I Pulled Out the Excalibur

Gerd, the Empire’s Sword Master.

He wanted to see what Najin was hiding. Excalibur, a masterpiece, or the blessing of the stars. Gerd was certain that the boy before him had something concealed.

“As you proposed, I will not use the exclusive powers of a Sword Master, nor will I rely on extraordinary senses or authority.”

If the boy still refused to reveal anything, Gerd would have to push him into a corner to find out. If he was driven to the verge of death, he would eventually reveal all to save himself, but killing him outright would be meaningless.

This was only for confirmation.

Thus, Gerd laid down the conditions.

“I will swing my sword with intent to kill, but I will give you three chances. If you can make me take a step back before using all three chances, then you win.”

“Isn’t this too advantageous for me?”

“A strong man should show magnanimity. At this level, I can also enjoy the duel, just as you suggested.”

Gerd slowly raised the sword he held.

“If you lose to me, you must reveal everything you’ve been hiding. I will then report it to the Emperor. Moreover, if the Empire requires you, you must answer the call without hesitation.”

“Understood. Then, if I win?”

“I will not press you for anything. Even if you reveal your hidden strength and defeat me, I will not inform the Emperor. I alone will remember. But if you somehow manage to win while still hiding your full power…”

Gerd twisted his lips up, as if daring Najin.

“I will grant you whatever you wish, by my oath on my seven stars.”

As the First Sword of the Empire, a transcendent who held seven stars, his promise to grant anything was not made lightly. He truly had the power to grant almost any wish.

“Do you mean to let me borrow Sir Gerd’s sword?”

“Sword, position, power, wealth, anything. As long as it’s not outright rebellion against the Empire.”

It was a favorable offer.

Najin smiled.

“I accept.”

On the wide plain with the wind blowing, Najin fixed his posture atop Gerd’s crafted scenery. Ahead stood the Empire’s Sword Master, holding his sword.

The Empire’s Sword Master had drawn his sword.

Najin understood the weight of that single line. His whole body trembled, his intuition screamed, and the hand gripping his sword tingled. But it was only momentary. With a deep breath, Najin steadied his grip.

His sword tip no longer wavered.

“……”

Watching Najin in silence, Gerd twisted his lips into a smile. The old man also settled into his stance. He had no need to comply with the duel proposed by the boy or place any restrictions on himself. Yet, he willingly responded to the boy’s spirit.

Before being the First Sword of the Empire, Gerd was a swordsman.

His sword had not lost its luster to the point of refusing a challenge from a talented junior. How long had it been since the last duel? How long since he had faced a bold challenger like this boy? A smile formed on the old man’s lips.

Show me.

Show me your sword.

The Empire’s Sword Master, Gerd.

What kind of sword did he wield?

Gerd had mastered the sword that became the basis for the Empire’s swordsmanship, the same style passed down from Aldemund Basaglia, the national hero and previous First Sword of the Empire.

The Triumph Sword.

A sword that won every battlefield, bringing only victory and glory to the Empire. Only two people in this world, including Gerd, had mastered this swordsmanship. Thus, the features of the Triumph Sword were not well known to the world.

But imperial history books described it as:

An impenetrable fortress.

A sword containing the weight of a thousand years of the Empire.

‘I wondered what that meant.’

Clang!

At the moment their swords collided, Najin’s body was pushed far back. He twisted and landed, sliding to a stop as he clicked his tongue. He understood the descriptions of the Triumph Sword the moment their blades clashed.

It was heavy. So very heavy.

Gerd wielded the sword alone, yet it felt as though hundreds of knights swung their blades in unison. Squinting, Najin lowered his stance. He kept his gaze fixed on Gerd, who aimed his sword at him as if daring him to come closer.

One man stood alone on the wide plain.

This plain was undoubtedly Gerd’s mindscape. That was why Najin had felt puzzled when he first saw it. Why would the mindscape of an old man obsessed with the Empire and the sword be a wide plain?

Najin only solved that question now.

From afar, Gerd raised his sword, as if he didn’t need to take a single step. He lifted it high into the sky and slashed down. In that moment, Najin widened his eyes and instinctively threw himself to the side.

Slash.

The ground split cleanly in a straight line. It was a phenomenon created without using sword aura. Gerd had simply swung his sword and split the distant ground. This made Najin chuckle.

‘There was no need for scenery of the Empire or swords on this plain.’

The old man standing there was the Empire itself.

The sword he wielded was the same as the one wielded by the Empire. Thus, he was the Empire’s First Sword. Watching Gerd swing his sword, Najin was in awe.

He didn’t use sword aura or any miraculous footwork. He simply swung his sword. Resolutely.

Even so, the old man’s sword tip split the scenery far away. His presence couldn’t be hidden, even with restraint. This was the level Gerd had attained. Najin felt pure reverence for this mastery.

If Karan’s swordsmanship conveyed the precision of being endlessly honed, the old man before Najin exuded relentless determination. A man who had reached transcendence by stubbornly pursuing a single thing.

‘But.’

Thud. Najin stomped the ground.

‘I didn’t challenge you to watch some spectacle of scenery-splitting. I didn’t ask for this duel just to stand in awe.’

Najin lowered his stance and widened his eyes.

‘The Sword Saint gave me a sword. The Inquisitor gave me the right to own a masterpiece. So, I should also take something from you.’

