of war would have changed to one where people hide beneath fortifications or trenches, firing spells like mad.
This condition doesn’t change even upon reaching the Master level; an Oramancer is treated with more respect than an Aura Master.
“Finally showing yourself, Your Grace.”
“Damn you, Chantalka…”
However, that was only within the realm of ‘war.’ In the domain of combat and tactics, a sorcerer could never defeat a knight.
The reason barbarians couldn’t capture the Great Wall of the North guarded by the Duke, a Master-level sorcerer, wasn’t because he personally wiped them out but because he kept casting spells from atop the wall.
In terms of war, the Duke’s side had the advantage due to their many sorcerers, but in direct combat…
“Now I can finally end this wretched war. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Aura Master. The barbarians, who possess great warriors, cannot be defeated. Recently, Chantalka had been unseen, and seeing Kail appear, who should’ve been at the central command, startled him into making a mistake.
The Duke stared at Chantalka with a hardened expression.
“Damn barbarian brat.”
“Hahaha! Yes, are you ready to be trampled by these barbarians?”
Sleung—Chantalka drew his sword from his waist. It wasn’t made of steel but crafted from the bones of monsters beyond the North.
Though not particularly sharp as it was made of bone, it didn’t matter much to an Aura Master. Nothing could withstand the cutting power of an Aura Blade.
Whoosh! A brilliant white aura flared up like flames. As the Duke sensed his death approaching and bit his lip, Kail stepped forward.
“You.”
“Your Grace, is there… any way to stop that?”
“…The only thing that can block an Aura Blade is another Aura Blade.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
If the Duke had a way to block the Aura Blade, together they might have repelled him.
They were right in front of the Great Wall, and a little further up, escape was possible.
But without a means to block the Aura Blade—unfortunately…
“Go first, Your Grace.”
“What do you mean—”
“It’s better for one to die than both. Even if I die, if Your Grace survives, you can stop him. But if Your Grace dies, everyone inside this Great Wall will perish.”
Rationally and logically thinking—here, his sacrifice was correct.
However, the Duke didn’t share that thought, his expression remained rigid, and he didn’t rise from his spot.
“Hurry!”
When Kail shouted, the Duke finally began to move. Seeing this, Chantalka snorted derisively.
“Do you think I’ll let you go?”
At this moment, Chantalka charged towards the Duke, paying no mind to Kail. He believed an Expert-level knight couldn’t harm him, not being an Aura Master.
Indeed, an Aura Master’s body naturally exuded aura with every breath, possessing enough resilience to laugh off an Expert’s strikes.
He could intentionally emit aura to block stronger attacks. However, it seemed he wasn’t wasting aura before his fight with the Duke.
‘I can do this.’
Kail picked up a rolling sword from the ground, stepped in front of Chantalka, and brought his sword against Chantalka’s blade.
Though imbued with aura, it couldn’t withstand the Aura Blade and began to slice apart instantly.
However, the Aura Blade had a structural weakness.
“Hup-!”
Kail flattened the half-sliced sword and aimed for the flat side of Chantalka’s blade. Unlike the cutting edge shrouded in the Aura Blade, the flat side had no cutting power.
If Chantalka had emitted aura generously, it could burn anything it touched, but he didn’t waste his aura.
Pressing the half-sliced sword against the flat side of Chantalka’s blade, Kail pushed it aside with force.
“Oh?”
Just a slight twist. That slight deflection was enough. Chantalka’s sword missed the Duke, and the brief opening allowed the Duke to leap into the sky and land atop the Great Wall.
Even the greatest Aura Master wouldn’t chase a sorcerer risen into the sky—it would only result in getting hit unilaterally.
Having lost the Duke thanks to a mere knight he underestimated, Chantalka burst into laughter.
“How amusing. How very amusing.”
After laughing heartily, Chantalka suddenly wiped the smile off his face and glared fiercely at Kail.
“The world doesn’t bend to my will… especially not to some brat like you.”
The next moment, Kail felt an impact as if hit by a truck and was sent flying far away. His insides felt like they were bursting, and bleach-like pain surged through his head as blood spurted out in gushes.
After rolling on the ground for a while, Kail struggled to regain his balance and stood up. Just as he rose, Chantalka appeared before him.
“This perfect opportunity…”
Swish!
A sword came flying. Reflexively, Kail raised his sword to block the strike. But as if anticipating it, Chantalka immediately shifted his trajectory and struck Kail’s thigh hard.
