Chapter 20: Swordmaster Kain (3)

Kain first approached Lord Barcan to explain his intentions. He stated that he would teach Ketal about swordsmanship and the concept of Aura. The lord’s expression became even more perplexed, but perhaps having resigned himself to the situation, he nodded with a small sigh. Kain and Ketal then moved to the training ground. “It’s better to start by explaining my swordsmanship. I am Kain the Swordmaster. My technique is the Swordsmanship of Kain.” “Swordsmanship of Kain? Is that your school of thought?” Ketal asked, intrigued. “The swordsmanship I use is my own creation. No one can reach the level of a Swordmaster using another’s technique.” Kain’s tone was calm, as though he were merely stating facts. Ketal’s excitement grew at that demeanor—it implied that Kain was the founder of his own style. Ketal was here to learn the mysteries of the world. Although he had learned basic swordsmanship on Earth, it was merely for health, as most parents encouraged during childhood. It wasn’t anything serious. However, this was true swordsmanship, a mystical, fantasy swordsmanship that utilized Aura. Ketal’s heart raced like an eager child. The thought of experiencing genuine fantasy swordsmanship thrilled him to the point he could barely stay still. Kain unsheathed his sword slowly. “The defining characteristic of my swordsmanship is the materialization of the real and the false. I understand you’ve faced one of my disciples.” “Ah, so that knight was your student?” Ketal asked him. “Yes. I’ve heard a bit about the duel. What did you observe?” “I saw that his sword strikes split into three. All of them were real attacks. It was astonishing.” For most, it would be difficult to deal with such a technique. However, Ketal had already grasped the essence of Kain’s swordsmanship. “So that’s what you mean by materialization. It’s a technique that prioritizes skill over raw power.” “Yes…” Kain nodded, though his expression remained subdued. He was impressed by how quickly Ketal understood. His insight was sharper than most well-educated individuals Kain had met. He couldn’t quite discern the nature of the barbarian before him. After a brief pause to gather his thoughts, he continued, “Swordsmanship is the combination of the sword and Aura, wielding the Myst they create. Those who master it are called Swordmasters.” Kain emphasized his words, and Ketal stared at him, his heart still pounding. With a crackling sound, a bluish flame engulfed Kain’s sword. It looked as though the blade was consumed by blue fire. “Woah!” Ketal couldn’t suppress his amazement. Ketal had always yearned to witness something this fantastical from the world. Tears almost welled up in his eyes. Kain, on the other hand, was taken aback by Ketal’s reaction. Kain thought. Coating a sword in Aura was a basic skill. Any Advanced swordsman could do it. It was certainly not something that should have impressed someone strong enough to overpower him earlier. Bewildered, Kain waved his sword. “You probably can’t fully grasp what I mean by the materialization of the real and the false. Let me show you.” Gripping his sword with both hands, Kain brought it down in a sweeping strike. The blue flame sliced through the air. In an instant, the sword seemed to split, two strikes to the left and two to the right. A total of five simultaneous sword strikes manifested, cutting sharply through the air and converging on a single point. “Woah!” Ketal’s pure admiration burst forth. Five strikes materialized simultaneously. It was clearly a phenomenon impossible to achieve with modern knowledge—a genuine mystery. Kain enjoyed Ketal’s reaction as he sheathed his sword. “There are many techniques that create illusions using Aura, but embedding substance into them is unique to my swordsmanship.” Manipulating the real and the false to disrupt perception—few could counter such a technique. It was the foundation of Kain’s rise to the title of Swordmaster. “I will teach you the specifics shortly,” Kain said. seaʀᴄh thё Novёlƒire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. “Woah…” At last, Ketal felt he was about to learn about the Myst. His gratitude ran deep, and Kain appeared quite satisfied. Kain thought. Even if this barbarian was stronger than him, the realm he had reached was lofty and unparalleled. No one could replicate it. He was certain of that. “Hm?” However, Ketal’s expression gradually shifted to one of confusion, and he tilted his head. “The technique you demonstrated…” “Yes, this is the swordsmanship using Myst! What do you think?” Kain asked him. “I feel like I could do it too.” “What…?” Kain froze. “What nonsense are you spouting?” Kain’s face showed a hint of irritation. He had dedicated his life to the sword, pouring his talent and relentless effort into his craft. The result was his unique swordsmanship. To hear that a barbarian thought he could replicate it was unacceptable. “Let me show you,” Ketal said, grasping the handle of his axe. Only then did Kain notice the weapon in Ketal’s hands. Kain’s eyes widened as he