The Lost One (6)
Helt Knight did not draw his sword.
The greatsword wrapped in chains remained secured at his waist, its blade hidden.
Instead of unsheathing the weapon, he aid his lance at Najin.
Najin gazed at the lance. It was an unusual design: the blade resembled an elongated cross-shaped star. It wasn’t a typical lance since its shape allowed for both stabbing and slashing attacks.
He narrowed his eyes as he studied it.
Crackle… pop…
The embers from the campfire flared up and dimd. In the instant a new spark leaped into the air and died down, he stomped on the ground.
Thud—
His heart raced, accelerating the flow of blood and mana. A constellation blood like a flower along the length of his blade, transforming into thorny vines that coiled tightly around his sword.
Energy compressed along the longsword’s blade, the sharp aura crackling under intense pressure.
Widespread energy was useful for cutting magic, blocking attacks, or intercepting projectiles, but when weapons clashed directly, compressing the aura was far more efficient, especially against a stronger opponent.
‘I need to raise the density of my Sword Aura.’
The blade brimd with compressed energy, radiating flashes of white and gold. The brilliance outshone the dim light of the campfire.
As Helt Knight shifted slightly within the glow, Najin pushed off the ground and charged.
Tick—
It took just over a second.
By the ti the embers flickered once more, he was already swinging his sword at Helt Knight. From the start, he gave it his all—an approach warranted by such an opponent.
The blade cut through the air, aid precisely. To him, it was a perfect strike.
Clang!
Helt Knight disagreed. Compared to Najin’s powerful motion, his movents were light yet unwavering. A gray aura flickered along the edge of his lance, catching Najin’s blade completely.
Spin—
Helt Knight twisted his lance’s shaft, trapping the sword between the cross-shaped blade and the body of the lance.
His torso exposed, Najin saw the knight extend a leg toward him.
He reacted instantly and switched his two-handed grip on the sword to one hand and raised his other arm to block the kick. His fingers, caught between the knight’s armored greaves, scread in protest with a sharp crack, but he endured.
Using the force of the kick to his advantage, he spun in place.
His blade screeched as it scraped free of the lance’s blade, the motion smooth and fluid. That fluidity allowed him to seamlessly incorporate another action into his movent—a counterattack.
Leveraging centrifugal force, he swung his blade toward Helt Knight with ferocity.
The knight, of course, retaliated.
Clang!
Sword Aura clashed with gray aura, the resulting impact sending Najin skidding backward. He looked up to et Helt Knight’s gaze.
The two locked eyes.
The flurry of exchanges had lasted only monts, but it was enough for each to gauge the other’s level. Both, almost simultaneously, burst into laughter.
Helt Knight steadied his grip on his lance and stepped forward. “I’m coming.”
“Anyti.”
The duel began in earnest.
When Helt Knight switched to an offensive stance, Najin was astonished and equally unsettled. The raw power generated by the knight’s massive fra was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just brute strength.
Thud—
Helt Knight stomped and thrust his lance.
The action could be described in a single sentence, but the nuances between those words were filled with intricate details.
Najin’s eyes caught them all—the depth of the knight’s step, the way his shoulders and arms moved, the angle of the lancehead, the precise distribution of strength—it all worked together like the interlocking gears of a machine.
Every movent was flawless, and together, they created a perfect strike.
Whoosh!
The lance shot forward with a shrill whistle.
His eyes widened as he parried the blow. The force sent Najin sliding back, but the knight didn’t stop; his movents flowed seamlessly, one attack linking to the next.
Clang! Clang!
Sparks flew as Sword Aura and gray aura collided. Najin’s senses scread as if lightning bolts were flashing before his eyes—not a physical phenonon, but a visceral warning of danger.
‘This is insane,’ Najin groaned inwardly, but he also felt admiration.
Even with his exceptional eyesight and talent for reading movents, he struggled to follow Helt Knight’s actions. Deciphering them was even harder.
His ability to analyze an opponent’s techniques and avoid being struck twice by the sa move—a skill that had always been his strength—was barely effective.
The knight’s movents were too perfect.
Each sequence of actions demanded multiple observations to fully grasp, and even when Najin understood them, replicating the precision was impossible.
The level of physical control and strength distribution was beyond him.
A transcendent… A master…
The knight was undoubtedly one of the masters, those who had achieved unparalleled skill with their chosen weapon. Though Helt Knight might no longer be a transcendent, he had clearly been one in the past.
Stars, aura, even swordsmanship might wear down with ti, but the techniques they honed never faded.
Helt Knight’s mastery was absolute; he pressed Najin relentlessly, forcing him onto the defensive.
Najin gritted his teeth and countered, unwilling to remain on the back foot. Being passive wasn’t in his nature.
