The Genius Son-in-law of the Swordmaster Household—Blessed by Authority

Chapter 130 : Sword Fiend (3)

Sword Fiend (3)

The Sword Fiend took Ian to his underground training hall.

Even though it was underground, the training hall was considerably spacious.

"Are you prepared?"

The Sword Fiend spoke, facing Ian from a distance.

"I'll warn you once more: my curse is not something to be taken lightly. The only reason I'm able to stay as a guest at the Heavenly Sword household is thanks to the curses of this Demon Sword. You should be prepared not only to risk your life, but your very soul may be tainted as well."

"......"

― Crack. Crack.

Ian silently warmed up, his expression unconcerned.

Behind his goblin mask, the Sword Fiend's eyes grew cold.

"If your resolve is halfhearted, you can still back out now. In that case, I'll let you off with just one of the demon swords you offered."

—Heh.

Ian's lips curled into a slight smile.

"They call you the Sword Fiend... I expected someone vicious and frightening, but you're quite kind. You're more worried about your opponent before even fighting."

"... Ha."

The Sword Fiend let out a snort.

"Kid. I'm not worried about you—I'm worried about myself. If I break the Heavenly Sword household's precious toy, I'll have trouble coming out of it unscathed."

Ian grinned, showing his teeth.

"So kind, and yet so timid. What kind of fiend is that?"

"......"

The Sword Fiend quietly raised his hand and grabbed the sword hilt at his waist.

"Seeing how you keep answering with nonsense, you really are going through with this."

"If I weren't planning on it, I wouldn't have come here in the first place."

"Alright. Then let's not waste each other's time."

― Shing!

The Sword Fiend unsheathed his sword in a single motion.

The blade, with its sinister crimson ripples, looked as menacing as could be.

"I wonder how many moves you'll last. It'll probably end before we even get to two."

Ian finished stretching and stood in proper posture.

"We'll see. I think I can manage ten moves—maybe even twenty."

"Heh."

The Sword Fiend snorted again.

"Your attitude certainly confirms you're just a kid. Cocky brat. I was going to go easy on you, but today, as your senior, I'll teach you a valuable lesson: I recognize you possess power beyond common sense, but there are things in this world that no amount of power can overcome."

"As much as you like. Like I said before, I won't resist or defend myself at all—I'll accept your curse as it is, no purification, no defense."

"Hmph. You'll regret those words after the first move."

The Sword Fiend's curse was powerful enough to affect the strongest beings in this world.

And yet he was offering to take it without resistance?

There was simply no way he could endure it unscathed.

Whatever Ian's true nature, whatever powers he had hidden.

Who knew if he'd withstand the first move, but by the third, he'd collapse in disgrace.

If he lasted five moves without losing consciousness, he'd be exceptional, but if exposed to more than that, even the strongest will would succumb or die.

The Sword Fiend's curse could wound not just the body and mind, but magic power and soul, even severing the connection of life itself.

Even if the being in front of him were a mythical beast of ten thousand years, accepting his curse without any resistance would mean certain death.

'Still, since the young Heavenly Sword Lord household cherishes this kid, I have no intention of killing him.'

He only intended to teach him a harsh lesson he would never forget.

From excruciating physical pain as if every nerve in the body was twisted, to mental agony like the brain was rotting away.

He wanted to show that there existed such irrational power in the world.

"Here is the first move."

—Click.

The Sword Fiend leveled the tip of his sword at Ian.

The sword's name was Juroon.

It was the red, rippled blade the Sword Fiend used most often.

Its ability: to amplify the power of curses imbued within.

—Sching...

The Sword Fiend drew yet another dagger with his other hand.

The dagger in his left hand was called Dolosson, Thorn of Pain.

True to its name, one stab could make even an ogre wail in agony; it was a demon sword that inflicted excruciating pain.

If the curse of Dolosson was amplified with Juroon...

The effect would be at least doubled.

The pain would flood in, as if the bones themselves were being twisted and crushed.

It would be hard to even breathe properly.

This very first move might end the bet then and there.

Even if Ian collapsed or fainted right away, the Sword Fiend wouldn't sneer.

Dolosson's excruciating curse was fundamentally unbearable by living beings.

