How to Live as a Genius Knight in a Fantasy World

27.

A two-handed sword is undoubtedly a threatening weapon.

If they possessed the same strength, it would be difficult to dare to block with a one-handed sword or shield.

But this was precisely what happened when they had the same level of strength.

Rohan’s strength was superior to Jace’s, and he was in a state of receiving a powerful buff by wielding both sword and shield simultaneously.

With this alone, it was possible to parry attacks with similar strength, yet Rohan chose not to deflect them head-on.

Unlike the aggressive style of ancient warriors, Eisel’s swordsmanship was balanced between offense and defense.

Protecting oneself first and then attacking the opponent, a classical swordsmanship approach.

Naturally, there were techniques to parry and deflect the opponent’s attacks in various ways.

Even with low proficiency, it was a skill that received an SR grade evaluation.

Until the end, the clash of the two swords filled with aura did not make as much noise as one would expect from the collision of metal against metal.

It was like weathering a storm, flawlessly deflecting the relentless attacks.

From afar in the spectator seats, the Marquis of Izel’s eyes widened as he watched Rohan’s match.

“He’s… grown. No, he’s still growing.”

Although still rough around the edges, Rohan’s sword movements were far more flexible and graceful compared to when he was taught in the old Izel domain.

Suddenly, the Marquis recalled the moment he learned swordsmanship from his father.

“What was I like at that age?”

Having picked up the sword at a much younger age than Rohan, he had been recognized as a skilled swordsman by the time Rohan’s age had arrived.

But his achievements paled in comparison to what Rohan had accomplished in such a short span.

It wasn’t until he was well into his twenties that he truly understood the intricacies of advanced swordsmanship.

“I made the right choice in coming to watch.”

Having attended upon a soldier’s insistence the night before, it had become an opportunity to witness his disciple’s achievements.

“I could have brought Arghen along, too.”

In many ways, it had turned out to be a meaningful occasion, leaving the Marquis in a not unpleasant mood.

On the other hand, Sophia, who sat beside the Marquis, was silently screaming into her hands.

While the Marquis was busy admiring Rohan’s performance, Sophia, lacking deep knowledge of swordsmanship, seemed as if Rohan could strike his opponent at any moment.

So engrossed was she that cold sweat was trickling down her pale face.

“Sophia, look… right?”

The Marquis, intending to teach Sophia through Rohan, made a strange expression.

He felt a sense of discomfort at her pale face, the hand raised as if to cover her eyes, and her trembling legs, which did not seem to match.

At the end of his daughter’s gaze was none other than his one and only disciple, Rohan.

“Hmm…”

Now, as a devoted husband to his wife, the Marquis had a past where he had sown his wild oats with many women during his vigorous youth.

Given such a history, it was impossible not to notice his daughter’s change in demeanor.

He had momentarily paused in his thoughts, but his seasoned rationality soon began to play its role.

One common trait of a proper adult is having a calculator in their head for unexpected situations.

Even in the face of unforeseen circumstances, the Marquis’ mind quickly began to calculate.

Surprisingly, he concluded that Rohan wouldn’t be a bad match for Sophia.

“He’s talented, diligent, with impeccable character. No issues with women, age matches well…”

Although there was a flaw in being of common birth, that could be overcome by proving his skills and becoming a knight.

Since he wasn’t originally of high nobility, having exceptional abilities despite being common wouldn’t be a major drawback.

With his judgment made, the Marquis’ gaze towards Rohan changed.

No longer just a disciple, but a potential son-in-law.

While Rohan’s fight had seemed relaxed until now, once he noticed his daughter’s sentiments, it suddenly felt precarious.

Although the Marquis’ gaze had shifted, in reality, enduring like this was the most efficient choice from Rohan’s perspective.

Engaging in attacks inevitably consumes more resources than defense, and by just withstanding the opponent’s attacks, Rohan was gradually gaining an advantage.

Though Rohan had a relatively upper hand, the difference wasn’t significant enough to easily secure victory.

