Chapter 131. That’s It. Let’s Just Swing Our Swords (2)

Kwaang! Kwang! Kwang!

The clash between Antorius and Cierion was as spectacular as one would expect from a semifinal match at the Arcana.

It was so fast and powerful that the audience could only see the remnants of exploding aura and hear the deafening roars that shook their ears.

Cierion's level was publicly estimated to be 5-star.

However, the destructive power he was displaying now was that of a master 6-star knight, at the very least.

Antorius, who was holding his own against such a Cierion, was also displaying aura on a 6-star level.

The very fact that he could exchange blows with Cierion without being pushed back significantly was proof that his level was at least 6-star.

Two young men, on the verge of reaching the supreme state, were clashing head-on.

“Hahaha…. Ha….”

“They are monsters.”

“In any previous Arcana, they would have easily won.”

No matter how prestigious the Arcana was, it was fundamentally a competition to gauge the potential of young people.

In other words, it was a contest for the inexperienced who had not yet reached their prime.

However, the word ‘inexperienced’ did not fit the swords of Cierion and Antorius at all.

They were at such a high level that they could be ranked as top-tier knights in any kingdom right now.

Every time their weapons clashed and their auras exploded, the audience was mesmerized by the sight.

This was clearly the highest-level duel in the history of the Arcana.

Kwaaaaang!

“Keuk….”

Cierion’s powerful attack.

Antorius blocked the attack with a shield concentrated with aura, but he was pushed back significantly.

Leaving a mark on the ground as if it had been scraped, Antorius, who was pushed back over three meters, frowned.

‘Am I being overpowered?’

No, it wasn't just power.

It hurt his pride, but he was also slightly behind in speed and skill, though subtly.

Especially skill.

It wasn't about the number of techniques or reading the opponent's moves, but about the application of those techniques.

Even when they crossed swords with the same purpose, the flow of the fight ultimately went as his opponent wished.

Yes. This was like….

“Do you get it now? The reason I call you a flower raised in a greenhouse?”

Antorius flinched at Cierion’s words.

He wanted to deny it and retort immediately.

But he couldn't help but admit it.

“Why is there such a difference?”

“The difference in experience.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How much of an age difference is there for you to talk about a difference in experience?”

Cierion smirked at Antorius' words.

With a disdainful smile, Cierion spoke.

“Kid, how many times in your life have you fought someone stronger than you?”

“…What?”

“Have you ever jumped into a horde of monsters more than ten times your number with only a few subordinates to save people surrounded by them?”

“……”

“Have you ever struggled to survive against assassins who come without a trace and use any means necessary?”

“……”

Looking into Cierion’s serious eyes, Antorius thought.

What is this man?

Isn't he the prince of a kingdom?

And he has been through all those terrible experiences?

When there’s not much of an age difference between us?

To the complex-faced Antorius, Cierion said.

“While you and the Sword Saint’s grandson were growing up safely in a glorious halo, we were tempered in real combat for survival.”

“……”

“And you’re upset about being pushed back by me? Huh? You precious Young Master of the Holy Theocracy.”

At Cierion’s mockery, Antorius gritted his teeth and spoke.

“Fine. Your mastery of the sword may be higher than mine.”

“A quick admission.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’re stronger than me.”

Seeing Antorius' determined expression, Cierion also put on a serious face and said.

“Are you finally getting serious?”

“I will show you the true power and dignity of the Holy Theocracy.”

Then, Antorius raised his right arm high and shouted.

“O Yupinel. Descend upon me. God Hand!”

Instantly, golden divine power concentrated in Antorius' right arm.

And then….

“O Yupinel!”

Antorius' right fist shot forward.

A golden fist, as large as a man's torso, flew towards Cierion.

Kwaaang!

The audience cheered at the sight of the spectacularly exploding giant fist.

“Ooh…. It’s a miracle (porténtum).”

“Is he finally getting serious?”

“Indeed, that’s how a paladin should be.”

Previously, he had only pushed back enemies with divine power.

But when truly using divine power in combat, the method was different.

The authority received from the goddess.

This supernatural ability, called a miracle because it brought about phenomena that transcended reason, was their true power.

