Immersion in battle.
As concentration reaches its limits, time begins to flow slowly. In this moment, where senses are heightened and even the resistance of the air feels alien.
Some call this ‘the swordsman’s time.’ They are those who enjoy close combat and transcend the boundaries of life and death. There is no disagreement that among the residents living in this alternate timeline, many are swordsmen.
One of the pieces of evidence is Yulen. The world that his vision captures is slowing down dramatically.
In an instant, as the sword emits a chilling light, a silver line is drawn connecting from the sheath. Even if one were to dissect a second into tiny fractions, it would be impossible to witness this swift drawing of the blade. Yet, Yulen knew.
He was caught.
Before long, Ian’s golden eyes were fixated on his sword. In the halted time, only those eyes seemed to move.
The atmosphere of Ian, who had been leisurely holding a teacup, flipped. The teacup soared into the air, and in the gap, a blade of light exploded.
The silver line clashed with the soaring blade. A clang echoed in the air, and sparks flew. The recoil slightly bounced Yulen’s sword away.
Yulen’s eyes deepened.
Even having made the first move, it was too late. If it were the Ian he knew, he shouldn’t have been able to respond at this speed.
However, Ian not only deflected the sword as if it were natural, but he had also drawn an axe in the meantime. For Yulen, it was impossible to predict his intentions, leaving him unable to formulate a proper response.
Ian’s intent soon became clear. He brought the axe down onto the table without hesitation.
With a crunch, the sound of crushed wood resonated as the small table that separated Yulen and Ian collapsed.
Simultaneously, wooden splinters flew haphazardly into the air. Instinctively, Yulen took a step back to avoid the shards.
That was his mistake. Like a beast spotting its prey, the figure of the man surged forward. By now, Ian had sheathed his sword, holding only the axe.
Using a short weapon in close combat was akin to committing suicide. The longer the reach, the more advantageous it was in any battle. There was only one exception.
When the distance was too narrow.
Yulen realized this too late and hastily tried to widen the gap, but it was already too late.
Clang, metal clashed with metal, blurring his vision.
The axe was as fast as it was short. Ian was weaving the axe through the air like a seasoned conductor. The continuous sounds of collision felt almost like a symphony.
And in the rhythm of swords and sparks, Yulen was simply busy deflecting the axe.
He was overwhelmed. Yulen felt as though he had been possessed by a ghost. There had only been two exchanges, yet Yulen’s disadvantage was clear now.
If there were no factors to turn the situation around immediately, he would have to kneel within minutes. Already, his hand was growing dizzy from deflecting the axe.
It was close. Just then, when Yulen was contemplating whether it would be better to abandon his sword.
“Yulen!”
The voice of the Lady Virgin Saint echoed. And a white radiance seeped into Yulen’s body. At that moment, his physical abilities surged explosively.
Joy flickered in Yulen’s eyes. Yes, he needed this turnaround.
Cracks formed in Ian’s consecutive attacks, due to Yulen’s response speed drastically increasing. His movements were now exponentially more agile.
He retreated as if stepping back, securing distance before rapidly pressing the ground.
The silver light of the sword traced a straight line.
The blade pierced through the air. An attack so fierce it could even split dimensions.
The acceleration was sudden. There was no way to respond. The sword flew twice as fast as the familiar speed he was used to.
This will hit. With that conviction, the moment Yulen stepped forward.
Whoosh, his sword sliced through the air.
Ian shifted his body sideways. As if revolving around that point, Yulen’s sword missed him. However, Yulen couldn’t comprehend this.
It was too late. As Ian executed his movement, Yulen’s sword had already reached within inches of him. But as if the space twisted, Yulen was flung back, slicing through empty air.
Yet, the time given to Yulen to understand this was far too short. He gritted his teeth.
With his stepping foot as the pivot, from that unstable posture, he drew the line of his sword obliquely.
Immediately, sparks flew. Clang, the sound of two blades clashing resonated.
As expected. The axe had already surged in. Ian’s eyes, wielding it, showed not a hint of wavering, calm as ever.
As if striking a chicken’s neck.
But Yulen was no easy opponent. When the sword and axe clashed, he used the recoil to spin his body. And he was finally convinced.
Yulen’s physical ability was superior. Even with just one foot standing, the fight was evenly matched. If so, there was no doubt that the sword shot from a stable stance would be even more lethal.
Yulen’s eyes were fierce.
Once he got back to his original position, he tried to draw his sword horizontally.
Had the approaching axe not been there.
If he didn’t block the axe being drawn horizontally, his head would be split like firewood.
Defense was the priority. The instant his sword was raised.
Crack, a sound that shouldn’t be heard reverberated.
Yulen’s wide-open eyes testified to his shock. Following his gaze, Ian’s axe had lodged itself into his shoulder, gushing forth blood.
