I Pulled Out the Excalibur

Chapter 31 – Mid-Rank Priest Volkman (2)

Seeing Volkman’s reaction, Najin was certain. His plan had successfully taken effect.

‘It looks like the plan worked.’
-So it seems.

After accepting Volkman’s request, Najin had researched the Order of the Sword. He gathered information from Merlin’s knowledge, rumors about the Order, and relevant books. Information about the Order of the Sword was relatively easy to find since they were an open, not a closed group.

Based on the information he gathered, Najin had come to one conclusion before starting the request.

‘I can show off some of my talent.’

Of course, Najin knew that displaying his talent could be perceived as a ‘dangerous element’. If he blatantly copied the secret sword techniques of noble families, it would complicate matters. Yet, he chose to reveal his talent in front of Volkman because he was confident. He believed it was safe to do so in front of the Order of the Sword.

「Haha. Such an enthusiastic young man.」
「Feel free to watch. Just don’t come too close. It could be dangerous.」

From Volkman’s previous conversation, Najin confirmed that the information he found about the Order was correct.

‘The Order of the Sword doesn’t hide its swordsmanship.’

Dedicating decades or their entire lives to the enhancement of swordsmanship, the members of the Order didn’t mind their techniques being exposed to the outside world.

Moreover, if someone stole their swordsmanship and developed it in their own way, the Order would actually applaud and celebrate the fact. They were content if new paths in swordsmanship were opened.

-I told you. It’s a group of odd ones.

Merlin commented.

-They’re satisfied if it leads to the advancement of swordsmanship. Their way of thinking is a bit different.

The priests of the Order of the Sword.
What they valued most was the development of swordsmanship and the nurturing of swordsmen. Mulling over this, Najin recalled the rules of the Order of the Sword he had read about.

He had succeeded in garnering Volkman’s interest.

What remained was to attract Volkman using those rules. Recalling the plan he had set in advance, Najin fiddled with his sword handle.

‘If I’m lucky…’

I might be able to imitate a wider range of swordsmanship.
Watching Volkman swing his sword, Najin licked his lips. He didn’t plan on learning just a few simple techniques and returning. He suspected that Volkman had many more techniques hidden up his sleeve.

‘If I’ve decided to steal…’

Najin smiled.

‘I might as well clean him out completely.’

After finishing off the remaining orcs, Volkman let out a long breath. Sweat beads formed on his forehead, and his breath was rugged. Even for a Sword Expert, facing orcs without sword aura wasn’t easy.

But that’s what made it training.

Relying on the sharpness of sword aura dulls the inherent sharpness of the sword itself. Each time Volkman affirmed the sharpness of his swordsmanship honed over many years through such training, he felt joy.

Normally, he would be smiling happily now, but…

‘…’

Volkman couldn’t smile.
He turned his head back silently. Something was bothering him. There stood a young man, stuffing the necks of orcs Volkman had sliced into a sack.

The young man who introduced himself as Ivan.

Before starting the orc hunt, when the young man asked if he could closely observe Volkman’s swordsmanship, Volkman readily agreed. The young man seemed diligent in his training and eager to learn, which Volkman liked.

‘So I allowed him to watch.’

Volkman’s eyes narrowed.
He vividly remembered the movement the young man had just shown. As if sensing the goblins’ approach from the blind spot, he moved before Volkman could even shout.

That could be passed off as good intuition, but…
The problem was the swordsmanship that followed.

The combination and circulation of stances, creating a flow of both offense and defense. That was the swordsmanship Volkman showed the young man, the foundation of the Order of the Sword’s techniques.

Of course, the techniques themselves weren’t rare.
The Order of the Sword’s techniques were well-known, especially the four basic stances often found in common swordsmanship textbooks.

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‘But still…’

Volkman pressed his temple.
The Order didn’t fear disclosing their swordsmanship because it wasn’t something just anyone could mimic. The Order’s Sword was perfected through years of training and repetition.

Small movements were finely adjusted, and mastery of a single stance often took years to perfect. The sophistication of these stances was the essence of the Order’s swordsmanship.

‘A swordsmanship that only effort and time can perfect.’

It’s not something you can just watch and replicate. Even if you steal the techniques, you can’t steal the time invested in mastering them.

‘Surely

that should be the case.’

But what about the young man’s movements just now?
Although it lasted only for a moment, Volkman clearly saw it. The young man’s posture was perfectly angled, and the transition between stances was smooth.

The force in each step.
The angle of arm movement and the trajectory of the sword tip.
The direction of his gaze and breath.
Even the grip on the sword.

