The Star That Blows the Horn (3)
Najin felt the turbulence within him. The seed buried underground sought the surface and wanted to pierce through the dense earth and blossom into the world. Cracks ford in the soil where the seed was planted, allowing light to seep through the tiny crevices.
Flash.
Najin’s Sword Aura deepened. With one step—just one more step—he charged forward.
Kaaaang!
Helt Knight, wielding his lance, fended off the incoming attack and turned his gaze toward Najin. The mont he caught sight of Najin’s starlight, he briefly froze.
The stillness was fleeting, followed by a resounding roar from the Hornblower.
A constellation that had lost its star instinctively desired a new one. A radiant white star—sothing it could never possess again—was the object of its yearning.
The Hornblower leaped forward like a wild beast, clawing at the ground. Its movents could only be described as beastlike.
Boom!
Using not just its legs but also its arms and the lance in its grip, the Hornblower charged toward Najin. Slamming the lance into the ground, the creature propelled itself forward, closing the distance in a single bound before swinging its clawed hand.
The Hornblower had fallen as a Forgotten Star decades prior. Its body, which had endured cycles of injury and recovery over the years, had long since been replaced in large part by starlight. It was difficult to find any semblance of humanity in its form. That lack of human elents, however, ant its inefficiencies were also erased.
Even its clawed hands were no different from the talons of a beast. When its claws lashed out, the sound of blades slicing through the air whished by. The mont Najin’s Sword Aura clashed with the beast’s sweeping claws, a deafening sound echoed through the air.
Ka-ga-ga-ga-ga-gang!
Sparks scattered like embers. Simultaneously, the Hornblower swung the lance in its remaining hand. Seeing the oncoming strike ripping through the air, Najin made no attempt to block.
Slash!
His sword sliced through the lance.
No matter how much aura coated it, gaps existed. The worn, aged lance couldn’t endure even a second against Najin’s sword.
Thud!
Yet, the Hornblower was no stranger to reality. As soon as the lance was severed, it stomped on the ground with the foot it had lifted to advance. The impact sent tremors through the ground, causing another embedded lance to shoot upward.
With a sharp motion, the Hornblower seized the rising lance and imdiately thrust it forward. There was no distinction between the two movents. Just as a master of Iaido seamlessly draws and strikes, so too did the Hornblower attack without pause.
As a martial artist who had transcended with a single lance, its skill was beyond mortal comprehension.
Thwack!
The speed of the thrust was so great that the air in front of the lance spiraled into a vortex, converging at a single point before detonating. Najin was astounded by the technique, even as he witnessed it with his own eyes.
That aura… how sharp it was!
The mont Najin parried the aura-laden lance, the recoil traveled not just to his palm but up his arm, through his shoulder, and into his entire body.
Crack!
His joints scread in protest, and blood vessels bulged in his strained eyes as he tracked the Hornblower’s movents. Unable to perfectly evade the attack, his flesh tore. He bit down hard on the blood filling his mouth and swung his sword.
Kaaaang!
If not for Helt Knight distracting the Hornblower and covering Najin’s openings, he would have already collapsed, a hole punched clean through his body.
The opponent was powerful—a foe Najin could never defeat alone.
Still, Najin thought, ‘But it’s not overwhelming.’
When he had faced Yuel Razian, Karan, and Gerd Isabalt—the three Sword Masters of the continent—he had felt an oppressive sense of futility. It had been as though, no matter what he did, he could never win. Against the Hornblower, he saw clear gaps.
Once a Transcendent, now a Fallen Star. Unlike the Sword Masters who could unleash sword energy across hundreds of ters or manifest their will into reality to suppress him, this Fallen Star lacked such abilities. That was to be expected. A being who had lost themselves could no longer imbue their aura with their essence.
The Hornblower’s aura was incomplete. Its sharpness and weight were formidable, but it lacked the unshakable foundation—the Mystique—that true Transcendents possessed.
Kaaaang!
Even so, it was still powerful, but it wasn’t to the extent that victory was impossible. Lowering his blade, Najin feigned retreat, creating the illusion of widening the distance before swinging his sword in a grand arc.
