The girl stood with her back to the night.
The midnight forest was quiet. It was a place devoid of visitors, except for lovers sharing secret meetings. Only the occasional mysterious whisper hinted at the presence of life.
Even that was shattered by the cries of howling birds.
What settled in the clearing of the forest was ultimately silence.
It was a splendid condition to collect my thoughts and focus on my sword.
I was savoring the sensation of gripping the wooden sword after a long time.
It felt cold and smooth.
After swinging it several times in trial, a lightness was conveyed through its weight. It was a sensation that could not be mimicked with a metal sword.
How long had it been since I was freed from such heavy weight?
I couldn’t even grasp it.
Throughout all the battles I had endured, there was no practice to speak of.
Every struggle had been a real fight.
I had no leisure to casually hold a wooden sword.
In my hand, there was always a blade, and for several months, I had fought for victory, spilling blood and flesh. I had learned the weight of life with a true sword.
So, the light sensation of the wooden sword felt exceptionally satisfying.
It had been a long time since I approached battle unburdened.
The last sparring might have been just before the homecoming ceremony, with Professor Derek.
That too had been a training that required tension akin to a real battle; it was nothing compared to the intensity of crossing swords with Ceria for mere relaxation.
Thus, I rearranged the position of my sword with a faint smile.
It was a posture that conveyed some leisure.
On the other hand, the girl standing opposite me was clearly tense.
She was catching her breath, and with each exhale, her chest expanded and contracted. It meant she was taking deep breaths.
It seemed she was trying to forcefully calm her nerves.
It was a sparring pure in skill.
It wasn’t a fight where she needed to be anxious, yet Ceria was burning with excessive determination for this duel.
As for me, I couldn’t know the reason in detail.
I could only assume it was influenced by the sparring against the ‘me’ from the future.
Not long ago, Ceria had challenged the ‘me’ from the future. And without a single exception, she had faced a disastrous defeat.
What had been shattered then was not just Ceria’s body.
She was raised being called a genius with a sword.
As the daughter of the Yuridina Clan, she had persevered with a sword amidst all kinds of suffering. For her, the sword was more than self-esteem.
Perhaps she wanted to prove her worth once again through this opportunity.
Even competing evenly with me would mean achieving her goal. She would be able to refute the claims of the ‘me’ from the future.
The comments from back then that said Ceria was no longer of any help.
Thus, I sharpened my determination even more.
It was a battle of swordsman against swordsman. If I meddled for no reason, I would only leave an irreparable wound on Ceria’s pride.
And in that moment, as Ceria steadied her posture, calming her heart.
“…Here I go.”
A gray whirlwind rushed forth.
The bright blue eyes flickered, concealing themselves in the dim darkness. It was a thrust sharp enough to be unbelievable that it was a wooden sword.
Clang! The swords met, clashing with all our might.
It felt like metal colliding, heavy and resonant; in our hands, the wooden swords were not mere training weapons.
If one wished, they could take a life at any moment.
As if to prove this, Ceria’s attacks surged one after another. From the lower left to the upper right, as she aimed to slice through the diagonal trajectory.
Suddenly, I realized that her stance felt strangely familiar.
The Yuridina Clan’s vision technique, the Golden Lionsword.
The sword strike that soared to the sky split into three in an instant and came crashing down.
In shock, I stepped back.
As her blow grazed me, I felt a sharp pain as a few drops of blood splattered.
At this rate, the distinction between a wooden sword and a real sword was meaningless.
It was only bewildering for me, who had approached the duel lightly.
A hurried objection escaped my lips.
“Ceria, why are you using the clan’s secret technique in this sparring…!”
“…Here I go!”
But Ceria already seemed to have hardened her resolve.
Ceria bit her lip and lunged forward once more. Then, as the space compressed, she shot forth like a projectile.
That was when I realized.
Why Ceria had been so tense.
From the start, our mental states toward this sparring were entirely different.
Ceria was sincere.
And sincerity could only be met with sincerity.
I clenched my teeth and channeled magic throughout my whole body.
