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Chapter 19: Ten Seconds
The shards of the shattered sword gleamed in various colors under the auditorium lights.
I had played Flame Butterfly Arc countless times.
In it, Ban was always an important figure as Lucas's friend, standing by his side.
Could I, someone like that, truly have been unaware of Ban's existence?
Of course not.
Before the mock battle, I studied relentlessly.
While part of that was to keep up with the academy's curriculum, the main focus was learning how to counter my future opponents.
I am no genius.
But I know the habits, behaviors, unique traits, strengths, and weaknesses of even the supporting characters.
I remember all of it clearly.
Flame Butterfly Arc was my favorite, the one I loved most.
Even the supporting characters are unforgettable to me.
That’s why, more than anything, I want to see the happy ending.
I wish this game I love so dearly could always end happily.
Among the shattered fragments of the sword, my hand surged forward.
Taking the shape of a sword, my hand became a sword thanks to my steel-like skin.
A living bio-weapon.
I, the sword, lunged at Ban.
Swish!
The edge of my hand narrowly grazed past Ban's neck.
What kind of reflexes does this guy have?
Even startled by his sword breaking, Ban reacted in time.
‘Tch.’
Even if I look like this, I used to be an athlete before I got injured.
But my past efforts mean little to those who've already transcended human limits.
Still, it’s fine.
‘If I fail once...’
I’ll follow up with a second attempt.
‘He’s coming.’
My eyes met Ban's.
Ban was looking at me with a blank expression.
But in his eyes, I could see a quiet flame rising.
This unprecedented situation where his sword shattered—
For Ban, it was the first time his sword had ever been broken.
‘You must be out of your mind.’
And this sparked a fire called the will to win.
Ban had always possessed the flames of a desire for victory.
But for some reason, those flames had died out once before.
However, there was a moment when that flame reignited.
It was when he faced Lucas, the fiery spark of determination.
Originally, that fire should have burned brightly alongside Lucas.
But when Lucas died, Ban’s flames faded away as well.
And now,
his once-dormant flames of victory
had been rekindled by the faint spark of my own.
Ban clenched his hand.
Only an empty hilt remained in his grip.
But Ban was a genius.
Crackle! Crackle!
Sparks of blue light erupted.
Ban's ash-gray hair scattered with the aura.
The surrounding air vibrated, and a soundless roar echoed in my ears.
My steel skin tingled.
Every fiber of my being screamed the same warning:
‘This is dangerous.’
On the empty sword,
even without a physical edge, a blue sword of aura materialized, baring its teeth with a feral roar.
Grrr, grrrr-
It's said that when one encounters a swordmaster capable of wielding sword aura, the growls of a beast can be heard.
This phenomenon, caused by sword aura meeting the air, remains unexplained.
But it cements one undeniable truth:
The swordmaster before you is more dangerous than any beast.
The shape of the sword formed entirely of sword aura revealed itself from Ban’s sword.
The students watching let out gasps of shock and awe.
Even those capable of wielding sword aura are rare in this world.
But reaching the level of manifesting a sword purely out of aura—
That’s a skill worthy of being recruited by the illustrious Hysirion Empire’s royal knights.
A genius.
Ban was demonstrating exactly what that meant at this very moment.
The shape of the brilliant blue sword aura glowed with an almost eerie radiance.
But I knew this:
Ban couldn’t maintain the shape of his sword aura without a proper sword for long.
At best, it would only last ten seconds.
Ban’s gaze shifted for the first time today, igniting with determination.
It would be his loss without a sword if he couldn’t finish the fight within ten seconds.
And Ban understood that better than anyone.
Still, if it’s Ban...
‘He’ll definitely aim to win within ten seconds.’
That’s the kind of person this lazy genius is.
Suddenly, Ban disappeared from in front of me.
My body instinctively tensed.
Using techniques with my steel skin was no longer an option.
If I got struck even once, it would be over.
The next ten seconds.
I had to evade everything.
“Ban!”
The instructor, realizing too late that Ban had pulled out a dangerously risky move, called out to him.
But Ban, with his sword of pure aura, couldn’t be stopped.
In his hyper-focused state, nothing could reach him.
The only thing filling his vision was me.
‘Yeah, that’s just the kind of guy you are.’
I looked at Ban and let out a grim smile.
Even though Ban is a genius, he’s lazy.
But that doesn’t mean he lacks the desire to win.
If anything, his desire to win is excessive.
It’s precisely because of this overwhelming hunger for victory that Ban has messed up countless times.
Even with his own family.
Ban’s talent was unparalleled, and his desire to win was relentless.
As a result, his eldest brother, who loved swords more than anyone, was utterly defeated by Ban’s sword.
After that, his brother locked himself in his room.
He abandoned the sword he once loved and avoided Ban.
Ban was devastated.
He grew disgusted with his own desire to win.
This insatiable hunger for victory—it was unbearable.
So he chose to let go of it.
In his youth, Ban decided to become lazy, worn down by the bitterness of his own talent.
