Sword Devouring Swordmaster-Chapter 83 : Chapter 83

Chapter 83 — The Light (2)
“Shit!”
“What the hell…?”
“Is that an ogre? Well, it wouldn’t be strange if those Arena clowns tossed in an ogre, considering even orcs are participating!”
The fighters who’d just witnessed a man being split cleanly in two scattered in panic.
Of course, in a match where everyone’s identity was hidden, few would be foolish enough to charge a swordsman capable of slicing through a human body in a single stroke.
As they fled and I was left alone, I flicked the blood from my blade and clicked my tongue.
I had no intention of yelling something idiotic like “Are you still fighters?” or “Come at me bravely!” at their retreating backs. Instead, I felt a small measure of relief.
‘...Still incomplete.’
I lowered my trembling hand, the one that had just swung the sword once.
***
The space where the 「Infinite Duel」 was held was vast. And unlike the usual Arena’s open battlefield, this one resembled an actual cityscape—full of buildings and narrow alleys. If someone wanted to hide, there were countless places to do so.
No wonder the fighters weren’t charging blindly into battle.
Why risk your life when you could ambush others from safety and win easily?
Besides, there was no need to hunt people down.
Victory belonged to the last one standing—nothing more.
There were no bonus points for how many you killed or how fiercely you fought. So unless you were a battle maniac obsessed with the Goddess Refri, or an orc who thought ambushes were cowardly, you had no reason to fight constantly.
Battles drained your strength.
They strained your body, dulled your weapon, and wore down your armor. In a place where you didn’t know when the next fight might come, wasting stamina was foolish. And being injured in a meaningless skirmish was fatal.
Among humans, only Monks and Paladins possessed the resilience to fight endlessly and heal themselves mid-battle. So, after the initial bloodbath, the Infinite Duel began to calm.
I, too, moved with that flow. I’d only killed one person so far—the one I’d cut down with a single strike. The moment that man died, the others around me scattered, wary of my strength.
It was convenient for me. I hadn’t wanted to fight nonstop from the beginning anyway.
I wasn’t a Monk or a Paladin. Even though the Steel Heart greatly aided recovery, it wasn’t omnipotent.
My limits were clear. And the weapons I wielded had their own constraints.「Gale」 put immense strain on the body, and most problematic of all was the issue with 「Light」.
‘...My right arm’s still not recovering properly, even though I used it briefly.’
Its original name was the Dragon Sword. A blade infused with the will of Han’s founding ancestor—and a power far too violent for me to handle.
That ancestor had reached the level of a complete 「Sword Runner」, with three pairs of wings.
It meant I wasn’t qualified to use it yet. And beyond that, 「Light」 had a fundamental flaw.
“Master.”
「What is it?」
“I think... I was too reckless to consume the Dragon Sword.”
「Oh? Why is that?」
“This blade... has no future.”
Yes. The power within 「Light」 consumed the future to overcome the present. For someone like me, who still had a long road ahead, it was ill-suited.
“I’m barely managing it. But I can feel it—if I push too far, a single swing might tear my body apart. Why didn’t you stop me? At this rate, I’ll burn out in a flash, just like its previous owner.”
Though I’d learned to control it bit by bit through its memories and my master’s teachings, the inherent instability of 「Light」 still unnerved me.
At my words, Liam laughed heartily.
「My young descendant.」
“Yes?”
「That’s precisely why it suits you.」
I didn’t understand what he meant.
「Trust me. No other blade could serve as better nourishment for your wings.」
I couldn’t make sense of it—but I simply nodded. Even when cryptic, my master’s words about swords were always correct.
So I smothered my doubts.There was something far more important right now—survival.
“I should find a safer place first.”
「You’re going to hide among those shabby buildings?」
“That’s one option. I’m thinking of securing a spot near the center, where the fence will close in last. The space keeps shrinking—I should claim an advantageous position early.”
「But others will think the same. The center will be crawling with ambushers. You don’t take these fighters for fools, do you?」
“I know. There’ll be plenty of them hiding.”
I slowly closed my eyes.
