Turning Chapter 1011
‘She really has crossed the wall.’
Yuder thought as he watched Meghna staring down at her own hands, as if possessed by something. He had believed she was catching up faster than expected, but even he hadn’t thought she would make it this far.
‘I did consider stopping halfway through for a moment...’
But when he saw the exhilaration gleaming in Meghna’s eyes as she faced him, he no longer wanted to.
Yuder had encountered many people who felt despair or fear when facing him. Yet it had been a long time since he’d met someone who was so genuinely delighted to be pushed to their limits. Someone who truly welcomed the obstacles he laid before them, took them on with their entire being, overcame them, and came at him again with terrifying persistence—each time he saw her chase him like that, he felt something strange and refreshing.
It wasn't the cold tension of facing someone who could threaten his life if he let his guard down for even a moment. It was something else entirely.
Perhaps it was similar to the shock Meghna herself must have felt in facing Yuder.
And so, the final result they had reached, far beyond his expectations, was truly a relief.
‘I never used to like outcomes that strayed from expectations. But if it’s a deviation like this, I suppose I should welcome it.’
Truthfully, it wasn’t quite accurate to say that Meghna had now been officially recognized as a Swordmaster. It was true that the most important element in being acknowledged as a Swordmaster was ‘the ability to release enough aura to completely engulf and overturn the sword body’—but if it only happened once, how could she be called a Master?
‘Meghna, just now, released aura only once during the spar, and even that lasted only a moment.’
Even she seemed unsure whether she could maintain that level of aura consistently. She would probably need time to go through a process of proving her own strength.
Still, the aura she had just displayed—even though weaker compared to Kishiar or Nathan Zuckerman—was strong enough to rival the Masters he’d encountered in his past life, so there was little to worry about.
‘And even if the realization she gained just now isn’t enough, she has General Gino right by her side. With focused aura training under him, she’ll likely reach full stability within a few months—and once that happens, they’ll be able to formally announce it to the world.’
If Meghna were to be officially declared a Swordmaster, that would bring the number of Masters in the Orr Empire up to five. In his past life, Yuder had heard that for hundreds of years, never had there been more than four Masters alive at the same time in the Empire. It was truly an extraordinary occurrence.
“Whew...”
He exhaled softly and looked down at the practice sword still in his hand. The moment he realized there was no need to keep gripping the shattered handle, his whole body suddenly felt as heavy as if it were soaked in water.
Unlike Meghna, who had thrown everything she had into the fight in a state of selfless trance, Yuder had to constantly adjust the strength of his Awakener power to avoid injuring her, relying solely on swordsmanship. While it was similar to how he normally fought, it was more mentally exhausting than actual combat. That was because Meghna Curlieva, in terms of pure swordsmanship, was not someone easily overcome.
To fend off a swordfighter on the cusp of becoming a Master using an inferior weapon and still overpower her... if not for the accumulated experience of Yudrain Aile, it would’ve been impossible.
‘Even if I hadn’t used Awakener power, the outcome might’ve been different if we’d fought somewhere other than this open training ground—somewhere with places to hide, or if I could’ve used other weapons.’
Since returning to the past, he hadn’t used anything but a sword outside of training. But originally, he had used a wide variety of weapons. If it were against an inexperienced knight who knew only the sword, he was confident that just one extra concealed weapon would have given him the edge.
‘Still, my body feels heavier than expected. I suppose my strength hasn’t fully recovered since the rift incident in the deep sea.’
While Yuder calmly assessed his condition, Nathan Zuckerman approached him.
“There’s no need to keep holding onto that sword. Please hand it over—I’ll dispose of it.”
Rather than asking if he was okay, he immediately asked for the broken practice sword. That was just like him. Yuder silently extended the fragments of the training sword to him and opened his mouth.
“Thank you for stepping in at the right moment.”
“You say that as if you did nothing yourself, even though you left the opening for me to enter.”
‘...So he noticed?’
