Your Commander-in-Chief – Chapter 55

I defeated my opponent and advanced to the Round of 64.

To be honest, it wasn’t a particularly special match.

I thoroughly analyzed my opponent while they failed to do the same.

Of course, my talent was superior, so even if my opponent had known my playstyle, the outcome wouldn’t have changed.

But it seemed people weren’t thinking that way.

Guild Chat and World Chat started lighting up.

My nickname and guild were being mentioned repeatedly.

Honestly, it felt a little nice, but the title “Blood Demon” that followed was incredibly embarrassing.

With my eyes closed, I slowly replayed the earlier duel in my mind.

What if I had swung my sword a different way at that moment?

Instead of to the right, what if I had gone left, or used a different skill in that situation?

In the scenes playing in my head, I was continuing my new duel.

The opponent was still that pro player using the nickname “Kiki.”

But the results wouldn’t change. No matter how I clashed with him, he could never defeat me.

As I let time pass alone, the Round of 128 concluded.

The 128-man competition had a total game time of 50 minutes and a 10-minute break.

And right after the 10-minute break, the Round of 64 began.

Just like the other players, I stood up and drew my sword.

After the Arena matching began, my body was transported with a faint glow.

The wide, flat arena map always gave off a peculiar sense of tension.

I slowly brushed my toes across the arena floor. The firm texture of the solid ground felt unnaturally realistic.

A fierce gaze was directed at me from across the way.

A male character, standing about 180 cm tall, stared at me while wielding a sword and shield.

He was clad in full Plate Mail. A faint light emanated from his body.

This opponent must have chosen the Paladin class, ranked 2 and 3.

The rank 1 class wasn’t that important. If we were thinking about class advantages, he would have chosen Knight, and if he were going for the higher classes, he would have selected Paladin as the upper tier of the Paladin class.

A job with extreme sustainability and high defense.

It was a job choice that gave insight into the opponent’s cautious personality.

After a brief waiting period, the match began.

The opponent slowly advanced, hiding his body behind his shield.

He moved like a large fortress was on the move.

[Storm-inzk]

This opponent, too, was a pro player.

In the VRS world, he displayed fighting that pursued extreme safety, adorned with a massive shield and heavy armor.

Here, his nature hadn’t changed.

He was unable to break away from his existing playstyle.

The moment the distance closed, he swung his sword immediately.

There was no need to test his skill; I intended to go all out from the beginning.

Swoosh!

The quickly thrust sword caught the opponent’s attention.

His massive leg stepped forward, bringing his shield to the front.

His movement appeared to be an attempt to push my sword away; it was an incomprehensible choice.

Why was he offering his shield forward?

In that moment, with a clanging sound, our sword and shield collided, causing our bodies to sway significantly.

I was pushed back a step. But the opponent was pushed back too.

Though I couldn’t see his expression under that large helmet, I could tell his breath momentarily faltered.

He was flustered. In that single collision, the emotion of surprise had come to mind.

-Why?

My mind began spinning rapidly.

I searched for the reason behind his fluster. My eyes moved unceasingly, observing my opponent’s reactions to the end.

His body, which had been pushed back, began to rotate slightly, straightening his back.

The leg that had been pushed back was instead transmitting strength to his upper body.

Swoosh!

The long reach of the opponent’s sword narrowly brushed over my head.

His movement was precise and sharp.

I only reacted quickly.

Using my low crouched position, I quickly closed the distance and thrust my sword.

As the white blade flew, the opponent raised his shield.

Clang!

The tip of my sword scraped against the shield, sending sparks flying.

The opponent’s body was thrown back significantly.

In that moment, his breath faltered again.

It was strange. And I understood.

“This…!”

I halted my movements at the sound of the opponent’s voice filled with defeat.

As he stepped back and hurriedly moved his sword and shield into a defensive posture, he appeared puzzled by my presence.

This guy.

He didn’t understand the game system.

In Deron’s Arena, all stats are generally calibrated equally.

Character appearances don’t influence stats.

Sure, there may be some influence from the lengths of arms and legs, but it meant that the inherent strength was the same.

“You.”

“…”

“Get it together. Don’t underestimate me just because I’m small.”

Cutting off an opponent’s head is easy if they’re not trying.

But I didn’t want that. I wanted to draw out my opponent’s full strength and utterly crush them.

This guy in front of me also refused my goodwill and refunded all his sponsorships.

He was one of those who had insulted me.

“It’s strange.”

“What’s strange?”

“If it were VRS, I wouldn’t have been able to play a character like this.”

“Hey…”

“I know, this isn’t VRS, it’s Deron.”

With that, the opponent began to shake his shield and sword as if they were toys.

“It’s light; way too light. It feels unreal.”

