Sword Saint's Reincarnation-Chapter 81: Semifinals (2)

Rylan cracked his neck.

“Feel free to use magic,” he said as he started walking toward Jasmine. “This time, I won’t just defend.”

She wore a tense expression. Gulping, she let out a breath and got into a stance. Rylan eyed her up and down.

Not bad, but there are too many gaps.

For her age and in a world like this, where swordsmanship wasn’t developed, it was great. When faced with his century of his experience, however, its weaknesses were revealed.

I guess I can use this opportunity to give her a few pointers. There’s no need to circulate my mana.

He had discovered the joy of teaching with the Flameheart estate’s soldiers, since Roland hadn't had any disciples. Rylan admired Jasmine’s willingness to stick with swordsmanship even if it was only a hobby. In a world of magic, she had chosen to spend some of her time studying the blade, which was what made up the entirety of his past life. There was no way to avoid feeling some liking.

With a smile, Rylan lunged at her without circulating his mana. Jasmine flinched and lowered her center of gravity, widening the distance between her feet with a determined expression. Even without the Falling Snow Steps, Rylan’s high physical stats made him reach her in only a few moments. He opened with a simple attack: an overhead slash that fell toward her like a landslide.

The second their blades clashed, Jasmine shook from head to toe. Her blade immediately tilted, being pushed backward as she desperately tried to hold on. Her base remained strong, but it was only just enough to keep her from collapsing.

Rylan pulled his sword back and raised it above his head, intentionally revealing an opening. She didn’t take advantage of it: more accurately, she couldn’t do so. It helped him obtain a firmer grasp of her exact level. Another overhead slash arrived, forcing her even further back. With a push, he took a step back and ran his eyes over her. Her arms were trembling. Pulling back his sword as if readying it for another swing, he watched as he hurriedly got into a defensive position with shaking eyes.

“Against an enemy with superior Strength, why are you only trying to block?” He asked, lightly swinging his sword and pushing her backward, stumbling. “An attack that doesn’t hit is useless, no matter how powerful it is. Dodge or parry if you must, but receiving the full brunt of the blow will only lead to defeat.”

Rylan swung his sword again, intentionally in the same fashion as the previous attacks. This time, Jasmine stepped back and to the side, making the blade hit nothing but air. He smiled. Without missing a beat, Jasmine took a step forward and thrust her blade at his chest with both hands. The steel tip pierced through the air, aiming straight for his heart. Did she believe in his ability to avoid this? Or was she so focused on the battle that she forgot this was a friendly match in a competition? Still, he quite liked this decisiveness.

With a sidestep, Rylan tilted his body, standing parallel to the blade. The thrust failed to even graze his clothes. Using his current position and stance, he swung his blade horizontally, right over Jasmine’s. He was ready to stop the attack the moment it looked like it would hit her neck, but she ducked under it while keeping her posture and took a diagonal step, narrowing the distance between them.

Good move.

Not only had she cleanly avoided the slash, but she had also tried to make up for their difference in size. Since he was much taller, he had longer arms and could reach her from farther away. Simultaneously, if she got too close, it would be more difficult for him to wield his sword. Of course, something like this was easily dealt with.

Rylan took a single step back and slashed horizontally again, this time at the height of her chest.

Jasmine widened her eyes and placed her sword vertically against her side, her left arm supporting it. The collision sent her reeling, the sound echoing. Her arms trembled even more. They had almost failed her.

“You can take a step forward to get closer, but I can just take a step back. When you narrow the distance, you must attack quickly, before your enemy can react and get back into a favorable position,” Rylan said.

With another step forward, she spun, her blade aiming for his thighs. Rylan grasped the hilt with both hands and executed an upward slash. His weapon almost grazed the ground in an arc at its lowest point before rising and meeting her slash dead-on. Her blade was knocked back as her feet slid on the floor.

“Good. The lower body is harder to protect than the upper body. Which is why…”

He suddenly took a step forward as she struggled to recover her footing, and lashed out with his back leg. His kick landed straight on her shin. His foot caught behind it and pulled. Her balance collapsed, forcing her to stumble in place and ruining her stance. An opening this large was enough to end any swordfight, but Rylan didn’t attack again.

“…You must keep it stable at all times. Your lower body is the foundation of everything you do, from moving to slashing and thrusting. Both attack and defense revolve around it. Even if your arms can no longer swing your sword, you can still dodge and run away if your lower body is still in order. If this weren’t a spar, you would be dead right now.”

