IYAMD: Episode 64

Joshua wrapped one arm around his shoulder. It seemed his arm had gone numb from the inner energy-infused attack. After kneading his shoulder a couple of times, he picked up his sword and straightened it before him.

“I’ve received valuable instruction, Sir.”

Jaha responded by offering a slight bow in a fist-and-palm salute. Just like Ian earlier, Joshua retreated, unable to completely erase the competitive gleam in his eyes.

As jeers came from the onlookers, Joshua swung his sword and cursed at the knights.

“You bastards!”

Jaha smirked and waited for the next knight to step forward. However, an unexpected voice interrupted from the side.

“You’re doing something rather interesting.”

Marsilia had approached while conversing with General Des, apparently drawn in by the sparring.

Then, at the same time, two completely different remarks came from Marsilia and General Des.

“Why don’t you spar with me as well—”

“You lunatics! Have you lost your minds? Do you even know where we are right now to be playing at duels—?!”

Both Marsilia and General Des spoke at once, but the general was a beat slower in closing his mouth. Their gazes met awkwardly.

“My apologies for losing my mind.”

At the emperor’s sarcastic apology, General Des’s tanned face noticeably paled. Jaha glanced at Marsilia with a troubled expression.

“There are quite a few people still waiting…”

He swallowed the question of whether he could wait, but the knights answered for him.

“We can go later!”

“A duel between His Majesty and Sir Dandelion!”

“Hey, you lot, back up! Make some space, now!”

Amid the raucous excitement, the knights moved with surprising coordination. The circle surrounding Jaha instantly doubled in size.

Even so, the knights exchanged uneasy glances and whispered among themselves.

“If we’re not careful, we might get hit by stray Aura and die.”

“Oh, come on. They’ll control it… right?”

“Should we back up a little more?”

The larger knights who had been sitting on the ground began shuffling backward, dragging their heavy bodies away.

Once they had put a considerable distance between themselves and the duel, they started cheering—each for their respective side.

“Sir Dandelion, show us that flying sword technique!”

“Your Majesty, please uphold the honor of Western Continent swordsmanship!”

“You’ll be using Aura, right?”

Marsilia let out a small chuckle as he stepped into the circle. He slowly scanned the seated knights, then clenched his jaw.

“You should all be ashamed of yourselves.”

Someone from the group shouted back.

“Well, it’s embarrassing if Your Majesty loses since you’re a Swordmaster, but we’re fine!”

The tactless knight was immediately put in a headlock by the one beside him, drawing laughter from Jaha before he could stop himself.

“Haha.”

They were an amusing group. It was clear how comfortable Marsilia was with them and how much they respected him in return.

Jaha turned to Marsilia with a smile, but his expression stiffened.

Marsilia had been staring blankly at him, but when he noticed Jaha’s reaction, his eyes narrowed.

“You have a knack for surprising me.”

Marsilia drew his sword with sharp, disciplined precision, holding it upright before his chest like the very model of a knight.

“Next time, smile at me like that again.”

The response to his words came from behind him.

“Ugh….”

“Oh no.”

The knights recoiled in horror, their voices filled with dread.

Jaha’s eyes curved slightly. For some reason, the good mood lingered, and he found himself smiling again.

He drew his sword, watching as Marsilia slashed diagonally through the air before him. Lowering his stance, Jaha extended his sword forward.

Marsilia cracked his neck side to side and smirked, taunting him.

“Come at me first.”

He let his sword hang lazily at his side and beckoned with his fingers—insufferably arrogant.

Jaha watched him with a calm gaze before launching himself forward. With a single leap, he closed the distance, drawing on his inner energy. A faint, hazy aura formed along his blade.

Marsilia deflected Jaha’s strike, which had been aimed at his lower abdomen.

Clang!

A crisp metallic sound rang out as a light green Aura flared along Marsilia’s sword.

Jaha absorbed the force of the clash and twisted midair. In that brief moment, Marsilia thrust his sword toward Jaha’s body.

They exchanged three or four blows while Jaha was still floating in the air.

Marsilia’s sword was far faster and heavier than those of the knights before him. Jaha increased his inner energy to over fifty percent.

Each time their swords clashed, Jaha’s time in the air lengthened.

Using the rebound force from Marsilia’s strikes, he pushed himself higher, making Marsilia’s eyes narrow in interest.

“You’re so light. If you’re not careful, you might just float away.”

As Marsilia’s sword briefly paused, Jaha landed softly on the ground. His movement was so weightless that it barely disturbed the earth beneath him. His long hair settled gently against his back as he flicked his sword downward.

The vibrations from their Aura-clad swords clashing still hummed through the blade.

