Chapter 30: Preparation (5)

Geom-Ma drew a small sword. Siegfried responded, raising his own blade.

The students around me were poised to mock me at any moment, their youthful faces marked by the slyness typical of adolescence.

While my fight against Nox in the examination had been impressive, many downplayed my skill and instead dismissed my opponent, thinking I was just another student who had managed to shine by mere luck.

In their minds, ideals of superiority ran deep, blocking them from accepting my strength.

They thought there had to be some trick to my success and assumed that today, my lack of ability would finally be revealed.

Siegfried’s choice to select me as his opponent only added to their confusion. Why was he giving me this opportunity? They couldn’t understand what he saw in me to pay such close attention, and envy bubbled up within them like a bitter poison.

The cadets with scowling faces whispered among themselves, fantasizing that Siegfried would give me a lesson that would make me wet myself in fear.

In their naive, spiteful minds, they hoped I’d crumble under humiliation.

They waited for the match with eager eyes.

But rather than succumbing to their assumptions and my own fears, I met Siegfried’s challenge with confidence.

I drew the small sword, adjusted my grip as if warming up, my composure throwing them off.

Even though this was only a sparring match, my opponent was none other than the Sword Master, a hero of the Seven Stars. Under ordinary circumstances, bowing and showing respect would have been appropriate. But I stood completely calm.

Whistle!

The shrill sound of the whistle marked the start of the duel, and every gaze sharpened.

“…”

An oppressive silence settled over the training field, followed by the rising murmur of the students that became a steady hum in the background.

The expressions of the students were mixed, each reflecting unspoken questions in their eyes.

What was going on?

Siegfried and I stood face to face, swords raised, motionless like statues, as though our feet were rooted to the ground.

Only the cold gleam of the blades glinted in the sunlight.

A faint breeze swept over the training field, brushing our cheeks like a sharp gust.

Although neither Siegfried nor I moved, the spectators felt their hairs stand on end, shivers running down their spines.

It was as if they could hear the clash of swords, even though they knew no blows had been exchanged.

The tension was so thick that no one dared to speak, and beads of sweat began forming on everyone’s foreheads.

After a while, no cadet dared to open their mouth.

Even Instructor Lee Won-Bin, sweat trickling down his brow, darted his gaze between us, noticing that neither of us so much as blinked.

Although seconds had passed since the start, neither Siegfried nor I made the first move.

We were both acutely aware of each other’s vital points and were waiting, patiently.

When experienced warriors face off, victory or defeat is decided in the battle of minds.

We observed one another, searching for the smallest opening. Sometimes, even a single blink can mean losing your head.

As our standoff prolonged, the mental struggle took on an almost tangible quality.

Both the students and Lee Won-Bin himself were witnessing something extraordinary.

While they couldn’t perceive every subtle movement, the atmosphere and the hum of steel filled them with a strange mixture of anxiety and fascination.

A bead of sweat fell from Lee Won-Bin’s chin.

As he looked at Kang Geom-Ma, the surprise on his face turned to awe. In his ten years as an instructor, he had seen and trained excellent talents, firmly convinced that he was teaching at the world’s most elite academy, which drew top students from around the globe.

This year, in fact, there had been talk of a golden generation, the best since the era of the Seven Star Heroes, and as an educator, he felt tremendous pride.

However, the arrival of Kang Geom-Ma had shattered Lee Won-Bin’s expectations entirely.

It was as if Kang Geom-Ma mocked conventional standards, shocking everyone each time he took up a weapon.

And now, at barely seventeen, Kang Geom-Ma was sharing the experience of mental combat with none other than Siegfried, the Sword Master.

His talent was undeniable, leaving everyone speechless.

Even among the so-called golden generation, his peers seemed like mere stones on a beach in comparison.

‘…I never imagined he’d be this extraordinary.’

Even amid this invisible combat, Lee Won-bin’s chest felt tight, his heart pounding as something profound seemed to stir his spirit.

His mind went blank. What was unfolding before him went far beyond ordinary understanding. In that instant, the pressure in the air thickened even further.

Whoosh!

Suddenly, a blue energy burst forth like an expanding ocean.

The energy gathered in Siegfried’s sword took form, wrapping around it like a shroud.

This was why Siegfried von Nibelung was known as the strongest of humanity: the blue aura that only supreme swordsmen could wield, known simply as “Aura.”

This power was achieved through a combination of innate talent and years of dedication, transcending into a realm akin to magic.

Lee Won-bin felt a mix of awe and terror engulfing him. Siegfried’s simple iron sword began to disintegrate, breaking down from the handle as it struggled to withstand the energy.

Several students, including Lee Won-bin, swallowed dryly, their lips parched. The heat rising from the field seemed to drain the moisture from the air, causing some to blink in astonishment while others found their throats so dry they could barely swallow.