Clang!
When Najin launched his first counterattack, Helt Knight grinned. It was as though he had been waiting for this mont. His repertoire expanded, unveiling new techniques with every move, daring Najin to adapt.
He rose to the challenge.
When the lance thrust forward like a viper, Najin tilted his sword to deflect it.
The knight transitioned from a thrust to a slash, and Najin twisted his blade to disrupt the lance’s trajectory. The lance shaft swept over his head with a whoosh.
The missed attack should have left an opening—it didn’t.
Thud!
Helt Knight stomped and redirected the lance with a powerful swing. Muscles beneath his scarred, exposed arm bulged as he brought the weapon down like a hamr.
Najin barely managed to intercept it with his sword.
Crash!
The force nearly drove him to his knees. His joints groaned under the weight, but he held firm and retaliated.
Clang! Clang!
The duel continued at a blistering pace. Every attack and counterattack was accompanied by split-second calculations and adjustnts. When predictions failed, instincts and quick thinking filled the gaps.
Shhhhk!
Najin slid back, absorbing the impact of the knight’s attack. He quickly steadied himself and charged forward again. It was not his usual fighting style.
He didn’t hide, exploit the terrain, or seek opportunities to retreat or widen the distance. There were no tactics to exploit weaknesses or variables. Instead, he fought head-on, not as Ivan’s Hunting Dog, but as Ivan’s squire—a knight in training.
Despite being outmatched, despite knowing he was weaker, he refused to back down.
He t Helt Knight face-to-face, sword to lance, honorably.
Helt Knight recognized it. Though his face was hidden, his expression must have mirrored Najin’s—anticipation, excitent, and a grin.
It was a fight to the death. Flesh tore, bones broke, and blood spilled, and yet, what did it matter?
It was a duel—a contest of honor between two warriors.
In duels, variables always existed. Victory and defeat often hinged on the smallest details. Rarely did a battle end with one side achieving complete dominance, yet it was precisely such battles that knights and warriors sought.
That was the essence of a duel.
Crash! Thud!
Dust and debris filled the air as a pile of rocks crumbled. Both Najin and Helt Knight paused, waiting for the dust to settle.
Instead of attacking, they used their weapons to clear the air.
When their gazes t through the fading haze, both exhaled in laughter, and then they clashed again.
There were no written rules, only unspoken ones. It was a fight to the death, yet both adhered to an unspoken code of conduct.
If anyone else had seen it, they might have laughed at the foolishness or called it naïve, but such was chivalry—honor and pride, separated from folly by a hair’s breadth.
It was a duel; nothing else mattered but the opponent before them.
Najin’s glowing, constellation-like Sword Aura shone white and gold, while Helt Knight’s gray, ash-colored aura resembled rusted armor.
When the two auras collided, the knight’s power burned faintly, as if whispering, ‘I can still shine.’
Najin knew a decisive move was coming.
Helt Knight shifted, his breathing deep. His posture changed, signaling an imminent and significant attack.
Najin braced himself, eyes wide, as the knight stomped, lowered his lance, gripping it with both hands, and twisted his body like a coiled spring.
With an explosive release, Helt Knight thrust his lance forward.
The motion was simple—just a thrust—but when executed by a master, simplicity beca divine. His entire strength and technique condensed into the tip of his lance.
Whoosh!
The air around the lance warped, swirling into a cyclone.
Najin reacted instinctively, raising his blade to intercept it.
Boom!
The collision launched him into the air. His surroundings blurred as he flew backward, eventually slamming into a boulder with a deafening crash.
The rock crumbled under the impact. He gasped, his body screaming in pain. His arm, shoulder, and fingers throbbed, so were definitely broken.
Grinding his teeth, he pushed himself out of the rubble.
The duel wasn’t over.
Helt Knight closed the distance instantly, his lance aid directly at Najin.
Gritting his teeth, Najin raised his trembling blade with his injured arm, steadying it with his other hand. Even if it cost him another limb, it was better than dying.
The next attack never ca.
The lance stopped short, hovering in front of Najin’s sword.
Helt Knight smiled and spoke. “I’ve won. Would you agree?” He gestured with his chin, signaling for Najin to admit defeat.
Realizing what he ant, Najin let out a chuckle.
Not all duels ended in life and death. When both sides gave their all and one admitted defeat, the duel would conclude. There was no need to take it further.
Helt Knight had transford a hunt into a duel, just as Najin had refrad a deadly encounter as a battle of honor.
“Yes, I’ve lost.” Najin nodded and lowered his sword.
Helt Knight withdrew his lance and extended a hand. Najin took it and stood.
In the end, there was no hunter or prey.
There was no victor and slain—only a winner and a loser.
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