I Pull Out Excalibur

6 – Prelude to Civil War (2)

Outside the blacksmith.

The members of the organization, who were waiting for the boss to finish collecting the payment, stood up as they noticed someone walking out from inside the blacksmith.

Hojel, the leader, probably wouldn’t give in so easily and most likely brought a bunch of swords instead of the payment. Two members, hearing the sound of a box shaking, quickly jumped out.

“I can handle it, boss.”

The member’s words trailed off. It wasn’t the boss who walked out from the blacksmith. Well, the boss did come, but the person who walked out was not the boss.

“Ugh…”

The boss groaned, lying face down on the ground.

And there was a boy gripping the boss’s hair tightly, dragging him along. Just as the members were about to open their eyes and shout, something happened.

Thud!

The boy threw the box he was holding in front of the members. It was no ordinary box, but the one they brought to collect the swords from the blacksmith. Instead of swords, however, the box contained a cleanly cut-off arm of the boss.

“Ah, ugh!”

“Boss!”

The two members backed away in horror.

The boy, Jin, threw the severed arm to the side. While the two members took care of their fallen boss, Jin looked silently into the distance.

There were three people waiting outside.

Two of them were insignificant nobodies, but one was different. Jin shifted his gaze towards the man who had been staring in their direction without showing his face, thanks to the deep hood pulled over his head.

“Seems like it.”

Najin let out a short breath.

“You seem like the one in charge, let’s have a talk. Don’t we have some things to discuss?”

At those words, the man let out a bitter laugh.

“Huh, look at this guy.”

The man removed the hood that was deeply pulled over his head.

On his revealed face, there were long scars. Scars that extended from his right ear all the way to his neck. Najin frowned upon seeing those scars.

Among the members of the Danggeomi organization, Najin was familiar with the faces of the higher-ups. And that face was in Najin’s memory.

“Hey there.”

Najin let out a sigh.

“They really went all out sending a higher-up like you.”

“You know me?”

“A leg of the Spider, one of the six legs. Flicks, right?”

“It’s not the sixth, it’s the eighth leg. It’s Friks, not Flicks.”

“If you’re the eighth out of eight legs, that means you’re the weakest.”

“That’s not true.”

Friks became upset.

“The order of the legs doesn’t represent strength. I’m stronger than the sixth guy.”

“You’re getting worked up. Whether it’s the sixth or the eighth…”

Najin lightly kicked the box in front of him with his foot. The arm inside the box shook back and forth.

“Why did someone who’s considered a higher-up trespass into Ivan’s territory? This is clearly a violation of the contract. With just one arm, you can’t surpass us, this.”

“hahahaha. So are you telling me to give up my arm too?”

“You’ve gone too far with the arm.”

Najin raised his middle finger.

“Let’s just settle for one finger.”

“You’re truly insane.”

Frix laughed loudly at the sight of the boy who didn’t flinch at all in front of him. He laughed as he stood up from his seat.

And then, swish.

Frix drew his sword.

It was a sword that gleamed with a shiny luster, as if it were well-maintained. Najin suddenly looked at the sword in his hand. A rusty sword with a dull and faded blade.

Sighing, Jin sat, absentmindedly repairing the sword.

2.

Prix, one of the eight subordinates of the Dungeon Spider Horsay.

The eighth leg, Prix.

In the upper district, he was a seedling in charge of knights.

Of course, he wasn’t a proper seedling of a knight. The knights he served were old and sick, and instead of giving proper teachings, they treated Prix like a slave.

But that’s beside the point.

Prix learned swordsmanship from the knights and somewhat mastered the art of manipulating mana. At the time, he didn’t realize how valuable those teachings were until he arrived in this city.

‘In this city, I am a strong one.’

In the upper district, he was nothing more than a seedling of an ordinary knight, but in this city, Prix was undeniably a strong one. He felt a sense of superiority in that fact. Having received “proper education” in this garbage-like city made him a special existence.

A strong one who knows how to strengthen their body with mana.