“It's a bit similar to the Hundred Steps Divine Fist used by those baldies... but this is different. It's different.”

Patrick, who was watching the scene from the waiting room, said.

Then, Alex, who was next to him, spoke.

“Don’t tell me you can copy that too?”

“No, I can't.”

“Really?”

“Why? Did you think I could do everything?”

“……”

This bastard really thought so.

Patrick said, as if it was pathetic.

“If you just ask me to mimic the form, I can do it by consuming an insane amount of aura. But a technique without its true meaning is just a phantom.”

“…Huh?”

“Forget it. Just live your life like that.”

Patrick ignored Alex and looked back at the match.

‘Probably even the bald monks of Shaolin couldn't copy that, right?’

The demon-subduing martial arts used in Shaolin were ultimately just the result of human will born from the intent of Buddhist law.

Even if it had the power to destroy evil, it was created by humans.

Should I call it a technique of will and intent that has been systematized?

It was something that could be done because Bodhidharma, the first ancestor of Shaolin, was an unbelievably skilled master.

‘The baldies of Shaolin are just piggybacking on that and enjoying the fruits.’

But this was different.

The nature of the power felt was not of human will and intent.

He was borrowing the power of a much higher-dimensional being.

Not the will of a human, but the principle that constitutes and acts upon the world.

A power that should be called a law could be felt.

Seeing that, I couldn't help but admit it.

“Certainly, gods exist in this world.”

Then, his companions next to him looked at Patrick like he was a weirdo and said.

“Huh? Isn't that obvious?”

“Why are you suddenly talking nonsense?”

“Did you eat something bad?”

“Are you crazy… Ah, you were always like that.”

His companions, born in a world where the existence of gods was 100% certain and proven, did not understand Patrick's feelings.

The difference between Patrick, born in a world where the existence of gods was not tangible, and themselves.

‘Right. What would you guys know?’

Patrick focused on the match again.

He thought the match would end blandly, but now he didn't know what would happen.

Antorius' God Hand was powerful, but its attack range was too obvious.

Cierion dodged the attack and circled around Antorius.

Then, Antorius changed the miracle he was using.

“O Yupinel. Your servant prays. Grant me the holy flame to defeat the enemy before me!”

Hwarureureuk.

A white flame formed on Antorius' sword.

Holy Fire.

It was not a flame borrowing the power of elements wielded by mages, but a holy flame created by the power of a god.

“Receive the power of God!”

When Antorius swung his bastard sword horizontally, the holy flame spread out in a wide arc.

“Tsk.”

Seeing the wave of holy flame flying towards him, Cierion gritted his teeth.

The attack range was wide.

He couldn't avoid it.

If so….

“Haaaaaaa!”

Kwaaang!

A two-handed sword swung forward forcefully, with his front foot planted firmly.

The blue aura extending from his sword clashed with the wave of holy flame.

It seemed like an equal result, but there was a decisive difference.

“You seem to be struggling, Prince Cierion.”

“……”

Cierion did not reply to Antorius' words.

He had to save his words and regulate his breathing.

Antorius, cloaked in the holy flame on his sword, walked forward and said.

“Your skill and talent are astonishing. I admit that you are superior to me as a swordsman.”

“……”

“But I have the omnipotent goddess of harmony with me. How can I lose to a mere human when I have the infinite blessings and protection of a god?”

“……”

“You with your finite power, and I who borrow the infinite power of a god. It is obvious who will win between us.”

“……”

“If you understand that any further contest is meaningless, then sheath your sword and step back.”

Antorius' words made sense.

All the spectators agreed with Antorius' words.

“Well, if it has come this far….”

“As expected. There were no surprises.”

“The final will be a stage for the Empire versus the Holy Theocracy again.”

The ones who did not agree with the public opinion of the spectators were Prince Cierion and his party from the Yusef Kingdom.

Both professors and students were watching the arena, clenching their fists and gritting their teeth.

“Your Highness….”

As a pained sound came from someone's anxious lips, a professor shouted.

“Believe!”

“Professor Chaplin.”

“Antorius Denar of the Holy Theocracy is strong. He is undoubtedly a strong person beyond the rumors.”

It was an undeniable fact.