With a heavy thud, Najin’s heart pounded fiercely. Had Klaus Aten been present, he would have been astounded. Najin’s stance matched exactly that of Klaus Aten, the Blue Winged Cavalry’s vanguard leader.

Their stances matched. Their heartbeats synchronized.

As Najin stomped the ground and dashed forward, a loud boom resounded. How to sprint with all one’s might. How to become a spear that pierces the battlefield. How to pour the momentum of a charge into one’s weapon. Klaus Aten had taught this to Najin, whether he intended to or not.

Thus, the charging Najin surprised even Gerd. For the first time since the duel began, Gerd frowned as he glared at Najin.

According to the records, Najin had only reached the realm of a Sword Seeker a few weeks ago. But was that really the work of a newly ascended warrior? To the Empire’s Sword Master, it certainly wasn’t.

Najin had complete control over his sword aura. He knew exactly where his physical limits lay and when to focus his strength. He precisely understood how his physical and mana structures had changed upon reaching his new state. These movements were only seen from warriors who had remained in the realm of Sword Seeker for a decade.

It was absurd. Here stood a boy who gave the middle finger to the world’s common sense.

‘Interesting.’

He was even more curious now. What lay at the bottom of this boy’s depths? Gerd wanted to see it. He blocked the boy’s sword coming at him head-on. Despite the momentum packed into it, Gerd did not budge.

‘Show me more.’

He was finally getting excited, so he hoped the boy wouldn’t waste his three chances too quickly.

Najin wasted his first chance when their swords clashed for the seventeenth time. Gerd’s sword had sliced into his shoulder, exploiting a gap in Najin’s posture. Najin’s sword tip aimed at the sky, unable to reach Gerd or even point in his direction.

Without swinging the sword deeper into his shoulder, Gerd merely said, “That’s one.” His face was expressionless.

He wasted his second chance on the forty-third clash. Gerd’s sword was pressed against the nape of Najin’s neck. Though Najin’s sword was also poised in front of Gerd’s shoulder, there was a second’s difference between them. And a second was more than enough time to kill several times over.

“That’s two,” Gerd said, his lips curling into a faint smile.

Najin used up his third chance.

Their swords collided seventy-three times, and Gerd didn’t say “three” afterward. It was too ambiguous to declare outright.

Gerd’s mindscape shattered. By then, the two had returned to the reception room, where Najin was thrown against the door by the impact of the final strike exchanged within the mindscape. The door shattered as he flew into the corridor outside.

Screeeech!

Najin slid along the floor, his sword buried in the ground, finally coming to a stop at the end of the corridor. He slowly picked himself up, a smile on his lips.

“Sir Gerd.”

Najin looked back at Gerd, who stood inside the reception room.

“In this case, whose victory is it?”

Gerd stood there in the reception room, a single step backward from where he had planted his foot. He had taken a step back, and thus his mindscape had shattered. This meant that their final strikes had met each other’s conditions simultaneously.

Najin had used up all three chances.

But he had also fulfilled Gerd’s condition.

He had won but also lost, and lost but also won. How should this be judged? Najin asked Gerd this question, and Gerd laughed aloud. His laughter filled the corridor, echoing from the reception room. It was a joyous laugh.

“Of course, I lost.”

“Isn’t it a draw?”

“A draw means I lost.”

Even while admitting his loss, Gerd laughed. It was clear that he was pleased with the process and outcome of the duel. He exhaled deeply.

“Whose swordsmanship was that final strike?”

“It was my first teacher’s sword.”

“You had a fine teacher. A stubborn yet upright sword, beautiful in its uprightness.”

The old man stroked his beard.

“It was a good duel. The ending of a good duel should also be beautiful. I do not forget the promised reward. Knock on the First Sword’s door whenever you wish.”

The First Sword, the name of the tower where Gerd resided.

With those words, the old man patted Najin on the shoulder and left. Only then did Najin let out a deep breath he had been holding. He had swung his sword so much that his shoulder was stiff.

‘Somehow, we made it through.’

-Well done, but I don’t think you’ll have time to rest.

Merlin grinned.

She waved her fingers as if urging Najin to look around. Following her gesture, Najin finally realized what situation he was in.

“……”

“……”

“……”

The people gathered to recruit Najin.

Countless representatives sent by various groups were staring at Najin with wide eyes, their gazes filled with shock.

Having fainted under the wave of pressure Gerd released, they had barely managed to wake up, only to see Najin fly out the shattered reception room door into the corridor. Even that alone was shocking enough, but afterward?

Gerd had admitted his defeat before Najin.

From the context of the conversation, it seemed a duel had taken place inside, and the winner was Najin. This meant that he had won against the First Sword of the Empire.

Of course, the duel must have had limitations.

But that was irrelevant.

What mattered was that the boy had gained the favor of the First Sword and that the Empire’s Sword Master had acknowledged his victory with a smile.

The stern, famously expressionless Sir Gerd had laughed aloud. And that laughter was genuine.

The people gathered in the corridor were competent and knew exactly what this meant. The 18-year-old who had ascended to the realm of a Sword Seeker, the youngest ever, now had another title added to his list of unbelievable achievements.

Acknowledged by the First Sword of the Empire.

Or perhaps, the youngest Sword Seeker to receive his favor.

Najin’s already soaring reputation skyrocketed further. The groups gathered in the corridor had to throw away their original negotiation plans and devise new ones on the spot.

Immediately, they rushed towards Najin.

To secure this unbelievable asset.