Although he hadn’t reached the level of an expert in pulling out a sword, just being able to handle mana made Prix one of the few strong ones in this city.

In Prix’s eyes, those who brandished daggers and boasted about dealing with people seemed ridiculous. There was nothing funnier than people who couldn’t handle mana strutting around with their shoulders puffed up.

‘That guy looks similar.’

Prix looked at the youngster standing in front of him.

He had heard rumors about this youngster. One of Ibani’s hunting dogs. He must have some talent if Ibani was interested in him, but…

‘I don’t sense any mana.’

Prix couldn’t sense any traces of the youngster naturally manipulating mana. It seemed like he hadn’t received complete training in mana manipulation from that arrogant Ibani.

Then, ultimately, this youngster was no different from those mediocre people who followed Ibani. A smile crept onto Prix’s lips as he reached a conclusion.

“Hey, youngster.”

As Prix flicked the tip of his sword, he sneered.

“For the first move, I’ll let you have it. You should at least have enough merit since this is Ibani’s territory.”

Imitating the ceremony of a knight, Prix yielded the first move. Without a word, Jin tightened his grip on the sword. It meant he wouldn’t refuse.

Thud.

Jin took a step forward.

With that step, he put on weight. With bent knees and the sword held low, his posture was closer to a leap than one for swinging the sword. It looked pathetic to Prix’s eyes, who had learned proper swordsmanship from a knight. It was obvious that Jin wouldn’t swing the sword, but rather, be swung by it.

Is he really such an insignificant opponent?

That’s when Prix felt a sense of disappointment.

Quaang!

Najin struck the ground. The sound of the ground being struck and the clash of swords resonated almost simultaneously. Prik’s eyes shot wide open.

The distance between him and the boy was barely ten steps. The boy’s movements, narrowing the small gap in one leap and swinging his sword, were far beyond Prik’s expectations.

Ka, gagaak!

Najin’s rusty sword trembled as it clashed against Prik’s sword. Prik felt the weight in his grip, causing him to panic. Quickly summoning mana, Prik pushed Najin’s sword away.

Chwak, Najin retreated three steps, sliding.

It was just a brief exchange, but Prik couldn’t hide his confusion. It wasn’t just the weight that came from swinging a sword.

“Am I unable to control mana?”

Prik glared at the boy in front of him. The boy, breathing lightly at a distance of three steps, showed no signs of exertion.

Najin silently stared at Prik.

Then, he looked at his own hand, gripping the sword.

Opening and closing his hand, Najin narrowed his eyes. Prik couldn’t understand the meaning behind these actions, but he could tell that the boy was reassessing him.

“Such an arrogant brat…”

Prik frowned.

Unlike before, Prik fully raised his mana and adjusted his stance. The top posture of the Imperial swordsmanship he learned from the knights. A flame emerged from Prik’s body.

Uncontrolled mana that hadn’t been condensed seeped out from his body, creating a phenomenon. It was a trace left by an inexperienced mana user.

Najin narrowed his eyes, staring at Prik.

* * *

Najin doesn’t know how to control mana.

Ivan and Ophen didn’t teach him. So Najin thought that he couldn’t control mana.

“Is that mana?”

Najin looked ahead.

Prik emitting a menacing aura. Najin glanced at the flame rising above his body. Ivan and Ophen, with whom Najin had occasionally sparred, never had such flames.

“But they didn’t have flames like that, right?”

Ophen and Ivan were skilled experts. Prik, on the other hand, was a novice compared to them. The difference between being able to completely master mana and being unable to control it…

Najin didn’t know that difference. That’s why he decided to think of it as a kind of mana manipulation technique.

Then, with a thud, Prik struck the ground.

The basic stance of the Imperial Longsword technique. Prik took a deep breath and took a big step forward. Swinging the sword, he executed a diagonal slash like in the Imperial swordsmanship textbook.

Ssaeuk!

However, the moment the simplest slash, infused with mana-enhanced physique, intersected, it became a lethal strike. With the sound of wind parting, the blade descended toward Najin.

“······.”

