Chapter 189: Sword Demon (3)
Boom!
“Urgh…!”
Harang, barely blocking the Head’s attack with his sword, let out a groan.
The power was imnse.
The rage burning in his head cooled instantly under the overwhelming gap in strength.
‘This is a Master!’
The kick, casually delivered by the Head, was far stronger than the sword of Acanthus' strongest, Sword Master Heitz.
No wonder he was hailed as the south’s third strongest.
But that thought only fueled Harang’s fire.
Not excitent or anticipation at facing a strong opponent.
Anger at the Seton Swordsmanship Hall, which, despite such power, did nothing for self-preservation.
Whoosh!
The flas in his heart spread through his body.
The fury combined with the Delkaro Kingdom’s Aura Cultivation thod lightened his body.
The Head’s third attack ca—a kick.
Sharper and heavier than the Vice-Head’s full-force sword strike, it couldn’t be taken lightly.
Pow!
“…!”
A fleeting look of surprise crossed Nigel Nunez’s face.
Three exchanges.
In just three exchanges, the black-haired youth adapted, showing stable defense.
He smacked his lips in regret.
He wanted him so badly.
Such radiant talent.
If he could recruit him, the Seton Swordsmanship Hall’s future would be secure.
Surpassing the four great sword families of the west.
Even outshining the Holy Kingdom’s White Knight Commander, known as the continent’s greatest sword!
The expectation that a Seton swordsman could stand at the pinnacle thrilled him.
‘Of course…’
The current situation wasn’t ideal.
He’d heard Harang’s complaints.
He seed deeply dissatisfied with the swordsmanship hall’s inaction during the Red Magician’s incident, but the hall felt unjustly accused.
‘I acknowledge it must be upsetting from his perspective.’
The problem wasn’t that.
It was how to persuade him to join the Seton Swordsmanship Hall.
‘Suppressing him with a sword won’t work. His spirit isn’t weak enough to be broken by force…’
So what should he do?
What sweet words could sway him even slightly?
With that thought, Nigel Nunez landed on the plain outside the autonomous region’s walls, following Harang, who had landed due to gravity.
He spoke.
“Nice view, isn’t it?”
“Don’t know.”
“Haha, still upset, I see.”
“Honestly, yes.”
“I’d feel the sa. To you, I have enough power but cowered like a scared rat, refusing to act. That nearly cost your friend’s life.”
“….”
“Didn’t expect to admit it so openly, did you?”
“No.”
Harang nodded.
Every leader of a major organization he’d t was prideful, never admitting mistakes or accepting criticism.
But he wasn’t sure yet.
He doubted Nigel Nunez had brought him here just to apologize.
What was his purpose in bringing him here?
As he pondered, Nigel Nunez continued.
“I’m afraid of the Red Magician.”
“….”
“If I weren’t the Head of the Seton Swordsmanship Hall but an unaffiliated wanderer, maybe I wouldn’t be. Or if I were twenty years younger, even as a leader, I might have boldly declared war on him. But… I’m old now, with many responsibilities. My life isn’t just my own.”
What followed were things Harang had already heard.
How Nigel Nunez had raised the Seton Swordsmanship Hall to the south’s pinnacle.
How many swordsn had sacrificed their lives and efforts for it.
If that tower crumbled due to a single rash decision… would that be right as a leader?
“I admit, it’s all excuses. If I were more just, stronger, skilled enough not to fear the Red Magician… I would’ve acted the day it happened. That’s right. But I have a question for you.”
“…What?”
“You were disappointed and angry with the swordsmanship hall’s actions because you lacked the strength, the confidence in yourself, didn’t you?”
“….”
Harang stared at Nigel Nunez with a stoic expression and intense eyes.
But his heart was different.
His emotions, stirred by the words, spread through his body, making his hands tremble.
Seeing this, the Head continued.
“If you had enough strength, you wouldn’t have hesitated.”
“….”
“You would’ve stord the Red Magician’s lair without wasting ti.”
“….”
