The Academy's Barbarian-Chapter 61.2 - It Is Not Your Decision (2)

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Istan el Deorg.

Commonly known as Count Deorg; he inherited the family at a relatively late age

The public reason for this was that he was not of the direct lineage of the count's family, but rather of a collateral lineage. The real reason was a little different.

It was because of the long tradition of the family.

The master of Deorg must always be a master. Blood is a matter to be discussed later.

At that time, not only Master but even an Expert did not emerge from the direct bloodline. As a result, the opportunity came to Istan, who had been a knight of the empire, constantly serving on the front lines.

As the family's sole Expert, he received a lot of support as the heir apparent, and finally reached the realm of a Master.

'It was a dreamlike time.'

On the day he officially became the master of Deorg,

his life changed completely; the dismissive gazes he received for being from a collateral lineage disappeared entirely, and all the power and authority of the family fell into the hands of Istan.

At that time, he also brought his concubine and daughter, who had been kept separately outside the castle, into the castle. Although he couldn't officially give them the title of Deorg, he was satisfied with just that.

'I thought I would always be happy.......'

However, the reality was different; the sweet time was short-lived.

Istan, who had returned to the front line, found himself in a horribly boring time.

The aftermath of the pyre, or Ash Syndrome

It felt like his growth had stopped; it wasn't like being blocked by a wall of martial arts, but it felt like being blocked by a wall created by reality. No matter how many heretics he killed, his thirst was not quenched and there was only one way to quench it to fight with a Master or a strong man who was equal to his own skills. However, the wall of reality did not allow him to do this, and Istan gradually became lonely.

All emotions faded away; he abandoned everything and lived only on the battlefield.

He did not return to the Count's residence, and he didn't take care of his family; he became a monster moving only for battle, like a golem.

It was then he received a series of news.

The news that Himmel was injured. Moreover, he heard that he was seriously injured. However, Istan showed no particular reaction.

'As long as he doesn't die, it's fine.'

Defeat was a good stepping stone for growth; on the contrary, Istan felt a pang of envy. Defeat was a precious experience that he, in his current state, couldn't feel even if he wanted to.

'But.......'

Along with the news that Himmel was injured

a significant report came the opponent who defeated Himmel had not a single scratch, and he broke Himmels sword barehanded. Moreover, he moved so fast that even the audience and judges couldn't perceive it.

Istan became interested here.

It sounded like the realm of a Master.

So he left the front lines.

He immediately announced his intention to visit the Arsene Academy, now that he had a good excuse to see his injured son.

On the day he finally arrived at the academy

he first went to see Himmel. He had not seen Himmel for years, so he wanted to see how much he had grown.

'And.......'

He was immediately disappointed.

He thought Himmel at least would be on the threshold of becoming an Expert by now, but he'd only just knocked on the door of an Advanced Knight.

Much less talented than he thought; but his disappointment was short-lived.

When he arrived at the Fountain of Magic and met Ulan, Istan even felt a sense of excitement.

And then he was certain.

This barbarian was a Master!

Clash!

With the sound of the axe and sword colliding, Istan's thoughts were shattered. In the blink of an eye, he exchanged countless blows with Ulan. The only ones moving were Ulan and himself.

The scenery outside the dueling ground remained unchanged as if time had stopped.

The Domain of a Master.

This term refers to the range that the Master can perceive and interfere with, and at the same time, it means the interval in which they can fully unleash all their power.

That's why there is a saying

If you step into the Master's domain while facing them, even if only for a moment, the fight is as good as over.

'But.......'

this statement was only applicable to battles between Masters and those who are not; it didnt apply to battles between Masters.

Then, once again, the weapons clashed.

Clink! Quad-tchuk!

The cold emitted from the magic sword swallowed the entire surrounding area. It froze the earth, grass, and even Ulan in an instant.

But that was only temporary.

As Ulan writhed, all the ice covering him shattered. Just like a window breaking with a loud roar.

Istan furrowed his eyebrows.

This is not ordinary ice.

It was magic ice that not even the scorching sun of the desert could melt. How did he break it all at once, and without using magic?