A dull pain shot through him, and Kail fell to one knee. Another intense blow followed, hitting his abdomen.
‘Shit, I’m going to die…’
It felt like being turned into a soccer ball—kicked, slashed, sliced—
Each attack wasn’t meant to kill but to torment. Indirectly, Kail could feel Chantalka’s anger over losing the Duke.
“Cough!”
Kicked and sent flying far away, Kail vomited pieces of his innards as he struggled to stand. Had he lost too much blood? His vision swirled dizzyingly.
His sight blurred, unable to focus. Blinking rapidly, Kail saw the blade swinging toward his head.
‘—No.’
What saved Kail from certain death was none other than the swordsmanship he’d honed throughout his life. Letting the non-aura-infused sword flow naturally, he raised it in the same motion.
Ma Eui Shik Fourth Form: Imperial Strike.
The strike that forces everything in the world to kneel crashed down. Chantalka, receiving the Imperial Strike, exclaimed in admiration as he looked at Kail.
“Ho—what an interesting technique you use.”
Lifting his sword above his head, Chantalka smirked and swung down just as Kail had done.
“Is this how it’s done?”
False Imperial Strike.
An exact replica of what Kail used, yet even more menacing, crashing down on Kail. Unlike Kail, who could barely use it once before running out of strength, Chantalka, a Master, continued to swing down repeatedly.
Bang! Bang! Shockwaves that felt like they’d break his arms poured down relentlessly.
“Do you think such tricks would work on a Master?”
Chantalka spoke, looking at Kail trembling uncontrollably. A body on the verge of death, yet eyes still refusing to give up met his gaze.
Had they been born in the same tribe—or even the same race—Chantalka might have taken Kail in as his adopted son.
“These secret techniques you call Eightfold Art… to warriors who’ve reached the Master level, they’re nothing but ordinary strikes.”
Eightfold Art refers to the best sword techniques infused with aura.
But does a true Master really need Eightfold Art?
Any random swing of a sword becomes Eightfold Art.
Thus, Eightfold Art is merely a technique created by commoners trying to mimic Masters.
“What a pity. If you had been born with my blood, our tribe would have gained another grand warrior.”
So saying, Chantalka lifted his sword. Having played with him enough, it was time to finish him off and leave.
Whoosh! An aura flared around the sword made of beast bones. Ready to ensure Kail’s death, Chantalka asked,
“Any last words?”
“…”
Despite Chantalka’s question, Kail silently stared blankly into the air. Thinking perhaps he’d gone mad from the beating, Chantalka scratched his cheek.
Kail wasn’t in any state to care about the warrior before him. It wasn’t his physical condition—the problem lay in his mental state.
“—Ordinary strikes for Masters?”
Earlier, Chantalka’s words as a Master hinted at something. A strong realization exploded in Kail’s mind.
Why are Aura Masters also Sword Saints? Why train in swordsmanship unnecessarily when extracting aura externally suffices?
The answer opened now.
“No last words, I see.”
As Chantalka swung his aura-infused sword down—Kail still muttered something under his breath, staring at the ground.
Disappointed that such a fine warrior’s end was so pathetic, an ice spear flew from afar and knocked Chantalka’s sword away.
“—Duke!”
Only one sorcerer on this land could repel his sword—the Duke himself. Realizing this, Chantalka swiftly looked up at the Great Wall.
The Duke, who had just climbed atop the wall, was flying back to save Kail’s life.
‘How stubborn.’
Leaving Kail behind, Chantalka walked towards the Duke. He didn’t think the dying knight could interfere again.
Anyway, left alone, he would die soon. Feeling a spine-chilling premonition, Chantalka quickly dodged to the side.
“—What.”
Turning back in shock, Chantalka saw Kail, whom he had reduced to a rag, standing.
Regardless of how he could even stand in that condition, the aura emanating from him was extraordinary.
“…Master is.”
“What?”
“Why is an Aura Master a Sword Saint?”
Whoosh!
An aura erupted from Kail’s sword.
Seeing this, Chantalka’s eyes gleamed.
“I’ve found the answer.”
“Haha, hahaha—!”
Chantalka burst into hearty laughter, gripping his sword tightly while facing the grand warrior before him. Ahead was a grand warrior equal to him, and behind—a grand sorcerer capable of killing him.
In short, checkmate.
“I might be able to take one down.”
So saying, Chantalka rushed towards Kail. Immediately, their swords clashed.