“We’re in a tournament. Focus.”

“Focus? How could I focus? The difference from VRS is so extreme that it feels surreal.”

The opponent chuckled slightly at my frown.

Then he started firing skills randomly into the air and said to me, “If you want to win, I’ll throw the match. To be honest, I have no interest in this game.”

“Throw the match…?”

“Yeah. I’m bored, so I can’t keep playing.”

Bored? This game? Deron?

He really seemed to think that, spreading his arms wide.

As if urging me to finish quickly.

The grip on my sword tightened. The opponent’s insulting words were making my blood boil.

It was a different sensation from the white-hot pain that was burning me up inside.

As my blood boiled, my mind became calmer.

“What are you doing? Hurry up and finish it.”

With my head heating up, dozens of images began to swirl in my thoughts.

My body began to move. I started to replicate the movements of one specific swordsman that had come to mind.

The blurred pain sharpened. A white pain, different from the burning sensation, began to creep in.

“That…”

My left hand thrust forward, holding the shield, while my right hand gripped the sword backward, allowing the blade to point backward.

With legs slightly apart, I bent my knees slightly.

This posture should be familiar. It had to be familiar.

The stance I was showcasing was one that he had taken at the most critical moments in VRS.

Even if the players on the team Storm might differ slightly, they’d adopt a similar swordsmanship.

“Raise your sword.”

“You, no… you can’t possibly be from our team…?”

“Raise your sword. Before I kill you.”

The opponent, who had been taking a half-hearted stance, hesitated at my words, and then mirrored my stance.

A peculiar silence settled.

“I’ll fight you the way you like.”

“The way I like…?”

“Just like VRS. I won’t use any skills.”

It wouldn’t be entirely the same.

But I could recreate a similar situation.

Whether it was because the opponent felt my words were sincere, he scoffed lightly and began raising his spirits.

“If that’s a decent imitation, I’ll forfeit immediately.”

“If you have time to forfeit, give it your best shot.”

The moment the words ended.

Sword strokes flew from both sides at the same time.

The white blades collided in midair, producing a crisp sound as they moved away from each other.

Clang!

Even though we were using the same swordsmanship, I didn’t have the shield that my opponent had.

He knew perfectly well I could not replicate it flawlessly.

So I replicating it in my own way, awkwardly mashing together experiences from all my previous opponents and various swordsmanship videos I’d memorized.

The start was with my feet.

A slight rotation began from my barely moving ankle.

As the energy was transmitted through my calves and thighs, the opponent started to react.

His shield advanced toward me.

It was the optimal choice—blocking my moves while also nullifying my attacks.

But the sword I held reversed in its grip and began to sway like the wind.

There was no need to replicate perfectly. This was Deron, not VRS.

This realm had stat calibrations that didn’t exist in VRS. Movements that made the impossible possible led to unexpected results.

Clang!

It felt as if my entire body was throwing an attack onto his shield.

The large swing of my sword sent my opponent reeling.

I didn’t miss that opening. Using the remaining rotation of my body, I kicked off the ground and jumped.

Thanks to my forward-leaning upper body, I began a forward rotation.

At the moment I soared high above, I swung my sword again, which was held reverse grip.

Swoosh!

The tip of my sword aimed for the gap where the helmet connected, slicing through my opponent’s neck.

The strike hit a fatal spot perfectly.

But I didn’t stop there. The moment I fell behind the opponent, I immediately rotated my body and swung my sword.

Slash!

The huge swing of my sword struck my opponent’s waist. Though the blade didn’t embed due to the thick armor, the impact seemed to make my opponent stagger.

The health was rapidly depleting. If he didn’t use a Paladin’s healing skill, he was surely destined to die from the continual bleeding damage.

But the opponent didn’t use a healing skill.

He simply fell, turning into a shade of grey.

Winner.

[Yeo]

1 win, 0 losses.

Loser.

[Storm-inzk]

0 wins, 1 loss.

After the results of the match appeared, our bodies faded into a dull light and returned to their original locations.

Without saying a word, the opponent was gazing at me.

There was no forfeit. After a brief waiting period, he charged at me with the same swordsmanship as before.

Every moment was careful, and all his attacks were sharp.

But there was no miracle. Of course not. My talent was superior to his.

Winner.

[Yeo]

2 wins, 0 losses.

Loser.

[Storm-inzk]

0 wins, 2 losses.

The opponent, now tinted in a murky grey, removed his helmet and asked me, “Which team are you on?”

Which team I belonged to? Well, if we had to get technical, there was a team-like group I had been part of.

“Soft & Chewy Cow.”

“What’s that, some team name…?”

With that final dialogue with my opponent, I was ejected from the arena with a fading light.

[Yeo advances to Round 32.]