It was absurd.
Wasn’t it the axe that was drawn horizontally? However, that trajectory formed a right angle like a waterfall and pierced directly through Yulen’s shoulder. It was a movement that defied the laws of physics.
Yet at that moment, a name flashed through Yulen’s mind.
He was quite knowledgeable in swordsmanship, and thus, well aware of all sorts of intricate techniques in the continent.
Just as he was about to mutter a name in a groan.
“Sword sur… aah!”
Before Yulen’s words could fully form, a flash of the blade flew and pierced his remaining shoulder. No longer able to endure the pain, Yulen screamed out and collapsed.
Blood poured from both shoulders. His shoulder joint shattered; further combat was impossible. It seemed the battle would soon conclude with Ian’s victory.
Unless a sudden strike from behind hadn’t approached.
It was a punch. A fist shot out at a terrifying speed, acting as a weapon in its own right. It was the Lady Virgin’s ambush.
Though kept secret externally, the Lady Virgin had also trained in the martial arts of the Holy Kingdom for self-defense. Even enhancing physical abilities with divine powers could overwhelm mediocre swordsmen.
When combined with the martial arts practiced by monks, its power was undeniably significant.
Yet Ian seemed to know of the incoming punch, tilting his head to evade it. The fist sliced through the air.
A series of attacks were bound to follow. Yet Ian remained unmoved.
Before that, there was something behind the Lady Virgin’s back attacking.
It was the teacup. The teacup that had been lifted into the air at the start of the battle, now flew toward the Lady Virgin’s head, tracing a strange trajectory.
Confusion appeared in the eyes of the Lady Virgin, who had cared little for such a teacup. Considering the air time, the teacup falling now was nonsensical. However, her lack of practical experience led her to make a foolish judgment.
Crash, the teacup burst mid-air, splattering tea everywhere.
The Lady Virgin inadvertently swatted the teacup away with her fist. Immediately after, just as she was again getting into position to strike at Ian.
The Lady Virgin’s world flipped upside down.
Before she knew it, Ian had grabbed her arm and thrown her over his shoulder.
Various martial arts existed on the continent, but the martial arts that could penetrate and embrace someone in such an instant were unique.
The Holy Kingdom’s vision martial arts, the Moon Flip.
With a thud, the Lady Virgin’s body collided with the marble floor, causing a shockwave. A groan escaped her lips involuntarily. But that wasn’t the end.
Naturally twisting her arm, he flipped and pinned her down. With her arm twisted behind her and facing the ground, the Lady Virgin was unable to resist.
This was also a characteristic possessed by most martial arts, but the seamless combination of actions was far too familiar. The vision of the Holy Kingdom was evident.
However, foreigners could not learn the Holy Kingdom’s martial arts, and skepticism colored the Lady Virgin’s gaze directed at Ian. Yet his golden eyes remained incredibly calm.
“Wh- you… huff, who are you?”
So startled was she that her breath became uneven, the Lady Virgin asked. Hearing those words, Ian hesitated for a moment before closing his mouth.
His indifferent gaze drifted to the side, then returned to the Lady Virgin. The unwavering golden eyes met with her trembling pink ones in the air.
“……Me?”
The next moment, a loud cracking sound echoed.
“Ah! Hhhuuuuuh!”
Ian had just broken the Lady Virgin’s arm. The pain of her shoulder joint shattering made her gasp as she writhed against the ground. She grimaced, glaring at Ian.
In Yulen’s eyes, a fire blazed. He screamed as if in horror.
“Sister! You bastard Ian……!”
“If you don’t want your legs shattered too, be quiet.”
That was the end of it. Yulen’s gaze was filled with resentment, but he could do nothing but grit his teeth.
Ian casually continued his steps, unperturbed. His heavy steps directed him toward the chair he had originally sat in.
He settled there, looking down at the Lady Virgin without saying a word.
A faint fear clouded the Lady Virgin’s eyes.
This man, there’s no hesitation at all.
When someone resorts to violence, there is always internal conflict. Especially when the target is a woman and a high-ranking official from the Holy Kingdom, it would be even more so.
Yet that man, as if it were nothing, broke the Lady Virgin’s arm the moment he decided.
For her, who had unconsciously become accustomed to her identity as a ‘Lady Virgin’, it was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
However, even with eyes filled with shock and fear directed at him, there was no change in Ian’s expression. Just with his weary gaze, he uttered a single word.
“……Ian Fercurus.”
What could that mean? The Lady Virgin, pondering for a moment, then recalled the question she had asked.
The answer to “Who are you?”
It was indeed a fitting yet inappropriate response, leading the Lady Virgin to only manage a bitter smile.
A madman.
She couldn’t dare to voice such thoughts and merely mumbled curses inwardly.
