Reborn As The Villain-Chapter 338: SS - 21 Part 1: Kneeling Before True Strength

Arnold made his way over to the Hungry Owlbear Inn. Just from looking at the outside, he could tell this was a fancy establishment. For someone like Mian Xi, who probably had made tens of thousands of gold from the tournament alone, the fees were a breeze to take care of.

Arnold likes to splurge as well but this journey of his made him hesitant on what he should spend money on. Of course, he was paid an enormous sum of money—including gifts from all the nobles so his magic bag was filled with jewelry and other expensive stuff that he could sell. Despite being richer than even some nobles now, all he'll probably buy for now is a few bottles of strong liquor for the road. Before going up to see Mian, he sat down at the bar in the corner of the large inn and called over the bartender.

The bartender froze when she saw him, "S-Sir Nova, you g-grace us with your presence!" she hurriedly bowed.

"Just go get me the best alcohol you have."

"Right away! I'll be back in a minute!" she ran to the back and once out of sight, Arnold could hear clamoring and loud whispers inside.

"Hn? What did she just say?" a few tables away were a group of martials who overheard her. They were the only ones still here while the rest of the guests were sleeping. Judging by their clothes and weapons, they were city guards who tend to wear the red colors of Ko's army with straw hats.

"She said that's Nova, the guy who beat both Mian Xi and Breuk!" another martial chimed in.

"Hold on, why is he here of all places when Mian Xi regularly rents this place? Shouldn't he be at the palace?"

"Maybe he just stopped by for a quick drink before going to the palace?"

"But there's a fancy restaurant right across where the palace is. He could've gotten wine there if he wants to get drunk."

"Suspicious, suspicious..."

"My guess is he's here to see Lady Mian Xi. Do you think the two of them—"

The sound of a mug hitting a table resounded, silencing the guards and making them look over to corner where the sound came from.

There sat a giant of a man whose head was covered with a cloak.

He suddenly got up after gulping down his mug of ale.

The loud strides from heavy boots resounded as the shadow over Arnold grew even more. When he felt a presence right behind him, he glanced back and looked up.

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The giant brute with shoulders as broad as a mountain and upper body as thick as an ox stared down at Arnold.

"What a coincidence—or did you know where I was heading and came here in advance?"

"..."

The bartender came back and timidly handed Arnold the bottle.

"Well, it doesn't matter. I'm not looking to become your friend so get out of my sight." Arnold faced forward again and drank straight from the bottle.

Before the taste of the alcohol could set in, Breuk spoke.

"—How are you so strong?"

The bar lady, a servant sweeping the floor nearby and the rowdy guards from a few tables away, all looked at Arnold at that question.

"...Are you the Sword Martial God sang about in legends?"

Hearing that ridiculous question, everyone looked at him incredulous. But it didn't seem so ridiculous when they recalled the final match—Nova beating both Mian and Breuk, the tournament's most powerful competitors in its entire history. Even without the rumored "Enlightenment" that Ko can bestow upon his martials, they were almost as strong as Celestial Saints.

Plus, his features—striking golden eyes and silver-white hair.

'Me, Promethius' master?' He almost let out a chuckle at the ridiculousness.

But he didn't fault Breuk for this strange question since it was true that endgame Arnold looked like a younger version of that guy. There's only one illustration of the Sword God even though he's a prominent figure in the divine realm and a legend to the mortals.

"What gave you that idea?" without turning to look at the brute, he asked.

"They say that... the Sword God is walking amongst us humans, unlike his brethren."

"In the mortal realms?"

"Aye, but I am not sure which one out of this one (Midorn) and Skeldrheim."

Arnold turned around on his seat, "So, that's where the misunderstanding comes from, huh? Some people are just born special. You were just on the other end of the stick in this life." He pointed at Breuk at if he were holding a stick.

"...No hard work at all?"

"Well, I had a very reliable instructor." Arnold recalled all those times Sebas beat him to near death to "improve his endurance" and forced him to run around the whole city to "improve stamina". And not to mention only letting him rest when his body breaks down from exhaustion.