Jasmine gritted her teeth. It was similar to how she had reacted the first time they fought, but Rylan realized the difference at once. There was some frustration, just like before, but it was overwhelmed by fighting spirit and sheer focus. Her eyes blazed with the desire to improve.

This is no longer just a fight for her.

She wasn’t worried about beating him. Instead, she was learning everything she could, sinking her teeth into his advice like she was starving for it.

With one strong step backward, Jasmine stabilized herself. She held the hilt with both hands and swung her sword at him, slashing through the air diagonally. Rylan spun, making her sword’s edge graze against his and pass by. Even though he had just parried her blow, her balance didn’t collapse. She sent another slash at his neck, but he dodged it with a step back.

Rylan thrust his blade forward, supporting it with his entire weight. It was an attack meant for her to dodge or parry. Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her blade, staring at him. The moment the thrust was about to arrive, she stepped to the side. With a loud echo, she effectively parried his thrust, making him smile.

One after the other, slashes rained down upon Jasmine. She parried and blocked whatever she could but couldn’t avoid being hit. Cuts appeared over her skin, bleeding. The drops of scarlet fell on the stone floor.

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“Every wound can affect your fighting ability, even if only due to the pain. In a situation like this, seek a single opportunity to turn the tables. All you need is one chance, even if you’re against a stronger enemy.”

Rylan didn’t stop attacking as he spoke, hammering blow after blow onto Jasmine’s blade but without using too much strength. She reeled but tried desperately to keep her lower body steady. He nodded to himself. Most times he intentionally revealed a gap, she sought to dig into it with ferocity. Her eyes revealed only steeled resolve. Rylan parried or dodged every attack while executing some of his own. He could tell that she sometimes perceived an opening but was too slow to exploit it. It was the limitation of someone who’d also had to raise their magical stats with their Free Points.

Steel against steel, they clashed continuously. As the seconds ticked by, Rylan’s appreciation for Jasmine grew. Her hair was soaked with sweat, her arms were trembling, and she was heaving. Yet, the determination in her eyes never wavered. She was willing to keep pushing herself further.

It's different from when she gave up during our first fight.

Was it because she already knew he was stronger than her? Or was it because she had hated the bitter taste of defeat? This time, she wasn’t backing down or giving up. Rylan smiled. His movements became a bit faster and stronger. Every collision echoed like a thunderclap. Jasmine was forced on the defensive with gritted teeth. Carefully, he attacked just enough to push her to her limits without overwhelming her.

“Use your body weight. Learn to fall back when necessary: only a fool tries to end a fight with brute force alone. Yes, that’s good. Steady your footing. Only trade blows if you’re sure you can come out on top or are fighting for your life. Utilize your advantages to their fullest and exploit the enemy’s weaknesses.”

Rylan continued to give her pointers as they fought, whirling into Jasmine’s gaps and hitting her with the flat of the blade. Air left her lungs every time the attacks hit her or cut into her flesh, but she kept going. He avoided inflicting serious injuries with great care, adjusting his strength and speed as he saw fit. Keeping his full attention on her, he managed to track her physical condition.

Jasmine’s blood flowed, falling to the stone tiles while glinting in the sunlight with morbid beauty. Sweat covered her brow and made her shirt stick to her torso. Blow after blow, they clashed.

The stadium was mostly silent. As if afraid to disturb this moment, the crowd only talked in hushed whispers, creating a persistent sound.

It happened once they separated after Rylan parried Jasmine’s slash. Her posture collapsed as her muscles shook. Instead of digging into that gap and injuring her, Rylan rested his blade on his shoulder and took two steps back. She recovered her balance but didn’t go after him. Heaving, she only stared at him, her sword hanging low as if she were struggling to even lift it. Her entire body trembled. After a few long, deep breaths, she suddenly bowed, almost falling to her knees.

“Thank you. You’re a much greater swordsman than I thought,” she said, still bowing. Her tone was sad and dragged out. The audience went completely silent in a moment and leaned forward. “I can’t… my sword can’t reach you.”

She raised her body with a conflicted expression, using the sword for support. Frustration and dejection mixed with a desire to win and improve herself. Competitiveness still burned in her eyes, but not as much as when they started. Rylan stared at her for a second.

“Jasmine. Do you know what’s most important to a swordman’s development?” he abruptly spoke up. She looked at him with confusion. “The ability to keep going.”

She blinked.