Facing the approaching blade, Najin pondered.

Indeed, manipulating mana is quite fascinating.

Najin noticed the noticeably accelerated movements of Prix, who seemed faster than just a moment ago. Is it possible because he knows how to handle mana?

‘However···.’

It doesn’t seem that fast.

It was still a visible speed, still a speed that could be dealt with. Najin made a decision and moved.

Thud.

Instead of dodging, Najin stepped forward.

It seemed like a judgment close to a suicidal act at first glance. However, Najin, by delving into the interval of Prix’s swinging sword, swung his own sword.

Before Prix’s sword could complete a perfect trajectory.

Just before the force of that sword strike was fully exerted.

Kaaah! Najin’s sword struck Prix’s blade. With minimal force, Najin shattered the opponent’s technique and seized the opportunity to thrust the sword at Prix’s opening.

“······!”

Surprise flickered across Prix’s face.

However, only for a moment; the tiger aura emanating from Prix’s body intensified. Pulling back the deflected sword forcibly, Prix’s body accelerated even more.

The trajectory of the sword deviates. It’s an impossible movement for an ordinary human body. It’s a bizarre movement made possible by the assistance of mana. The unpredictable sword strike, in the posture Najin has taken, makes evasion and counterattack impossible.

An unexpected sword strike.

As the sword strike, aiming to tear through Najin’s defense, was about to unfold, Prix saw it. Najin’s eyes, still following his accelerated movement. The chilling gaze fixed on the tip of the sword he wielded.

Thump!

And then, Najin stamped his foot.

In an instant, Najin’s body accelerated. Twisting the sword he had thrust, he lifted it obliquely. All these movements were unbelievably fast, even faster than Prix manipulating mana.

‘How on earth?’

Certainly, there was no sense of mana until just now.

However, at this moment, Prix felt mana from the boy’s body. Mana flashed and scattered for an instant when the boy blinked his eyes. For a brief moment, the boy undoubtedly used mana to accelerate his body.

So smooth and natural.

As if breathing in and out.

‘This, this kid is···!’

Frix was enraged by the fact that he had been deceived.

However, Najin had no intention of tricking Frix. Najin believed that he couldn’t handle mana, and he didn’t even realize that his movements were aided by mana.

Always efficient.

Maximum efficiency with minimum effort.

Najin was simply moving based on the basic principles of combat that he had ingrained in his mind, relying on instinct for incidental things.

Ka, gabbing!

Frix’s sword slipped along Najin’s tilted sword. The rusty sword scraped roughly against the surface and fell. Thus, a gap was created.

“…Ugh!”

Realizing Najin’s sword, Frix quickly pulled out his own sword, but Najin’s sword did not move. It was his leg that moved. Najin brought down his raised foot and struck Frix’s knee.

Thud.

Thanks to the reinforced mana, his knee didn’t bend inward, but Frix’s expression contorted. Consequently, his posture was also disrupted. From an imperfect stance, the swing of the sword wouldn’t carry enough weight.

Najin lightly parried the light sword.

Parrying, Najin took one step further.

Too close for a slashing attack with the sword’s edge. However, Najin never intended to kill Frix in the first place.

“Then, you’re dead.”

He had no intention of killing him.

He needed to keep him alive to extract information. With the hilt of the sword clenched in his hand, Najin swung it like a hammer.

Thwack!

The weight attached to the end of the hilt, forming a pomelo melon, struck Frix’s Adam’s apple. The impact made a solid sound, just like Ivan’s heavier sword.

“Snap…”

Frix’s head was struck unexpectedly, causing it to tilt. However, he still had focus in his eyes. Seeing that, Najin clicked his tongue.

“It’s good to have mana.”

Does strengthening the body with mana really allow one to handle a blow to the Adam’s apple and avoid losing consciousness? From Najin’s perspective, who still believed he couldn’t handle mana, it was a surprising feat.

“But still.”

Najin reached out and grabbed Frix’s hair.

“If you wiggle, you’ll faint.”

