novelraw Chapter 32 : Paul vs Robin
Chapter 32 : Paul vs Robin
Chapter 32: Paul vs Robin
Tatata-tat!
Robin’s speed, now that he had put down his other luggage and held only the sword, was faster than usual.
With even the brazier he had been carrying on both arms now set aside, the speed at which he swung his sword rivaled that of an adult.
Kaang!
Steel struck steel, scattering sparks.
Paul received Robin’s blade using only his right hand while his left arm remained clasped behind his back.
Undeterred by Paul’s relaxed attitude, Robin continued to press forward with relentless attacks.
Kang! Kaang!
“Truly unbelievable.”
The surprise spreading across Paul’s once-calm face was unmistakable.
“When you followed us, you couldn’t even hold a sword properly.”
Robin let Paul’s muttered words slip past one ear.
He’s looking down on me.
Every thrust Robin made—though refined from his recent training—was blocked one after another.
Even with his improved strength and speed, he still couldn’t compare to Paul.
The tide of the fight was gradually turning.
Think. What can I do now?
When his horizontal slash was stopped, Robin leapt back to create distance.
Paul rested his sword behind his neck and smiled faintly.
“That should be enough.”
“It’s not over yet.”
Seeing Robin’s blazing determination, Paul once again aimed his sword at him.
“If you’ve nothing more to show, the result is already decided. You know that.”
“I still have something to show.”
Robin gripped his longsword in his right hand and drew a dagger from his clothes.
Felix had sharpened the blade on a whetstone, making it fairly keen.
Paul’s eyes widened at the sight, and a smile tugged at his lips.
“Right. You were there too, in the Mercenary King’s tomb.”
Paul freed his left hand from behind his back and took his sword in both hands.
The longsword was heavy for Robin to hold one-handed; his arm began to tremble.
It was still too much for him to handle a sword with both hands.
“I wonder if Calimacos was right.”
Robin drew in a deep breath.
He had no idea what Paul meant.
He pulled his right hand in tight and extended his left hand forward.
A stance meant to stabilize the distribution of power.
Create an opening with the dagger.
Kaang!
Robin’s dagger shot out like a snake toward Paul’s nape.
It was the dagger technique Bishak had used.
Paul blocked it lightly.
Kagagagak!
As soon as the dagger was stopped, Robin brought his longsword down from above.
Though lacking strength, his stance held firm.
Clashing with Paul’s weapon, Robin’s blade was stopped at the crossguard.
Immediately, he lifted his left-hand dagger from below in an upward slash.
Aiming for the jaw, the dagger forced Paul to step back.
It was a technique from the orphanage director Timmy.
I have to keep pushing.
The tilted balance of the fight was slowly shifting back.
Of all the weapons Robin had learned so far, the dagger was the one he was most familiar with.
He compensated for the longsword’s shortcomings with dagger techniques.
The smile on Paul’s face gradually faded.
His gaze as he received Robin’s attacks grew sharper and more serious.
“We really picked up a tiger cub.”
Paul lifted his sword above his right shoulder.
That stance…
A simple diagonal slash.
Simple, but its power was anything but ordinary.
From what Robin had seen through accelerated perception, it was an unblockable strike.
Robin chose to evade.
A large movement created an opening afterward.
Just as he tried to slip to Paul’s right—
The sword that should have descended suddenly halted midway.
What is that.
The blade that should have followed a straight diagonal line veered off its path.
Robin, mid-evade, could only be stunned.
Even in slowed time, Paul’s sword rushed toward him.
This is possible?
Robin dropped the dagger from his left hand and grasped the flats of his longsword to block Paul’s strike.
The impact was tremendous. Even deflecting the blow, Robin toppled backward onto the ground.
“Ugh.”
Both hands tingled sharply.
Standing in place, Paul spoke.
“It feels like a waste to just let you go. If you learn properly, you’ll be worth watching.”
Robin steadied his breath and assessed the situation.
Paul had sheathed his sword and was comparing Robin’s dagger with his own.