At that moment, my dormant senses awakened and my vision sharpened. Ceria was holding her sword with a perfect stance.
I saw it.
The imaginary trajectory warned me of Ceria’s next move. My extremely heightened senses were akin to a limited foresight.
Indeed, the truest form of orthodox swordsmanship.
The flowing combination of strikes seemed to leave no small openings. If it had been the me of the past, I would have been unable to move an inch.
Yes, if it were the past me.
But I was not that person now.
My hands shattered the linear boundaries of space. As my inner magic depleted, an odd sense of relaxation spread through me, but it was an action worth that price.
Ceria’s strikes drew increasingly strange trajectories.
In the distorted space, the wooden sword couldn’t reach me. I surged forward, my sword lunging like a beast, unleashing a flurry of strikes.
Clang, clang, clang!
Ceria quickly adjusted her posture to defend. Though her response was fast, she couldn’t fill in the inevitable gaps created in between.
As she swung down, the swords collided, and at the same time, she took another step forward.
Due to her desperate approach, Ceria hesitated and fell back. At that moment, cornered, she couldn’t display any active response.
And with a sudden kick, I struck out.
Because I was on guard, my strike was blocked by Ceria’s sword. It didn’t matter. After all, what I was aiming for was just time.
Yet again, I swung down with all my might, striking Ceria’s blade.
Ceria let out a faint moan as she stepped back.
That was an achievement I would never have reached months ago. Back then, the gap between Ceria and me was too great.
But now, a peculiar instinct arose within me.
The certainty that I could defeat Ceria.
As Ceria took a couple of steps back, unsteady, my sword fell to the lower left.
A large movement came with a significant opening.
Ceria seemed intent on not letting this gap escape her grasp and surged towards me once more.
That was her mistake.
The sword that dropped to the lower left shot up to the sky.
Only then did Ceria’s eyes widen. The initial exchanges had flipped.
No, there was a difference.
Even if she tried to evade, it was already too late for Ceria.
Five streams of silver light, split from the apex, poured down in a cascade.
Ceria attempted to block them, standing her blade up. However, it was impossible to fend off every single one of the falling sword lights like raindrops.
A loud explosion erupted.
The sound of the wooden sword shattering. Ceria couldn’t endure my decisive blow and had to stagger back several steps.
And kneeling, she coughed up blood.
It seemed she utilized her inner magic to minimize the shock as much as she could.
In that process, the over-saturation of magic caused the wooden sword to shatter, and the conclusion was that Ceria’s body had been ruined, causing her to spit blood.
The victor was clear.
I took a deep breath, calming my ragged breaths as I sheathed my sword.
What followed was an expression of blurred concern.
“Ceria, are you okay?”
It was a rather bold statement for someone who had just won using magic.
But what could I do? If Ceria was sincere, I had no choice but to respond sincerely.
As I tried to step closer, a white hand halted me.
Ceria tapped her chest a few times and pulled out a healing potion from her pocket, chugging it down. Only after that did she show a hint of stabilization.
Her complexion had turned slightly pale.
Ceria, with a self-deprecating smile, staggered back to her feet.
“I’ve been completely defeated, Senior Ian… I’m not even a match anymore.”
“You were just unlucky.”
My modesty made the slight curve of Ceria’s lips even more bitter.
I didn’t say a word until Ceria opened her mouth again. Not even the usual consoling phrases.
Accepting defeat was solely Ceria’s responsibility.
I simply hoped that it would help with her growth in the long run. Ceria was not a weak swordsman to be crushed like this; she would surely rise again.
As if on cue, Ceria exhaled heavily, sounding relieved.
The corners of her eyes drew soft curves.
“You’re amazing, Senior Ian… How did you grow so much in such a short time?”
Finally, it seemed my growth had been validated.
That, too, was the recognition of someone I had faced a few months ago, who had utterly crushed me without any proper resistance.
I couldn’t help but feel joy.
I had now surpassed Ceria.
So much that I was able to win with considerable ease.
