Chapter: 6
The gloomy mood has suddenly melted away.
Not only is it refreshing to face a new opponent after so long, but the impressive sight of the last exchange—what was it called again? Ah, the Sword Resonance—was unforgettable. Having properly taken down such an opponent is undeniably satisfying.
Someone might say I have a dirty and sinister personality, but—
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Lee Han humbly admits it.
He’s a bit more twisted and sinister than the others. It’s true.
But that doesn’t mean he finds joy in looking down on others.
It’s just a bit of thrill derived from smashing those annoying “strong” guys who flaunt their so-called might.
It’s quite a rewarding moment, really.
“I wasn’t always like this, you know.”
Lee Han didn’t have a penchant for fighting originally, but after reincarnating in this Medieval Fantasy World and living for 30 years—not just living, but witnessing every dirty aspect of life—he couldn’t help but change.
On top of that, he spent the last three years constantly getting thrashed by that veteran master!
Honestly, it’s impossible not to have a craving for victory.
“Did I go a bit too far?”
“Oh, no! Thank you for taking it easy on me.”
“I held back a bit. If I hadn’t, you might as well have ended up as a corpse, ha ha.”
“…Haha.”
Even though he says this in a joking tone while playfully slapping his opponent’s shoulder, the listener can’t shake off the chill down their spine.
Yord, on the other hand—he bounced off the ground and slammed into the wall. Luckily, he only suffered minor bruises, thanks to his solid combat skills and Lee Han’s restraint.
“That was one incredible hit.”
Yord’s body is still shaking.
When he unleashed the Sword Resonance, he thought maybe, just maybe, he could land a hit in return. But that illusion was shattered as Lee Han deftly countered and…!
“I can’t remember.”
Yeah, he recalls the clash of blades, but everything beyond that is a blur.
He just remembers being thrown away, and his consciousness flickered out like a blown fuse.
But instinctively, his body knows that Lee Han’s strike was heavy and unbearably swift.
“Honestly, that guy could have sliced me in half instead of merely sending me flying.”
Lee Han, the senior, still looks completely unfazed and brimming with confidence.
Yord can’t deny it; deep inside, he acknowledges that his sword has been totally wrecked.
Except for the other users, he thought he could make everyone bend their knees to him…
“The world is vast.”
The young prodigy swordsman feels the bitter aftertaste of his first defeat.
After the duel between Lee Han and Yord, people flocked to Yord, overflowing with admiration, ready to shower him with questions about his lineage, faction, and master’s name.
My goodness, they had a million questions—just like eager freshmen in the army!
“…Though not in a good way.”
“Anyway, the military is everywhere, huh.”
“Don’t view it negatively. Lineage, faction, and the presence of a master are critical for the nobles.”
“Right, peasants without lineage or faction should scoot along, huh?”
“…That’s not exactly what I meant.”
“Just consider me a twisted guy; that’s all.”
“Right. Making a fuss just so others will bite.”
Jake shook his head.
He knows that these self-deprecating remarks are bait meant to lure people out of the woodwork.
Of course, everyone recognizes it as a trick and avoids getting snagged, preferring to steer clear.
While there might be some newbies who’d take the bait, none of the brave souls here would dare challenge him after witnessing his duel with Yord.
“Come on, you’ve loosened up a bit! So now, just ease up.”
“Honestly, it’s that very looseness that’s more irksome. Tch.”
“…Don’t look at it that way. I will absolutely not fight you.”
Jake subtly backs away, dodging the gaze of the savage-like individual.
One wrong move could leave him in a sorry state, so avoiding confrontation is the wisest course of action.
Refusing a challenge from a knight is generally seen as rude, but it should be approached with caution. Fighting a “mad beast” is a definite no-go.
“…If there are barbarians, would they be like that kind of guy?”
Barbarians, the ancient tribes living in deserts and jungles, known as born fighters who sharpen their skills and strength in the heat of battle.
They learn not through kind teachings, but through sheer brute force.
Yet, those barbarians, trained in such an archaic manner, were said to be stronger than any knight in the kingdom.
“No matter how you slice it, he seems quite similar.”