Sssshhhh!
The compressed Sword Aura stretched out like a whip, sweeping through the surroundings. Though the Hornblower easily deflected the dispersed attack, it wasn’t Najin’s true aim.
The scattered debris from shattered lances filled the area. Closing the gap in an instant, Najin severed the Hornblower’s lance. If it wished to seize a new weapon, it would have to retreat just as Najin had earlier.
The mont the Hornblower roared and turned to reach for another lance, Najin’s Sword Aura finally struck its body.
Clang!
Of course, it wasn’t a significant blow. The tip of Najin’s sword rely scraped against the Hornblower’s armor. The creature hadn’t even bothered to block the attack, finding it unthreatening.
To the Hornblower, it was a aningless strike, but to Najin, it was not.
“How unbecoming of a knight to scream so disgracefully.” Najin’s blade had sliced through the helts attached to the Hornblower’s armor—those open-faced visors from which it had bellowed like a beast. When one of the helts shattered and fell, the creature’s roars grew quieter.
Lifting the tip of his sword, Najin smirked. “If you insist on behaving like a beast, so be it.” Starlight glimred at the tip of his blade. “I will treat you as a knight.”
A star shone brightly.
The eroded star gazed upon the blindingly radiant New Star. The light emanating from the New Star was sothing the old star had lost long ago. Watching this sight, the ancient star involuntarily let out a laugh.
‘What a lunatic, truly.’ Helt Knight, who was pressuring the Hornblower in tandem with Najin, couldn’t help but think.
The Hornblower was an overwhelmingly strong opponent. For Najin, it was an uphill battle, even with Helt Knight’s assistance.
One wrong move, and he would be killed or gravely injured. That boy, as if he had multiple lives, moved even more aggressively. What was even more astonishing was that his speed gradually increased.
Despite accumulating wounds, bleeding profusely, and being knocked to the ground repeatedly, Najin picked himself up each ti, charged forward, and attacked again. At that point, it was hard to tell who the true unrelenting monster was.
Ka-ga-ga-ga-gak!
Helt Knight thrust his lance at the Hornblower, and a bitter taste filled his mouth. The Hornblower wasn’t paying attention to him—its focus was entirely on Najin, despite the fact that Helt Knight had inflicted far more injuries and posed a greater threat.
‘Cold-hearted bastard.’ Even so, Helt Knight couldn’t deny the exhilaration of the mont. Najin’s relentless attacks were forcing the Hornblower to adjust its movents.
‘Just a little more.’ Helt Knight swung his lance and dashed forward, slamming his weapon into the ground to disrupt the Hornblower’s footing and halt its wild movents. Whenever its arms and joints twisted unnaturally, like those of a beast, Helt Knight struck, breaking its rhythm.
‘Push yourself a little further, kid.’ Interfering with the Hornblower, Helt Knight guided Najin’s movents.
As if understanding his intent, Najin imdiately followed suit.
Flash.
Najin’s Sword Aura shone even more intensely.
Helt Knight recognized the change at once. That kid—he was about to sprout. He was stepping into the Sprouting Stage, the threshold to becoming a Sword Master.
Having passed through that stage long ago, Helt Knight understood what Najin was attempting.
‘Alright, I can’t just stand around.’ Though gaps were beginning to appear in the Hornblower’s defenses, the injuries Najin sustained were piling up as well. Dragging things out further would only upset the precarious balance.
‘It’s ti.’ Helt Knight made his decision. He forcefully swung his lance, driving the Hornblower back before planting his feet firmly into the ground.
Gripping his lance with both hands, he shouted, “Najin!”
At the sa ti, Najin hurled his sword high into the air. Then, like the Hornblower had done earlier, he stomped on the ground.
Thud.
A lance embedded in the ground shot into the air. Catching it mid-flight, Najin assud a stance identical to Helt Knight’s. The form was sharp, enough to impress even the veteran knight.
‘Well, it seems my efforts to teach him weren’t wasted.’ Though he hadn’t expected Najin to master it so quickly.
