Horizon of Glory
"The Annals of Exploration and Empires," Book III, Chapter XVII, Page 211 In the annals of history, few epochs have been as rife with the promise of adventure and the peril of the unknown as the Age of Discovery. It was a time when the very fabric of the world was being stretched, its edges frayed by the bold hands of explorers and conquerors. Among these intrepid souls, one name, has been etched into the annals of legends. The Wars of the Roses, a conflagration that had consumed the heart of empires and forged kings from the crucible of blood and fire, had at last given way to an uneasy peace. It was in this aftermath, amidst the smoldering ruins of a world reshaped by conflict, that Byron's journey began. Armed with a relic of untold power, the "Navigation Logbook," he set forth into the uncharted waters of the world, where the mundane and the magical intertwined in an intricate dance. The high seas, a vast and uncharted canvas, stretched before him, a horizon that whispered of untold riches and the promise of peril. Great ships, their sails billowing like the wings of colossal birds, traversed these waters, their cannons thundering a challenge to the very gods of the deep. It was an age of ambition, a testament to the unyielding spirit of mankind's quest for dominion over the unknown. Beneath the waves, ancient beings from epochs long past slumbered, their legends carried on the creaking timbers of ships and the roar of cannons. Byron, undaunted by the shadows that lurked beneath the waves or the tempests that raged above, carved out a kingdom from the chaos that enveloped the world. His fleet, a specter of doom, became a symbol of his indomitable will, a force that would not be challenged lightly. This is a saga, a tale woven from the threads of history and magic, adventure and power, and the eternal quest for glory. It is a narrative that compels the heart and captures the imagination, a story that resonates through the ages, a reminder of the heights to which humanity can aspire when driven by the winds of ambition and the tides of destiny. Let this account, penned by the hands of the most esteemed historians and literature masters, serve as a beacon for those who seek to embark upon their own voyages of discovery. For within the pages of this epic tale lies the essence of the human spirit, a spirit that seeks, that conquers, and that endures.
HoG - Chapter 12
Chapter 12: Storm Swordsmanship
The naval warrant officer, Ferguson Blaze, eyed Byron, whose youthful visage belied his prowess. With a bloodthirsty sneer, he raised his boarding axe and declared, "In your next life, don't be a pirate again. Return to the Lord!"
In this world where cold weapons never faded from the annals of history, warriors wielded a myriad of weapons and combat techniques, many of which stemmed from refined swordsmanship styles. Regardless of the chosen weapon, training began with the sword, as all offensive methods could be distilled into three forms: slashing, thrusting, and cutting.
Ferguson adopted one of the four basic stances, the "Roof Style," lifting his boarding axe high. With a powerful slash, he aimed to end the duel in one decisive move.
However, Byron had already read his opponent's history. His ability, "Echoes of History," revealed Ferguson's background: a 21-year-old, 204 cm tall warrior, whose family-inherited chainmail had seen battles such as Crécy and Poitiers, now fallen into disrepair. His battle axe, 162 cm long and weighing 2.6 kg, was wielded with a rigid, three-step approach—a testament to his military training, which lacked the fluidity of a true knight.
Byron, recognizing Ferguson's limitations, chose not to block. With a precise half-step back, he evaded the deadly slash, the gale from the axe's passage harmlessly ruffling his hair. His control over distance was impeccable.
Ferguson's expression shifted as he transitioned into the "Fool Style," aiming a forceful thrust at Byron. Thrusting, the most lethal of sword techniques, was also the easiest to dodge when executed predictably.
Byron sidestepped the thrust with grace, closing in on Ferguson like the wind. Employing the Storm Swordsmanship, Thrusting Step, Byron's movements were as choreographed as a dance, with Ferguson unwittingly offering his vital points to Byron's blade.
Swordsmanship adhered to four basic principles: judgment, distance, timing, and position. These principles guided the combination of the "Roof," "Bull," "Hoe," and "Fool" stances, ensuring swordsmen could deliver the most direct and effective attacks or defenses, leading to victory. Byron's "Echoes of History" granted him a significant edge in understanding his opponent's moves and attack distances. His awakened "Spirituality" allowed for perfect control of his body, seizing every moment in battle.
It was then that Byron struck. Holding the sword hilt with one hand and the counterweight ball with the other, he formed a simple lever. From the "Bull Style," he advanced and spun, unleashing a brilliant flash of sword light. In Storm Swordsmanship, the essence was speed—fast, faster, fastest.
Like the first mate "Bone Crusher" Miles before him, Ferguson didn't comprehend the end until it was upon him. A line of red appeared on his neck, rapidly expanding as his heart's pressure turned it into a fountain of blood. His strength and life spilled out with it. In vain, he clutched his neck, collapsing as he futilely tried to stem the flow of his life.