All were perfectly mastered. The young man’s precise movements were not something that could be achieved overnight.

‘So…’

The sophistication he showed was equivalent to what middle-ranking priests, who had practiced the same movements for decades, might have. Despite the difference in physique and appearance, Volkman felt as if he was looking in a mirror when he saw the young man move.

He was so similar to Volkman.
Even the slightest habits and movements.

Feeling this uncanny similarity, Volkman was uneasy. Did he watch for a moment and then copy it? No, that was logically impossible. Then had he learned the Order’s techniques somewhere before?

No matter how much he pondered, no answer came.

“Was it Ivan?”

After much deliberation, Volkman finally spoke up.
Approaching the young man, he asked,

“Have you learned the Order of the Sword’s techniques somewhere before? The movements you showed earlier were our techniques, not something that can be perfected overnight. It seems you’ve trained for a long time…”

The young man remained silent.
Volkman continued to probe.

“If you have a master who taught you swordsmanship, may I know their name?”

If the young man had a master,
Surely they would be a renowned swordsman. For a young man of his age to attain such perfect postures, he must have had a good master to correct his stances.

‘A high-ranking priest of the Order? Or a famous wandering swordsman? Either way, it would be someone well-versed in the Order’s techniques.’

Who could it be?
Volkman might even know them. With these thoughts, Volkman waited for the young man to speak, but…

‘…’

The young man remained silent.
Feeling frustrated, Volkman was about to ask again when,

“I’ve heard a lot about the Order of the Sword.”

The young man finally spoke.
What he said wasn’t what Volkman expected, but it was not something to be ignored. A certain word uttered by the young man narrowed Volkman’s eyes.

“There is this rule there.”

The Sword Rule.
Like the knights of Atanga following their long-standing knightly rules, the Order of the Sword has been adhering to a few guidelines set by the first Sword Saint.

The young man articulated one of those rules.

“If you wish to discuss the sword, then argue with the sword.”

Volkman’s eyes widened.
A chuckle then broke through his lips, quickly turning into a hearty laugh.

『If you wish to discuss the sword, then argue with the sword.』

The first Sword Saint, known for his boisterous and unrestrained nature, always preferred swords over words, advocating that a swordsman should naturally speak through the sword.

Essentially, this rule meant:

Why bother with words when a sword fight can tell you everything? Instead of weighing pros and cons, just draw your sword and charge. A few exchanges will naturally reveal everything.

In other words, it was a call for a sword duel.

“That’s quite bold for a young man.”

A smile formed on Volkman’s lips.
Not all priests follow the rules strictly. Volkman himself remembered the rules but wasn’t bound by them.

However,

Ignoring a swordsman mentioning the Sword Rule in front of him was not something Volkman took lightly. Besides, Volkman himself agreed with the young man’s words.

“Certainly, your words are correct.”

Volkman found the young man intriguing and wanted to assess his abilities. In this regard, sparring was unparalleled.

With a swift motion, Volkman drew his sword, sheathed and all, from his waist. Tightly binding the scabbard to his belt, he pointed his sword at the young man.

“A priest of the Sword can’t disregard the rule. I’m somewhat interested in your swordsmanship. May I request a spar?”

The young man silently performed a sword salute and, after firmly securing his sword and scabbard, took a step back.

“I would appreciate it.”
“Alright. Will you answer my questions after the spar?”
“You will naturally understand as we spar.”
“You’re not one to give in easily, huh?”

Muttering to himself, Volkman flicked his sword, signaling he would yield the first move. Observing Volkman’s relaxed demeanor, Najin inwardly smiled.

He had succeeded in piquing interest and invoking the rule to draw Volkman in. All that remained was to push Volkman and extract his yet unseen techniques.

To do so, he must first take away that composure.

Najin stepped forward, lowering his stance. Volkman’s eyes narrowed at the sight. It was a stance he had never seen before. Of course, it wasn’t the Order of the Sword’s technique, nor anyone else’s.

A sword optimized for initial strikes.
A technique Najin developed in the underground city, to decide victory in a flash and seize momentum. It was raw swordsmanship, almost unfit to be called a technique.

But, with Najin’s innate senses,
It was a devastatingly sharp strike. With a burst of acceleration, he charged forward without enhancing his body with mana, yet his strike was incredibly fast.

“……!”

Volkman’s eyes widened.
The young man’s figure darted from the blind spot with an accelerated movement. Expecting an upward slash from the low position, he was surprised as Najin leaped forward instead.

The trajectory of the sword twisted.