Here’s a guy who learned nothing from anyone, armed only with basic swordsmanship, battling others to hone his strength and skills in his unique way.
It’s undeniably a primitive method, yet none of the knights can eclipse him within the knight order.
He can’t be anything else but a barbarian.
“You’re a barbarian, Lee Han.”
“Is that an insult or a compliment?”
“Both.”
“…Not quite sure whether to feel happy or offended.”
Lee Han couldn’t bring himself to deny the implications of being called a barbarian.
Sadly.
“Indeed, you possess remarkable talent.”
“Yes, but how on earth is that even possible?”
“I wouldn’t dare to try.”
“…It just seems like raw power without any finesse.”
“That’s capable in its own right, no?”
As the comrades evaluated the spar between Lee Han and Yord, they looked at Lee Han with a mix of admiration and jealousy.
Though they were comrades, they were also competitors.
Among them, Lee Han, who stood out like a sore thumb, resembled a massive wall, making him an ideal target for public enemy number one.
…Though Lee Han himself had little interest in rivalry or advancement, he couldn’t escape the respect and envy burning in their eyes.
“Is it talent, then? Did they really perceive him that way?”
Lee Han smiled bitterly, seeing right through their thoughts.
Talent.
If only he possessed that.
Wouldn’t things have been so much easier?
Lee Han’s actual talent was just a smidge above average.
For context, if 300 students took a math test, and the average score was 60, Lee Han would hover around 70, just a hair above average.
It sounds pretty decent, but in reality, it’s not enough to qualify one as a knight.
A knight’s talent should not only be better than average but should ideally land them comfortably among the top 10 students, even when slacking.
You know those types who look like they’re slacking off yet manage to ace their exams? They’re either gifted or geniuses.
That’s why, not a single member of the knight order has ever escaped being called a prodigy.
Even those pompous nobles, with their influences, have had the right kind of education, cultivating the necessary skills befitting a knight.
But Lee Han?
Not even close.
As mentioned before, his talent is merely slightly above average.
Though unlike others, he possesses a unique trait, something labeled as a “specialty.”
Lacking the talent others boast, he possesses an unusual “ability.”
While he’s ignorant of martial techniques and can’t instantly become a master after a glance, the innate abilities of his body grant him an edge.
“Your body is fascinating. It has a unique aspect that compensates for your lack of talent. However, limits exist. Many individuals within the knight order possess profound skills beyond this kind of unique ability.”
The advice and veiled critique he received after getting beaten echoed in his mind.
So, filled with sarcasm, he asked, “Then what on earth should I do?”
“What’s that? Just enhance your body’s ‘ability’ a bit more. Figure out how to strengthen it on your own; after all, it’s your body, and you know it best.”
That’s correct.
Having been part of an assassination organization once, he learned how to enhance his own functions.
Breaking the limitations of the body.
Utilizing the principle of tearing muscles and breaking bones to forge a tougher and more resilient physique.
“That’s great, seems you’re onto something. Hmm, let me throw out one more piece of advice. Engage in battles with many others to gather experience—well, for you, it means accumulating information.”
He wasn’t looking at people like mere machines…
Still, that advice was undeniably useful, and it explained why Lee Han had been seeking fights with knights day in and day out for the past three years.
By following that advice, he instinctively learned how to gauge how to deal with various human opponents.
Even though he remained clueless about how to wield a sword, he developed an innate ability to judge how to move his body.
Even if his mind forgets, his body remembers.
“What a funny situation.”
Am I really not human, but more of a machine?
Of course, he isn’t genuinely a machine.
He sweated and worked hard, and that’s truthful.
It’s just apparent that he was sweating in a different direction than everyone else.
“Getting stronger is what matters, right?”
He wasn’t particularly craving the path of martial arts.
If one were to classify him, it would align with what Jake said.
“The mindset of a barbaric warrior fits well.”
Just win and call it a day.
Growth and enlightenment remain beyond what he knows, seem as unattainable as a distant dream.
And he reflected on this.
“It’s not so bad, really.”
He thought it felt quite alright.
At least he wouldn’t have to run around getting thrashed.
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