Right before Meghna’s final strike, Yuder had realized his already cracked and nearly broken practice sword would not be able to withstand the ominous force about to be unleashed. He could have partially shielded himself using water power, but he was certain the sword would shatter. So instead, he decided to draw the remaining power he had to protect the onlookers, while simultaneously deflecting a °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° portion of the incoming aura and retreating.
‘Dodging was easier than a direct clash.’
What made him change that plan in a split second was sensing Nathan Zuckerman’s movement as he unsheathed his sword and tried to dive in. In that instant, Yuder had created a narrow gap in his power field to make it easier for Nathan to enter. It had all happened in less than the blink of an eye.
“At best, it was a narrow path that most people wouldn’t have even noticed. The fact that you found it and broke through is thanks to your skill, Sir Zuckerman.”
Upon hearing Yuder’s response, Nathan Zuckerman replied with a blank expression.
“You flatter me.”
“Why would I flatter you, Sir Zuckerman?”
Yuder responded as if he’d just heard something absurd.
“You were the one who destroyed the sword body in a single strike, preventing the aura from continuing to burst forth. That was your judgment. Without such skill, it wouldn’t have been possible. I didn’t do anything but block stray aura and dodge.”
For once, Nathan Zuckerman remained silent for a moment longer than usual.
“...You saw all of that clearly. In that short instant.”
“I see things like that all the time.”
At that moment, someone draped a coat gently over Yuder’s shoulders. When he turned his head, Kishiar was standing there with a smiling face.
“Here. Now that it’s over, you should put something on so you don’t get cold. Are you thirsty?”
“I’m fine.”
“You look tired.”
“Mm... I’ll be fine soon.”
“Then how about going to the infirmary?”
Yuder could feel Kishiar’s red eyes scanning his arms, cheeks, and various other parts of his body. These were all the places where he had been scratched and torn during the spar, showing thin traces of blood. The sensation of being touched just by his gaze—without even a fingertip laid—was remarkable. Yuder looked down at where the gaze had landed and shook his head.
“This will heal after a good sleep. But Deputy Curlieva should probably go.”
“My, you’re so stoic it’s hard to worry about you.”
Kishiar softened his brows and chuckled. Yuder blinked, wondering if his answer had made Kishiar worry, but the man shook his head as if reading his thoughts.
“If it doesn’t hurt, that’s fine. But if anything bothers you later, even a little, promise me you’ll either come to me or go to the infirmary. Can you do that?”
“......Yes.”
“Good.”
The man, smiling like a flower, pulled something from his coat and held it out to Yuder.
‘...A handkerchief?’
Unsure whether it was meant for wiping himself or for some other purpose, Yuder took it and stared at it in confusion. Kishiar smiled with his eyes and whispered sweetly and softly.
“Giving a handkerchief to the victor of the best duel—that’s the highest praise a supporter can offer. Will you accept it?”
‘...Praise?’
Yuder’s brows twitched slightly. He vaguely knew that there was once a tradition where admirers gifted handkerchiefs to knights who won duels or spars. But as far as he remembered...
‘It was something noble ladies did.’
He blinked a few times but didn’t say it aloud. When he quietly accepted the handkerchief Kishiar offered, the man’s faint smile deepened into one of immense satisfaction. Thinking that he wouldn’t have seen that smile if he’d refused, Yuder felt glad he hadn’t said anything.
He held the handkerchief carefully and tucked it into his pocket. The scent that clung to it—Kishiar’s unique fragrance—was too distracting to simply wipe his face with it.
“Yuder.”
General Gino, supporting his disciple, approached with a warm smile.
“Thank you for showing such an incredible duel. I never imagined I’d get to see a fight like that.”
“You flatter me.”
“Now, now. No need to be overly modest. It was a valuable time—I got to confirm that all the Cavalry members who copied your style were praising you truthfully. And more than that... you gave my disciple an enormous realization, didn’t you?”