Swordmaster of the Great Wall

Erich glanced around. While he exchanged blows with his opponent for a brief moment, barbarian warriors, arriving one after another, had surrounded him. Yet, most of them seemed tense.

― Snap.

It was because of the blood flowing from the head hunter before him.

'... This is your first time seeing it, isn't it? A head hunter getting beaten like this.'

From their perspective, Yurtan was probably a monster who wielded natural-disaster-level power.

To see such a monster being overwhelmed without so much as a scratch—now, that must have been a shocking sight.

As if to prove Erich's thoughts, no one dared step forward easily.

The barbarian before him, seeing Erich surrounded by hundreds of barbarians, roughly rubbed his wound with his hand and opened his mouth.

[It's been a long time since I encountered such a remarkable warrior. I am Yurtan, son of Katan.]

[I am Erich.]

[... Erich?]

Yurtan's brow twitched. Erich thought it was a reaction much like when he introduced himself to Hrung-ga. Did he make some kind of mistake in their greeting ritual?

[Why such a lukewarm response?]

[No, I'm simply amazed. That a man with no father could become so strong.]

[What is that supposed to—]

Erich stopped mid-sentence and mulled over what they had said. They introduced themselves as 'I am So-and-so, son of Whomever.' But Erich had only spoken his own name.

Could it be that not knowing whose son you are is considered a shocking thing in their culture?

In fact, the reason Erich hadn't realized this until now was because, before his regression, he had learned the Barbarian language far too late.

And, as a commander, he'd never really had to step forward himself, so he had almost no chance to learn such customs.

'So, I've basically been proclaiming I'm an orphan everywhere I go without knowing. No wonder these guys always looked at me funny.'

Erich forced a wry smile. If he ever met the Barbarian warrior Hrung-ga again, he thought he'd better reintroduce himself properly.

Anyway, that was that.

'... It's almost a thousand now. There are so many of them I can't even see beyond them anymore.'

Erich needed to draw these men in and hold them here. And he needed to draw in as many as possible. Only then would the 'plan' proceed as intended. Erich closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.

― Vwing.

His two eyes shone a vivid crimson. The sight made the barbarians recoil even further away in fright.

[Head hunter!]

[Ravens, and it's a head hunter...!]

The only one who wasn't surprised was Yurtan.

[Don't be afraid! There's only one of him!]

Yurtan roused the barbarians' fighting spirit. At his words, the barbarians gradually approached Erich once more.

Especially from behind him, they advanced even more boldly, perhaps thinking Erich wouldn't detect them.

But Erich saw this approach differently.

He covered his entire 360-degree surroundings, distorted like an oil painting, with his perception—not with his eyes, but with the power held in the eyes of a swordmaster.

Concentrating, Erich saw thin threads drawn toward him. Some were thick and strong, but others seemed so thin that they might snap at any moment.

Erich knew this from experience.

Each contained intent focused toward him. Then, in the next instant, a thread behind him was pulled taut.

― Swish!

Without turning around, Erich spun, and the head of the barbarian who'd been charging him from behind dropped to the ground.

[W-what was that?]

[How did he—how did he see behind him?]

The barbarians, frightened once more, fell back, and the threads of intent stretched toward Erich snapped all at once.

'It's been a while since I've used this.'

'Synesthesia(共感覺).'

It was a special sense that only swordmasters who had reached a certain state could manifest.

The moment the thread filled with intent was pulled taut was the instant the opponent's killing intent peaked.

Not all swordmasters utilized synesthesia in this way, but Erich used it like this. This was because his master, Mikhail, had taught him so.

If this was the Erich from before receiving power from Incensus, he could never have dared use such a skill against so many foes.

'If I had, I'd have been left crying blood.'

Being able to sense all attacks from all directions was the greatest difference between a swordmaster and an ordinary person.

With this, a swordmaster could break the limitations of sight and fight evenly against a hundred swordsmen.

In fact, this synesthesia could be used for far more than merely sensing enemy attacks.

― Vwing!

Leaving afterimages, Erich charged into the mass of barbarians. Rather than attacking Yurtan immediately, Erich's true aim was—

― Swish!

[Gahhhh!]

[Guh!]

—the barbarians surrounding him. Some didn't even register his movement before their heads dropped to the ground.

[A-att—attack together!]

[Kill him!]

Barbarians assaulted Erich from all directions. But at that moment, Erich's eyes flashed once more.

― Tap.

The tense thread snapped explosively. At the same time, the sword of the barbarian trying to strike at Erich halted in midair. Erich did not miss that opening.

― Swish!

He drew his sword from the neck of the frozen barbarian and held it close to his body. A smile crept to Erich's lips.

'... This is manageable.' Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on novel✦fire.net

This was a power that only swordmasters who had honed their synesthesia to the extreme could wield: the ability to simultaneously sever the opponent's killing intent and retaliate with a gale of his own.

It's said one freezes up at the sight of a beast. Erich's technique was something like that.

Of course, wolves aren't frightened by tiger cubs; this only worked if the gap in skill was such that the enemy could be overpowered by Erich's killing intent.

Of course, even non-swordmasters might sense killing intent, but to sever it delicately with aura—as Erich did—was something only possible through long years of experience in war.

The sense, woven by countless strands of killing intent, enshrouded Erich like a spider's web.