"How did you break the ice?"

I just put my strength into it, Ulan said, as if it were no big deal. It was a simple answer that was disappointingly plain. When Istan's expression showed signs of losing strength,

Uduk! Kwaddduk!

The magic sword spewed out cold air uncontrollably; as if his pride had been wounded by the shattering of the ice.

However, he had no intention of being fooled twice.

Puureeang!

With the sound of breaking the air, Ulan's axe cut the ice in half. In the process, Gula greedily devoured all the mana that made up the ice.

And as a result,

Gula grew much bigger than before.

Now it was no longer appropriate to call it a hand axe. Istan's eyes flashed at this sight.

It's not an ordinary axe, is it?

Yes. It's a magic weapon.

Perhaps that's why he hadn't drawn it in the first place.

To fight under as similar conditions as possible. Realizing Ulan's intention belatedly, Istan laughed without saying a word. As if he liked it.

And then he charged again.

Kwadduk! Kaaan!

The battle grew increasingly violent; pits were dug all over the dueling grounds, and the flow of mana surged explosively..

The situation had become so dangerous that even the slightest mistake could result in serious injury. However, the smile full of delight did not fade from Istan's lips.

It's worth coming this far.

With each clash of weapons with Ulan

It was as if the emotions he'd lost had been rekindled; Istan felt alive for the first time in a while, crossing the line of death.

I don't want it to end.

The vibration transmitted through the sword.

Istan grinned in triumph, feeling an exhilaration that sent shivers down his spine.

Forever, and always!

His sword became increasingly ferocious this was the Sword of Deorg; it was the strongest sword in the South, tearing, crushing, and overwhelming enemies with the momentum of the path of destruction.

Quaaaaang! Crash! Crash!

A loud explosion echoed every time the weapons clashed. Not just sounds, but explosions that were actually caused by the collision of the Aura and Spirit.

Soon, an intense shockwave began.

Crash!

The dueling ground, as well as the surrounding forest, were swept up in the shockwave and turned into a mess; the insane power of the shockwave could have easily turned a pristine forest into ruins.

Fortunately, there were no injuries thanks to Deflyn's use of defensive magic.

On the other hand, unlike the surrounding ruins, Ulan calmly parried Deorg's sword. He seemed to be lost in thought, as if his sword was somehow familiar.

After a while, he figured out why.

'It's similar to Ibella's sword.'

If you exclude the momentum of the sword, it was strangely similar to the swordsmanship that Ibella currently uses.

As soon as he thought of this, Ulan's eyes narrowed

'Ah, yes. I see it now.'

as if he had realized something.

'It's the swordsmanship that is popular in the empire.'

It was a reasonable assumption. After all, they were both from the empire.

Ulan soon cleared his mind of idle thoughts. The reason for finishing the conjecture was one thing, but the real reason was that Istan's sword strikes had become less frequent.

"Fuu."

Istan adjusted his breathing. It was understandable. Swinging the sword with the momentum of the Sword Path consumed a lot of breath. While controlling his accelerated breath, he smiled slightly, "It's tough. It feels like facing a shield."

"Your sword is quite formidable as well."

Not as good as the future Ibella, of course, but it was by far the best opponent he had faced since his return.

At that moment, Istan suddenly moved his lips, "Where did you get that kind of skill?" It was a question that had been nagging at him all along.

He immediately continued, "I've never heard of a more fierce battlefield than the Southern Front."

"For now, I suppose."

"Huh? What do you mean...?"

"You need not be impatient."

The crimson light in Ulan's gaze subsided; memories of his past life. When he recalled the battlefield he fought against the abyss, Ulan's mouth twisted into a smile, "You'll find out soon enough anyway."

A meaningful answer.

However, Istan couldn't question further. Suddenly, Ulan charged at him.

"Now it's my turn."

This was the first time Ulan had taken the initiative.

Istan immediately shook off his thoughts. He was ready to receive the barbarian's axe that he would show.

However, this was his misconception. What Ulan was about to show was not the axe, but something else.

Nine steps and a half.

This was Istan's domain.