“But when the fence tightens, even more will gather there. Better to deal with them now, while I’m fresh and uninjured, than later in the chaos.”
Sliding my winter-steel longsword back into its scabbard, I drew two short silver daggers from my thigh.
They gleamed like the fangs of a beast.
“After all, between the coliseum’s duelists and the assassins of the Free City...”
A faint grin tugged my lips.
“...who do you think is better at ambushes?”
Like fangs.
***
The new “fence” introduced by the Arena’s planners was steadily closing in. It was both a mechanism to prevent boredom and a noose tightening around every fighter’s neck.
Fortunately, no one had been foolish enough to die by touching it yet—the rate of contraction was slow, and since it formed a perfect circle, its direction was easy to predict.
Everyone understood instinctively that its center would become the final battlefield. So the closer you got to the center, the fiercer the fighting became.
The sounds of clashing steel and battle cries echoed everywhere.
The black-armored fighters were indistinguishable, tangled together in chaos.
Every fight was a battle for life.
Every strike, desperate.
It was fiercer than anything the Arena usually saw.
But—
“Huff, huff.”
Not everywhere was like that.
“Come out, you coward!”
A voice bellowed, straining its lungs. But no answer came—only a silence thick enough to choke. And silence bred fear.
The fighter’s sword trembled in his hands.
“Fight like a true warrior! Not like some sneaky assassin from the Free City! Show your courage—!”
I glanced at the shouting fool.
“Be brave like the valiant Sword Demon Liam!”
It took all my willpower not to burst out laughing. Instead, I muttered to myself.
‘The brave Sword Demon Liam is standing right in front of you, idiot.’
And why did my nickname keep gaining more adjectives?
“Valiant” and “Sword Demon” didn’t even go together. Shaking my head, I moved in for the kill.
“Hu.”
The Arena’s planners had an odd obsession with detail. They hadn’t built these structures as empty shells—they were fully furnished homes.
Bedrooms with silk nightgowns and dresses, living rooms with furniture, even nurseries with cribs and blankets. It felt disturbingly real. But that also meant plenty of weapons at hand.
『Everything within reach can be a weapon.』
I kicked a wooden cabinet toward him.
He didn’t dodge or block—he simply stood firm, trusting his dwarf-crafted armor.
He didn’t take his eyes off me, trying not to lose track of my position.
As expected.
『A blade isn’t the only weapon. Anything that disrupts the enemy is.』
That’s why I’d thrown it.
“...What—”
The cabinet shattered against his helmet, spilling clothes everywhere.
The scraps and fluttering fabric clung to his visor, blocking his view.
I launched forward instantly. But I couldn’t let my guard down.
He was a 「Sword Walker」—even blind, he could sense my presence through the flow of Mana.
「Paths」 excelled at defense. A solid formation of Paths could be almost impenetrable to another Sword Walker.
Only someone like Seol Yoon, with her genius precision, or a user of 「Gale」 with Sword Runner-level strength, could break it.
I planned to do neither.
Fortunately—
『There was a gap in the Path.』
「Fang」 had a very useful technique.
『It was the gift of a runaway—』
『The talent to always find an escape route.』
A talent to pierce through Paths.
A deadly strike that, even if only for an instant, had once wounded a genius like Seol Yoon.
“...”
In that brief moment, I became an assassin of the Free City. I kicked off the floor, leapt upward, bounced off the wall, twisted midair, and pushed off the ceiling—then dove down from above.
With my body spinning, I drove my dagger straight into his helmet.
Crunch.
The metal cracked, and a choked cry escaped him.
I hadn’t expected to pierce his skull in one blow—The true strike came next. Reeling from the impact, his head snapped back as his body bent forward to protect it.
I slid my leg under his waist, planted my knee in his back, grabbed his head with my left hand—and yanked hard, like a coiling serpent.
His head jerked backward, exposing the unarmored flesh of his neck. I didn’t hesitate.
My right-hand dagger plunged deep into that vulnerable spot.
“Guh—”
A shudder. Then a death rattle. Another life snuffed out.
I shoved the corpse aside. An easy kill.
‘How many are there now?’
