Fighting Moore

Atofe smirked, though it did not look like one of arrogance. I did not find it repulsive or unpleasant, to be honest. She looked genuinely amused and intrigued.

"As much as I would want to test you with my own two hands, I won't be able to see much if the fight is so uneven. Fighting a child is beneath me." Atoferatofe turned to her aide that had been standing beside her throne the entire time, "Moore. You go and test this brave one."

The person she addressed, Moore, was the only other individual he had seen since arriving on the Demon Continent who did not wear a helmet, though he wore the same black armour as everyone else. He looked like a handsome old man who was still physically robust though he should be in his twilight years. He had white hair and red eyes, along with a white beard that covered half his face.

Moore stepped forward and went down on one knee infront of Atoferatofe. "Your servant understands."

He then stood back up and walked towards me while unsheathing his sword. I similarly stood up from my kneeling position and readied myself.

"Demon King, my sword…"

Atoferatofe nodded, waving her hand.

"Here. Catch." One of the knights that had escorted me into the palace called out and threw my sword in my direction.

I caught the sheathed blade and removed it from its scabbard before tossing the now empty scabbard aside.

Moore stopped some distance away, his naked blade held with both hands and pointing vertically downwards, the tip resting on the floor.

"Young Hero." He addressed me, "Rudeus, was it? I admire your resolve. Though I also want to see you be able to leave and reunite with your family, we the Imperial Knights of the Immortal Demon King cannot disobey our orders."

I nodded. This man was just doing his job. I could understand it. But as a person who was standing in my way, I would not hesitate to cut him down so that I could return to my family in the Central Continent.

The man continued, though he leaned in slightly and whispered, "Listen. Don't try to win. Trust me."

I was taken aback by his words. What was he saying? That I should lose? How could I let that happen? Defeating him would let me leave this castle and journey back to the Central Continent. There was no way I would not give it my all to win.

I frowned with displeasure. What was this, a psychological attack? Was he trying to play mind games with me? How cheap. My respect for him fell by several levels after hearing what he had to say.

Moore looked like he wanted to say more, but the Demon King called out from the back, "Hey stop talking! Fight already!"

The handsome old knight sighed, looking reluctant. He straightened his back and held up his sword, "Moore, Imperial Guard of the immortal Demon King."

It was a customary introduction that preceded a duel. I returned the gesture.

"Rudeus Greyrat, bodyguard of the Boreas Family."

We stood facing each other for a tense moment, sharing an uncomfortable silence as we analysed the other party with our eyes. Mana was being released from our body, enveloping our skin with a layer of Battle Aura while our muscles were being strengthened.

The weight and quality of his mana told me all I needed to know about his strength. Moore was covered in King-rank Battle Aura. Shit. But I did not have the wherewithal to care about trifling matters like a difference in strength. I had to win. I needed to win. No matter what!

His stance belonged to the North God school, I realized.

The three main sword styles had a rock-paper-scissors relationship. Water God style that used an impenetrable defence and timely counters triumphed against the Sword God style that relied on direct speed and strength. However, the characteristics of the Water God style made it weak against the North God style which had hard-to-read trickeries and subterfuge layered in their techniques.

Even so, though the North God style was strong against the Water God style, it is overwhelmed by the Sword God style with straightforward speed that emphasized on cutting down their enemies with a single strike. Trickery and deception was meaningless against an opponent who disregarded seeing through their enemies' technique.

And so, I shifted my own stance into one of the Sword God style. Following the philosophy of the first Sword God, I struck first.

The moment I moved, the audience, including Atoferatofe, cheered like they were watching a gladiator match.

Sword Saint technique: Piercing Blade! This was the technique that represented speed amongst Saint-rank Sword God techniques. In swordplay, a stab was considered the fastest move one could use with a blade. It did not require the user to swing his sword. It was a straight forward, piercing movement that relied on reaching its intended destination in the shortest time and path possible.

Nothing fancy was required. Piercing Blade was not necessarily a sword technique. It required the user to comprehend how to move their body in a way that could instantly explode with intense speed. It relied on many facets like feet positioning, hip rotation, and circulating mana in a certain way. This was the Saint-rank technique I comprehended the fastest of the four. Not to brag, but I was talented at moving my body instinctively.

As expected, Moore reacted instantly. His sword cut through the air and moved to block my stab. However, his apparent parry was only a feint. Using his superior speed, he easily evaded the piercing thrust and his large figure was already next to me before I realized it.

In that moment, I saw death.

I suppressed the shock in my heart and poured mana into my left torso while at the same time channelled mana into the ring I wore on my finger. The next moment, a heavy slash landed on my body and I was blown away. My feet skidded against the ground and I steadied myself.

