By Zephyria 
A chilling sensation ran through me as the sharp edge split my skin. The bright red liquid splattering on the floor from the recoil left no doubt that it was blood.
I examined the cut on my palm closely before it could heal. Considering how long the swipe was, the wound was surprisingly short. And it wasn’t as deep as the amount of blood suggested.
I had suspected as much when I heard the swords clash, but it seemed only a part of the blade was sharpened. No wonder he seemed so unskilled when trying to cut my clothes with a wooden sword; it wasn’t his own power.
Just then, I heard a very faint cracking sound near my ear. It was so subtle that I could have dismissed it as a hallucination. I wanted to identify the source of the sound, but now wasn’t the time.
I clenched my already healing hand into a fist, deliberately squeezing out more blood. Red droplets gathered between my fingers before falling to the floor.
I slowly raised my head and met Harold’s eyes, his pupils shaking. He smirked as soon as he saw me.
“So, you were beating that wooden doll so hard that you got a cut on your palm.”
I wondered what kind of excuse he would come up with, but this was beyond my imagination. I couldn’t tell if he was just thick-skinned or mentally deficient. Or maybe both.
Are the others in on it too? I expected as much, but no one seemed to find this situation strange. Only the young physician was glancing around nervously, his eyes darting back and forth.
“How did someone as unskilled as you become a King’s guard? Unless you performed some great feat, it’s hard to understand.”
The wound had already healed completely, and I couldn’t even feel any pain anymore. The cut wasn’t as deep as I thought, so I didn’t lose much blood. Still, I tucked the wooden sword under my arm and tore off a piece of my clothes to wrap around my hand.
“You insult me again.”
Harold was as indignant as if I had insulted his parents. Strictly speaking, I wasn’t insulting him but stating facts, so it was strange to see him get so genuinely angry.
“Then what does that make you, getting your blood drawn by someone as unskilled as me? Is that the average in the Empire?”
Ah, that bastard is doing it again…
I could ignore everything else, but it was hard to listen to such a worm utter the word Actan.
“…”
Come to think of it, something was off. Not just Harold, but all the surrounding trash… I thought they were hostile towards me, but maybe that wasn’t the case. It was strange to hate someone I had just met so much.
Could it be that they don’t hate me, but they just hate Actan?
Whether they hated me or Actan wasn’t the important issue. I raised the wooden sword, which was on the verge of breaking, and stared at it intently.
“The rules are different, and it’s not a wooden sword, so this can no longer be considered a duel.”
Harold scoffed, not even bothering to hide it.
“Don’t you think that the fact that you’re still standing is only because this was supposed to be a duel?”
“You’re too good with your tongue for a knight. Did you spend all your time practicing nonsense instead of training? Did you earn your title with your mouth instead of some great feat?”
I was just trying to tease him, but it sounded plausible. Harold’s face turned red with anger again at my words. I could hear him grinding his teeth.
“It seems you’ve heard stories about me, but don’t be reckless if you don’t want to die.”
“Stories about you? What stories? Like how you switch masters like a bat?”
He pretended to be fine, but this issue was clearly a thorn in his side. Harold charged at me with the intent to kill. The killing intent was so strong that I knew he was trying to kill me even before his sword reached me.
I sighed inwardly and readjusted my grip on the sword. I was so proud that I could cry. And for good reason, because I had been running my mouth all this time for this very moment. Otherwise, there was no reason to exchange so many words with such a human trash, vermin, child abuser.
Even for me, killing a King’s guard in a foreign country was a delicate matter. But if the other party showed killing intent towards me first, then things were different.
At first, I didn’t really intend to kill him, but looking at him now, I felt like I would feel better if I just twisted his neck.
Since I wanted to avoid clashing swords as much as possible, I kicked up the debris of the wooden dummy scattered on the floor and struck it with my wooden sword. The rapidly flying debris surged towards Harold.
“What the hell…”
Surprised by the bizarre action, Harold couldn’t hide his bewilderment even in his anger. He easily knocked away the flying debris with his sword.
“Anyone want to lend me a sword?”
I desperately asked for help, but no one responded to my words.
“If you apologize now, I won’t kill you.”
Ignoring his nonsense, I crossed swords with him a few times. The wooden sword vibrated precariously with each cracking sound.
Actually, it wasn’t like I didn’t have any weapons to attack with. I could use magic or summon a sword. But I didn’t feel like doing either. Why? Was it because it would end too quickly? Even if it meant getting hurt a little, I still preferred the feeling of beating someone up myself.
Mahir had scolded me several times for acting like an uneducated thug, but it didn’t matter since no one was watching anyway.
As soon as I made up my mind, I swung my sword forcefully. The tip of the sword broke off the moment it collided with his, spinning and flying into the air. I gripped the shortened wooden sword vertically, blocking and dodging the incoming attacks, but I still took a few hits on my forearm.
I didn’t notice when I was being careful, but after focusing and taking a few hits, I roughly understood his attack pattern. Unusually, Harold would always lightly leap in place once a certain distance was created, then lunge forward with his left foot.
Sure enough, I deliberately staggered back a few steps, and he leaped forward and lunged with his left foot as if he had been waiting for it. I didn’t dodge but instead charged in. The moment the tip of his sword pierced my right shoulder, I twisted my body and slammed my left elbow into his jaw.
With a cracking sound, Harold lost his balance. Before I could feel the pain, I struck his cheekbone twice in a row with the back of the sword’s handle.
In the meantime, Harold struck my thigh with his sword, inflicting a wound. It wasn’t that he was aiming for my leg, but he was panicking and swinging wildly.
My pants were torn a bit, but the attack was shallow and not fatal. Harold couldn’t even open his eyes properly, probably because of the repeated impacts to his face. His brain was rattled, and he was doing his best to avoid falling as he stumbled backward.
I deliberately led him towards the debris of the wooden dummy, continuing to pressure him. Harold desperately held on for a few seconds, barely regaining his vision, but it was already too late.
Not missing the moment he stumbled over the debris, I stepped on his ankle and crushed it.
“Guh!”
The scream caught in his throat couldn’t escape properly. I kicked Harold’s dropped sword far away, then plunged the broken wooden sword into his thigh.
“Aaaagh!”
Unlike before, this time the sound burst out clearly. At this point, the result was obvious, but we weren’t in a duel right now.
While I was catching my breath, Harold, who had turned over, reached out towards the trash. I could vaguely see some people shouting and running towards us from a short distance away.
But I couldn’t hear their voices. Only Harold’s panting groans were clear in my ears.
I stepped on his writhing back to hold him down and grabbed both of his forearms, pulling them back forcefully. The sound of flesh and muscle tearing and bones dislocating echoed. Following that, a scream filled with blood and foam loudly assaulted my eardrums.
I was going to kill him like this, but I belatedly came to my senses. It wasn’t that I thought I shouldn’t kill Harold, but because of an unexpected person who suddenly appeared.
“Tarik?”
Out of nowhere, Tarik had drawn his sword and was standing in front of me. Or rather, not towards me, but with his back to me. He warned the trash running towards us with his sword.
“Stop.”
Something that had been disconnected in my brain quickly reconnected, and I snapped back to my senses. I stared blankly at Tarik’s broad back, then felt a chill run down my spine.
With all the hairs on my body standing on end, I turned my head towards the source of the intense gaze.
“…”
Someone wearing a robe was standing upright in the corner of the training ground. I knew who it was at once without even seeing their face.