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Deep in the forest.
The darkness was thick, and the sense of time seemed to have stopped, making it impossible to tell what hour or minute it was.
Two figures faced each other through the rain.
If one ignored the palpable killing intent that seemed to cut through the rain, and the fact that the distance between them was far from "safe for conversation," the atmosphere could almost be described as "peaceful."
Gard's voice rang out through the rain, completely different from the seductive tone of the fake Gard who had been beheaded by Allen.
It was low, with a hint of mockery.
"Hey, Ghyslaine, the sturdy lower body honed through countless battles in the Sword God Style—if it loses its footing, all the sword techniques built around it lose their threat. Then, you're nothing more than a pitiful little kitten, aren't you? The only Sword King of the Sword God Style, the princess of the beastfolk?"
As his words fell, the sound of something tearing through the rain echoed!
Sparks flew as a blackened crossbow bolt, aimed at Ghyslaine's face, was deflected by her "Heijutsu."
In the darkness, Ghyslaine's furious eyes glared at Gard, another beastfolk. She swung her hand, sending a flash of sword energy through the mud, but Gard sidestepped it effortlessly from ten meters away.
"Look at you. Without the stability of your lower body, even your sword energy is so lackluster... You're too reliant on that set of Sword God Style 'theories' you built to become a Sword King. You've fallen into rigid dogma..."
Gard circled Ghyslaine as if taking a leisurely stroll with a friend, casually firing another crossbow bolt under the cover of his words.
The bolt shot through the air, only to be sliced in half by Ghyslaine!
At the same time, she quickly glanced around, searching for a way out of her predicament.
Before her was a man-made swamp about five meters in diameter, its surface bubbling with mud under the relentless rain, submerging her up to her waist.
Gard and his two companions had dug this pit ahead of time, taking advantage of the rainy night's natural environment. If it were just that, Ghyslaine could have easily broken free using her four-legged form. She wouldn't have been reduced to this state.
But the swamp had been "enhanced"...
Ghyslaine had been trapped for nearly half an hour. She was waiting for the continuous rain to dilute the "enhancements" and give her a chance to escape. Her feet no longer felt as slippery as before, and she could now feel a slight sense of footing...
So, as long as the rain continued to accumulate...
Gard sneered at Ghyslaine's expression and tossed a handful of red spheres into the swamp. Ghyslaine angrily swung her hand, trying to deflect the spheres with her sword energy, but the moment her energy touched them, the spheres exploded in mid-air.
Their contents scattered across the mud. Ghyslaine felt the slight sense of footing she had just regained vanish. She struggled to maintain her balance, finally losing her composure and roaring.
"Gard!!! I'll kill you!!"
Her voice echoed through the dark forest, breaking through the rain.
It was a powerful threat.
Gard's body tensed in the distance. Seeing that Ghyslaine hadn't released any fighting spirit this time, he secretly sighed in relief. While he mocked Ghyslaine's sword energy for being inaccurate, dodging it was still quite taxing. After all, she was a Sword King.
But corroding an enemy's morale with words was ingrained in his instincts as a North God Style swordsman. So, he kept talking, even though the crossbow bolts he fired were of no real use against Ghyslaine.
Their purpose lay elsewhere.
The sound of arrows cutting through the air was crystal clear to the keen ears of a beastfolk. Repeated enough times, it would cause the enemy to lose themselves in frustration.
This was psychological warfare.
It was all to wear down Ghyslaine's will.
He didn't dare get too close.
This was why the two had been locked in a stalemate for half an hour.
Gard fiddled with the crossbow bolt in his hand, quickly adjusting his expression before chuckling.
"The world assumes the Sword God Style is superior to the North God Style, but the Sword God Style's biggest flaw is recklessness. Especially you, Ghyslaine."
"The moment we met, before you even understood what we were here for, your sword moved faster than your muscle-filled brain."
"Sure, the Light Sword is a great tool for killing, but if your next step lands you in a carefully prepared trap, you won't be able to cut us down, will you? It was worth the risk my brother took to lure you here..."
Gard fired another crossbow bolt, watching as Ghyslaine deflected it again. His other hand reached into his robe and pulled out a few more of those red spheres.
North God Style—Red Ink.
A "hidden weapon" unique to the North God Style, crafted by specialized alchemists. When subjected to strong impact, its contents scatter in a wide radius.
This was a technique used by Peacock Sword—North Emperor Auber during the Asura Kingdom's succession war to hinder Eris and Ghyslaine's advance.
With this, all Sword God Style techniques reliant on stable footing became impossible to execute.