The naval warrant officer's betrayal of the king and his aspirations to resurrect his family by aligning with the Yorkists met a sudden demise.
Byron felt no remorse as he took a life with his own hands; instead, the blood of the baymen within him seemed to boil even more fiercely. It was as if he were destined for the sea, for the battlefield!
Without a second glance at the fallen corpse, he launched himself at the other naval soldiers who had invaded the pirate ship, unleashing a scene of utter carnage.
Aided by the "Echoes of History," he seamlessly executed various swordsmanship techniques: "Military Swordsmanship," "Silver Cross Swordsmanship," "Fisher Chop Swordsmanship," "Storm Swordsmanship"...
He targeted lone soldiers, those too eager for glory, striking from the shadows with stealth and precision.
Few among the ordinary naval ranks could withstand even a few of his strikes.
This earned him grateful looks from the pirates he saved, and his reputation on the ship soared.
Yet, Byron's intentions were not to rescue these pirates.
The "Maneater" needed to endure for another ten minutes until the "easterly wind" arrived.
With too few survivors, maneuvering the ship with its hundreds of riggings would be impossible, jeopardizing their escape.
They were all merely tools to him.
However, one is bound to encounter ghosts when walking the night road too often. Just as Byron was stealthily claiming his eighth victim,
A chilling sensation crept up his spine, and his hair stood on end.
Guided by his innate "Spirituality," his body instinctively lunged forward.
In the next instant, a silver shield, its edge gleaming with deadly intent, whizzed past where he had just stood.
It bisected a pirate too slow to dodge, spilling his bloody innards across the deck.
"Ah, save me, save me..."
The pirate, now halved at the waist, did not die instantly but writhed in agony, screaming.
The silver shield returned with a whoosh, landing in the grasp of a middle-aged man clad in an officer's uniform and wielding a two-handed greatsword—Captain Harold, the "Fortress Guardian," the only officer aboard the ship.
Byron's rampage had caught the attention of this supernatural being, prompting him to intervene.
However, under the influence of Byron's inherent "Cognitive Correction," Harold failed to recognize the young man as his primary target.
After catching the shield, Lieutenant Colonel Harold prepared to strike again.
But he noticed that Byron had already used the chaos as cover and, with the agility of a monkey, had darted to the side of the ship's other supernatural being, "Blood Eye" Salman.
"Hmph! That 'Son of the Demon' worth 5,000 pounds, I don't know where he's hiding.
But it doesn't matter. After I kill all you stinking pirates who are stealing our business, I'll find him eventually," Harold muttered to himself.
He slung the shield on his back, adopted the "Bull Style," and held the two-handed greatsword level before his eyes, charging toward Salman, the only opponent worthy of his steel.
Any pirates who inadvertently blocked his path were cleaved in two by his merciless slashes.
Byron stole a glance at the secret he had just uncovered and dared not linger by his captain's side, dashing to another part of the battlefield.
In that fleeting glimpse, "Echoes of History" could not decipher the history of Lieutenant Colonel Harold, the supernatural being.
He only saw a [well-crafted two-handed greatsword, heat-treated to a deep blue, measuring 153 cm in length with a blade length of 114 cm and weighing 2.25 kg].
But drawing on his extensive knowledge of natural history, Byron could discern from the opponent's fighting style.
This was a fortress sequence "Fortress Guardian."
Sequence Motto: Fight for every inch of land!
With formidable will and resilience, as well as integrated offensive and defensive capabilities, this profession was akin to an impenetrable fortress, making it one of the most dreaded adversaries.
Salman, the "Blood Eye," led into a trap by Byron, could only place his faith in his "navigation skills" to bring about a miracle.
He chose to fight with all his might.
"I cannot abandon these meticulously trained subordinates and... the provisions on this ship.
I'll escape with the sharks I've raised when the situation becomes untenable," he resolved.
His right hand, gnarled with gout and somewhat deformed, drew a giant sailor's cutlass nearly as large as the two-handed greatsword.
With his left hand, he downed a bottle of Bacardi rum, its 84.5° alcohol concentration enhanced by an unknown additive, turning it a blood-red hue.
Boom—!
A fiery aura erupted from the body of the one-meter-fifty, one-hundred-fifty-kilogram, rotund man.
No, his body fat was actually ablaze!
His feet pounded the deck, and to the ordinary sailors, two afterimages collided with a resounding crash.
The clash of blades was deafening, and it was Harold, the "Fortress Guardian," who was forced to retreat a step.
Eyeing the pirate captain, who was visibly shedding pounds, he said gravely, "You are a... second-tier 'Gourmet' of the Gold Coin sequence?"
Byron, who observed this from afar, was astonished to discover that the "Secret: Captain Blood Eye Salman's Unspoken Problem" in the "Navigation Log" had its unlock percentage leap from 20% upon the revelation of his gout, to 40%.