Chapter 35: The Holy Grail Knight (4)
Ian’s strike was the first time Isaac had witnessed advanced swordplay from another knight order.
Isaac was super curious about how the fancy sword moves he had picked up would stack up against those of other knight groups. Instead of jumping into an attack against Ian, he played it cool and focused on defense.
Swoosh, screech.
The sound of swords clashing flew past Isaac’s ears. He didn’t miss a beat, blocking every one of Ian’s strikes. As he held his ground, a hint of worry flickered in his eyes.
‘Is this what the Briant Knight Order calls advanced swordplay?’
Isaac was puzzled. It definitely didn’t measure up to Gebel’s style.
Even Isaac’s first-time moves lacked the sharpness and speed he was used to.
‘And something about it feels familiar…’
Gebel had always said that sword fighting boiled down to stabbing, slicing, and slashing repeatedly. Since all knights shared the same basics, similarities were bound to pop up.
But there was a twist.
Crack.
It hit Isaac as a faint tearing sound echoed from his sword.
Ian’s swordplay, though green, focused on one spot.
‘All those hits… on just one spot?’
While the Avalanche Knights aimed to survive tight spots and break free, the Briant Knights’ style was more about keeping foes in check until the end.
Although the advanced swordplay of different knight orders shared common elements, their individual goals gave them unique vibes.
Crack, snap!
When Isaac’s sword finally gave in, Ian smirked. Through dozens of exchanges, Isaac had studied the Briant Knights’ style closely.
Ian had zeroed in on a single crack on Isaac’s sword.
It was an unexpected move but one that fell in line with advanced swordplay.
‘Knights will be knights.’
Isaac respected the effort Ian had put in to reach this level and decided it was time to reveal his own skills.
‘I think I see where this is going.’
Having his sword broken wasn’t a hurdle for Isaac.
“Let’s finish this…”
Ian thought the duel was over when Isaac’s sword snapped, but Isaac had other plans. Unharmed and undeterred, the battle raged on.
In a flash, Isaac unleashed a flurry of attacks.
Thump, thump, thump! Crack, clang!
“What in the world?”
Despite his shortened reach due to the broken sword, Isaac still managed to break Ian’s sword after just three strikes.
Even then, Ian couldn’t wrap his head around the situation.
As Isaac kept the pressure on, Ian scrambled to match him move for move.
Clang, clang, clang, clang!
The sound, so monotonous it was almost strange, hammered into Ian’s awareness. It was only then that Ian realized what was going on. And everyone there gazed in astonishment at Isaac.
Isaac was utilizing the fancy swordplay of the Briant Knight Order.
And it was precisely Ian’s swordsmanship that Isaac had just mimicked.
The fact that Isaac’s sword was halfway busted added to its power. Yet, the way he effortlessly replicated it, no, even excelling with a blade no bigger than a dagger, showcased Isaac’s undeniable superiority.
Crack, clang!
Once more, Ian’s sword shattered. Now, Ian’s sword matched Isaac’s in length. But he lacked the confidence to match such feats or the will to continue the fight.
“Well, time to wrap this up,” Isaac thought.
Isaac decided to end it to spare Ian further embarrassment. Besides, his body was protesting the unfamiliar strain of the advanced swordsmanship. And deep down, Isaac felt a strange itch, a craving growing stronger with each clash.
‘Can I gain more by taking this guy down?’
The moment this odd thought crossed Isaac’s mind, he swiftly initiated the first move of Avalon swordsmanship.
Whoosh, boom.
As Isaac’s blade sliced through the air thrice, a storm of dust clouded the scene.
When the dust cleared, Ian sat disheartened amid the pale haze, while Isaac stood tall. Two knights from the Briant Order, who hesitated to approach, came into view.
Isaac, spotting them late, turned to Rotenhammer wearily.
“Ah… it’s been 30 seconds. Shouldn’t I have a new opponent by now?”
The knights glanced at Rotenhammer, uncertain.
They refrained from interfering due to the rules, sensing the genuine threat Isaac posed. His swordsmanship was that formidable.
However, they couldn’t step in.
The ferocious assault left everyone, even the active knights, in awe without a chance to act.
Finally, Rotenhammer spoke softly.
“Gebel.”
“Yes?”
“Are you suggesting I train… the embodiment of Saint Arte?”
Rotenhammer’s words carried a mix of emotions. Saint Arte was the founder of the knight order’s swordplay and the archangel of the Codex of Light. Associating Isaac with Saint Arte was the highest commendation.
But Gebel caught Rotenhammer’s subtle pause.
There had been another hailed as the embodiment of Saint Arte before Isaac.
“Calzen Miller.”
A sword genius, the epitome of the Codex of Light’s blade.
No one witnessing Isaac’s remarkable skill could avoid thinking of that name.
With a nod from Rotenhammer, the knights silently departed.
“You have triumphed, Isaac. Thieves and heretics better watch out for a while.”
***
Isaac made his way back to the barracks under the knights’ inquisitive stares.
One might expect anger or frustration after their knight’s defeat, yet all they displayed was curiosity. There was no scolding for Ian, clearly bested. Instead, they playfully tousled his hair.
‘Do they realize I showed them respect?’
Isaac’s prowess was evidently acknowledged. Few among them could challenge Isaac now.