In the original story, Auber used a version with a strong adhesive, ideal for indoor or dry outdoor conditions. Its weakness was that it would quickly dissolve when washed away by water.
Notably, Red Ink had another variant, filled with a lubricant that rapidly dissolved upon contact with water.
The effect was the opposite of Auber's Red Ink, designed specifically for rainy conditions.
The goal, however, was the same: to create openings for North God Style swordsmen to exploit.
But those who had seen it were usually dead, so it remained unknown to the world.
Even among living North God Style swordsmen, only a few knew of it.
It was a closely guarded secret.
One of the many cunning and deceptive tactics of the Unorthodox Faction.
If such cunning tactics were widely known, how could they still be called cunning?
This was the North God Style—Unorthodox Faction.
Gard continued firing crossbow bolts, observing Ghyslaine's expression. Realizing her mental state was on the brink of collapse, just one spark away from losing control, he couldn't help but smile victoriously.
"By my calculations, my brother should have succeeded by now. I've been stalling you for so long because I was waiting for backup. What about you? What are you waiting for? A corpse? Or your own death?"
"I'll kill you!!"
A deafening roar rippled through the rain. As a fellow beastfolk with keen hearing, Gard smirked in triumph, lowering his rabbit ears to block his ear canals.
"Tsk, tsk, no use shouting. What's the point? Once they arrive, it'll be your death. Why not just accept it peacefully? The pay for this job is pretty good. I should thank you for being so useless... Look at you now, panicked and desperate. You don't really have any hope for that Water Saint kid, do you?"
"Earlier, you even claimed he'd kill my brother. What a joke."
Gard raised his crossbow, aiming it at Ghyslaine.
"Where did you even get that confidence? It's ridiculous. Him? You must be joking..."
As he spoke.
The rain fell.
The wind blew.
The leaves rustled.
Masking the faintest of footsteps.
But Gard still heard them.
It was the familiar stealthy gait of the North God Style...
At the same time, his blocked ears caught a faint voice.
"Gard?"
A look of joy flashed across Gard's face, and he instinctively turned his head. But in that instant, his mind registered that the voice sounded... off.
It didn't sound like his brother's voice?
But his eyes had already turned.
Before him was the familiar face of his brother...
Yes.
It was his brother's face...
But his neck felt cold.
His thoughts froze.
With a thud, Gard's head hit the ground, blood spurting into the night!!
A figure stepped out silently from behind him, blood splattering onto his body before being washed away by the rain, pooling into a shallow, blood-colored lake at his feet.
Thick blood lines connected to the "lake," which rapidly faded in the rain.
The newcomer held Nuckel's head in his hand, lifting it in front of him.
In the swamp, Ghyslaine's roar suddenly ceased, as if it had never happened.
The two locked eyes.
Through the rain and blood.
The ripples of time echoed in the rain.
Ten minutes earlier.
Five kilometers away.
In the rain, the wind constantly brought information about the surroundings!
Allen swiftly navigated through the forest, avoiding the unnatural breaks in the branches.
The muddy puddles beneath the fallen leaves.
These weren't formed by the rain or the footsteps of animals.
They were the result of someone using fighting spirit to churn the mud, masking their tracks.
It was clear.
And "fresh."
The relentless rain was erasing all traces, but Allen steadily closed the distance to Nuckel!
His figure cut through the rain!
The chase had lasted nearly ten minutes, and as Allen sprinted, the traces Nuckel had left behind became increasingly obvious!
Allen narrowed his eyes, staring into the dark forest ahead. The wind brought a strange, discordant sensation.
It was as if...
A slender beast was fleeing ahead, disturbing the airflow.
"...Got you. Now, what's next?"
A blade of light cut through the rain!
Allen swung his sword, sending a blade of energy toward his side. A tree as thick as a man's waist, "coincidentally" snapped in half and came crashing toward him. Allen split it in two with his sword and shot through the gap!
Nuckel's figure had once again disappeared from his sight, but the environmental cues kept Allen's "gaze" firmly locked on him!
"Twenty-one traps so far. The Unorthodox Faction truly lives up to its name. But starting from the twelfth trap, the frequency has been increasing..."
"Nuckel's getting impatient."
"His patience is wearing thin because I'm nothing like the Water God Style swordsmen he's used to. Typically, Water God Style isn't known for speed, focusing more on defense and counterattacks. So, from the moment he threw that woman to slow me down, every trap since has been designed to exploit the 'Water God Style' mindset, to make me stop and abandon the chase—something Water God Style isn't supposed to excel at."
"But he didn't expect that I'm not a typical Water God Style swordsman, and my fighting spirit reserves far exceed what this seasoned Sword Saint anticipated."