It was a clear defeat for Robin.
It was, perhaps, the natural outcome.
It made no sense for Robin—still not fully grown—to defeat a veteran mercenary.
Even so… I still have something I haven’t shown.
“I lost.”
“You admit it cleanly. Don’t be too discouraged. You’re strong enough that no one would call you a kid. You’ll become even stronger.”
Paul approached and brushed the dust from Robin’s clothes.
Robin extended his hand as if asking for Paul’s dagger along with his own.
“What is it?”
“Could I ask for one more spar?”
“Robin, aren’t you leaving today? If you’re going to meet Baron Tefir, then fine.”
“No, I’m leaving. Please—just one last time.”
Resigned, Paul handed Robin the dagger.
Seeing Robin grip a dagger in each hand, Paul formed a subtle smile.
No words were needed between them.
Chang!
Paul blocked Robin’s attack with minimal movement.
Robin’s hands worked busily to break through Paul’s defense.
The sound of metal clashing filled the valley.
“You’re plenty impressive. But you’re still not strong enough to beat me.”
The ringing rhythm of steel grew faster.
Even so, Paul’s defense didn’t falter.
Bishak’s snake-like dagger.
Timmy’s irregular dagger.
None of it worked.
“Don’t you have anything to show me besides that petty thug’s daggerplay?”
Was he enjoying this?
Robin sensed a strange yearning in Paul’s expression.
To answer it, he exposed the hidden technique he had held back.
Spinning his wrists, he made both daggers rotate in circles.
Slow, but steady in trajectory.
The daggers that had been tracing circles now crossed one another in a figure eight.
Paul’s eyes widened greatly as he watched.
“From here on, it’ll be different.”
“Really?”
Paul adjusted his grip on his sword.
Pflug.
Both hands lowered to his hips, the tip of his sword fixed on Robin.
His front knee bent, his back foot stretched far behind, grounding his center.
A stance fundamental to unifying offense and defense.
As expected, no openings.
Then he would draw one out.
In the instant Robin’s dagger and Paul’s longsword collided.
It struck half a beat later than Paul had anticipated.
For the first time, confusion flickered across Paul’s face.
Robin’s attack continued as he bent his waist and drove in low.
Paul tried to break Robin’s stance with force, but it was futile.
Robin’s attack was a feint.
He predicted Paul’s reaction and slipped out of range.
“Ha-ha… did you grow again already?”
“This isn’t the end.”
With daggers instead of a longsword, Robin’s hands felt as light and free as if wings had sprouted.
The dagger strokes, once like a gentle breeze, grew faster and faster.
A gale strong enough to make one tighten their collar surged forth.
Robin’s hands moved so quickly an ordinary person would struggle to follow them.
“More! Show me more!”
Though vicious for a child’s swordsmanship, Paul—who received it—was by no means ordinary.
He looked excited, as if receiving a long-awaited gift.
It was a sight unimaginable of him on any normal day.
Paul tried to block Robin’s attacks, but Robin didn’t falter even when stopped once or twice. He extended attack after attack without pause.
When Paul attempted to break the flow with a counterattack, Robin dodged fluidly.
The scale of the duel tipped toward Robin.
Chae-chae-chae-chae-chae-chaeng!
As if dozens of blacksmiths were hammering at once, the clang of steel screamed in every direction.
Anyone watching would have clicked their tongue at the high level of the clash.
My strength is fading.
He couldn’t maintain this speed forever.
And there was no telling whether Paul had even revealed his full strength yet.
Robin had to choose.
A battle of attrition, or a decisive gambit.
His deliberation was brief.
I’ll unleash everything—straight to the final movement.
The daggers that had been drawing figure eights, confusing Paul’s vision, shifted.
Their trajectories grew even more complex.
A deep smile carved itself onto Paul’s lips.
“Calimacos, you were right.”
Paul had been adapting to Robin’s speed.
Just when he thought he was getting used to it—the daggers stopped.
