Ultimate Gamer System: Factory Must Grow!-Chapter 101: Swordmasters’ Oath

The group of seven soldiers brought Osman along on their trip beyond the first and then the second layer of the guards, then through the camp's perimeter, over the first layer of the groundworks, and then, right before they would reach the outermost defensive wall of the camp, they took a turn towards the forest.

'Is it here?' Osman thought, patiently waiting for the ambush to spring up, eager to figure out just what kind of tricks those naive idiots had in store.

'Did they really believe someone like the young lady wouldn't have one by her side?' Osman thought, a small smile lingering on his lips as the soldiers pulled him deeper and deeper between the trees.

Soon, Osman lost track of even the most remote signs of the nearby troops, making it clear that the other party was trying to isolate him.

And just not to let them worry too much, Osman hid his smile before asking with the utmost of his seriousness,

"How far do you want me to go? Where is that thing you wanted to show me?!" he asked, adopting a haughty inclination to his voice and mimicking the way many of the idiotic nobles acted before they would learn of Osman's employer's identity.

And with how not even the biggest noble buffoon would dare to make enemies with the unfathomably rich house of Perell, watching their faces change upon the realization was one of Osman's preferred pastimes.

Right now, the situation was merely a variation of the same scenario, with an arrogant noble thinking himself superior in terms of status being replaced by a bunch of saboteurs thinking themselves capable of taking the young lady's sworn sword.

"It always baffles me, you know?" Osman spoke as he suddenly stopped right as the group stepped into an unexpected clearing in the forest.

A clearing just big enough to conduct a fight and located far enough to give the assassins time to finish the job and then flee before anyone attracted by the noise could find the place.

But clearly, that wasn't all.

Not when there was quite the ominous presence lurking in the bushes nearby.

"What does, sir?" the assassins, still trying their best to play their bit, happily engaged in the conversation.

A talking target meant a distracted target, after all!

"How none of the likes of you ever considers the option that I'm a swordmaster," Osman stated, leisurely pulling the sword out of the sheath before drawing a thin, perfectly even line with its tip.

Two out of seven assassins died on the spot, their severed arteries drowning them in their own blood before they could as much as utter a word.

The next two died right as they grabbed their weapons, one quickly bleeding out from where Osman's blade severed most of his shoulder while the other, just to spice things up, froze when Osman's blade emerged from the back of his head after piercing straight through the length of his brain.

"SHIT!"

Finally, the remaining three managed to react and jump to the back. And while normally, that wouldn't be enough to deter Osman from pushing on…

Swish!

With a twist of his wrist, Osman redirected his sword and blocked a sneaky slash, forcing the assailant to reveal themselves.

And for a moment, the two men just stared at each other, one perfectly calm and almost amused, the other baffled and now starting to digest the fact that something was extremely wrong.

For a swordmaster like him, to find an opponent capable of stopping his sword…

It was an experience he didn't get to go through for all the time that passed since he last obtained the swordmaster's plaque after winning a duel with his master!

"Are you breaking the oath already? Even before the war starts?" Osman asked calmly, driving his sword up the enemy's blade before stepping forth with his feet and adding enough weight to his counter to push the enemy aside.

As the two parted, the silence returned to the clearing, not even wild animals daring to make even the smallest noise in fear of getting spotted and targeted by either of those two monsters.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" The assailant pressed on, this time starting with a slash only to recombine it into a lunged-out thrust. "Your name is not on the list!"

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Both the feint and the actual attack fell on Osman's sword, way too slow for him to have any trouble dodging.

"And that's because…" Once again, Osman merely punched out with his sword-bearing hand, effectively shoving the enemy away before reaching to his pocket with his left hand and producing a small, silver-cast plaque, "I've killed the judge before he could spread the news."

The swordmaster's promotion process was both extremely simple while also reaching the levels of a near-ritualistic process.

All it took was a swordmaster candidate squaring off against an existing swordmaster. If they won, or even if the swordmaster gave his approval, the guild's judge present on the scene of the duel would offer a plaque for the new member of the swordmaster's guild before leaving for the central headquarters to add the graduator's name to the archives.

It was from those archives that anyone could pull the names of all the swordmasters wandering the land.

That is, all those who allowed their names to be reported.

And Osman clearly wasn't one of them.

"That's…" For a moment, the assailant hesitated before ultimately dropping the tip of their blade down and slightly relaxing their posture, conveying the dismissal of the hostile intent while remaining ready to take action at a moment's notice.

"I didn't know. My apologies," the man muttered through his gnashed teeth, all of which only served to fuel Osman's smile even more.

"Not a problem. And you are the first to leave after learning the truth, so I will hold on to you not sharing the news with anyone."

It was said that until the world would start to break for the coming of an end, no swordmaster would seriously face another for a purpose other than a gentleman's duel.

This rule was born from the times when the swordmasters could reach levels of ability allowing them to put entire kingdoms to the sword with ease.

And even if modern swordmasters could only dream about reaching the same heights of power, through all the years of the guild's existence, the oath persevered.

'Right now, things are not hot enough for them to break it,' Osman thought, smiling throughout the entire encounter. 'And they are not ready for the consequences. So all they can do right now is to withdraw.'

"In that case, I shall withdraw."

As if to confirm Osman's prediction, the enemy swordmaster put his sword away before giving Osman a slight bow.

Before he could receive one in return, however…

"Just one more thing before you go," Osman said, only to jump forth, cutting through half of the distance between the two men in a literal split of a second, leaving behind three corpses of the saboteurs that he failed to kill before.

"Regardless of what reason, you've intruded upon my realm," Osman stated, his sword already sheathed by his side while the other guy's hand slightly trembled from just how heavily he gripped the handle of his own blade. "And now I can consider the slight to be void."