IYAMD: Episode 63

“Five people in order, if that’s the case.”

At Jaha’s response, the knights erupted in cheers. A makeshift sparring ground suddenly formed next to the tent’s clearing. The walls of the training ground? Naturally, they were the knights themselves.

“Ah, go by rank, by rank. What? You greenhorns think you can ignore your seniors and step up first?”

“Captain, if the blood on your head dries, you die, you know?”

“Keh! You brats are getting too full of yourselves. Alright, if anyone wants to step up, try beating me first, huh?”

“Um… I was the one who first requested the sparring…”

At Ian’s quiet voice from the corner, all the knights’ gazes turned to him at once.

“Wow, this one’s got no discipline. You think just because we’re out on a subjugation, we’re equals now? Should we send your whole batch on a little punishment run?”

A few of the higher ranked knights started arguing over who would go first, eager to take on the challenge. Watching them, Jaha sighed quietly.

“Ian first. One at a time.”

Why were they fighting amongst themselves instead of just letting the one who spoke go first? Jaha’s martial arts lineage was strictly between master and disciple, without any structured sect hierarchy. So he didn’t understand these senior-junior power struggles at all.

Noticing Jaha’s cold expression, the knights hurriedly pushed Ian forward.

“Do well, alright?”

“If you disgrace the Black Knights, don’t bother coming back.”

The knights spectating snickered at their threats.

“Come on, both Ian and the captain—neither of them can even hold a candle to Sir Dandelion.”

At someone’s jeer, the captain turned red with rage and flared up.

“What did you just say, punk? Who the hell just ran their mouth?”

Jaha, growing irritated, frowned at the gathered knights.

“Just the ones standing here. Sort out the order yourselves.”

At his words, the knights’ expressions brightened. They lined up in an orderly fashion and placed their fists over their chests, bowing toward Jaha.

“Thank you, sir!”

A moment ago, they had been acting like a bunch of bandits, yet now they looked so disciplined. Well, at least the situation had sorted itself out. Jaha distanced himself from Ian Yandel and faced him.

Ian raised his sword to his chest and declared boldly,

“Ian Yandel, seeking the teachings of Sir Dandelion!”

Since Jaha didn’t know their etiquette, he responded with the Eastern continent’s custom. He clasped his fist and palm together in a traditional salute, bowing his head slightly.

Ian took a deep breath, steadying himself. Jaha shifted one leg back, lowering his stance, and held his sword diagonally forward.

Ian was the first to move. Raising his sword high, he closed the distance swiftly.

The swords of the Western continent were thicker and heavier compared to those of the East. Naturally, that meant they were slower to swing. However, Ian, being from the emperor’s knights, was considerably faster than the mercenaries Jaha had seen from the Western continent. His speed came from his well-trained shoulders and arm muscles.

But to Jaha’s eyes, even that movement was honestly slow.

Twisting his upper body slightly, Jaha dodged the blade and casually tapped the side of Ian’s sword with his bare hand.

Clang! A heavy metallic sound rang out as Ian’s sword wavered slightly.

He quickly corrected his stance and swung his sword horizontally. Jaha leaned back, letting the blade slide past, deflecting it with his own sword.

The same pattern repeated a few times, yet Jaha hadn’t moved a single step from where he stood. He simply deflected or diverted Ian’s sword while remaining stationary.

The watching knights began to jeer.

“Whooo! You call that skill, Yandel?”

“Hey, you bastard, looks like you need to relearn basic swordsmanship!”

Ian paid no attention to the taunts. He was focused entirely on Jaha, breathing deeply as he stepped back to regain his composure.

Hoo…

He exhaled so deeply that his cheeks hollowed slightly. Then, stomping forward, he brought his sword down in a powerful overhead slash.

A strike aimed at the crown of the head—given his size, it was a crushing blow. If Jaha had simply raised his sword to block, it might have been split in two on the spot.

Jaha deflected the attack by angling his sword, shifting his weight backward while lowering his stance further. He countered with a wide slash toward Ian’s thigh, forcing Ian to twist his wrist hastily to block it.

Jaha smoothly transitioned into a series of fundamental sword techniques—high thrusts, overhead slashes, downward cuts.

At first, the exchange was controlled and fluid. But gradually, the pace increased.

Ian, who had been blocking comfortably at first, began to pale as the tempo quickened.

Jaha’s sword style was “Swift Sword”—a technique that specialized in overwhelming the opponent with rapid attacks.

However, since his body wasn’t in perfect condition, he was supplementing his speed and strength with inner energy. He wrapped just enough of it around his sword so that it wouldn’t manifest as a visible sword aura.