Blood gushed out from my side. There was a deep gash, and I assumed the audience in the right angle could see the white of my ribs through the wound.

If I had not activated the Ring of Protection that instantly activated magic armour around my body, I might have been cut in half from that. The slash from Moore which was filled with King-rank Battle Aura tore through the magic armour and still had enough strength to penetrate my Battle Aura and leave a grievous injury.

This was the strength of a genuine North King. The North God style that most saw as just a practical swordsmanship that highlighted survival and trickery was just as overwhelming as any sword style when one broke through King-rank with it.

I intentionally displayed another ring on my finger. It was a Ring of Healing. I held myself back from displaying my Magic Sword techniques. Against an opponent who was as strong as or stronger than me, surprise was the greatest advantage of my Magic Sword style.

I used silent magic to control my descent when I was free falling, but it seemed that none of the guards realized I had used magic to do so. Thus, no one thought I was capable of casting spells without incantations.

The Ring of Healing activated, and the wound on my side knitted together. While the green glow of Healing magic covered my body, I used this light to disguise the mana I was gathering in my body. I silently casted spells and stored them at various places. I intended to release all of them at once in a single surprise attack. I felt that a sneak attack would be the greatest chance I had of winning this fight.

"Magic, huh? I can do that too." Moore spoke, and thrust his hand at me.

"O spirit of wind. Tear, cut and rend. [Sickle Field]!" Spinning blades of wind that glowed a pale green materialized around Moore before flying towards me.

His incantation was short. I knew the spell he had casted. It was an Advanced rank Wind spell that should have two long lines of incantations. He was able to shorten the chanting and cast the spell without the full incantation. He was the first person I knew who could do this. It was impressive, but hmph, using magic against me?

I layered my sword with Battle Aura and cut through the Wind Blade that threatened to dice me into pieces. If one knew the magical theory behind a spell, cutting through it like what I was doing became easy as long as you could see through the weak points of the spell.

However, Moore was not relying on magic to take me down. He was ultimately a North King, and his sword was his primary weapon. [Sickle Field] was only used as a distraction. This was something I understood as well.

Moore dashed forward, his right hand held on to his sword while his left hand fished out three throwing knives somewhere from his armour. He channelled mana in to the knives and threw them at me. These were not the easily broken wind blades, but knives that were filled with the Battle Aura of a King-rank swordsman.

They flew faster than any of the wind blades, reaching me in an instant. I could only deflect two and was forced to take the last one with my shoulder. The knife stabbed deeply, reaching bone in an instant. Intense, blinding pain flared through my body. I had to bite down my bottom lip, drawing blood, in order to keep my consciousness on alert.

Moore arrived next to me, his sword already prepared to cut me down.

"You will thank me later, young Hero."

Yeah? Well fuck you too. I smirked and released the spells I had prepared and stored on my body in an instant.

[Quagmire] softened the ground and disrupted Moore's balance.

[Earthen Dash] lent me the necessary momentum to kick start my inertia.

[Wind Blade] coated a layer of razor sharp mana that heightened the lethality of my blade even further.

Three stacks of [Afterburner] pumped full of mana blasted out - two on my back and one on my elbow. Jets of focused fire accelerated my body and speed to a level I could not achieve with just my physical body.

And the final cherry on top of the Magic Sword sundae was a bright explosion that ignited right in front of Moore's face. It was a spell I hastily modified and came up with on the spot, based on the Beginner-rank [Fireball]. I dramatically increased the brightness of the explosion while tossing aside explosive power, taking a page from Almanfi's playbook. I called it [Flashbang].

The intense light blinded Moore for a moment, while my body exploded with speed. Battle Aura filled every inch of my body, and my muscles were pushed beyond their limits to display strength and speed above what I was physically capable of.

My sword soared through the air and cleaved through my opponent. Blood sprayed out, as Moore's body was cut diagonally in half.

I caught a glance at the final look of pain and surprise on Moore's face as his upper body was separated from his lower half.

His torso fell, still unleashing a deluge of blood that splattered across the floor.

I almost fell to one knee, feeling the strain of keeping myself standing with the muscles in my calves and thighs being slightly torn. I used my sword as a cane to stay on my two feet. Pride and triumphant victory refused to let me bend my knee once more.

This was the strength of my Magic Sword style. Its speciality was in sneak attacks using the element of surprise. Once I unveiled all the tricks up my sleeve, my strength would explode past what pure swordsmanship was capable of.

Looking up to the seated Atoferatofe, I breathed out a sigh of relief as the tension and exhaustion rapidly replaced the adrenaline that had been pumping through my veins.

I won. I cut down the person that stood in my way and because of that I won. Even though he was just a soldier doing his job, any person that obstructed me, preventing me from reuniting with my family shall be cut down without hesitation!