Chapter 181: Swordsmanship Festival (8)

“It was truly a series of major upsets.”

“Yeah? What kind of incredible upsets were there to make you say that? Anyway, isn't this tournament just dividing seeds based on the last swordsmanship festival results and the Seton Swordsmanship Hall's internal evaluations? So, it's natural there wouldn't be any big variables... That's why I arrived late, you know.”

“Heh heh, this guy. Missing the first round... You've missed half the fun you could have had at this swordsmanship festival!”

“Was it that much? I heard that Hilus and Ransel Grantz, who were supposed to participate in the youth division, moved to the main stage. Is that what you're talking about?”

“Tsk tsk... This guy, you haven't heard any news at all!”

“I told you. I wasn't interested in the first round...”

Wearing a slightly sulky expression, the man who had arrived late to the swordsmanship festival chugged his beer.

In truth, he still didn't quite understand why there was such a fuss.

The upsets that could happen in the first round were, as he had said, probably just Hilus and Ransel Grantz defeating veteran swordsmen and advancing to the second round, right?

...Or so he had thought for a moment.

After hearing the whole story from the man across from him, the latecomer couldn't help but wear an expression of utter shock.

A participant in her early twenties who had severed Holy Hilus' arm, Cecilia.

And similarly, a participant in his early twenties who had defeated the favorite Egon Boel with just two sword strikes, Harang.

How could one not be astonished after hearing about these two?

“No way, does that even make sense? You're saying these youths, who at best became Graduates less than a year ago, pulled off such nonsense?”

“I'm telling you, it's true. Have you ever seen me make up stories? It's all real. The match between Hilus and Cecilia was a bit... unsavory, so there's no recording, but the match between Egon Boel and Harang has videos spreading all over the market already.”

“Really? Can I buy it from the magicians?”

“You can buy it, but it'll be ridiculously expensive. Not just the cost of the magic tool, but since the match content was so shocking, there's high demand. Seems like a lot of people, like you, came late thinking the first and second rounds wouldn't be exciting, then regretted it and are trying to get the recordings.”

“Damn, it sounds real... But is this actually possible?”

“Yeah. Even I, who saw it in person, am still dazed.”

“Where are they from, anyway? The two of them?”

“Well... Cecilia participated as an unaffiliated and broke through the qualifiers, and Harang is from the Nadan Kingdom, apparently.”

“Judging by the lack of a family name, he doesn't seem to be from a kingdom-affiliated knight order. Is he from some swordsmanship hall? But was there a decent swordsmanship hall in the Nadan Kingdom?”

“No, not from a swordsmanship hall, but from a mercenary brokerage, they say.”

“What? A mercenary? With that skill, a mercenary?”

“I heard rumors that he's a disciple the Mercenary King invested in to promote the mercenary brokerage. Some even say he might have entered the Graduate realm since his teens, not twenties.”

“Huh, does that make... No, thinking about it, that actually sounds more plausible. You'd need to be that level of genius to overwhelm Egon Boel like that.”

“Of course, there are talks that the opponent was heavily off-guard... But even if off-guard, suppressing a favorite for the main stage victory in an instant isn't possible without exceptional skill.”

“Exactly.”

The two men continued their conversation about Cecilia and Harang afterward.

How far could these two participants climb?

How would they fare against the promising talents from the western and central parts of the continent?

Especially on the second topic, a heated debate ensued, because people from the southern continent held no small inferiority complex toward the west and center.

Culturally, economically, militarily—the most underdeveloped region.

That was how the world viewed the southern continent.

It couldn't be helped, as the southern continent had only escaped from long-lasting wars 100 to 150 years ago.

‘Of course, even before the wars, it didn't show much better than other regions... But if I said that here, I'd get beaten by others.’

Such thoughts briefly crossed their minds, but the two men didn't voice them aloud.

In any case, what mattered now wasn't such past history.

Why did the southern continent focus on the Seton Swordsmanship Festival?

Because this event, hosted by the Seton Swordsmanship Hall, was the festival that best showcased the strength of the southern continent.

And now, that fruition was about to bear fruit.

In the form of fruits named Cecilia and Harang.

“Of course, with Cecilia having done that to Hilus, the swordsmanship hall might not look kindly on her...”

“No. Maybe they'll set aside any grudges and try to recruit her into the swordsmanship hall.”

“Ah, that makes sense? She's unaffiliated, after all. Harang might be hard to touch since there are rumors he's the Mercenary King's disciple, but Cecilia is definitely a tantalizing talent worth drooling over.”

“Probably not just the Seton Swordsmanship Hall, but various countries, swordsmanship halls, and guilds will try to recruit her.”

“Maybe even guys from other regions will try to snatch her...”

“What! No way! Not that!”

“I think that's absolutely not okay too. But realistically, if prestigious swordsmanship halls or powerful nations from other regions step in, we'd be outmatched in power...”