Ian managed to keep up at first, parrying the strikes well. But as Jaha’s speed continued to increase, he started stepping back.

His movements grew unsteady, and eventually, his footwork faltered—he tripped and tumbled backward.

Falling onto his back, Ian stared up at Jaha in a daze. Despite the brief duel, his forehead was drenched in sweat.

Supporting himself on one hand, he asked,

“How do you swing your sword so fast?”

Jaha blinked at the question. How? Wasn’t it obvious? You just train until it happens.

Still, sensing there might be another meaning behind Ian’s words, he hesitated before answering,

“The sword… is light.”

“But it felt incredibly heavy when it struck…”

“That’s because I infused it with inner energy.”

Jaha decided it would be difficult to explain the concept of inner energy in the Western Continent’s language, so he closed his mouth.

Even without him calling for the next person, someone stepped forward as soon as Jaha returned to his place. It was the man who served as the captain of the 2nd squad of the Black Knights.

“Joshua Thornton.”

It was clear that experience and training made a difference—Joshua’s sword was sharper and heavier than Ian’s. Jaha, who had been using just enough inner energy to compensate for his weakened muscles, hesitated slightly for the first time.

The tip of Jaha’s sword wavered momentarily as he received Joshua’s strike. The man didn’t give him any time to breathe, continuously swinging his sword.

But the swordsmanship of the Western Continent felt too straightforward—unrefined, even. Compared to the countless feints and variations found in the Eastern Continent’s techniques, it wasn’t particularly difficult to defend against.

That said, just like Ian, Joshua heavily relied on strength. His strikes were even heavier than Ian’s, and after blocking his weighty sword a few times, Jaha’s arms were already tingling.

A sword swung with this much force wasn’t easy to deflect. If he made even a small mistake, the pressure could cause his own sword to injure him.

Jaha clicked his tongue softly. If only his body were in peak condition, he could have easily flowed around these attacks.

In the end, he had to draw on more inner energy than he had against Ian. Even so, he only used about 20 percent of his full power. Still, thanks to that, he was able to block the man’s relentless attacks with much more ease.

After exchanging dozens of strikes in rapid succession, Joshua frowned.

“How long are you going to just defend? It’s about time you started attacking.”

Jaha smiled quietly. Since Joshua was a squad captain, Jaha had humored him a little longer—but now the man had grown cocky. It was almost amusing.

Instead of answering, Jaha raised his sword. Holding it beside his head, he traced its edge with three fingers from his free hand. At the same time, he lowered his stance little by little before suddenly pushing off the ground, shooting forward like an arrow.

He added the force of his leap to his strike, thrusting his sword straight toward Joshua’s solar plexus. Joshua quickly raised his sword to block the attack, but before Jaha’s feet even touched the ground, he slashed again in a sweeping motion.

Joshua staggered as he barely managed to block the high slash. Jaha used the rebound from Joshua’s defense to twist his body midair. Before he landed, he unleashed three more consecutive techniques in rapid succession.

As Jaha’s sword grew faster, Joshua clenched his lips and desperately swung his sword to block the strikes.

Jaha aimed and slashed along the paths of Joshua’s movements. He didn’t even need to go all out. He merely danced through the air, swinging his sword gracefully and lightly stepping along the battlefield.

His tightly bound hair swayed with his movements, brushing against his back. The sound of steel against steel made Jaha’s heart race.

He was enjoying himself. Even if they weren’t opponents on his level, wielding a sword like this reminded him of the days he spent training alone with his master.

Memories of sweating in the deep valleys, far from home, resurfaced vividly.

He longed for those days—those childhood moments when he knew nothing of the world’s hardships.

“I knew it at a glance—that you were born with a murderous nature. Destiny means nothing, but at the very least, I wanted to teach you how to keep yourself alive. If fewer fools look down on you and pick fights, then you’ll have fewer reasons to kill.

Isn’t that right, my disciple?”

It was as if he could hear his master’s voice in his ears, telling him to always strike first if someone provoked him.

Jaha had been lost in thought for just a moment when Joshua’s sword let out a heavy whistle as it came slashing toward his neck. He stood still, remembering his master’s words, and only when the blade was nearly upon him did he flick his fingers against the side of Joshua’s sword.

Clang!

A loud metallic ring echoed through the air. Joshua’s sword slipped from his grip, and he stumbled back a few steps. The dropped blade trembled on the ground, humming with residual vibrations.

Wooooong.

Jaha had infused his inner energy into the attack, making Joshua’s sword quiver like a freshly caught fish.

Jaha gazed at the fallen weapon in silence before calmly sheathing his own sword.