"In the original story, Nuckel is only referred to as a North King when he's with Gard. This suggests that most of his techniques require his brother to unleash their full potential, hence the title 'Twin Swords.' When people panic, they instinctively seek their comfort zone. So, his first instinct was to flee toward Ghyslaine's location, where he could regain his preferred fighting style!"
"I wonder how Ghyslaine's doing? But based on Nuckel's anxious state, she must be close."
"If these two reunite, and Ghyslaine's in bad shape, they might escape. Worse, if Ghyslaine can't fight... I might even be the one killed..."
"So... I need to create an opportunity to kill him before meeting Ghyslaine. Time is running out!"
As the sound of falling trees echoed behind him, a glint of something unreadable flashed in Allen's gray eyes.
At the same time, a similar thought crossed Nuckel's mind ahead!
"So... I need to find a chance to kill him before meeting Gard. Time is running out!"
When faced with unknown, uncontrollable variables, people's reactions are often similar.
It's called caution!
Allen was wary of Ghyslaine's situation and decided to kill Nuckel first. But wasn't Nuckel thinking the same?
Now, that caution had reached its limit!
Because the spring of "testing" had been compressed to its limit!
Nuckel darted past a tree, feeling the blade of light flash behind him. His tense expression finally broke into a smile.
"Throwing that woman bought me time to set the first trap. Then came twenty-one more. The testing worked! It's subtle, but the kid's sword movements are slowing down, and he's deliberately protecting his neck... Is he using fighting spirit to suppress the wound? Chasing me while injured? How confident..."
"The highest level of Water God Style, but with the reckless mind of a Sword God Style swordsman. If he had also delved deeply into the North God Style, he'd be a formidable opponent..."
"Too bad, there are no 'ifs.'"
"So, you should die!"
As the thought crossed his mind, lightning split the night sky!
Allen's rain-soaked boots slammed into the ground, water splashing as the lightning illuminated his eyes.
In that instant!
Amid the lightning's glow, a gleaming dagger shot out from the shadows of the forest ahead!
Allen's pupils contracted sharply. His wrist hesitated for a moment before he swung his sword, deflecting the dagger as he had done before!
The sound of blade meeting dagger echoed, and the light illuminating the forest vanished.
Allen's vision, adjusting to the sudden shift from light to dark, entered a brief period of adaptation.
But the sensation of wind against his skin had already brought "new" information!
A follow-up attack, launched under the cover of the lightning!
The sound of something sharp cutting through the rain, aimed straight for his neck!
"Flow Sense" was still active!
Allen twisted his neck sharply. The pitch-black dagger grazed his neck with a clang, embedding itself into a tree behind him!
Even though the dagger hadn't touched his skin, blood still sprayed from his neck!!
At the same time, his body stiffened.
In the blind spot of his peripheral vision, a figure shot forward, delivering a ghostly sword strike!
Nuckel thrust his short sword straight toward Allen's back!!
"An opening!"
But at that moment, he heard a soft murmur.
Carried through the layers of rain, it reached his ears.
The tone was almost leisurely...
The same two words, the same mindset.
An unexpected yet identical North God Style probing tactic.
Like Nuckel, Allen had been using the feedback from his opponent to seek the perfect...
"Opening."
Nuckel's heart turned cold.
Colder than his heart was his neck.
In his vision, Allen's body showed no sign of stiffness. He had already turned, the blade's light extinguishing in the rain!
The wound on his neck was rapidly healing, the flesh knitting together. It was a "bait" he had created himself.
Could his Soundless Sword pose a fatal threat to a Saint-level opponent within a few meters?
No, not fast enough.
Then what if the distance was closer?
Would one meter be fast enough?
Ah, no. As an excellent North God Style swordsman, such recklessness was unbecoming.
He should be more cautious.
What about within a foot?
The distance of a hand's reach.
Would that be fast enough?
The blood provided the answer.
Nuckel's vision swayed, the light in his eyes fading.
Allen held his head and vanished into the night.
"Next."
Blood rained down, ripples spreading across the swamp.
Lightning split the sky!
Along with the dazzling flash came a blade of light. A tree as thick as a man's embrace was sliced into planks, laid across the swamp with precise control of the blade's momentum.
The figure holding the head stepped onto them.
He walked toward Ghyslaine, her eyes blazing with intensity.
He reached out, opening his hand before her.
"Hello, first time meeting you."
In the lightning's glow, his eyes sparkled, and his smile was unrestrained.
"My name is Allen."
Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 166 on my patreon, go check it out and remember that if we reach the goal of 40 power stones I will publish the next chapter.