To finish decisively, he would need to use the Warrior King’s Strike, but it wasn’t a choice he wanted to make when he hadn’t even reached the final round.

For now, wearing down Jace’s stamina was Rohan’s chosen fighting style.

As time passed, Jace’s mind grew restless.

“Damn, why is it so tough.”

Undoubtedly, Jace’s talent was exceptional.

Based on the experience gained from working as a mercenary, reconstructing his swordsmanship on the foundation of what he briefly learned in his youth, Jace’s current swordsmanship was a reflection of that.

It was a remarkable achievement to transform him from a mere lowly mercenary to an elite user, but his swordsmanship also suited the notion of being fundamentally lacking.

His lackluster basics led to a style of swordsmanship that risked life on unconventional tactics, was overly aggressive due to a lack of balance in offense and defense, and completely disregarded the concept of moderation.

As a mercenary who enjoyed ambushes and sneak attacks, his swordsmanship was so finely tuned that the word “optimized” would be fitting, yet paradoxically, his swordsmanship also defined Jace’s limits.

Constantly provoking his opponents and engaging in despicable acts were also influenced by such swordsmanship.

He needed to shake his opponents a bit to create openings in order to achieve an easy victory.

Of course, it was undeniable that his nature readily accepted such behavior.

As he cursed profusely, as was his habit in the waiting room, and looked at the foolishly standing Rohan, he thought he would easily win.

Until he drew his sword, he was convinced of his victory.

But Rohan’s sword was completely different from any opponent he had faced before.

It felt heavy, like cutting through water.

The word “sticky” was apt.

Like a swamp, Rohan’s sword slowly but surely drained Jace’s stamina.

And by the time Jace realized this fact, it was already too late.

Exhausted from his attacks, Jace was panting heavily, sweating profusely, while his opponent remained calm, just as at the beginning of the match.

“There’s no other way now.”

He had to find an opening somehow and keep pressing on.

Although noticeably weaker than before, he forced himself to maintain the offensive.

If Rohan were to counterattack now, Jace felt he wouldn’t be able to hold on.

As the time to feign calmness became increasingly difficult.

A tiny opening appeared in Jace’s eyes.

It was undoubtedly a mistake to let his guard down when he saw Jace, clearly worn out.

Sensing it was his last chance, Jace unleashed all the energy he had saved up, along with his sword.

As he swung his sword, Jace suddenly thought.

That this strike was the finest among all the strikes he had ever made in his life.

The aura of his sword rose in a sharp blue light, and no other sword he had wielded in his life had been faster than this.

Although it couldn’t be confirmed in reality, at least that’s how Jace felt.

His sword, aimed at Rohan’s side, bared its fangs.

It was a moment of life and death, apparent to anyone.

Rohan thought to himself.

“Indeed, I’ve fallen into the trap.”

Logically, there was no reason for Rohan, who had maintained flawless defense until now, to suddenly let his guard down.

Under normal circumstances, Jace would have found the situation quite suspicious as well.

But due to accumulated fatigue and excessive excitement, he made a wrong judgment.

Intentionally showing a vulnerability and turning it into a trap.

By exploiting the fact that his opponent was an experienced mercenary, Rohan occasionally exposed minute vulnerabilities that were hard to notice.

Rohan threw the bait, and Jace fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

And it is never easy for a fish properly caught in fishing to survive.

The gap that was slightly exposed on the left side was instantly covered by the shield, and the sword, which added the bounce back force, aimed at Jace, deflecting his attack.

“It’s a trap!”

Only then did he come to his senses, but it was already too late to turn back.

In the midst of hastily drawing his sword, Rohan’s sword was already approaching near Jace’s shoulder.

“Han…”

Jace tried to admit defeat, and Rohan noticed it as well.

However, Rohan, though honorable, was not a pushover, and he did not forget all the insults spat at him.

Wrapped around the well-maintained, sharp sword that hadn’t lost its edge, the chainmail seemed to be sliced like tofu.