"Was he the one who taught you that martial art you used that gave you a blue glow?" not even asking for permission, Breuk sat beside Arnold. He was moving rather slowly as if he still had broken bones. The palace doctors should've given him potions that Lian taught to them. Arnold received the same but he didn't need it since—well—he wasn't injured in the slightest.

As if on cue, the bar lady brought out a jug of ale which Breuk drank just like that without a mug.

"I learned that on my own." Breuk paused while drinking, glancing sideways at Arnold before putting the jug down.

"You... learned a martial art all on your own?"

"What, is that hard to believe?" Arnold could feel all their eyes on him and not just Breuk's.

"...That's what sects are for." Breuk stated the obvious.

"Why learn some millennia old martial art when you can create one on your own? That's what I did and it only took me a year."

Maybe it was the alcohol getting to him but he wasn't this talkative usually. Not minding it, he just took another sip. Only then did he realize how much it burnt the throat.

"Phew." He put the mug down before looking at Breuk who was still looking at him blankly, "Get to the point why you're talking to me. I'm only drinking here for a bit before going upstairs. Are you here to get revenge on your arrogant little brother? Does he still have his teeth? I can't remember what he looked like at the end of our fight."

"Ha... Hahaha... Hahaha..." Breuk suddenly began laughing as he leaned back with his head facing the ceiling, "Hahahaha.... Hmm..." he then leaned forward on the table, his eyes staring at his scarred hands.

"My Pa used to say I was the pinnacle of martial prowess—the strongest warrior ever born in the Mountain Sect. No one else could compare to me, not even the sect elders and old masters I challenged on my journey. My people separated during the war and chose to pursue our own goals. Even me and my baby brother. I sought greater strength while he sought gold. Few years passed and we reunited a day after the last tournament. He joined a thief's guild after his pirating life failed in the end while I had no one."

Arnold silently drank. He couldn't deny that he was interested in the background of a warrior who possesses a "pure derivation martial art".

"Have you ever used your martial arts on others before me?"

"No. So far, only sword techniques and body arts have been enough."

"Arrogance got to you this time." He said mockingly.

"...I have never truly fought against someone stronger than myself. I do not know how to feel about it. There were monsters that even I could not win against in a fair fight but I used more than just my power to fell those foes. For humans, it is different. Our bodies are weaker so only using brute force has worked for me this far."

"You're no different from your stupid little brother."

He lacks the dignity you are displaying and wags his tongue without thought to his betters, Arnold said under his breath, recalling how the little bastard wanted to extort money out of him.

"That is true." Breuk sighed before taking a long sip of his ale. "I am more educated than him and have lived among nobles, whether as an escort or a castle guard, so I've picked up etiquette while in service. Meanwhile, he has spent his life after the war roaming the seas with pirates. Many times, I feel ashamed to call him my brother, yet I cannot deny the bond we share through our martial art."

Swirling his mug, Breuk continued, "He is in critical condition now—more so than I ever was—but the nobles did not extend the same kindness to him as they did to me."

"That's because you're still useful to them, even in defeat. You and Mian Xi both, actually."

"I do not see myself on her level."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"I cannot control my martial art as well as she controls hers. I was the prodigy of my clan, but compared to her, I am still a child. You didn't even need your martial art to defeat me, yet you used it. I cannot fathom why you, someone beyond my level, would extend me that honor."

"I hadn't used it in quite a while, so our battle seemed like as good a time as any."

"When one side fights with all their might while the other merely toys with them, it brings great shame—not only to them but to the family whose honor they swore to uphold."

"Honor, again?"

Breuk's shoulders tensed, and he averted his gaze. "I... I did not mean to speak of honor so brazenly. Forgive me."

-"Did the God Hand just apologize!?"

-"Look at him! He's shaking like someone who dove into a river in the dead of winter! Hahahaha!"

The bartender lady looked at Breuk as if she saw a ghost.

Arnold glanced at Breuk's hand gripping the mug. It was true—he was trembling.