It was questionable whether there had ever been a paladin with such skill at that age in the history of the Holy Theocracy.

That was definitely an out-of-the-ordinary genius.

However….

“Still, believe. He will win.”

“Why do you think so?”

A student asked the professor, hoping for even a shred of evidence.

The answer that came back was….

“Because he is our king.”

The answer that came back was not based on evidence or logic.

Just faith.

It was an absolute and one-sided faith, like a child blindly believing and following their parents.

“He will win. Our king will win!”

“That’s right. There’s no way he can lose!”

“My king!”

“My liege!”

All the members of the Yusef Kingdom's party drew their swords and held them before their hearts.

In a one-on-one duel where they could not be together, all they could do was to put their faith in their king.

And that faith….

‘It has reached me enough.’

Cierion gritted his teeth.

He could feel it from the gazes on his back without looking back.

He could feel the faith of his companions who were shedding hot tears, believing in his victory.

‘Right. This is not the time to be struggling here.’

Pudeudeudeuk.

He gritted his teeth.

He gripped his sword tightly, even as he groaned in pain as if his bones were burning from the holy flame enveloping him.

This kind of pain was nothing.

Right now, at this very moment, his people were dying from the monsters pouring out of the Great Forest.

Someone’s father.

Someone’s son.

Someone’s husband.

The countless blood and tears shed just for being born in a weak country.

Didn't he resolve to change that?

Wasn't that why he stood up as a king?

To keep that vow, he could not fall here.

‘He’s holding on by force.’

Antorius thought as he watched Cierion forcibly enduring while engulfed in the Holy Fire.

There was no point in dragging this out any longer.

It was time to finish it.

“O Yupinel. Descend upon me. Burn your enemy!”

The brilliant and sacred flames grew even stronger.

Those powerful flames flew towards Cierion, who was already burning.

As if to burn everything without leaving a single ash.

‘So what about it?’

Cierion opened his mouth as he watched the pure white wave of flames flying towards him.

“O Yupinel….”

I am the king of those you have turned away from.

I am the sword that protects those you have not cared for.

If a being called God tries to stand in my way….

“I don’t need such a god.”

Cierion's heart stirred.

Not from the aura hole in his lower abdomen, but from the aura hole above it, a power that had been sealed until now flowed in.

A power twice as much and ten times more dangerous than the power he originally used.

At the same time….

“Ooooooh!”

A vivid Aura Blade erupted from his sword.

“Heok!”

Antorius saw it.

He saw the chillingly bright blue Aura Blade cutting through the power of the miracle he was emitting and flying towards him.

And that was the last sight he saw in the Arcana semifinals.

Silence.

A cold silence, as if cold water had been thrown, enveloped the arena.

Antorius was thrown out of the arena.

Cierion stood proudly, holding his greatsword in one hand.

The winner and loser were clearly decided.

But what was important now was not just the victory or defeat.

“Just now…. that thing just now?”

“No way.”

“No, but….”

“Aura Blade.”

Among the hesitating audience, someone uttered the word.

Then, others also began to stir, but they started to acknowledge what they had seen with their own eyes.

“It really was an Aura Blade, right?”

“It completely split the Holy Fire, didn't it? Isn't that proof?”

“My goodness, an Aura Blade at the Arcana.”

The audience stirred greatly.

“Winner, Cierion Baisus Yusef!”

And at that moment when the referee, who came to his senses a beat later, confirmed the victory….

“Waaaaaaaaaaah!”

“Crazy. This is crazy!”

“An Aura Blade? A 7-star?”

“Hahahaha…. The best. This is the best.”

The audience's cheers, close to frenzy, reached their peak the moment Cierion raised his sword high.

“Cierion! Cierion! Cierion!”

“Cierion! Cierion! Cierion!”

“Cierion! Cierion! Cierion!”

In the Magellan Kingdom, a clearly foreign country, cheers praising the name of the prince of the Yusef Kingdom echoed endlessly.

Nationality? Race?

Those were trivial matters.

One who captivated the public with innate charisma and overwhelming ability.

The world calls such a person a hero

Cierion Baisus Yusef.

Victory in the Arcana semifinals.

And it was the moment his legend began..

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