Najin and Helt Knight thrust their lances toward the Hornblower simultaneously. As the air spiraled into whirlwinds around the lanceheads, violent storms surged forward in unison.
Lance of the Crossed Star.
The technique was the pride and symbol of the Golden Horn Knights, and one the Hornblower had once taken great confidence in. Now, that sa technique erupted from Najin and Helt Knight.
Ka-ga-ga-ga-ga-gak!
Naturally, Najin’s storm was weaker than Helt Knight’s. He hadn’t yet fully mastered the skill, but it was enough to montarily disrupt the Hornblower’s movents.
The opening created by Najin’s strike allowed Helt Knight’s lance to pierce through, penetrating the Hornblower’s side, shattering its armor and sending black blood spraying into the air. The lance the Hornblower had been holding was torn apart by the storm.
Blood spattered; shattered lances littered the ground, and embedded deep in its side was the lance.
The Hornblower had plenty of other lances to grab—the starfield surrounding it was littered with countless embedded lances—but it did not reach for another.
Grip.
Instead, the Hornblower grasped the lance lodged in its side with both hands. Its gaze t Helt Knight’s. Or rather, what could be called its gaze. The dark star serving as its head t Helt Knight’s eyes.
The Hornblower twisted the lance embedded in its body.
Even the most skilled lancers prepared for scenarios in which their weapon was grabbed. They had answers for how to disarm their opponent or retrieve their weapon, and as a forr Sword Master, the Hornblower was no exception: it twisted its grip, rotating the lance within its palm.
Caught off guard, Helt Knight lost his hold on the weapon. Who could have expected such a maneuver at that mont? It was unthinkable. The skill was ant to be used when the lance was aid at an enemy—not when it was buried in its own flesh.
Thwack!
The lance twisted within the Hornblower’s side, ripping open the wound even further. Blood sprayed like a fountain from the gash, and chunks of torn flesh fell to the ground.
Yet, as if unfazed, the Hornblower pulled the lance from its side.
Crunch…
It slowly straightened its body and swung the bloodied lance to cast away the entrails clinging to it. Then, gripping the weapon firmly, it stood tall.
“…”
The Hornblower, which had previously roared like a beast, was silent. For the first ti, it fully extended its posture. With both feet planted firmly on the ground, it grasped the lance with both hands.
The Lance of the Crossed Star, once again in the hands of its original wielder, glowed faintly.
Radiant starlight beat down upon its body and washed over the blackened star and its corpse-like form. Of course, that did not an that a miracle would occur, such as the Hornblower regaining its sanity.
The Hornblower remained a Forgotten One, a Fallen Star, and yet…
Who said a Fallen Star could not shine?
The blackened star reflected the radiant light of the New Star, taking on a pale glow. Though it could no longer produce light of its own, it beca luminous by reflecting the light of another.
The Hornblower began to shine.
Its light was not dazzling and was neither warm nor brilliant. Instead, it was murky, dull, and far removed from the typical radiance of starlight.
Did that truly matter?
What mattered was that the star shone at all.
The Hornblower planted its feet on the ground and straightened its hunched back. From beneath the shattered remains of its gauntlet, its human fingers erged, gripping the lance tightly.
It still had no rational mind—what remained in its body was pure instinct.
Still, its instincts roared; a mory buried deep within its being urged it forward: ‘Take your stance. Grip your lance. Show your utmost.’ Such was the etiquette owed to one’s opponent.
Thus, the beast, while still a beast, beca a knight.
The dark star that had replaced its head began to sink. As the star faded, the night sky beca visible in the void left behind. Stars twinkled in the blackened void, taking the place of the Hornblower’s eyes.
The Hornblower did not sound its horn, nor did it let out a battle cry.
Instead, it fell silent.
The Silent Knight, Crunbelle, gripped his lance, tip pointed toward Najin—the star that had reignited his light. Crunbelle would present his ultimate display.
What would he show…?
He would show the strongest strike he could muster: ‘The Battle Ram.’
A storm swirled around Crunbelle.
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