Sensing these threads keenly, Erich unraveled them one by one.

Predicting trajectories from those threads, he foiled the attacks of multiple enemies at once and—

― Kradack!

[Urgh...!]

—landed a blow on an opponent. As the attacks came at him from behind, Erich's eyes glittered and, suffused with aura, the threads in his synesthesia were cleanly severed.

― Snap!

The attacking barbarians behind him froze as their attacks failed.

― Swish!

Erich's blade drew streaks as it sliced down the barbarians behind him as well.

Moving freely amid countless barbarians, he carved out his own space.

Soon, the web of killing intent closing in like a spiderweb lost its shape entirely.

The result of Erich's near-artful martial display within the barbarian mass was a mound of barbarian corpses.

[Is he... is he a monster?]

[How can anyone move like that...!]

They could not see the landscape as Erich saw it. They could sense killing intent on an instinctual level, but to meld it with synesthesia and observe the battlefield from above as Erich did—that was impossible for them.

That was precisely what Grand Duke Krupp had always talked about—the difference in perspectives between swordmasters and ordinary people.

This was a power only attainable by a swordmaster who had perfected his craft.

― Slash!

With his sword removed from a barbarian's collarbone, Erich surveyed the area. By then, the threads of killing intent toward him were so loose they barely reached him.

'They've lost their fighting spirit.'

Erich felt his vision dim. Using such advanced techniques tired him significantly. His goal was achieved, but—

As none of the remaining barbarians dared approach, Yurtan parted the crowd and stepped forward.

[Truly, your martial prowess is beyond belief, Erich, fatherless Erich. I can hardly believe you have no father with such skill.]

In barbarian society, many learned to fight from their fathers, so this was high praise.

But as he heard this, Erich's blood-smeared eyes grew cold.

[... Forget my father—I'll make sure you become Yurtan the headless.]

With the relaxed Yurtan before him, Erich's gaze shifted elsewhere.

He was looking toward where the Barbarian camp lay. Seeing this, Yurtan's brow twitched.

[... How dare you look away from me.]

[Nothing like that—I'm just waiting for something.]

[Calling for reinforcements, are you?]

[I don't have that many reinforcements.]

Erich gripped his sword and faced off against Yurtan. If the man possessed the power Erich anticipated, the battle could be more troublesome than expected.

Soon, Yurtan's thread of killing intent stretched toward Erich. And when it was pulled taut, Erich's eyes gleamed once more.

― Screeech.

Knowing that it would be of no use, Erich thrust his sword to intercept Yurtan's axe path.

― Clang!

Golden flame flickered from Erich's sword. The aura granted by Incensus was not the typical blue but a golden hue.

But what had changed was not simply the color. The golden aura seared his opponent's skin like real fire every time it touched.

[... Grrk!]

― Clang!

Yurtan, withdrawing swiftly, checked his wound. Blackened, as if scalded by flame. But Erich didn't give him time to recover.

Sword and axe clashed again and again, scattering Erich's golden aura like stardust.

[Guhhh!]

Under the undulating force of aura, Yurtan's skin kept tearing open. But while Yurtan was hard-pressed to block the strikes, Erich still had energy to spare.

'Somehow there's still unused output in my aura? Maybe I'll draw out even more.'

The power bestowed by Incensus seemed to have boosted Erich's strength more than expected.

― Whoooosh!

As Erich increased the output of his aura, flames surged over Yurtan. Not ordinary flames, but aura fire thick with mass and energy.

[Guhah!]

Driven back, Yurtan's broad-bladed sword flew up as he reeled. Erich clicked his tongue.

Since his resurrection after regression, Erich hadn't had a proper duel of aura.

He wasn't yet used to the increased output, so the sharpness of his aura was lacking—but even so, with raw output alone, he was able to overwhelm a head hunter like Yurtan.

'Incensus... So it did give me quite a power.'

Had it not been for his accomplishments in the cave, and the power he received from Incensus, Yurtan's strength would have rivaled even that of shaman Kalga.

Normally, this barbarian would have been a fierce foe requiring Erich to spill his own blood to win. But as he was now, Yurtan was no more challenging than the elders Erich had faced before.

Blood was running down Yurtan's nape. A little deeper and Erich would have cut an artery. Yet Yurtan wore a strange smile as he spoke.

[... You possess a remarkable power. Is that your true strength?]

[You could call it power. Something like that.]

[Well, it's certainly an odd talent. But I am not just any head hunter myself.]

Yurtan smiled faintly. The fact that he was still relaxed after fighting meant he had another trick up his sleeve. Erich could guess as much.

'... So, he's awakened his ability?'

If Erich was right, Yurtan might turn out a more difficult foe than anticipated.

Still, only for a moment—Erich now smiled and pointed calmly over his shoulder.

[I'm not just any Empire man, either. Why don't you all look behind you?]

Yurtan doubted him for a moment. It was obvious—who would turn their back in a fight to the death, just on the enemy's word, and not deserve what was coming to them?

Yet his doubt evaporated when the surrounding barbarians—having glanced back at Erich's words—wore faces of astonishment.

Up until then, Yurtan had blamed the smell of burning in the air on the flames caused by Erich's aura during the fight.

Only now did Yurtan finally realize what the acrid scent that had tickled his nose was.

[......!]

Smoke and fire were rising from the center of the barbarian camp.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

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