No. They hadn’t stopped.
A thrust shot from that very spot, straight toward Paul’s eyes.
The blade had remained so still that Paul mistakenly thought it halted completely.
He jerked his waist back to avoid it.
At the same time he swung his sword upward.
“Dangerous…!”
Without realizing it, he had put a hint of sincerity in his voice.
There was no sensation of hitting flesh—it was a relief.
Paul sprang upright with the recoil of a coiled spring.
“That stance…”
The distance between Robin and Paul was barely two meters.
If Paul thrust his longsword, it would easily reach.
But Robin’s daggers wouldn’t reach from here.
Yet Robin’s hands and arms never stopped moving.
From the moment their spar began, he hadn’t stayed still even for a heartbeat.
Maintaining that acceleration, his daggers felt unmistakably threatening even to Paul.
“So it’s real. I’m seeing the Mercenary King’s swordsmanship with my own eyes.”
In Paul’s gaze toward Robin, tension and excitement coexisted.
His lips curled, almost joyous, but his eyes were earnest.
The hands gripping his sword trembled slightly, as if moved.
“Come.”
Robin sprang forward.
Their blades tangled in midair.
For this moment alone, Paul moved his sword sincerely—as a swordsman.
After blocking countless attacks, Paul found himself facing the deep-set gaze in Robin’s eyes.
Before Paul’s blow could land—
Robin crossed both arms.
“Take this.”
All the speed he had accumulated exploded in a single instant.
His right hand toward Paul’s sword.
His left toward Paul’s wrist.
Kagaaaaang!
With a vicious crash, both blades stopped.
“……”
Robin’s right-hand dagger was blocked by Paul’s sword.
His left-hand dagger was stopped by the crossguard.
In that fleeting instant, Paul had adjusted the position of his sword.
Meanwhile, the tip of Paul’s blade had come to rest beside Robin’s neck.
“Phewww, I’m still far from it. I lost again.”
Robin admitted defeat.
He withdrew his daggers, but Paul stood still as if he had turned to stone.
His eyes were filled with shock.
“No, I lost. In swordsmanship, I lost.”
With those words, Paul sheathed his sword.
As the blade slid into the scabbard, one side of the crossguard fell off.
Paul let out a hollow laugh.
“I should be thanking you—for showing me that swordsmanship.”
“You’ve been talking like you know something. What are you talking about?”
“The cave near Stonegoth. The countless writings and drawings on the wall. You copied them, right?”
“Yes.”
“You know that wasn’t an ordinary cave. That place is the Mercenary King’s tomb.”
“Mercenary King? What’s that?”
When Robin tilted his head and asked, Paul gave a short snort.
He didn’t even know how incredible the swordsmanship he had displayed was.
“He was unbelievably strong. I’d like to say more, but there’s no time.”
Just as Paul said, the sun was dropping below the horizon.
There was no more time to delay.
Robin quickly prepared to depart.
“For someone to earn a title like ‘king,’ he must have been amazing.”
“His very existence is unclear. One day, he vanished without a trace.”
It was an interesting story.
As Paul helped gather Robin’s belongings, he continued to stoke his curiosity.
“It’s a well-spread tale among mercenaries. You’ll hear it easily.”
“He must be quite famous.”
Paul nodded.
Robin, backpack strapped tight, bowed his head toward Paul.
“Don’t tell anyone about what happened today. And don’t reveal that swordsmanship carelessly.”
“Even if I told them, no one would believe it.”
“After traveling with you, I’m not so sure anymore.”
Robin couldn’t help but laugh at Paul’s worried advice.
It was similar to the warning he had once heard from Brandok.
“Thank you for everything. Please thank the others for me too.”
“Alright. See you again.”
Their farewell was not long.
It wasn’t as if they would never see each other again.
With the map in hand, Robin walked off with the red sunset at his back.
“Calimacos would faint if he knew what just happened.”
Watching Robin march forward with confidence, Paul gathered the dishes he had finished washing.