Chapter 98

Chapter 32. The Arena of Cosmos (9)

As the two people paused in their movements, the audience continuously erupted in cheers. Some were burning with frustration at the sudden reversal of the situation, while others were regaining hope in their bets, shouting loudly.

Dante's voice did not carry over the roar of the crowd, and the two people continued to stare at each other.

"Don't look at me."

The moment Dante heard those words, the emotion he felt was:

Embarrassment.

'Right... It could have looked that way. As if I was watching over you.'

In any situation, a warrior's sword inevitably becomes dull the moment they hesitate to strike their opponent. It is a pitiful thing to do in front of an enemy and an incredibly rude act when facing a worthy opponent.

Whether to use Hyiran's secret technique or not was not an important issue from the beginning.

'Is there anything more embarrassing than not giving your best to an opponent you have acknowledged?'

To give one's all without wavering.

If the match ends without doing so, defeat or victory is meaningless.

"I showed you an ugly side. Let's start again."

Dante gently extended his blade forward, a gesture to clash swords and show respect. When Jin calmly met the blade, a soft friction sound was heard.

Surprisingly, at that moment, both experienced a strange sensation simultaneously.

The cheers sounded like echoes falling off a cliff, the surroundings darkened, and it felt as if only the two of them remained in this space.

The belief that fighting until one of them fell could be such a joyful moment.

They knew this sensation without needing to verbalize it. Both were caught in a prophetic vision, a common experience for warriors who have met their match.

"Then let's start again."

Huff.

Puff.

The two took a breath simultaneously.

Without waiting for who would move first, the two swords began to intertwine again. Unlike when they clashed in respect, sparks flew from the blades once more.

Amid the sounds of breaking air, explosions, friction, and shattering, sword light rained down like fragments.

It seemed as if the signs of fatigue were a lie, as Dante wielded his sword more fiercely than at any other moment since the match began.

Jin, too, let out a roar, unleashing all his remaining strength.

Clash.

The shockwave caused the mixed blood and sand to harden like stone, scattering in all directions, while the cheers began to die down.

The reason the audience, who should have been shouting in excitement, fell silent was:

They were overwhelmed. The sight of the fighting boys appeared like giants to the audience, and it was a shame to blink, even for a moment.

In the ten years since the arena opened, such a scene had never been seen.

Those who came to witness a crude and brutal spectacle were blessed to see a genuine and legendary duel today.

Gambling was now irrelevant. Of course, after the match and the excitement passed, some would laugh and some would cry.

At least for this moment.

Everyone was simply in awe of the boys' sword fight.

'Maybe I underestimated Dante. I thought he was exhausted, but where does this intense power come from...!'

Blood trickled from Jin's lips as he thought this. He had unknowingly bitten his lip while parrying Dante's attacks.

His sense of swordsmanship was a gift from the heavens.

His physical strength and power were incredibly ordinary, or rather, below average. This small man had, over time,

put in an unimaginable amount of effort. How many times had he knelt in deep frustration and despair to overcome his fatal flaws as a warrior?

Those who have struggled to the brink of death can recognize the efforts of others. In his previous life, Jin, as Runkandel, had a body that was almost useless, and he had immersed himself in hell every day to break through the barrier of just one star.

So he could see Dante's past.

The image of him crouched in the middle of a dark training ground, screaming at his small and frail reflection in the mirror, and whipping himself through life and death.

And in all those moments, he never once let go of his sword.

It was as if he was like Jin's past self.

But unlike his past self, Dante never ultimately failed...

'This makes me want to cry.'

The reason Dante's voice was so hoarse:

It was the result of a lifetime of struggling to overcome a handicap that was almost a curse.

Shiver.

A tremor ran through him.

After navigating that realm to become the next head of the Hyiran family. And the driving force that allows him to work harder every day than the day before is:

Simply because he is fascinated by the sword as a weapon.

If not, even being born into the imperial nobility, life would be nothing more than a tedious play.

Dante is such a person.

'Jin Runkandel. The third of the Runkandels.'

While his body shook from the sword strikes, Dante was also thinking about Jin.

'You were born with everything.'

The Runkandel lineage, which every warrior dreams of, a body blessed with that lineage, and already reaching the fifth star at fifteen, now matching Dante's skill at sixteen.

The talent of talents.

