Sword Devouring Swordmaster-Chapter 82 : Chapter 82

Chapter 82 — The Light (1)
The grandest event of the 「Arena」— The day of the Infinite Duel had finally arrived.
The number of people gathered in the Steel City was incomparable to before, and their fervor was overwhelming. Even lining up for participation was difficult. While waiting for my turn, I heard something unexpected.
“You’re not participating? Seol Yoon.”
“Yeah.”
Seol Yoon declared that she wouldn’t take part in this most dazzling competition.
Why?
“I’ve already gained a lot.”
“But since you’re here, wouldn’t it be good to test your skill as well?”
“I already did. When I crossed swords with you.”
Seol Yoon looked calm and untroubled.
“Besides, this doesn’t feel like a time to swing my sword—it feels like a time to forge it.”
“Sorry?”
“I haven’t yet properly honed what I gained when we fought. Now isn’t the time.”
Her resolve was unwavering.
“Arhan.”
“Yes.”
“Even a butterfly that’s broken free from its cocoon can’t fly if its wings aren’t hardened enough. Weak wings are swept away by the wind and fall. And the higher you fall from, the more it hurts. So before you fly, you prepare—thoroughly.”
In her gaze, I saw tranquil water—a peaceful surface that, even when disturbed by a thrown pebble, soon calmed again.
Looking at Seol Yoon, I said,
“…You could talk that long?”
“Hey.”
I’d asked purely out of curiosity, but she didn’t seem to appreciate it. Anyway, with that pointless joke between us, I stepped into the circular coliseum—the 「Arena」 that held the eyes of all the Steel City.
“Thank you all for your patience, everyone─!”
The eyes gathered there weren’t merely those of ordinary spectators.
My friend, the genius Seol Yoon, who’d chosen not to participate, was there. Tom, the kind administrator who’d written me a recommendation letter, would be among them too. And surely, there were many fighters who held some goodwill toward me.
“The flower of the Arena! The most glorious duel inherited from the ancient age—!”
Of course, not every gaze was friendly.
The Iron Prince, who’d told me to “show him something entertaining,” would also be watching. And perhaps even his executioner, Swordmaster Carlos, would be with him.
What kind of expression would Carlos wear when he saw the last surviving Karavan?
What punishment would that monster deliver to the boy who defied his order and dared to hold a sword?
I didn’t know. But I wasn’t afraid.
That was simply how the world worked—dark and uncertain, with no one knowing what tomorrow might bring.
“Let the true Infinite Duel begin!”
Rather than waste time on fear, I had to take another step forward—toward the place I sought to reach.
「Empty your mind for this moment.」
Liam spoke quietly.
「Focus only on survival.」
“...”
「I told you before—The Infinite Duel is a battle every descendant of the Steel Blood must experience. It’s a trial you need right now.」
“...”
「Endure the trials to come, and survive.」
His eyes gleamed.
「Then you’ll become stronger—harder than ever before.」
***
The Infinite Duel. It was both the name of the great three-stage festival held by the 「Arena」 and the title of its final and most ancient duel. Unlike the other duels—the “Race Duel” and “War Duel,” which changed themes and formats each year—the Infinite Duel was always the same.
All participants were guaranteed anonymity. And the duels had no rules.
Those two short sentences summarized everything. In detail—it meant that every identifying element, including a fighter’s name, was completely concealed. Then, strangers were thrust together into a single battlefield, where an unrestricted fight began.
No time limit.
No rule except one: the duel continued until only one person remained standing.
And unlike the other matches, killing in the Infinite Duel was never condemned. That made it all the more brutal, gruesome, and thrilling.
The spectacle of lives teetering between survival and death sent shivers of ecstasy through the crowd.
That’s why the Infinite Duel was both a stage where any fighter could become a star—and a graveyard where even the greatest could die like dogs.
“Next fighter! This way, please!”
The atmosphere was unlike any before. Even the other fighters wore tension I’d never seen on their faces before. Some radiated sharpness that couldn’t be ignored.
There were many I’d never seen before—clearly high-level warriors.
As I observed them, my turn came.
“Please take this helmet and armor.”
“What’s this?”
“These are special items crafted annually by dwarves. They completely conceal your face and even the outline of your body. In the past, we only used helmets, but people started guessing identities from body shapes and features—so we made these new full-body sets.”