“aaargh!”

Blood spurted like a fountain, and the cleanly severed arm rolled on the ground.

Abandoning the sword he held, Jace clutched the severed part of his arm and wailed in pain.

Although the remaining conscience of a modern man pleaded guilt, Rohan, who had already adapted to the savage era, did not show any sign of remorse.

He simply raised his hands in joy of victory.

“aaargh!”

“Rohan! Rohan! Rohan!”

“All thanks to you for making a big profit! hahahahaha!”

“Impressive!”

“That bastard, losing to someone younger than himself?”

“You’re the reason for this failure! I’ll tear you apart!”

Praise showered upon the victor, while insults and curses poured from all directions onto the loser.

Some even went as far as throwing knives in their madness.

Rohan descended from the stage with the declaration of victory, and Jace was carried away to the arena, hearing the cheers of the audience.

“How long will it take this time?”

Unless intentionally delaying the match, it would continue until one side died or declared surrender.

Depending on the personalities of the two naturally, the duration of the match could vary drastically, but judging from the enthusiastic cheers of the audience, it didn’t seem like it would take long.

As expected, before 20 minutes passed, the man who would be his opponent in the final entered through the waiting room door.

Though there were signs of fatigue, no deep wounds were visible.

Perhaps out of consideration for the just-finished opponent, an additional thirty minutes of rest was granted.

As the calls for the match to proceed faster began to be heard, the two could ascend to the stage.

While there was no rudeness or aggression like Jace, Rohan sensed that the opponent’s prowess was not inferior to Jace’s.

The chainmail and the one-handed sword were his entire armament, but a natural sense of ease emanated from him.

“I am Jin of Doria.”

Amidst the uproarious introduction by the announcer and the pouring cheers, Jin’s low, firm voice reached Rohan.

“…I am Rohan of Ezel.”

After a brief exchange of greetings, the match began with the announcer’s declaration.

As befitting a match that would mark the end of the fiercely contested tournament, tremendous cheers and noise erupted.

But these were two individuals who had fought fiercely to reach the final.

There was no room for distraction over such trivial stimuli.

The two, with swords drawn, were completely focused on each other.

The audience erupted with excitement as if a clash was imminent, yet the two remained motionless as if frozen.

The tension of the standoff that day was palpable.

The spectators, who had yearned for a fierce battle, soon began to jeer.

“Fight! Fight!”

“Why are you just standing there like fools!”

Beyond mere criticism, when it was about to escalate to unspeakable insults.

As the two who had stood still began to move as if they had made an agreement.

Being the final showdown, there was no need to think about the next match.

As if leaving no room for even a bit of strength, both of them had pushed their skills to the limit.

For those who failed to recognize the presence of Aura, the exchange of blows that was hard to follow with the eyes was over in an instant.

“What? What’s happening?”

“I didn’t see anything…”

Most of the audience roared without even knowing what had happened, but a considerable number of people clearly understood which side had gained the upper hand.

“Disadvantaged.”

The Earl of Izel was naturally one of those who had recognized it.

At first glance, the fight seemed equal, but in reality, it was a clear advantage for Rohan.

In the eyes of the Earl of Izel, there wasn’t much lacking in Rohan.

In terms of stamina, Aura capacity, and power, Rohan was slightly superior.

While the opponent undoubtedly possessed exceptional qualities due to their youth, compared to Rohan, their talent seemed dimmed.

Yet, there was only one reason for falling behind, swordsmanship.

A well-balanced, clearly superior swordsmanship belonging to a renowned family that didn’t lag behind the Earl’s swordsmanship.

With Rohan, who had by now become quite familiar with Izel’s swordsmanship, the overwhelming skill level was evident enough to push back even against him.

A gap so significant that overcoming it with other slight advantages was impossible.

“I hope he doesn’t get seriously injured.”

Seemingly not even considering hiding anymore, the Earl, who glanced at Sophia openly covering her face, muttered darkly.