examined the axe. The black gem embedded at the end of the handle, the entirely black shaft and blade, and the ornate carvings along the bandle all suggested it was no ordinary weapon. The axe’s ominously gleaming blade seemed capable of splitting the world itself. On the joint between the blade and the handle was a peculiar symbol. Kain thought. The emblem seemed to represent something, though Kain couldn’t discern what. The intricacy made it clear that this was no ordinary axe. It was too civilized and expensive for a barbarian to have. Kain thought. Before he could ponder further, Ketal raised the axe and flexed his muscles. His muscles bulged as he brought the axe down. Kain watched in disbelief as Ketal performed a series of strikes. One forward, two to the left, and two to the right, a total of five axe strikes landed simultaneously, accompanied by a blast of air that tore through the ground, raising a cloud of dust. Ketal calmly sheathed his axe. “What do you think?” “Uh… ah…” Kain was at a loss for words. Ketal had reproduced Kain’s five simultaneous attacks. But there was a significant difference. Kain screamed internally. Ketal hadn’t used Aura to manipulate reality and illusion. He had simply swung his axe downward, then quickly recovered to strike twice on each side. The sheer speed made it appear simultaneous. It was unheard of. Struggling to form words, Kain finally managed to speak. “What you did was merely swinging your axe. There was no technique!” “But the result is the same. Swordsmanship isn’t for show. It’s for real combat. Isn’t that what matters?” “That… that’s…” Kain couldn’t refute the point. Swordsmanship was ultimately about combat and killing. From that perspective, Ketal’s words held merit. Yet, accepting that the Myst he had painstakingly cultivated could be overcome by brute force alone was something he couldn’t stomach. “Then how about this?” Kain retorted. Gripping his sword once more, he channeled his Aura. It surged widely, responding to his rising emotions. Kain went all out. With a powerful advance, he swung his sword. This time, it wasn’t just his blade that multiplied. His entire body split into seven. He was one entity, yet not one. It was a miracle born from mastering Aura to its utmost limit. It was as if a coordinated group launched a storm-like barrage of attacks in perfect unison. To face him now would feel like fighting seven opponents simultaneously. “Try to imitate this!” Kain shouted, breathing heavily from the exertion. Without a word, Ketal gripped his axe. And then, he swung. The resulting storm was fiercer than anything Kain had produced. It became almost impossible to keep one’s eyes open amidst the chaotic gale. However, Ketal’s technique was entirely different from Kain’s. It wasn’t the delicate manipulation of Aura to turn afterimages into reality. It was simply speed—pure, unadulterated speed that created afterimages due to its intensity. Kain stared in shock as Ketal’s movements produced not seven, but eight simultaneous afterimages. As the storm settled, Ketal sheathed his axe calmly. “Well? What do you think?” “Ah…uh… ah…,” Kain stammered, unable to find the words. *** Kain’s lifelong efforts—his pride, the Myst he believed no one else could replicate—had been shattered in the simplest, most brutish way possible. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, and Ketal looked equally disheartened. Ketal thought, his expression clouded. He had simply swung his axe rapidly. That alone had achieved the same effect as Kain’s cherished technique. However, this wasn’t a Myst or anything special. It was as if a child had seen behind the curtains of a magic show. Ketal’s awe for the Myst had been extinguished. Ketal shook his head. He endured so much. He had faced death hundreds, thousands of times. The span of his experiences dwarfed the lifetime of any ordinary human. His strength, obtained through relentless struggle, was devoid of Aura, mana, or miracles. It was pure, raw power—but it was undeniably overwhelming. And the Swordmaster before him had used his unique techniques to reach such heights. Kain’s age was unclear, but judging by his appearance, he had honed his skills for more than forty or fifty years. To think Kain had achieved so much in such a comparatively short time was nothing short of astounding. It only heightened Ketal’s respect for the value of the Myst. Most importantly, what Ketal had witnessed was only a single technique. There was so much more he wished to learn—magic, more swordsmanship, summoning spirits, alchemy, miracles, divine power, prayers. He yearned to understand and acquire them all. He thought of how the elven queen displayed mysterious abilities with spirits that he could never replicate. Judging Kain’s worth based on one technique alone would be no different from a frog believing the well it lived in was the entire world. Resolute, Ketal quickly recovered his emotions. Kain, however, was still struggling to regain his composure. “Ah… uh…” Kain muttered incoherently, his mouth hanging open. “Uh… huh…”