“I see.”
“To honor the spirit of the Infinite Duel and make all fighters truly equal, we spared no expense. Oh, and you must never remove the helmet. If it breaks in combat, that’s fine, but if you remove it yourself, you’ll be disqualified immediately.”
“Understood.”
If you removed it yourself, you were disqualified.
‘So that’s the “surrender” condition, huh?’
The Infinite Duel was meant to last until only one survived, but the inclusion of a disqualification rule meant some semblance of order.
Contradictory, but understandable.
‘Without a loophole like that, no one would join.’
For the Arena to have lasted centuries, some safety net had to exist.
I nodded to myself—then heard Liam’s chuckle.
「Tell me you didn’t just think those clowns running the Arena had even a shred of mercy.」
“...”
「I do hope you didn’t.」
He laughed slyly. I didn’t know why, but the tone unsettled me.
「Well, you’ll see soon enough.」
It took quite some time for all fighters to be issued their gear.
The Arena’s staff were carefully verifying everyone’s identities. Then—
“Ladies and gentlemen! While our brave fighters make their final preparations, let us explain this year’s Infinite Duel! All you who love the struggles of the Steel City already know what the Infinite Duel is, and even those from across the continent must have heard of it!”
…
“But! This year’s Infinite Duel differs from previous years in one major way!”
The announcer’s voice boomed across the arena.
“As you know, the Infinite Duel is chaotic. Since no one knows who anyone is, they hesitate to fight. And with no time limit, it takes ages before anything decisive happens! Some spectators even get bored and leave! Why is that?”
…
“First, because of the ‘campers’—fighters who seize an advantageous position and refuse to move! They sit atop hills or hide in corners, waiting for prey. Two years ago, there were too many such cowards! When one of them ambushed and killed a valiant duelist by pure luck, the crowd raged—‘That’s not the spirit of a warrior!’ they cried!”
…
“Second, the ‘hyenas!’ They lurk nearby, waiting for others to exhaust themselves fighting, then swoop in and claim the kill! Disgraceful, despicable behavior! We of the Arena have long pondered how to solve these problems—and we’ve found an answer!”
The announcer grinned.
“We built a fence.”
A murmur swept through the audience.
I was just as confused. Why change a centuries-old, sacred tradition now, of all times—when I was participating?
“A ‘fence’ will encircle the coliseum where our fighters will battle! Identical in size and shape to the arena itself, this fence will shrink over time—forcing combatants to move and preventing them from hiding! And fighters may not cross it. If you do, something very unpleasant will happen.”
His voice echoed thunderously.
“So, everyone—please, show us the spirit of true warriors! Please!”
Other fighters seemed equally bewildered.
All stood around blankly—until one of them spoke lazily.
“Why all the chatter?”
The man yawned so wide it looked painful. He was lounging near a wall, resting his chin on his hand, watching everyone else. No tension, no fear—only boredom. He looked like a man on a casual stroll.
“The announcer wasn’t wrong. Let’s at least act like fighters, huh?”
His tone was teasing, his smile languid. He didn’t look like a fighter at all—with his silk-blond hair, unscarred fair skin, and gemlike blue eyes. More like a young nobleman who’d never held a sword.
“Not that he’s wrong though… haaaahm.”
Still yawning, he leaned against the wall and smiled.
A few fighters glared at him, but he didn’t care, nodding off mid-sentence.
A strange man.
As I stared at him, Liam spoke.
「My young descendant.」
“Yes?”
「Be careful of that one.」
“…Him?”
「Yes.」
That lazy-looking man?
Was this another one of my master’s jokes? But he explained in a single line.
「He’s from one of the Great Five Houses.」
***
The site of the Infinite Duel was a massive circular coliseum. Surrounding it, just as the announcer described, was the “fence.” But it wasn’t a fence in any ordinary sense.
‘So basically, cross it and die.’
The mana infused within it was lethal—designed solely to destroy.
Even a trained fighter would be shredded to nothing upon contact.
‘The fence goes from the ground all the way up to the sky.’
In other words, no escape.
The Arena’s planners had stripped every fighter of the right to flee. Even worse.
‘They said removing the helmet would disqualify you, but they made it impossible to take off anyway.’
The dwarves’ so-called “special equipment” couldn’t be removed without another person’s help.