Only Kang Geom-Ma, his gaze steady, stood unwavering, facing the Sword Master. He crouched, gathering energy within himself, prepared for combat. This time, it wasn’t just an illusion; it was real.

A cold sweat ran down Lee Won-bin’s back, soaking his shirt until his collar and shoulders felt sticky.

“Master Siegfried!”

Lee Won-bin’s deep voice called out to the Sword Master. He had to stop them, or one of them would die. A warning resonated inside him like thunder.

But despite his shouts, Siegfried didn’t turn his head.

Instead, he smiled, showing his teeth. His gaze, fixed on Kang Geom-Ma, was unwavering.

His eyes, bright as amber, held a childlike purity.

As the aura’s intensity grew, thick veins began to bulge on Kang Geom-Ma’s forearm.

Both had entered a different plane. No matter how much he shouted, their voices wouldn’t reach their ears.

Lee Won-bin knew he had to move closer to stop them, but his trembling legs wouldn’t respond.

His own helplessness humiliated him. With hesitant steps, he began to approach.

Crunch.

Kang Geom-Ma leaned forward in an unusual stance, one leg stretched forward while the other extended fully behind. The fierce light in his eyes burned intensely.

Siegfried, calmly dragging the tip of his sword across the ground, mirrored Kang Geom-Ma’s stance, despite the disintegrating grip on his sword.

Lee Won-bin’s face turned pale. Just as Kang Geom-Ma and Siegfried were about to unleash their full strength—

“Hey, you f*cking id*ot!”

The angry voice of a woman rang out powerfully. My eyes looked up to the sky, and it was terrifying. The academy’s headmistress, Media, was floating in the sky, her black cloak billowing.

In an instant, her flowing cloak plummeted to the ground like a swift current.

It was the wise Media. Her face flushed with anger, she advanced toward the Sword Master.

She strode up to him, grabbed him by the collar, and berated him. The sound of the metal ball on Siegfried’s whistle echoed.

“You old fool! Have you lost your mind? What do you think you’re doing, going up against a student?”

Siegfried seemed to snap back to reality and shook his head. Media glared at him coldly.

“Are you out of your senses? If you’ve gone senile, stay home and rest. We gave you this position because you wanted to stay at the academy, and now you’re unleashing your aura in front of a student? Have you lost it? Do you have a death wish!?”

Media shook him, and Siegfried’s head wobbled back and forth. Grimacing, the Sword Master avoided looking directly at her.

“It wasn’t my intention.”

“Nonsense!”

Siegfried wanted to respond but held back. He knew it was his fault. He hadn’t intended to unleash the Blessing of the Sword Spirit, but absorbed in the thrill of combat, he had let the aura take over.

With a rigid expression, Siegfried glanced at Kang Geom-Ma. Media had shaken him so hard that Geom-Ma’s figure appeared as a blurred outline.

At some point, Kang Geom-Ma had already sheathed his sword.

His calm demeanor made it hard to believe he was the same person who had just been locked in a fierce mental battle.

Siegfried rubbed his neck, lost in thought. The burning sensation in his neck was strange.

He could still feel the trace of Geom-Ma’s blade against his neck.

They had both fought with everything they had, clashing with their full strength. Just as the fight was about to be decided, Media’s shout had brought them back.

“Hey! Are you even listening, you stubborn old man?”

“Media, I apologize.”

“Huh…?!”

Siegfried bowed his head in apology under Media’s fierce gaze. Her anger, which had reached its peak, suddenly dissipated. This reaction was unexpected.

In over fifty years, Siegfried had never apologized.

With his unyielding pride, he had always been the epitome of the stubborn old man, certain he was always right.

Media’s expression shifted to concern, sensing how strange this moment was.

“…Siegfried, have you actually gone senile?”

“Media! Do you have no filter in front of the students?”

“Pfft.”

An unexpected sound escaped from one of the cadets. Instinctively, Siegfried and the headmistress turned to look at the cadets. The student with piercings covered his mouth, glancing nervously around.

Siegfried looked at him briefly before sighing and releasing the delicate hand that had held him. Media let go without resistance.

“There’s still something left to settle. Let’s continue this conversation later.”

Adjusting his uniform, Siegfried walked toward Kang Geom-Ma.

Step, step.

His steps were heavy, as if he were approaching an old friend. Finally, Siegfried stopped in front of Kang Geom-Ma.

The atmosphere grew tense. Siegfried calmly extended his hand for a handshake.

“Siegfried von Nibelung. Today, I’ve learned something.”

The smiles of an elder and a young man met in the air.

“Kang Geom-Ma. I’ve learned a lot, too.”

A smile appeared on both their faces.