“I know why you didn’t. Why you watched our actions, got disappointed, angry, and only then acted. It’s because… you lacked the strength. You wanted to rely on others’ power more than your own, didn’t you?”
Harang couldn’t respond.
It was true.
Too true to refute.
If he had the power to handle the Red Magician alone, he wouldn’t have cared about the swordsmanship hall’s actions.
Why?
Because he could’ve solved it himself.
He wouldn’t have needed anyone’s help.
But he couldn’t, as Nigel Nunez said, because of his own lack of strength.
At that mont, Harang realized.
The flas rising in his chest, the source of his anger.
The volcanic emotions raging within him recently.
‘It was my own incompetence.’
Yes.
Not Ulrik’s death.
Not Allen ir’s death.
Not the swordsmanship hall’s cowardice.
Nor the actions of the Black Hydra, the Red Magician, or other hostile groups tornting him.
It was all about himself, unable to resolve the situation due to his lack of power.
That self-loathing, that sense of inadequacy, was the root of his anger.
As he realized this, his aura began to change, unbeknownst to him.
Hummmm…
Nigel Nunez, the Head of the Seton Swordsmanship Hall, didn’t notice.
He only saw Harang’s reddened eyes, assuming his words had gotten through, unaware of the shifting aura emanating from Harang’s heart.
So he kept talking.
He wanted to say what he’d been holding back since first eting Harang.
“Harang. Join the Seton Swordsmanship Hall.”
“….”
“I can’t defeat the Red Magician. Want to be more honest? It’s not just him. I may strut around the south, but across the continent, many surpass . The four great sword families of the west, so central swordsmanship halls… the Holy Kingdom goes without saying. Even the great mages of the east aren’t beneath . I’ve lived watching their every move, like a vassal cautious of a lord. But!”
Taking a deep breath, Nigel Nunez stared at Harang with intense eyes and continued.
“You’re different. Join the Seton Swordsmanship Hall, train under , and the future you, far stronger than now… could overturn everything. You could beco the continent’s greatest swordsman, beyond the south’s best!”
“….”
Harang gazed deeply at the impassioned Head.
He wasn’t wrong.
Harang’s current level was at the peak of Graduate, one step from Sword Master.
With guidance from Nigel Nunez, a top-tier Master, it would be like giving wings to a tiger.
‘If I grow stronger, I can protect my connections. His offer might not be bad.’
But why?
Harang didn’t feel like accepting it readily.
He felt there was a way to reach Master without his guidance.
No, more precisely, he felt he could beco a Master right now.
Swish!
Hum!
Harang drew his sword.
He manifested an Aura Sword.
A dense, razor-sharp embodint of power.
What it lacked was the intense emotion to reveal his ‘color.’
‘It’s not lacking.’
Harang closed his eyes tightly.
Ignoring the Head’s gaze, he focused inward, reflecting on past events.
The incidents caused by his shortcomings, the regret, self-loathing, and beyond that, self-hatred!
It made his heart pound like a volcano about to erupt.
The black necklace in his pouch resonated, vibrating.
“…Ugh!”
Sensing sothing ominous, Nigel Nunez drew his sword.
A blue Aura, befitting his ‘Blue Blood Swordsman’ moniker, enveloped his blade.
The ground trembled as if an earthquake had struck, influenced by his aura.
Remarkably, Harang’s figure didn’t budge under the Head’s aura.
‘What? Sothing’s off!’
Nigel Nunez swallowed hard.
He expected emotional turmoil.
But this was unexpected.
It resembled the awakening from Graduate to Master, a cause for celebration, but it felt different.
A far more sinister atmosphere surrounded Harang.
“You! Snap out of it!”
The Head’s Aura-laced roar cracked nearby rocks.
But Harang remained unmoved, his sword’s aura still radiating nace.
If this continued, the grayish aura might turn red, blood-red.
Swish-
“Everyone, calm down.”
A sudden voice interrupted.
Harang snapped open his eyes, recognizing the familiar figure.
“…Beggar Old Man?”
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