'Yet, from you...'

Why does such a sense of desperation come from you? Even though you were born in a world that could be called the heavens for warriors, why do you seem like someone who has always watched the heavens from afar?

Desperate and determined.

'Why does such deep emotion permeate your sword, born with everything? Is it because, as the youngest, the path to power is infinitely distant? No, you are not a small person who clings to order.'

Just because you want to be the best?

Or, have you also experienced many days of shuddering in despair, perhaps even more than I have?

'What are you, Jin Runkandel? It doesn't matter what you are today.'

This is the day to prove that my past efforts were not in vain.

He tightened his grip on the sword.

Crack.

He could feel a crack in his hand bones. A sudden, chilling pain spread through his body, but Dante smiled regardless.

Just...

Every time he wielded his sword, the cracks in his hand bones widened, but Dante's posture did not change. Then his shoulder, chest, waist, and even the soles of his feet.

They began to wobble precariously, as if about to break.

Dante did not resent his weak body.

'I'm just fighting because I like it.'

However, despite his smiling face, the tense situation began to tilt in Jin's favor.

'Dante's body... is breaking?'

Feeling the swords clash so intensely, Jin could not miss this fact.

The moment he regained the upper hand.

Jin felt anger, not joy.

'Why aren't you using Hyiran's secret technique yet...! Is there some other move I don't know about?'

No.

Dante, who had started to retreat, was a beast fighting with all his might. His eyes still shone with fierce determination, but he was truly exhausted this time.

Beyond just being tired, he was reaching a state of complete exhaustion.

'There was definitely a chance. And you no longer hesitated to strike me. So why...'

Now it was Jin's turn to choose.

To strike or not to strike. There was no need to think long.

'If I sheathe my sword here, it would be a desecration to you.'

Clang!

With a horizontal strike, Jin's blow shook Dante's body. As he lost his balance, a few bones in his body, which had been precariously holding on, broke, and before he could turn his head to follow Jin's movements,

Braadamante was already unleashing its second sword light.

Fortunately.

The blade was filled with hesitation.

'Damn it! Why!'

Jin, gritting his teeth, redirected the blade's trajectory as it rushed toward Dante's chest. The recoil from forcibly twisting the trajectory caused his grip to loosen.

Braadamante, freed from Jin's hand, flew into the dirt, and Dante's sword was now aimed at Jin's neck.

It seemed to be aimed. As he fell, the sword he held wobbled with his body.

When the second attack continued, Dante had already lost consciousness.

Thud!

Dante fell to the ground.

And Jin, breathing heavily, blinking wildly, looked down at him.

Time seemed to stand still.

The audience, too, held their breath, and Jin...

His mind was in chaos. Instead of a sense of victory, his body was burning with indescribably complex emotions.

It was the hope that Dante was not dead. But the certainty that he was, made him afraid to bend down and check.

Instinctively, he sat on the ground and felt for Dante's pulse, but the pounding of his own heart drowned out everything.

'I need to call a doctor...!'

Just as he opened his mouth to call for a doctor, anyone who could help, another boy leaped from the audience into the arena.

"Master!"

Followed by the bodyguards.

Beraadin Zipple, running across the arena like a madman, his hands glowing with green magic.

He had been preparing healing magic since the middle of the match, worried about losing one of them here.

"Beraadin...!"

"Don't worry, I'll save him!"

Beraadin knelt before Dante and began to chant a spell.

One, two, and then three.

Beraadin displayed an incredible ability by simultaneously casting three healing spells, but Jin could not take his eyes off Dante.

Beraadin's expression was not good. Even though it had been less than ten seconds, the amount of magic he was drawing was evident as sweat poured down his body like rain.

Even though a healing spell that could instantly recover severe injuries was being cast, Dante could not open his eyes.

As Jin and Beraadin's insides burned with anxiety,

Beraadin withdrew his magic and weakly shook his head.

'It's wrong. It's beyond the level that can be healed by magic...!'

His internal organs were twisted.

Not a single bone was intact. The aura inside his broken body was raging, and even if Beraadin were the Holy King Miklan, regeneration would be difficult.

"Jin."

Suddenly, Beraadin whispered Jin's name.

"Dante is."

"Listen carefully. This is a secret between the three of us."

Beraadin, continuing, pulled something out from his pocket.