Not from below to above, but a diagonal downward slash. Responding quickly, Volkman adopted a stance he had repeated countless times, fending off Najin’s sword. Feeling the heavy impact through his hand, Volkman, without hesitation, countered with his next sword strike, refusing to lose the seized momentum.

As the spar continued, Volkman felt a sense of dissonance.

The young man in front of him wasn’t using sword aura or mana. Although there was a small amount of mana in his body, the young man’s movements were incredibly fast, as if he was manipulating mana.

‘No, that’s not it.’

Volkman realized what was causing the unease.
It was the young man’s eyes, moving faster than his body. Volkman understood then. The young man wasn’t moving faster; he was moving ‘first.’

Predicting where the sword would swing.
Anticipating Volkman’s attacks.

The young man was always a step ahead, both advancing and retreating with precise timing, leaving Volkman in awe.

‘Raw and unrefined, yet…’

It had the sharpness of raw talent.
The young man’s sword strikes, like a wild beast’s fangs, flashed moment by moment. Volkman comfortably deflected them all, but his ease crumbled when Najin adopted a new stance.

Boom.

Stomping the ground, Najin raised his sword. It was a stance stolen from Volkman. Focusing on defense, having blocked Najin’s sword multiple times, he now countered Volkman’s attacks.

Connecting one stance to another.
Imitating Volkman’s movements.

It was the Order of the Sword’s technique. However, the steps and force distribution used by Najin in connecting the stances were uniquely Volkman’s. Perfected over decades of training, it was like Volkman’s habit.

“…!”

Volkman’s gaze wavered.
Although he couldn’t be certain from a distance, facing each other in a sword duel made it clear. That was his swordsmanship.

Clang!

As their swords clashed, Volkman felt an odd sensation. It was like looking into a mirror. As Volkman displayed a new technique, the mirror shattered, but a new one appeared instantly.

The mirror, reflecting the young man, promptly imitated Volkman’s advanced techniques.

The first attempt was clumsy. But on the second try, the young man’s sword path was perfect. The trajectory bore the decades of training Volkman had invested.

“Ha…!”

Out of disbelief and incomprehension,
Volkman burst into laughter.

Continuing the sword clash, Volkman realized the meaning behind the young man’s words before the duel. When he asked who the young man’s master was, the young man had said that it would become apparent as they sparred.

‘That’s what he meant!’

Volkman felt chills run down his arms.
There was no need to inquire about the master.
The man currently crossing swords with the young man was effectively his master.

He mimicked the techniques shown to him, not just the moves, but the decades of training Volkman had invested were being stolen by Najin.

Volkman was aware of this yet did not stop. Instead, a smile spread across his face. He too was enjoying this sword duel.

‘I’ve seen countless so-called geniuses.’

Monsters catching up with a lifetime of others in a moment. The young man before him was one of them. Dueling with Najin, Volkman remembered a man.

A comrade who joined the Order with him.
Now unreachable.

The youngest Sword Expert, Sword Seeker, Sword Master… A peerless genius who toppled records to reach the pinnacle.

‘The Sword Saint, Caron of the Order of the Sword.’

Recalling the sensation of clashing swords with Caron, still an Expert then, Volkman felt it again. The sensation of his own efforts being negated. But Volkman wasn’t displeased.

‘Show me more.’

It was beneficial for him too.
Responding to Najin’s unpredictable movements with pure swordsmanship was challenging for Volkman. He could have easily countered using sword aura and mana, but that would defy the purpose.

Moreover, the young man was mimicking his swordsmanship.

The precise imitation made him feel like looking at his reflection. Volkman discovered his own shortcomings from the young man’s movements. He realized what needed to be improved.

It was a valuable experience and a great sparring partner.

But even that was nearing its end. Cracks appeared in the scabbard with a snap. Volkman adjusted his stance for the last time, preparing his most powerful strike yet.

Swoosh…

Volkman’s footsteps scattered across the field. His complex footwork was too intricate for even Najin’s quick eyes. Sliding into Najin’s space, Volkman swung his sword.

A flashing strike leaving afterimages.

Crash!

At the moment their swords met, Volkman’s scabbard shattered. Barely blocking the strike, Najin was pushed back, tumbling to the ground. When he stood up, there was Volkman, looking satisfied.

“That was a good spar, Ivan.”

He smiled.

“When you can handle sword aura… I’d like to cross swords with you again, with sword aura involved.”

Approaching Najin, Volkman extended his hand. Grasping it, Najin stood up, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his tingling hand. Volkman spoke,

“Have you considered joining the Order of the Sword?”