“Hey, but this isn't just anywhere; it's the front yard of the Seton Swordsmanship Hall. Would they let talent be stolen right in front of them?”

“Probably not? I hope so...”

The two men went on at length about Cecilia and Harang.

And it wasn't just them.

Throughout the Seton Autonomous Region, most people watching the swordsmanship festival were chattering about the two in various places.

Just how far would they climb?

Could they possibly reach the finals?

If that became reality, whose skill would be superior between the two?

Of course.

‘Nah, no way they'd both reach the finals, right?’

‘Yeah. Even if he beat Egon Boel, the other two favorites remain. They'll come out fully prepared without letting their guard down, so beating them would be tough no matter what.’

‘Quarterfinals. Probably that's the limit...’

‘Still, if they faced off in the finals, that'd be fun in its own way.’

No one was seriously considering the two youths advancing to the finals yet.

At best, quarterfinals, or semifinals if extremely lucky.

Of course, even that would be an unbelievably remarkable achievement for someone in their early twenties, but since the results the two had shown in the first round were so tremendous, people's expectations had skyrocketed to the heavens.

Yet, astonishingly.

Both Cecilia and Harang continued to show performances that met those heightened expectations 200%.

Swoooosh-!

“...I lost.”

“M-Match over! The winner is Harang! Player Harang!”

“Waaaaaaaah!”

This time, Harang ended the match with a single sword strike.

Kaaaang!

“Guh, grrr...!”

“Match over! The winner is Player Cecilia!”

“Wooooah!”

“What! She ended it in one strike too!”

“Crazy! Does this even make sense!”

Cecilia also overwhelmed her opponent with astonishing swordsmanship skill.

As a result, people's expectations grew even larger, and the two began climbing higher and higher with terrifying skill, as if feeling no burden from such attention.

Thus, after three weeks had passed.

“Winner! Harang!”

“Winner! Cecilia!”

Harang and Cecilia, who had each defeated strong favorites of the Seton Swordsmanship Festival and spewed forth miracles to reach the finals!

Faced with the miraculous achievements of these two youths, people began pouring out cheers like madmen in a frenzy.

“Harang! Harang! Harang! Harang!”

“Cecilia! Cecilia! Cecilia!”

How long had the years of disdain and disregard from other regions been?

Everyone thought it inwardly but couldn't say it aloud; they all knew.

Even the top Seton Swordsmanship Hall in the south barely held a vague reputation, just scraping into the bottom of the top five fingers in the west and center of the continent.

The talent pool in the south was that dire, engraving deep inferiority in the southerners' hearts.

But not anymore.

Harang and Cecilia.

Cecilia and Harang.

With the simultaneous emergence of century-level geniuses worthy of being recorded in history, the future of the south was undoubtedly bright.

...Thus, tomorrow.

Exactly one month since the swordsmanship festival, including the youth division, had begun.

The final match to determine the ultimate winner would finally raise its curtain.

In such a situation where everyone's attention was focused on them.

“....”

Cecilia merely let out a wry smile as she thought of the event tomorrow.

***

Waaaaaaaah-!

Wooooaaaah!

Truly tremendous cheers that seemed to shake heaven and earth!

The noise was so enormous that even the referee's voice, amplified by magic, was hard to hear, but no one frowned at it.

It couldn't be helped.

With the century's great geniuses Harang and Cecilia clashing in the finals of the Seton Swordsmanship Festival, who wouldn't shout?

People screamed the names of the participants they supported until their throats were raw, chugged beer, placed bets, and acted as if they were in the midst of a festival.

The only ones with serious expressions were the two participants themselves.

Harang, who had ascended the stage, quietly muttered.

“Regret.”

Yes.

That was the emotion he had felt upon reuniting with Cecilia.

The inability to answer her question of what he could do with his lack of power.

The sarcasm that he was nothing but a fly's life in front of the village's general manager, to which he had no retort.

The resulting emotion was best described not as anger, irritation, or self-loathing, but as ‘regret.’

“Still... Thanks to that, I found good material.”

Hummmm-!

Harang drew his Aura Sword.

The blade still shone in ashen gray.

But he was certain.

By refining with this material, one day he could reach the Color Sword.

Like Ransel Grantz, he could advance to a higher realm without sickening his heart.

Having thought this far, Harang tried to express his gratitude to Cecilia and share his thoughts on that question from back then.

But before he could open his mouth, an incident occurred.

Ziiiiiing-!

A bizarre and alien noise echoed through the sky, piercing even the people's cheers.

Everyone looked up.

And they were horrified.

“Wh-What?”

“What is that!”

“What is this! What's happening right now...!”

A massive circular portal over 100 meters in diameter opened in the sky.

From it, something white like snow poured down.

It wasn't snow.

They were bone fragments deboned from monster corpses.

Shortly after, those that had fallen across the arena quickly took the form of undead and howled.

Crunch, crunch!

Kwaaaak!

Kwaaaaaah-!

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