"Is that... a wild dog?"
Wild dogs, the kind that often appeared as grunt enemies even in Reunion. Still, in a pack they're menacing.
"Moejang. Should I draw my blade?"
"No. If our identities are exposed, the trackers might gain the upper hand in pursuit."
"Then it's going to be a brawl? That's my specialty!"
Even the Sword Sect doesn't use only swords. Lee Sang was like that too.
"On the battlefield, a dependable sword is crucial, but surviving is more important. In the Sword Sect we value the blade, yet that doesn't mandate fighting with it exclusively. Some masters take up the bow as a support weapon, and I myself have taken as many lives with non-sword tools as I have with the blade."
"Huh? Is that so?"
"Precisely. In that sense, you might be born for this. At your age, before you ever held a sword, you were brawling and honing your own skill."
That's right. Brawls are my specialty. I've fought with anything I could get my hands on: wine bottles, sling stones, knives, even makeshift clubs forged by nailing newspapers together.
"All right, let's go!"
And crossbow bolts. Here, they fight with arrow tips.
Thwack!
"Ha. No sight makes you gain perspective now? You're dead today."
I drove the arrowhead into the dog's eye and followed with a kick. It died instantly.
Grrr...!
"Oh? You think you're strong because you're in a pack? You're still too confident."
I guess they still see me as nothing but prey.
"Ah! A hunting knife! Perfect for instruction!"
A knife meant to finish off game or strip its hide. It's surprisingly well maintained.
It's too short, but enough to slice through!
The blue sheen of arrogance that believes whatever it grips can be cleaved. The Sect's sword methods revolve around thrusts, but I have no intention of stopping there.
The silver-and-blue blade buried into the black dog's belly,
It cleaves from the inside as if bursting it apart...
The blade severs flesh; the heart is what it shatters. The knife, driven deep, scours the organs as it cleaves.
"Just burst and die."
Even the dog died leaving only its hide. I thought only tigers did that. Far from a clean job, the shattered pieces of the wild dog's corpse fell thud, thump to the ground, mixing with the dirt.
"What? Are you running away? I was just getting warmed up."
Ironically, most people would feel squeamish or disgusted, but I honestly don't. Sure, I'm pissed that my clothes are dirty, but otherwise my mind feels clear.
"So this is how one survives..."
The rush when the blade slices. Along this edge I perform a balancing act. Tip one way and you become a beast killing for pleasure; tip the other and you end up a mediocre swordsman.
"How does Moejang... oh, it's a racial difference."
He crushed its skull with his bare hands? The Ursus... It reminds me that I too unleashed ridiculous strength back then. How did I summon it?
"...What are you doing? Why are you punching me?"
"Practice. Trying to draw out the brute force I used to kill that monster."
Moejang is tough; even if he gets hit, he won't die.
"If it's practice, save it for later. For now, we move forward. Hunters aren't the kind to be dropped by a pack of wild dogs."
True enough. Even if no big predators lurk nearby, the veteran hunters looked formidable. They wouldn't be bested by mere wild dogs.
"Hold on, Moejang. Bend down. Interlace your fingers like this, pointing downward."
"I see your intent. We'll launch on the count of three."
"Good. One, two... three!!"
The Ursus, like the Dracona or Wyvern, ranks among Terra's strongest for raw power. Lifting a child into the air is trivial for them.
He vaulted higher than the buildings, landing on a thatched roof. From there he scanned the area and spotted a section billowing heavy smoke and faint voices.
"Inside, at three o'clock! There's something over there!"
"Gunpowder fills the air. Let's move."
Speed is my strong suit too. I've run across rooftops like this countless times, looting offices and making my escape.
The smell of smoke... did something topple?
Or is the one hunting them so powerful as to bring fire with him?
"Hey! Are you all right?! He's still breathing! Snap out of it!"
It's the hunter from earlier. He was beaten severely, as if struck by something. He's beyond saving unless there's a healing Arts.
"Cough... it's a bull... a bull...!"
Bull? What does he mean by bull? Is a bull responsible for all this chaos?
"Hey kid! What are you doing there? Run! Or you'll die!"
"But this person...!"
"He's already dead! Run! The mountain spirit is on a rampage!"
I know he's dead. What matters is information. I've killed many and seen many die, but I've never seen wounds like this. It's a scar incomparable to any baseball bat blow. Did he get into a vehicular accident?
"Hey, do you know anything? What's a bull?"
"A bull! Yes, a bull—"
Crush!
The other hunter's words cut off. He was crushed to fragments underfoot. Only his left arm remained intact, thrown by the pressure of that step and landing before me.
"...What is that...?"
It's roughly the size I slashed before, but its body gleams like polished brass—a bull, indeed.
"Is it looking this way?!"
A frontal fight with that thing is impossible. First, I need to regroup with Moejang!
Rumble—!
"This is insane! A stone wall shatters like that?"
I kicked off a remnant wall and leapt onto the roof. The wall had been pulverized into dust.
The only way to beat something like that head-on is this.
The voice echoed inside me. Can you hear it? Will you help me now?
......
So you think it's not time to help yet, you bastard. Fine. I'll handle this on my own!
Mooo—!
"What? The blade bounced off? Is this creature's hide...?"
Not just looking like metal, but truly metallic in nature?
Ummmmm...!
A moment's complacency and it flicks me aside!
"Got it."
"Moejang!!! We're fucked! Something stronger than that thing has appeared!"
"Confirmed. The blade won't penetrate."
"Moejang's blade?"
"No. Yours."
Oh, right. He's the commander—several tiers above me.
Ummmmm!!!
"Huh... It's quite hefty."
"Unbelievable... you blocked that with raw power...?"
I knew he was strong, but that was a different league...
Moooooooo!!!
"Quiet. First order: detach those horns."
Meursault's blade was drawn, and a silver line blazed through the air like a brushstroke.
Thunk.
And while my blade couldn't breach its hide, it cleaved off the much denser, thicker horn as if it were tofu.
This is the strength of the Sword Sect commander…
A being I can't even stand against right now.
"Watch closely. Someday I intend to pass this technique on to you."
"A technique..? For me?"
Given that you fight through self-destruction, you'll likely wield it more effectively than I would.
The sword raised from low to high…
"Moejang?! Moejang!!!!"
What technique? He got hit dead center, no less!
"[Flesh Rend]..."
Huh? Why is Moejang still standing firm even after taking that hit?
Ummmmm—!!!!
The bull charges again, and Meursault draws his sword with precision. A blue aura of lethal intent flickers around him.
"This is [Yukcham Godan]. A technique that yields flesh and shaves bone. I will one day pass this technique on to you."
"[Yukcham Godan]..."
Could I achieve such a sword strike too...?