“It’s nice to have a goal, someone you want to surpass, and whatnot. But the single most important thing is to pick up your pieces when you fall and keep moving forward. Whether you’re doing it for revenge, wealth, fame, or to become the best there ever was. To succeed, you need that ability.”

Jasmine tilted her head as she stared deep into his eyes.

“…You don’t match what I’ve been told at all.”

Rylan gave her a helpless smile.

“Drop by when you need advice in swordsmanship. I’ll help you when I can.”

He chose not to address her words. She smiled as if she understood why. The sunlight paled in comparison to the brightness.

***

Damian rubbed his white beard with a pensive expression, green eyes locked into Rylan’s figure.

“Damian! Did you see that? That was just swordsmanship, but…” the king exclaimed to his right, making him smile. It was a rare occasion for his friend to lose his composure.

“Just swordsmanship? Your Majesty, you understand it as well as I do,” Damian replied.

Henry openly laughed. Damian glanced at the two bodyguards in purple robes. Their shock was palpable as they fidgeted in place. Had they realized it as well?

“Magnificent,” Gael Astassier said from the throne to Damian’s left. He stared at Rylan like he was looking at a priceless treasure. “He increased his physical stats so much, yet this is the first fight where he drew his sword. Such swordsmanship could defeat almost any First Circle Mage, but he got this far with magic alone.”

A minute frown made its way to Damian’s face as he looked at Gael. He made no attempt to hide it. Still, the hateful man’s words were correct. Rylan was fast and strong enough to overwhelm a First Circle Mage, even one with reasonable experience. No, he went beyond that.

“To me, it would be difficult for a young Second Circle Mage to cope with his skills, either,” Alice said, dumbfounded. She sounded like she couldn’t believe her own words. “They aren’t used to fighting someone who can move like that. In a tournament like this, where almost all Mages are inexperienced…”

The professor next to her nodded her head, staring at Rylan like he was a mythical beast.

“I agree. Without Magic Shield, one slash would be enough. Even if they did raise a Shield, just swinging his sword doesn’t require Rylan to spend any mana, unlike keeping the Shield up. Without a plan or dual casting, defeating him would be too difficult. That said, Jasmine did wonderfully.”

“She’s definitely skilled,” Alice said while shaking her head slowly. “But the gap between them is too large. Rylan Flameheart’s swordsmanship… it surpasses any I’ve seen.”

Damian looked back at the arena. Great amounts of interest danced within him. When Alice had told him this battle would be shocking, he hadn’t realized it was to this extent. A single young man who went against the world’s established system. Jasmine wasn’t bad at all, but the gap between the two was enormous. To Damian’s experienced eyes, it was even more obvious, despite the fact that he knew little about swordsmanship. Rylan Flameheart had completely controlled this battle, from the start until now.

I wonder how he’d fare against a Third Circle Mage.

The other judges’ words were correct but also a bit inaccurate. Rylan Flameheart wasn’t just above First Circle Mages; his speed, power, and skill could overwhelm almost any combatant in the Second Circle. Because Second Circle spells lacked area-of-effect or targeting, someone like Rylan would be able to avoid them with little trouble. Damian grinned.

It's only possible because of his impeccable battle sense.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

It was something that only he, the king, and Gael had likely realized, as the most experienced Mages among the judges. Rylan’s prowess extended beyond his considerable physical stats. In a battle to the death, he would be a much greater threat than his stats led one to believe. Damian grin turned into a wide smile.

Flawless.

Finding someone like this had been the reason why he created this tournament in the first place. The other applicants were all great in their own way, but Rylan’s battle sense stood above them. Only Hayden of Lindsor would be able to fight him head-on if he drew his sword.

“How is this possible…?” one of the female professors gasped out. “There was no magic, so how? It’s just swordsmanship. Even if he increased his physical stats with every single Free Point he had, it wouldn’t be enough to display such an enormous gap…”

Alice shook her head with a scoff.

“If he had spent every Free Point on them, his magic wouldn’t have let him come this far without drawing his sword,” she replied, then looked at Damian. “How is this happening, Headmaster? How can someone that young become so good at swordsmanship?”

Damian smiled widely.

“I don’t know! Isn’t that wonderful?” he replied excitedly.

Alice’s chin dropped, but he was no longer paying her any attention.

“Find out everything you can about Rylan Flameheart,” Henry said to the bodyguards behind him. They bowed.

Damian’s heart throbbed with anticipation. A swordsmanship that surpassed any that he had ever seen was seen in an eighteen-year-old young man.

What level would Rylan Flameheart reach in the future?