The range of his perception, and the interval in which he could exercise absolute power. On the other hand, Ulan's domain was much larger.

Up to twenty steps.

This was the result of his experience and skills from his past life. In addition to this, there was a technique that only Ulan and the seven Warriors knew.

The Transcendent Domain.

A new domain within the domain; a fleeting gap that can only be created by those who have gained special insights through countless battles with equally or more powerful opponents the attacks through this gap bypass the boundaries of each other's domains, transcending even space.

'Just.......'

In return, it consumes a great deal of spirit and puts a great deal of strain on the body. Moreover, even at this cost, at Ulan's current level, he could only achieve a half-step transcendence domain.

Still, it doesn't matter.

For a lonely swordsman who thinks that where he stands is the end of the world, it should be enough to let him know that there is a landscape beyond.

Clop!

And with that, Ulan took half a step forward; his blow, which even transcended time and space, rushed at Istan with fierce momentum.

Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang!

Along with the sound of the ground sinking in, a huge crater soon appeared; hazy dust obstructed the view. Ulan swung his axe, clearing away the dust in an instant.

The scenery that soon appeared

Ulan honestly admired.

"Well done."

His crimson eyes were directed towards the opposite side.

It was the figure of Istan, who was barely holding on at the edge of the crater, just before falling.

The moment the transcendent domain was unfolded

at the same moment Ulan's blow came down.

Istan was frozen like a statue, and then belatedly responded to the attack. And he barely blocked the attack by twisting his sword.

Although he didn't block it perfectly.

Kwajik! Hudududuk!

And as a result, the magic sword cracked; and then it shattered like a glass.

That wasn't all.

Istan, who had managed to hold on, coughed up a mouthful of dark red blood. His body had absorbed the remaining shock from the shattering of the magic sword.

"Huff, huff!"

An irregular heartbeat; a ragged breathing.

Even his vision turned blurry, but Istan did not fall. No, he couldn't fall.

Because there was still something to ask.

So, even though he was spitting out bubbles of blood, he continued to speak with difficulty, "...What was that, just now? What in the world?"

"A Domain within a Domain," Ulan answered with an indifferent tone

After his nonchalant reply, Isatn's expression strangely changed.

Surprise. Shock. Awe. And more.

Various emotions bloomed in succession, and he finally smiled with relief, muttering, "...I see. There was, indeed, something beyond..."

The words faded into a blur and Istan fell to his knees.

All of his mana had been drained by the effort of blocking Ulan's blows. He fell to the ground like a straw doll caught in a gust of wind.

And at that moment

a hush fell over the surrounding area.

A result that no one had expected. None of the three participants had anticipated the sight that unfolded.

But the silence did not last long.

"Next," Ulan's voice broke the silence.

He looked at the place where the three participants gathered, and among them, he stared intently at Seoric, who was wearing a dazed expression.

"Aren't you going to fight?"

"......Huh?"

Seoric, belatedly coming to his senses, asked with a strange expression, "Am I going to fight you too?"

"For some reason, you look like you want to."

The eyes of the one who yearns for battle

To Ulan's words, Seoric smiled.

"Thank you."

A very belligerent smile. As if the face that had been putting on airs until now was a mask.

"In fact, I couldn't stand it since before."

After a moment's hesitation, he charged into the dueling ground.

An unexpected twist.

Even though Berge, who realized the situation belatedly, tried to dissuade him, it was useless. After all, it was a miracle to have held out this long.

After the unplanned duel began

Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang! Kwaaang!

two more craters appeared.

It was the sound that announced the end of the duel.

And that afternoon, shocking news spread, overturning the Imperial Military High Command.

The Blind Sword, Istan el Deorg

The Loyal Sword, Seoric al-Ghorfant

the two titans, the best swordsmen in the south and west respectively, were defeated by a barbarian recently designated as a Level-0 Management Target.

This shocking news was reported not only to the military, but also to the upper echelons.

The place where the most noble blood gathers.

The Imperial Palace itself.

End of Chapter. . . . . . . .Thanks for Reading. . . . . . . . . )

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