As Jaha infused more inner energy, his sword let out a deep, resonating hum.

Wooooong.

The once-faint sword aura darkened, growing more pronounced.

Seeing this, Marsilia finally lowered his stance and gripped his sword with both hands.

Stepping forward, he slashed in a wide arc, sending strikes in all directions.

Even with inner energy reinforcing his body, Jaha felt the sting in his wrists.

Forced back by Marsilia’s relentless assault, Jaha adjusted his footwork, blocking each incoming strike.

Amidst the ceaseless exchange of blows, he caught sight of Marsilia’s smile.

At that moment, something flared up in his chest. Jaha instantly recognized the name of that flame.

Fighting spirit. A fierce determination to defeat that arrogant and insolent man surged within him.

When Marsilia made a wide slash with his sword, Jaha deflected it with the flat of his blade and leaped back to create distance. He took a slow, deep breath, calming himself.

Thump, thump. The sound of his own heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears. As he exhaled in a long breath, the noise gradually subsided.

From a short distance away, Marsilia silently observed Jaha. As if he had glimpsed into Jaha’s mind, his eyes curved slightly in amusement.

Jaha lunged forward with large strides, mixing in feints. Marsilia, blocking the wild flurry of attacks, thrust his sword deeply in a final strike. Jaha dodged by tilting his head.

Woong!

With the sharp cry of the sword, a few strands of Marsilia’s golden hair were severed and fluttered through the air. Jaha didn’t stop there—he swung his sword in a wide arc while extending his free hand forward.

Marsilia blocked the palm strike aimed directly at his chest.

Boom!

With a loud impact, he was pushed back several steps. In that instant, Jaha suddenly snapped back to his senses, realizing in shock that he had just used a martial arts technique against someone without inner energy.

His eyes widened, but then he noticed the green aura enveloping Marsilia’s forearms and let out a small sigh of relief.

Realizing he had unknowingly lost himself in the heat of battle, Jaha lowered his sword and approached Marsilia.

“Are you alright?”

The ground bore the long imprint of Marsilia’s feet where he had been pushed back in his stance. Jaha’s expression turned sheepish.

Marsilia remained still for a moment, arms still raised to shield his face and chest, before finally uncrossing them. His furrowed brows showed a trace of pain, making Jaha hesitantly ask,

“Are you hurt?”

Marsilia let his arms hang loosely at his sides and gave Jaha an incredulous look.

“I’ve never met someone as terrifying as you.”

For someone who had nearly died, he sure had a roundabout way of saying it.

Grimacing, he grumbled, “I can’t feel my arms.”

Yet despite his words, he was still holding onto his sword. He didn’t seem as bad off as he claimed, but Jaha decided against pointing that out, seeing his sour expression.

Watching the exchange, General Des took the initiative to disperse the knights.

“Alright, everyone, time for dinner.”

Jaha glanced up at the man beside him, who scoffed and snorted in amusement.

“Let’s do this again. Until I win.”

“You’ll end up spending your whole life sparring, then.”

“Hah! I only lost because I let my guard down this time.”

Muttering complaints, Marsilia walked with Jaha toward the prepared tent.

“My hands are numb, so you’ll have to feed me.”

Taking advantage of the moment, he shamelessly made an outrageous demand. Jaha shot back flatly,

“You’re still holding your sword just fine.”

When Jaha grumbled, Marsilia chuckled, shaking his shoulders.

“I’m only forcing myself to hold it because it’d be embarrassing to drop it.”

The ridiculousness of that statement became evident soon enough. The moment they arrived at the tent, Marsilia effortlessly lifted the entrance flap with one arm and strode inside.

Jaha stopped in his tracks, staring at him in disbelief. Marsilia turned back with a smirk, eyes narrowing.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

Jaha glared at him before stepping inside.

“Feed yourself.”

From what he could see, Marsilia was nowhere near as injured as he had claimed. The brief concern Jaha had felt now seemed utterly wasted.

Lowering the flap behind him, Marsilia casually drove his sword into the ground and rolled his shoulders, rotating his arms experimentally before finally groaning in exaggerated pain.

“If I hadn’t used Aura, I’d be dead.”

That was true. If Marsilia hadn’t been able to wield Aura, Jaha’s technique would have ruptured his internal organs, killing him instantly.

“It wasn’t intentional.”

Jaha sat down cross-legged on the ground, and Marsilia plopped down beside him.

“I know. The problem is, intentional or not, I nearly died.”

Jaha stared at the man who was now nitpicking over details, pressing his lips together.

He wasn’t wrong.

But somehow, hearing it from Marsilia’s mouth made it sound annoyingly smug and insufferable.