—
And since it was kinda like a test of skill from the start, it was easier to shrug it off.
‘I mean, I totally wasted too much time trying to steal their sword skills.’
Isaac finally relaxed his fist to check on it. His palm was all messed up with blisters and cuts. Blood was dripping down, so he quickly wrapped his sleeve around it to stop the bleeding.
Isaac’s body still couldn’t handle all those fancy sword moves smoothly. The more he practiced, the more it strained his hands, muscles, and even bones.
‘Would it have been smarter to just be a priest instead of a knight?’
Yep, the Nephilim race was all about that priest life.
Isaac briefly flirted with the idea but tossed it aside.
Becoming a knight was a faster route to success through mad skills, but being a priest needed serious introspection and study. It made zero sense for Isaac, who couldn’t even use the miracles of the Codex of Light, to rock it as a priest.
‘To spare my body, I could stick with my own sword style, but… that’s way too rough.’
Isaac winced.
After checking out the Briant Order’s sword moves, he saw how each knight gang had their own spin coming from a common origin.
But “Isaac’s sword style” felt like pure fire and force to him. It had this savage, saw-like energy that could make others back up. He went with the Avalanche Knight Order’s sword method instead, which thankfully gave off a friendlier vibe.
‘But that craving back then…’
At the end of the showdown with Ian, Isaac felt this intense hunger and urge to chow down.
He wrapped up the fight using his advanced sword game, not because he was subconsciously hungry for Ian. He was fully aware of what he was doing.
But the real issue was even feeling that urge.
Sure, he enjoyed chowing down on Zihilrat and Heinkel Gulmar. Even after eating Heinckel, who could actually converse, he felt nothing, so Ian wouldn’t be much different.
The worry was what came next.
Isaac was afraid he wouldn’t feel a thing even after devouring Ian.
‘Have I gone full monster mode by acting this way?’
Isaac’s thoughts got all tangled up, but he pushed them aside. He wanted admiration and praise, not fear.
Isaac decided to ditch the topic for now.
Just then, he heard someone getting closer.
“Mr. Isaac, mind if I pop in?”
It was Isolde.
Isaac was curious why she showed up but welcomed her in.
“Inquisitor.”
“You can just call me Isolde.”
“…Miss Brant.”
Isaac was puzzled by her manner until he noticed the bandages and ointment she had brought. Taking Isaac’s hand, Isolde applied the ointment and wrapped it with a bandage she had prepared.
Even though the “Dead God’s Innards” perk would heal him fast, healing too quickly might raise eyebrows. Best to keep it hidden with bandages for a bit.
“You’re good with this stuff, huh? Bit weak though? I remember messing up my hand a lot when I first handled a sword.”
“No need for all this…”
“Just think of it as me paying back a tiny bit of what I owe.”
Isaac raised an eyebrow.
“Are you trying to settle your debt just by bandaging me up?”
Isolde shot him a look before sighing.
—
“Hey, want me to suggest something to even the odds?”
“What’s that?”
“How about I forget that Mr. Gebel is connected to the Avalanche Knight Order?”
Isaac gazed at Iseult for a moment. She was all focused on wrapping the bandage, not giving away any hints or showing off a smug smile.
“Just thought it was pretty obvious that Mr. Gebel wasn’t your average monk. A few hints pointed to you being a knight. So, why the secrecy? Noticed some habits that screamed desert expert and border pro. Desert skills usually mean crusade involvement. And hey, as an inquisitor, I know a thing or two about groups gone rogue. A knight order that went from crusaders to outcasts – bingo, Avalanche Knight Order.”
Iseult’s interrogation skills were no joke; the Avalanche swordsmanship remained a mystery, just as Gebel had claimed.
While Iseult laid out her deductions, she paused, taken aback by Isaac’s poker face.
“You really think I’d suspect my own savior?”
“Isn’t that your job as an inquisitor?”
“Well, I’m not about to hunt down a deserter.”
After a moment of silence, Iseult spoke up.
“I can actually help Mr. Gebel out. He’s a deserter from the Avalon Knight Order, a survivor. That story can paint him as someone who ditched his spot for his beliefs, not as a traitor.”
With the Avalance Knight Order wiped out and turned undead, Gebel, alive and well, wasn’t an apostate logically.
Isaac appreciated Iseult’s words, though he kept his cool.
On the flip side, Iseult cautiously watched Isaac’s reaction.
“This won’t directly help you, Isaac, but it’ll let Gebel live without fear. I just need to give it the ‘all clear’ signal.”
“Interesting…”
“Would settling this debt as an inquisitor work for you?”
This was one of the three favors Iseult had promised to fulfill.
Isaac agreed. He wasn’t going to push for repayment; having Iseult’s support in his pocket was more than enough.
‘Plus, if Gebel sheds the apostate tag, I can show off who taught me sword skills.’
Isaac’s reputation would rise.
He briefly pondered on getting a pass for the tentacles as well.
‘I’ve been hiding these tentacles for a while now; should I bring them up? They’re a bit strange, but other than snacking on live critters, they’re pretty handy and obedient…’
It was a whimsical thought.
He’d probably never bring it up in real life.
“Isaac.”
As Isaac daydreamed of an improbable future, Rottenhammer walked in.
Seemed like he had a lot of visitors lined up for the day.