With one hand gripping Frix’s hair, Najin swung the hilt of the sword with the other hand. Pomelo melon struck Frix’s face multiple times.

Thud, thwack, and thud…

After swinging his hand about six times, Najin finally let go of Frix’s hair. Frix, with a broken nasal bone, had a nosebleed flowing down his face. His broken teeth fell to the ground with a clatter.

Thud.

Frix, whose eyes were flipped upside down, collapsed onto the floor. Naejin, exhaling shortly, turned his head. Holding a scalpel, Naejin ran forward and glanced at the members of Horsay’s organization, who had missed their timing. Naejin spoke briefly.

“Put that down.”

Naejin snapped his fingers.

“Cut off one finger at a time and leave. It’s the rule.”

It was a rule established by Horsay and Ivan.

The rule had not been followed often, but even at this moment, they realized they couldn’t ignore it.

3.

“It’s damn heavy.”

With one hand holding a box containing Frix’s arms and fingers, and the other hand grabbing Frix’s throat, Naejin moved forward, dragging him.

“As much as I want to throw it anywhere.”

He couldn’t handle even the senior level carelessly, let alone the lower ranks.

“It’s been noisy recently.”

That damn spider keeps crossing the line.

He had heard Ivan mumbling something like that. He had heard it somewhere. Naejin was an executive of the organization, and recently, he had personally seen that several of the people he had handled had connections with the spider.

And now, there was clear encroachment on their territory.

He didn’t know what it was, but it was clear that something was being planned.

And if it was a senior executive of the organization, they would know something, so he planned on extracting information this time.

…That’s a different matter.

Naejin pondered about the previous battle for a moment.

He contemplated the techniques and movements he had used during the battle, and Naejin let out a faint smile. He had confirmed that his sword could penetrate even those who manipulate mana.

“It’s worth the hard work of learning.”

Things he had learned from Ivan and Open.

If Open taught him how to swing a sword, Ivan showed him the essence of battle. If you see a gap, stab it. If you see a big movement, dive in. Don’t just swing your weapon, use everything you can.

Efficient movement of the body.

How to block the opponent’s attack with minimal force.

Close-range hand-to-hand combat where the sword doesn’t reach.

Utilizing the terrain and how to stun opponents.

In addition, Naejin learned numerous grappling techniques from Ivan. Naejin, recalling the techniques he had learned from Ivan since the age of ten, furrowed his brows. The scars engraved on his rough skin were a reminder.

“Come to think of it, knights didn’t teach me much.”

Knights in fairy tales were noble and noble.

However, Ivan, who was once a knight in the upper town, was skilled in all kinds of dirty work, including torture and execution. Sometimes even more so than Offen, who had been active as a mercenary.

“Watch closely.”

“You’ll have to do these things someday too.”

Ivan conducted the torture.

“Don’t you break under torture?”

“That’s a funny idea. You don’t know how creative the human mind is, how many different kinds of pain it can feel, so you can say that.”

“How about we bet on how much he can endure?”

Forcing open a tightly closed mouth and the process of breaking someone’s spirit. Flickering torches. Blood scattered everywhere. Prolonged screams.

“See that?”

“Are you going to try it too?”

Najin, who was reminiscing about the past, suddenly turned around. From there, the muffled groans of Fricks could be heard. Judging by the groans and the convulsions of his body, it seemed that he had regained consciousness.

Fricks, who was slowly blinking his eyes, met eyes with Najin. Only then did Fricks seem to grasp the situation. However, there was no sound of snapping during the process of slamming down on Formello. This was because several teeth had fallen out during the beating.

“One piece of advice.”

Looking at Fricks with determination, Najin gave indifferent advice.

“Don’t resist, just open your mouth. It’s better to finish the torture when you’re still in one piece.”

Najin pointed with his finger.

In response, Fricks’ pupils also moved. When Fricks confirmed the pointed direction, his pupils shook violently. There was a building that everyone in the underground city knew.

The residence of Ivan, the ruler of the underground city.

Pointing at the building, Najin said, “Ivan is more terrifying than you think.”