Chapter 114
Chapter 114
“…….”
“…….”
“…….”
A heavy silence settled.
Everyone wore expressions of shock.
Some stood there with their mouths agape, staring blankly at Ran Winterbell.
An absolute silence dominated the training ground.
Though thousands of spectators were watching, not even the sound of breathing could be heard.
As if time had stopped, or as if an abyss had swallowed all sound.
Only a strange stillness filled the space.
Everyone in the stands looked as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
Betting slips slipped from between the gamblers’ fingers and fell to the ground.
Normally, those slips were more precious than their lives, yet now they didn’t even think to pick them up.
Their eyes were nailed to the training ground.
In the noble seats, an even deeper shock spread.
Someone dropped the crystal wine glass they were holding, shattering it into pieces.
Ordinarily, it would have caused a great commotion, but even that sound failed to break this eerie silence.
Not a single word came from the nobles.
All eyes were fixed on Ran Winterbell.
Some blinked repeatedly, as if doubting their own eyes,
while others pinched their cheeks, trying to regain their sense of reality.
But this was no illusion.
It was reality.
The seats of the Winterbell Ducal Family, in particular, were plunged into even deeper shock.
They knew just how extraordinary Ryan Winterbell was.
A genius from birth, the perfect heir who had borne all the expectations of the family.
And yet now, he was being pushed back by the youngest, who had once been abandoned.
A trembling voice was heard.
“That… is Ran Winterbell…?”
Another murmured.
“That child who was said to be half-crippled…”
A whisper filled with disbelief.
“How on earth…?”
The voices of the shocked nobles were so faint that they sounded like the wind before fading away.
Even those were soon buried in deep silence.
Under the heavy tension pressing down on the entire training ground, thousands of gazes were focused on a single person.
Ran Winterbell, clad in a black martial uniform.
His figure no longer belonged to the abandoned youngest.
His very existence now appeared to be a new power that would shake the future of the Winterbell Ducal Family.
The one who had once been ignored and cast aside was now capturing everyone’s attention, changing their fate.
However, contrary to everyone else’s thoughts, Ran Winterbell and his beloved sword, Behemoth, felt something was off.
[Something is strange, Ran Winterbell.]
‘Right. You think so too.’
[There’s no way that guy would fall from just this level of attack. Something feels off.]
Ran Winterbell thought the same.
He had gained enlightenment.
He had gained experience.
He had gained essence.
But even so, he couldn’t believe that the strikes he had just unleashed had inflicted fatal damage on Ryan Winterbell.
He wasn’t someone who would go down from something like that.
Ran Winterbell, who had crossed swords with him, knew that better than anyone.
‘What is this? What exactly are you hiding? What are you thinking?’
[Be careful. You must not let your guard down yet.]
Ran Winterbell nodded and slowly walked forward.
Ryan Winterbell, half-kneeling, used his sword as a cane as he looked up at Ran Winterbell.
“Ha ha. You’re strong.”
“…What are you thinking?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you saying this is your true strength?”
“Do you think there’s more?”
Ran Winterbell did not let his guard down. Instead, he swung his sword at high speed—
aiming to slice through his neck.
Swoooosh!
Clang!
The moment Ryan Winterbell sprang to his feet, he deflected Ran Winterbell’s strike.
Ryan’s eyes changed.
All emotion vanished from his silver pupils. The pain that had twisted his face and the fatigue that had weighed him down could no longer be found. It was as if everything until now had been an act.
Instead, a cold killing intent began to rise in his gaze.
Eyes that seemed to hold extreme frost. Like the ice of the abyss, a cold and profound bloodlust bloomed within them. Even the surrounding air seemed to freeze.
“Heh heh heh… indeed.”
A cold smile formed on Ryan’s lips. It was no longer the bitter smile of a defeated man, but that of a predator.
“To think you’d be this much…”
Swoosh!
His sword split the air.
A silver trajectory gleamed coldly like moonlight. It was a speed on a completely different level from before. A strike too fast to follow with the eyes tore through the air.
As if all his injuries had been a lie, there was not a single flaw in his movements. Despite his blood-soaked uniform and deep wounds, his posture was perfect. Rather, his swordsmanship had become even sharper than before.
‘This…!’
Ran’s eyes widened.
He could tell instinctively. Ryan had been hiding his strength all along. Everything until now had been an act.
Only now was the true power of the great wolf, which had hidden its fangs, revealing itself.
Boom!
The two swords collided.
In that instant, a flash burst forth. Silver sparks that outshone even the moonlight scattered in all directions. An impact incomparably stronger than before traveled up Ran’s arm. It felt as if his bones were screaming.
“From now on, this is the real beginning, little brother.”
Ryan’s cold voice rang out. There was no longer any mockery or leisure in his words. Only pure killing intent remained.
A barrage of consecutive strikes poured down like a storm.
With a roar like thunder crashing down, Ryan’s sword tore through the air. Before one attack could even finish, the next had already begun, with yet another strike filling the gaps in between.