Sighing, Arnold shifted the conversation. "By 'going all out,' you mean what you did at the end, right? That suicide skill—black hole?"

"...Aye... You are right to call it a suicide skill. In the centuries past, my people used it often when they were outmatched in battle. Back then, there were no rules to our martial art—we had no knowledge of its true origins. It was a gift to us, a gift that made us eternally grateful to the one that bestowed it to our ancestors."

The rules surrounding direct derivations of pure martial arts varies depending on what it can do. This is common sense so it doesn't have to be explicitly mentioned. For Arnold, he isn't allowed to use [Storm of the Water Dragon] in a crowded place if he's facing off against multiple enemies in that same place.

For Sebastian, he vowed to never target a person's head when in a fight that could be resolved by restraining the opponent. Punching them in the head would shatter their skulls and brains. A monk should resolve matters through talking but if that doesn't work, restrain the opponent but if the opponent doesn't listen even then or their crimes are too severe to ignore—kill them. Despite being only in the level 70s, his punches were astronomically more powerful than even level cap warriors. Arnold would know since he was punched through a wall just months ago.

The rules aren't forced on them by a nation or powerful sects but rather they're the ones that should have the common sense to restrain themselves depending on the situation.

While not a real black hole, what Breuk conjured just from the point where his fists collided, could've destroyed part of this empire and killed thousands if Arnold didn't stop it. Of course, Ko would've broken Breuk's neck before he could infuse enough power into the black hole anyway but Arnold was quicker to grab the conjured energy.

"You... You said you have a master, right?" Breuk changed the subject.

"Yeah."

"... Right... It would be too absurd for you to get this far on your own... Even the Divine Daos of legend had masters."

Arnold didn't say anything to that.

"What is it like to have a master?"

"Huh, you've never had one?"

"Aye, younger me thought I did not need one after I learned my sect's martial art from the elders. There was some truth to that in the past because I was able to get this far alone."

"But you can't control your martial art that well."

"Aye... It is either use little bit of strength or go all out."

"Rather odd way to fight and very risky. Even without you telling people, they'll know you've never had a master to correct your faults." Yet again, Arnold remembered his "dark past" where training every day was a battle of "life or death" for him, "Or a strict master to guide you and not just train your body."

Since Sebastian used to be a slave in a gladiator arena as a young man, he had fought with his life on the line every single day. Through pushing Arnold to his very limit, he was able to teach Arnold that a fight is never over until even the tiniest sliver of energy in your body is still present. Just like he was beaten into a bloody pulp daily, he drove Arnold to the same state to educate him.

It was due to Sebas' teachings that he was able to hold his own against demigods (Kalda and Gederick) through combat experience alone.

Looking at him from the side, Breuk could tell by his dazed gaze that Arnold was thinking about his master.

How great of a man must this master be if he could forge this young man into a being of absolute strength that could stand equal to Celestial Saints and Divine Daos?

Truth be told, Breuk was approached by Ko a few months ago so him participating in this tournament wasn't that much of a coincidence. Their exchange was just one side offering the other a deal.

Ko needed powerful warriors for some "inevitable fight to come" and Breuk needed strength. It was as if fate arranged their meeting.

The Inner Martials were the most elite private army under the emperor. Upon entering Ko's service, they throw away their previous names and embrace a new life—a life serving a tyrant. In return for their servitude, they are granted a way to "reach a different level of strength" almost instantly. The method was never revealed but there were rumors that, upon becoming Divine Daos, martials are able to enlighten others through simple rituals at the cost of vitality.

To Breuk at the time who thought this shortcut to strength would allow him to wield his clan's martial arts to its fullest extent, it seemed like a lucrative deal.

But Breuk had learned that artificial strength will not get him far, far enough to stand beside those same Celestial Saints and Divine Daos of legend.

The one who made him realize this was sitting right next to him.

This is why—

"I... am aware of my shortcomings and... I want to correct them... Which is why I would like to... meet your master." Without hesitation, Breuk proclaimed his main reason for approaching Arnold.