When I’d tugged experimentally on my own helmet, the collar tightened against my throat.
If I pulled harder, my neck would probably snap.
‘So if you try to forfeit, you just die instead. And then the announcer laughs and calls it “unbecoming of a warrior.” What madness...’
Now I understood why Liam had laughed.
The Arena had dangled the illusion of an exit—just to lure in more participants. But once inside, there was no way out. No escape, no retreat. In the Infinite Duel, only two choices remained—Die, or survive.
“What—what the hell? Why won’t this come off?”
Some fighters had apparently tried the same experiment.
They fumbled at their helmets, panicking.
The sight of those identical, faceless black figures flailing about was both absurd and eerie.
As confusion spread—
“Now begins the final trial of our fighters’ valor! Beneath a clear sky, all will stand equal in courage! Let the Infinite Duel commence!”
The Arena ignored their fear.
“No corrupt rules, no mercy—only sacred combat! A noble tradition passed down since the age of the holy coliseums! Fighters, honor this place with your courage!”
The crowd roared.
The announcer’s voice thundered.
“This holy duel is dedicated to the Goddess Refri, guardian of justice!”
And below, the fighters stood frozen.
“Then—begin!”
At his word, a thunderous signal resounded.
“Waaaahhh!”
“Kill! Kill them all—!”
The crowd’s screams shook the air. Around me, some fighters still hadn’t regained their senses—black figures in indistinguishable armor.
“W-wait—!”
Then—
“Gah—!”
One of those dark figures suddenly jerked. A blade jutted out from his chest. With a wet sound, the blade withdrew, spraying blood.
“Spacing out in a place like this?”
Thud.
The black figure collapsed, spilling blood that pooled in the dirt.
He twitched once—then went still.
“Here, hesitation means death.”
The first death came swiftly.
The spectators howled in delight as another fighter stumbled back, fell, and tried to crawl away.
“U-ugh…”
Even through the helmet, I could imagine his face—pale with fear, slick with sweat and tears, eyes wide and broken. He tried to rise, but it was already over.
“Idiot.”
Crunch. Another neck snapped. Another fighter fell.
The smell of blood grew thick and suffocating.
And I—
「Ah.」
—raised my sword.
「Now this feels familiar.」
To survive.
「Yes. This is a coliseum.」
Liam grinned as I lowered my stance. Death was already spreading through the battlefield—and I wouldn’t be exempt.
“Raaaaaah!”
A fighter charged at me, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and terror. Despite the quiver in his cry, his form was solid.
‘To even be here means he’s been verified.’
Every fighter in this match was at least a 「Sword Walker」. None were below my level. Meaning I couldn’t afford to underestimate anyone.
I had to fight—and survive—with everything I had.
「Remember what you’ve learned, my young descendant.」
“Of course.”
Between us, countless “Paths” extended. Some were his; some were mine.
I ignored his and focused on mine—searching for the most efficient among them. It didn’t take long.
“Hu.”
I lowered my stance, watching him close in. And then—
“Hup.”
I drew in my breath and trapped it inside. The compressed breath rotated within me, igniting the mana circulating through my body, heating every Path within.
「Good. Your hard work should pay off now.」
This wasn’t some lung-capacity training exercise. It was one of the new techniques I’d learned preparing for this duel. Or rather—not something Liam taught me directly.
It was—
“Hup─!”
—what I learned from the blade I had ingested. From the 「Light」.
『You need only burn brightly for a single moment.』
My body blazed with heat.
Not just my body—my sword itself burned, as though aflame.
『Yes—just for a single moment.』
When the heat seared my palm, the fighter reached me. His form was precise, his swing powerful—a deadly sword meant to cleave my head. But—
『Like a star that flashes once before it dies.』
His blade never touched me.
“Wha—”
Shk. A clean sound rang out.
The kind you’d hear in a kitchen—a blade slicing neatly through flesh.
And the result was just as clean.
“G-guh—”
Thud.
The charging fighter split in two. His upper body hit the ground with a puff of dust; his lower half remained standing for a moment before collapsing. His sword—broken perfectly in half—rolled across the dirt.
“...”
Every fighter turned toward me.
The single stroke I’d swung brought silence.
And in that stillness—my master spoke.
「Not bad. Quite usable.」
If they’d heard him, they would’ve been terrified.