I’d slain quite a few.
Moving from building to building near the center, I’d ambushed those hiding inside.
Fighting openly was too risky; stealth and patience kept me alive.
‘They try to ambush too, but when I do it, it’s “cowardly”? Hypocrites.’
I wiped my blade clean and sighed.
These skirmishes weren’t especially dangerous.「Fang」’s adaptability made this kind of fight ideal. Most fighters were skilled with the sword but couldn’t read or manipulate the environment.
I sat on a bed and took a short rest.
Hiding indoors allowed for that—whereas fighting outside drew too much attention and risked a follow-up ambush even after victory.
Best to fight only when conditions were perfect.
“So far, so good. I was worried I’d have to rely on 「Gale」 or 「Light」 too much, but luck’s been on my side.”
「Good. Preserve your strength while you can.」
“...Are you really my master?”
「Why?」
I tilted my head at Liam.
“Because I expected you to say something like, ‘Face them head-on! A Karavan never hides! You grow stronger by clashing!’ or something along those lines.”
「Ordinarily, perhaps. But this is the Infinite Duel, boy.」
Liam smiled faintly—a smile that sent a chill down my spine.
「No matter how you fight, once you reach the end, you’ll taste despair. That’s what the Infinite Duel is.」
“...”
「And besides—」
His laughter echoed ominously.
A surge of dread prickled at my neck. My sixth sense—sharpened by the 「Paths」—screamed a warning. I turned toward it.
The danger was coming from outside the window. From the bright, open sky.
「Even if you don’t reach the end, hardship will come find you anyway.」
I swallowed hard.
「Those who carry the Steel Blood are always followed by trials.」
So much for an easy stretch.
「How does it feel, boy? Exciting, isn’t it?」
Damn it. So much for peace.
‘...No time to rest.’
I drew in a deep breath—until my lungs burned.
‘Better get ready.’
Instead of exhaling, I pressed the air inward—compressing it, feeding the flame within.
『Blades, spears, shields. Rusted armor, arrows blotting out the sky.』
My body began to heat—like steel in a forge.
『Boys and young men thrown into battlefields without knowing why. Lives turned to dust, soaked in blood and mud.』
The Steel within me burned.
『And they—became stars.』
***
The roaring cheers from earlier were gone. Now, the Arena was silent. Every spectator had their mouths shut, eyes wide, and their throats dry.
Why?
“...What the hell is that?”
No, it wasn’t because the organizers told them to be quiet.
The audience of the Steel City didn't quiet.
This silence was born of pure shock.
“Can that even be called a duel...?”
Someone murmured, dazed. Many silently agreed. Because what unfolded below wasn’t a duel.
It was a one-sided slaughter.
A hunt.
Seol Yoon, sitting among the spectators, agreed inwardly.
‘...It’s like they released a wolf among sheep.’
She had come to watch Arhan with relaxed curiosity—but now, her face was grave.
Could Arhan possibly win against that? No—winning wasn’t the issue.
Could he survive?
Then another thought struck her.
‘If it were me down there... would I survive?’
She couldn’t answer.
She could resist—yes.
She wouldn’t die easily. But to endure to the end? She didn’t know. Even with her enlightenment, her spread wings, and her deadly 「Thousandfold Change」—she wasn’t sure.
She furrowed her brow and looked again at the coliseum. There, among the black-armored fighters, one figure sat lazily against a wall— yawning, half-asleep. And before him—
‘What kind of monster…?’
The bodies of countless fighters were piled like a mountain.
As Seol Yoon watched anxiously, one person among the crowd laughed softly.
“Oh ho.”
A man hiding his ash-gray hair under a hood watched with amusement.
The Iron Prince, Ian Cherville, spoke.
“Carlos, am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”
“Yes, Your Highness. That sword—belongs to one of the Great Five Houses. Theirs.”
“Indeed. You can hide a face behind cheap armor, but not the shine of noble blood. Ah... to see it here of all places.”
Ian Cherville rested his chin on his hand and smiled.
“How curious. Why would a descendant of those lazy nobles come to such a lowly stage?”