“It’s like a solid wall.”

As time passed, Rohan felt the deepening gloom.

Combining Izel’s traditional swordsmanship, ancient warrior swordsmanship, and the innovative Charles-style combat techniques, despite launching attacks, there was no wavering in the Earl’s defense.

Powerful yet subtle attacks were evaded, while small but ineffective feints were easily parried.

The movements were textbook, but what made them truly effective was their efficiency.

Moreover, with the strategic use of Aura, it felt like an impenetrable wall.

Amidst the occasional sharp attacks, Rohan had already sustained numerous wounds.

“There seems to be only one way…”

While everyone anticipated Rohan’s defeat, he still had one ace up his sleeve.

The initial and unique active skill, the Warrior King’s Strike.

If even this failed to land a telling blow, there was no chance of winning this match.

But even his confidence in the formidable strike was shaken by the Earl’s sturdy defense.

He couldn’t simply unleash it thinking it would cut through the opponent.

Hence, Rohan began to reveal slight openings.

Setting a trap.

Despite receiving small wounds from the relentless attacks of Jin’s sword, he managed to avoid any fatal injuries.

Even though he had seized the initiative, his opponent’s sword remained strong and cautious.

Rohan steadied his anxious heart.

Regardless of the experiences his opponent had, Rohan knew firsthand just how skilled a swordsman he was.

Yet, his opponent was also human.

In a prolonged battle, there were moments when focus could waver.

As the fight dragged on endlessly, spectators growing bored directed their criticism towards Rohan.

But in Rohan’s ears, there was only silence.

His concentration was so intense, bordering on a trance-like state.

Nevertheless, the wounds continued to accumulate.

Even though he had not allowed fatigue to seep into his armor, his opponent’s sword remained sharp and precise.

“Taking more hits could be dangerous.”

As the warrior king who gained strength at the cost of stamina, excessive fatigue would only diminish the effectiveness of his skills.

Ultimately, Rohan resorted to a desperate measure.

He exposed a vulnerability and offered his left arm to Jin’s sword.

The sensation of cold metal piercing through his forearm was accompanied by a vivid, agonizing pain.

“Urgh!”

Despite being careful to avoid major blood vessels and tendons, the pain was excruciating, making his body stiffen.

Naturally, towards the glaring gap, Jin’s sword thrust sharply once more.

Even the experienced swordsman Jin could let his guard down at the brink of success.

Perhaps Jin was no exception as a previously unseen vulnerability was exposed to Rohan’s eyes.

An attack that reached out straight without any cunning, aiming to finish the match quickly.

It was an attack that didn’t consider the fierce counterattack that would undoubtedly come from Rohan.

This was all quite natural.

In the long fight, both Rohan’s stamina and aura had significantly diminished. Allowing attacks, his stance crumbled, and his left arm sustained an injury to the point of being temporarily immobilized.

Yet, even in such dire straits, the power of his skill manifested fully.

Midway through deflecting the sword, all his aura and stamina converged into his right hand holding the sword.

As he parried Jin’s sword, the skill was already fully activated, unleashing a force surpassing the usual limits.

Clang!

A sound akin to thunder, unlike before, resonated between them.

Surprisingly, Jin didn’t let go of his sword even under such tremendous shock.

However, he couldn’t catch the slipping game that easily slipped from his grasp.

Seeing Jin completely off balance, Rohan once again employed his skill.

“Blessing of Breath.”

Exhausted stamina surged back, and the warrior king’s spirit infused Rohan’s sword once more.

In that fleeting moment on the brink of victory, anguish flashed in Rohan’s eyes.

“Is it Jin or his sword?”

After this attack, Rohan would lose all his strength and have to kneel down.

If he managed to disarm Jin’s sword, would he accept defeat gracefully?

For the certain victory, it was right to take Jin’s life.

With eyes tightly shut, Rohan exerted all his strength into the sword and swung it in one breath.