It was an entirely different level of offense.
No longer a structured swordsmanship, but a relentless assault filled with pure killing intent. The silver trajectories that never stayed in one place filled Ran’s vision as if shattered moonlight had scattered everywhere.
‘Damn it…!’
Ran’s body moved instinctively.
The sharp senses forged from the experience of his previous life and the blood of the Halla Clan detected the danger and reacted. But Ryan’s sword seemed to have already predicted his movements, as if it knew his next action in advance.
The moment he tried to step back, a flash-like strike grazed Ran’s left shoulder. A sharp pain cut through his flesh, leaving a vivid wound behind.
“Ugh…”
A groan escaped Ran’s lips.
Blood began to flow from the wound carved by the sharp blade. At first, it was a faint red line, but it gradually deepened into a darker crimson.
His black martial uniform tore, and vivid blood seeped through.
Like a flower blooming on snow, the red blood stained the black fabric.
The crimson blood soaking through and dripping down gleamed darkly under the moonlight.
But Ryan’s attack did not stop there. Rather, this was only the true beginning.
“Now I’ll show you. The true swordsmanship of Winterbell.”
Ryan’s body faintly glowed under the moonlight.
His stance completely changed. No longer ordinary swordsmanship—the secret art of Winterbell, passed down through generations, was about to begin.
His silver hair fluttered in the cold wind.
His silver hair, gleaming even colder under the moonlight, sparkled like frost in a winter sky.
The surrounding air seemed to freeze in an instant.
As if his very existence had become the embodiment of midwinter, the temperature of the training ground dropped sharply.
Fourth Finishing Technique – Blizzard Cannon.
The ultimate sword art passed down through generations of the Winterbell Ducal Family.
A deadly sword dance that fired forth a snowstorm.
In an instant, his body blurred.
As if melting into mist, or being swallowed by a blizzard, Ryan’s figure became faint. The boundary between reality and illusion grew unclear, and his form no longer remained fixed in one place.
Like a shadow moving within a snowstorm, his shape became indistinct.
“!”
With every step he took, dozens of afterimages were left behind.
They were not mere illusions.
Each afterimage moved as if it had substance, pressing down on Ran.
His afterimages bloomed from all directions like snowflakes.
Every time his silver hair fluttered, new afterimages were created,
and every time he swung his sword, ice crystals burst forth and shattered in midair.
As if standing at the center of a winter storm, cold frost filled the training ground.
Swoooosh—!
Sword strikes poured down along with a bone-cutting chill.
With a single movement, dozens of slashes followed.
Each attack contained the essence of Winterbell swordsmanship.
Every single one traced a perfect trajectory aimed at delivering a fatal wound.
The continuous sword dance, pouring down like a blizzard, closed in on Ran from all directions.
There was no opening—front, back, left, or right. A perfect pressure that allowed no escape and no moment to breathe.
This was the true form of Blizzard Cannon.
Even without using mana, the Winterbell members were in awe at how perfectly he executed a finishing technique.
[As expected, that bastard had been hiding his strength all this time. Perhaps even this is just another way of toying with you. He’s the kind whose true intentions can’t be read. It doesn’t feel like he cares about winning or losing—rather, it feels like he’s trying to figure out what kind of person you are.]
“…….”
[That one is dangerous, indeed.]
Ryan Winterbell spoke in a low voice.
“Little brother. What exactly are you?”
Then—
Second Finishing Technique – White Wolf Slash.
The ultimate art of the Winterbell Ducal Family, symbolizing the white wolf of the snowy mountains.
A deadly swordsmanship containing both cold and ferocity.
Ryan’s stance changed.
“You are not the Ran Winterbell I knew. You.”
His back lowered, and his center of gravity dropped.
Both feet dug into the ground like the claws of a wolf.
The sword in his hand gleamed coldly like a wolf’s fangs.
No longer human swordsmanship, but movements akin to a wolf’s hunt.
A feral stance bound by no form or rules.
Every muscle tightened like that of a beast, and his breathing grew as cold as a wolf in the snowy mountains of midwinter.
The chill flowing from his entire body froze the surrounding air.
Each time he exhaled, white breath rose, and frost spread outward from beneath his feet.
It was as if his very existence had become the embodiment of midwinter.
His silver hair fluttered beneath the moonlight.
Though there was no wind in the training ground, a frigid gale swirled around him alone.
His silver hair, shining even colder in the moonlight, resembled the mane of a wolf.
A blue light flashed in his eyes.
They were no longer human.
Like a predator of the snowy mountains staring down its prey,
his eyes carried a sharp and chilling killing intent.
Like a wolf targeting its prey in the snowy mountains,
his very presence exuded the pressure of a predator.
A chilling aura and killing intent that froze even the surrounding air.
The madness of the white wolf—the symbol of the Winterbell Ducal Family—took hold of his body.
“Leaving aside the body of Ran Winterbell… who are you?”