I Can See the Sword’s Memories

Chapter 25: Knights’ Competition (4)

The tournament was a chance for the Imperial knight factions to prove their strength. 

Although deputy commanders and higher ranks were barred from competing, every rank below was eligible. 

Every year, the question loomed: Which faction is the strongest? Victory here wasn’t just a matter of pride; it was a declaration of power. 

Unsurprisingly, the participants were fiercely motivated.

“The matches for junior members will begin now.” The announcement came from a middle-aged man with an unassuming appearance and subdued presence. 

Yet no one dared to ignore him, thanks to the prominent badge on his chest. 

The emblem, shaped like swirling wind, signified his rank: commander of the Wind faction. 

He wasn’t alone; the commanders of the other knight factions were also present.

My gaze landed on one figure in particular. While most commanders were older, there was one striking exception: a young man who looked barely past his mid-twenties. 

It was Kaimond, commander of the Azure Wings faction. Though I had been with Azure Wings for some time, this was the first time I had seen Kaimond in person. 

He had recently returned from a long-term deployment. My eyes lingered on the sword at his side.

The trio of us—Theo, Flora, and I—quickly turned our attention back to our preparations. 

The tournament followed a single-elimination format, meaning repeated victories could lead to the awkward possibility of facing each other.

The first match didn’t involve any of us, however. Instead, it was Raffain, a fellow junior knight who had joined Azure Wings before us yet remained a lower-ranked member.

“Don’t lose to those Claw bastards!” “Remember, falling means dying!” The seniors of Azure Wings cheered as Raffain walked to the center of the colosseum. 

The seniors, whose matches would come later, had already blended into the crowd.

Raffain’s opponent was a young man who looked just shy of adulthood. 

The badge on his shoulder bore the distinctive claw marks of the Claw faction’s junior rank.

There was no signal to start the match. 

The moment the two knights entered the colosseum, the fight began naturally—both had drawn their swords as they walked in.

Clang! Their blades clashed, creating sharp sparks with every strike. Each blow was measured, their movements deliberate. Neither yielded an inch.

I watched the match closely, one hand on my chin. There’s much to learn here, I thought. 

Despite being juniors, the years of experience and training behind each strike were evident.

“Who do you think will win?” Flora asked. “Hmm…” I didn’t respond immediately. It was too early to tell, though Raffain seemed to have a slight edge in composure.

Clang! The match intensified, and the pace quickened. A sudden burst of energy kicked up a cloud of dust. 

Bang! Clatter! Just when it seemed the match might drag on, Raffain made his move. 

Twisting his blade with precision, he disarmed his opponent and placed the tip of his sword at the young man’s neck.

Cheers erupted. “Azure Wings wins!” The spectators roared with approval. 

There was no jeering for the loser, only applause for the impressive display from both knights.

“The winner is Raffain!” The two competitors saluted each other respectfully before leaving the arena. As Raffain returned, he briefly glanced at us.

Something about his gaze irked me, and I scowled. I stood. 

Though the next competitor hadn’t been called yet, I had seen the bracket and knew it was my turn.

“I’m up.” “Good luck!” “You’ve got this, Saeorin!” “Go enchant every guy out there!” one senior teased. “Azure Wings’ visitor count will skyrocket after today…” another added.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, half-annoyed and half-amused. My lips curled into a faint smirk.

My opponent was someone familiar: Dyan Tybolt of the Wind faction. 

Unlike before, Tybolt’s expression was serious. 

His gaze didn’t linger on my face but studied my movements, carefully analyzing every step. This won’t be easy, I thought.

As I entered the colosseum, I drew my sword. The weight in my hand felt grounding, infusing me with resolve. 

This time, there would be no quick victory. Tybolt was focused and wouldn’t fall for the same tricks. But I was equally determined.

Without any signal, the match began the moment we stepped into the arena. 

A faint breeze brushed my hair as Tybolt and I charged at each other.

Clang! I staggered back. Tybolt had attacked with mana-infused strikes right from the start, clearly aiming to overwhelm me.

Clang! Our blades clashed again. Though initially pushed back, I regained my footing, dust billowing under my sliding shoes.

“Saeorin, I owe you my thanks!” Tybolt shouted mid-attack, his tone calm enough to show he wasn’t strained.

I barely dodged, choosing not to respond.

In strength, Tybolt had the upper hand. He likely came from a noble family, with access to rare medicines that increased mana reserves. 

The difference was undeniable. Backing away, I quickly assessed the situation. 

Strength won’t win this. Neither will swordsmanship alone. 

If power and skill weren’t enough, I would have to find another way. A seasoned hunter always made use of their surroundings. The predator within me stirred.

Whoosh! I darted across the arena, kicking up dust with each step. 

Repeating the maneuver a few times, I gradually obscured the colosseum with a dense cloud of dust. “What the…!” Tybolt exclaimed, momentarily blinded.

Tybolt couldn’t see me. His eyes scanned the dusty haze, searching for my presence, which had vanished into the murky veil. 

My presence had disappeared, only for a sharp strike to suddenly pierce through the air.

Whirr—! “Guh!” Tybolt barely noticed the attack until it was almost upon him, reacting just a moment too late. Unable to brace properly, his stance faltered as the impact struck.

Then came a soft sound—tap. Tybolt swung his sword with all his might toward the source of the noise. “You’re there!”

Whoosh—! But his blade sliced through nothing but empty air. Another sharp strike followed, this time connecting.

Clang—! “Ugh…!” Again, he was too slow to defend properly. Blood spilled from a fresh wound on his shoulder. It was like fighting an invisible enemy. 

For the first time, Tybolt felt a flicker of fear. He pushed it down, refusing to acknowledge it.

No, he thought. There’s only one emotion I’ll allow myself to feel toward that little girl. I need to get out of this dust.

Deciding quickly, Tybolt leaped backward, scanning his surroundings warily. And then, he felt it—a ferocious, primal intent bearing down on him. 

The air was thick with killing intent, as if a wild predator was about to sink its fangs into his throat.

There! Confident he had pinpointed my position, Tybolt lunged forward, his blade gleaming with mana as it carved a straight path.

Whoosh—! But there was nothing. His sword struck empty air again.

Only then did Tybolt realize he had been outmaneuvered.

Hiss— Something silent and deadly closed in on his neck. This was the real attack, but he was powerless to respond. His breathing was uneven, and his body was exposed. Tybolt knew he had lost.

Tap— The faint sound of a step heralded the dispersal of the dust cloud. Within the clearing haze, a figure emerged.

A wolf? The spectral outline of a wolf flickered and faded. In the next instant, I came into view, my sword poised at Tybolt’s throat.

“This is…” Tybolt exhaled heavily, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. 

The dissipating dust revealed the scene to the entire colosseum, and with it, the match’s conclusion.

Cheers erupted, louder than before. “She’s so pretty—and she won!” I swept my hair back with my free hand, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

“The winner—Saeorin!” The commander of the Wind faction declared the result. I sheathed my sword and stepped back.

As I withdrew, Tybolt spoke. “This time… this time, I treated it like a real battle.”

My eyes widened slightly. It seemed my words from our previous match had left a deep impression on him. 

Good, I thought. Acknowledging one’s flaws and working to improve them was the mark of someone ready to grow stronger.

Retrieving my sword, I tapped my chest twice with my fist. “That was a good match.”