The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth

Chapter 300: Proof (3)



Chapter 300: Proof (3)

Chapter 300: Proof (3)

“Gah...!”

Simon Coden spat out blood.

“Hah... Hahaha...”

Aidan Hamil clutched his chest and collapsed to the ground, seemingly releasing the breath he had been holding in.

“You...”

Simon Coden turned around and looked at him with trembling eyes.

Fwoosh...!!

With a wave of Karyl's hand, the torches lit up again, illuminating the scene.

The red marks covering Simon Coden’s forehead, stretching down to his cheeks and along his jaw like an intricate tattoo, were fading away.

Shadow Arts Stage 3 Awakening: Night Demon

In the brief moment of darkness, the two had exchanged blows at an extreme speed, and the other assassins of the Burning Darkness hadn’t dared to intervene in the fierce clash between them.

As the sigil of awakening vanished from his skin, Simon Coden realized that his final secret technique had been broken.

However, he was still in disbelief. He couldn’t accept that some assassin, a subordinate who should have been beneath him, had now surpassed him.

“...What was that?”

“I named it Shrinking the Earth. What sets me apart is speed. It’s nothing special, just a crude technique combining the Burning Darkness’ Stealth Walk with magic transformation.”

“So you invented it yourself.”

“That’s right.”

Simon Coden chuckled at his words.

“How long has it been since our Eastern Land was established?”

“Since the Magical Era, when the old empire existed, our nation has upheld its tradition as a single house without a single rebellion. In terms of history, it’s older than the current empire.”

“You know well.”

“Anyone from the Burning Darkness would,” Aidan said with a shrug.

“For over a thousand years since the Magical Era, the Burning Darkness’ stealth technique hasn’t advanced any further. Do you know why that is?”

“...”

“It’s because it didn’t need to. It was already perfect. Or rather, no one found a way to improve it,” Simon explained wearily. “But you... You surpassed the thousand years of foolish stagnation of the Eastern Land all on your own...”

Aidan looked at him calmly.

“I didn’t do it alone.”

“What?”

“I get it now. This was how things were meant to be.”

Simon Coden looked at Aidan as if he didn’t understand, but Aidan turned his gaze toward Karyl on the wyvern above.

“Isn’t that right?”

Aidan had always doubted his own abilities, having never had the chance to prove them before. His mind had always been telling him that he was the only one stuck in place.

Unlike Suan, who received help from the Martial Arts King Valvont, or Mikhail, who trained with the Immortal Council, or Serica, who learned from the Spear King, Aidan had no exceptional mentor. But ironically, that very anxiety had become the catalyst for his growth.

Karyl’s intuition had been spot on. One could learn how to wield a blade or cast spells from a mentor, but the art of killing—the way of the assassin—could only be mastered by oneself.

Aidan Hamil had maximized his inherent abilities and developed Shrinking the Earth, a technique that allowed him to cut down his enemies with extreme speed, without making a sound or leaving a trace.

“So the outcome was decided from the beginning.”

Simon Coden’s expression was one of resignation.

“With those eyes of yours, you might have grasped the essence of the Shadow Arts I used. What did you think?”

“...”

Aidan made no response.

Karyl observed this with a faint smile.

Looks like he’s figured it out.

It was a secret only Karyl knew, having already lived through one lifetime.

During the Oracle War, Karyl had not only exchanged swords with Simon Coden but had also fought alongside him. Ultimately, Karyl had discovered that the Shadow Arts, known to end at the third stage, actually had a final fourth stage—one that Simon Coden had never mastered.

That was one of the reasons Karyl had sent Aidan to the Eastern Land—there was a gap, a vulnerability.

Aidan knelt before Karyl, with the assassins behind him, showing his allegiance.

“Good. Then with this, the Three Kingdoms have been sealed.”

Dawn was breaking.

When Karyl had first decided to head to the Three Kingdoms of Istria, he had been somewhat irritated. But now, he was surprisingly pleased with the outcome.

Viola’s strategy, Aidan’s success, and the complete subjugation of the Three Kingdoms into his grasp—all had turned out perfectly.

“And as a bonus, the Eastern Land as well.”

It had taken just three days.

***

“Pff...! Pfahahahaha!”

The woman laughed heartily in front of Lilliana, who was kneeling before her. She stroked the head of the messenger bird before handing the note to Lilliana.

“Read it. It’s a message from him.”

Lilliana, the commander of the Jannabi tribe, raised her hands above her head and took the note that was handed to her.

There was only one person for whom Lilliana, who embodied the nobility of the north, would show such reverence—Hwarin, the chief of the Jannabi tribe.

Despite the fierce blizzard of the north, she wore nothing but a thin robe, seemingly unaffected by the biting cold.

Though Lilliana wasn’t particularly small, her frame seemed small and delicate in comparison to the seated Hwarin, who was so massive she could have easily been mistaken for a giant of some legend. Hwarin was extraordinarily bulky for a woman, her muscles twitching with every laugh.

Even some of the tribespeople occasionally wondered if she carried the blood of the Titans, the mythical giants said to have vanished in ancient times.

“He’s heading to the north,” Lilliana reported from the note.

“Did you read the rest?”

At Hwarin’s prompting, Lilliana hesitantly read the final line of the note.

“...He declared war on the empire in the Holy City. Also, he has united all the forces of the south. Only one place remains. He’s coming to claim the power of the tribes.”

“Hahaha... Just as you said, he’s arrogant and bold. Who else would dare such a thing in Heim?” Hwarin said with a tone full of anticipation.

“Finally, we shall meet,” she went on with a nod.

“He says he’s coming to claim the power of the north... He makes it sound like it’s something he merely left behind.”

Lilliana couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her chief so exhilarated.

“Truly audacious, but that’s how leaders ought to be. Of course, he should know that if he can’t handle the north, he’ll be the one devoured.”

“But...” Lilliana began with a stern expression.

“I know. The tales you’ve told me of his exploits aren’t exaggerated, are they? Subduing the Blazing King, taming the wyverns, and wielding unbelievable magic... As expected from Karliak’s son.”

Hwarin leaned back in her throne and continued, “You’ve kept this a secret from him, I presume.”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s settled. Lilliana, do you believe our Jannabi tribe will easily fall to this man?”

“No, I do not.”

“Good. Our power is no less fiercer than the northern winds.”

She lifted the necklace hanging around her neck.

Wooooosh...

A small vortex appeared and disappeared within the emerald-hued gem set in the hexagonal pendant, as if wind were trapped inside it.

“This must be fate. We shall see if this man is worthy of passing the Great Warrior’s trial."

Shiing!

As she finished speaking, all the tribe members in the tent simultaneously drew their swords.

“He is the son of Karliak, my old friend. Inform the elders. Tell all the tribes to prepare to welcome him in grand fashion.”

As Hwarin extended her hand, her subordinates brought forth a massive greatsword. Despite several men struggling to carry it, she grasped it effortlessly with one hand.

“If... If he truly earns the title of Great Warrior, he may learn the truth behind the Northern War.”

The northern tribes had been ruthlessly hunted and slaughtered by the empire’s knights under the Extermination Decree of Heresy. What the empire hailed as a great victory, the tribes remembered as the darkest war they had ever fought—the Northern War.

Hwarin swung the greatsword in a wide arc before thrusting it into the ground.

Clang!

It sounded like a great hammer had been slammed into the ground. Hwarin had driven the blade halfway into the ground, which seemed all but impossible for an ordinary warrior.

The muscles in her arms swelled as she whispered, “Prepare for the Sword Festival.”


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