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But now, for the first time in ages, his desire to win had reignited, sparked by Lucas.
The craving he had kept buried deep inside.
That desire engulfed Ban in an instant.
‘The first attack will be aimed at the head.’
I was well-acquainted with Ban's habits.
And those habits hadn’t changed.
As the sword, initially targeting my waist, abruptly shifted upward to aim for my head,
I leaned back sharply, compromising my posture in the process.
The sword's aura narrowly missed my nose, slicing across its bridge.
Blood spattered, but it wasn’t a fatal wound.
One second.
The now lighter sword, unburdened by a sword edge, flexibly redirected itself and sank into my shoulder.
A chunk of flesh near my armpit was torn away, but it wasn’t a critical injury either.
Two seconds.
The sword, having twisted, moved to strike low.
Simultaneously, I threw a fragment of a broken sword I had been secretly gripping.
Ban dodged the shard flying straight at his face.
That moment of avoidance gave me enough time to roll out of his reach.
Three seconds.
Rolling on the ground, I kicked up a half-broken shield.
Ban's sword sliced downward, splitting the shield into two more pieces.
Four seconds.
As I attempted to rise, Ban’s merciless sword chased me, tearing through the arena floor.
My hand, which had been tucked into a joint in the flooring, flipped a tile upward.
Ban’s sword cleaved through the tile.
Five seconds.
Between the cracks of the broken tile, his sword shot up toward me.
I stumbled—my body faltered from repeated injuries and the strain on my unsteady posture.
I realized.
With my current state, I could no longer evade Ban’s strikes.
Victory and defeat.
These two outcomes collided at the same moment.
Our eyes met.
Ban noticed the faint smile spreading across my face.
The fact that I was smiling in this dire situation startled him.
Ban had gone all out for ten seconds.
But that was his mistake.
This fight wasn’t destined to last for such a long time.
Five seconds.
That was the timeframe I had calculated for my victory.
Boom!
A sudden intrusion shattered the flow of the battle.
Someone grabbed Ban and slammed him into the ground.
The shock disrupted Ban’s control over his sword aura, and his sword’s hilt rolled across the ground.
Ban’s hands, glowing white-hot from overusing his sword aura, trembled.
As Ban lifted his head in a daze, he saw her.
Professor Vega, the second-year martial arts instructor.
She looked down at Ban with a slightly exasperated expression.
"What, were you planning to kill your classmate with your own hands? Ban."
At her question, Ban froze.
His gaze slowly shifted toward me.
His eyes scanned my battered state.
His final strike.
That strike had clearly been aimed at my life.
Ban realized that his overwhelming desire for victory had consumed him once again.
"Ah."
A sigh escaped his lips, filled with self-reproach.
This was the first time in a long while—since Lucas—that his competitive spirit had burned so fiercely.
Lucas had been a worthy rival, someone strong enough to freely challenge Ban to rematches.
It was because of Lucas that Ban had been able to test his resolve time and again.
But I wasn’t Lucas.
Lucas was the protagonist.
I was a third-rate villain, long since removed from the narrative.
I could never stand on equal footing with Ban in battle as Lucas had.
"…I’m sorry."
As Ban apologized, Vega let him off without further reprimand.
She then turned her attention to me, slumped on the ground.
"Hannon, this is your warning too."
Of course, it was Professor Vega.
She had noticed from the beginning that I had anticipated her intervention.
"And Ban."
Vega called out to Ban, who was rising to his feet with a sullen face.
"Look carefully at that guy. Even if the mock battle had continued, your victory wasn’t guaranteed."
Ban slowly raised his head.
"The problem is, you failed to notice that your opponent had concealed his final move until the very end. That’s your defeat."
Ban’s eyes widened in realization.
He saw the faint glow emanating from my arm, slowly dimming.
Vega’s intervention.
And the next move I had prepared in case she hadn’t.
A magic engraving.
Ban finally understood that I had considered both outcomes from the very start.
I still had a final, hidden move up my sleeve.
If the fight had continued,
who knows what outcome awaited Ban, given his inability to perceive it.
"Don’t be arrogant. I acknowledge your skill with the sword, but don’t underestimate the strengths of those around you."
Vega’s advice struck deep, leaving Ban dazed.
"Ha, haha."
Finally, Ban let out a hollow laugh.
He looked at me briefly before lowering his head.
"I lost."
At Ban’s next words, I snorted.
"Stating the obvious, huh?"
Who did he think won?
Ban chuckled in disbelief.
Watching him, my body began to sway.
It didn’t take long for me to understand why.
I had bled too much while moving.
The relief of the battle’s end and the exhaustion that followed.
Even the adrenaline-fueled endorphins had faded.
The result was clear from the start.
‘I’m coming for you, bed.’
Through my dimming consciousness, I caught sight of Isabel glaring at me from afar.
Isabel, who had been eagerly awaiting a fight with me.
Sorry, Isabel.
Next time, maybe.
Once again, I had given Isabel a reason to be frustrated.
Thud.
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