Doubling that with Juroon, fainting on the spot was hardly surprising.

—Bang!

The Sword Fiend fired Dolosson's curse amplified through Juroon.

—Sssssss!

The curse flew toward Ian like a snake gliding through the air.

—Swooosh!

With a grotesque, writhing tail, the curse burrowed into Ian's chest.

"Hmm."

Ian looked down for a moment at his chest, now imbued with the curse.

"So this is how it feels."

He then calmly raised his head again.

"...... What!"

The Sword Fiend's shoulders flinched.

His expression was hidden by the goblin mask, but his brow must have been deeply furrowed.

"H-How...!?"

He had unleashed a curse of pain so intense that it wouldn't be strange if Ian collapsed on the spot.

Yet Ian not only didn't fall, he didn't even show the slightest sign of pain.

'W-What the...! This has never happened before! Not once!'

The Sword Fiend lowered Juroon and stared at Ian in confusion.

'The curse took hold. That much is certain.'

The curse of Dolosson was swimming through Ian's body here and there.

'But how...?'

How could he seem so unaffected?

'Could it be...?'

Was it a body that couldn't feel pain?

In that case, Dolosson's curse might not be effective.

What was certain is, it wasn't being endured through sheer willpower.

Even the Heavenly Sword Lord couldn't withstand Dolosson's curse so nonchalantly.

At the very least, even he would grit his teeth or twitch, then expel the curse with overwhelming aura.

But Ian showed no such signs.

He wasn't in the least bit pained, nor did he use aura to expel the curse.

He just stood there calmly. Not rubbing his chest, doing nothing at all.

"You can't feel pain?"

The Sword Fiend asked bluntly.

"No. What kind of ridiculous thing is that? I'm human just like anyone else, of course I feel pain."

"Then how are you so unscathed? The curse clearly took hold."

"Who knows? Maybe your demon sword's defective?"

"Nonsense!"

The curse had clearly been unleashed.

And as always, the Sword Fiend felt the same curse afflict his own body after using Dolosson.

"Hmmm..."

The Sword Fiend's eyes narrowed.

'It doesn't seem like he's pulling any tricks.'

It wasn't an illusion spell.

This annex was plastered with security techniques; casting illusion spells was impossible here.

'Nor is it an artifact.'

If it were, he would have felt mana.

'What in the world...?'

He thought Ian might be able to endure a few moves, but never expected him to look this unaffected!

—Gulp...!

The Sword Fiend swallowed hard without realizing it, tense.

He had never encountered an opponent immune to his power.

He felt, for the first time in his life, a creeping sense of powerlessness welling up from deep inside his chest.

'No. That can't be.'

The Sword Fiend denied it.

"So, you must have something up your sleeve. Some kind of supernatural ability that numbs your senses or something."

"Who knows?"

"Very well, here comes the second move. Immediately."

"Yes. Please come."

—Vmmm...!

—Vvvmm!

The Sword Fiend put Dolosson back into a subspace artifact and drew a new demon sword.

This blade was twisted in a spiral like a spring—structured such that it couldn't possibly cut or stab.

—Wobble wobble.

It even looked like it was wobbling.

This demon sword induced extreme nausea in opponents.

—Bang!

Again, the Sword Fiend amplified the effect with Juroon and fired.

"Hmm."

Ian was unaffected again.

"Ggh...!"

The Sword Fiend gritted his teeth unconsciously.

"Eight left now, right?"

"In... Incredible..."

The Sword Fiend feigned composure as he pulled out another demon sword.

'So, anything affecting sensory perception is completely ineffective.'

Then, it was time for a demon sword that inflicted emotional pain.

—Bang!

Again, the effect was amplified with Juroon and fired.

"It's a strange sensation."

Still, Ian looked completely unfazed.

"Urgh...!"

The Sword Fiend immediately unleashed another curse.

—Bang!

A curse that bound the dantian and mana circuit with chains, blocking the flow of aura.

—Shrug.

Ian only shrugged his shoulders.

"Grr...!"

Growing agitated, the Sword Fiend fired a much stronger curse this time.

—Bang!

A curse that disrupted the link between flesh and soul.

"Interesting."

But Ian didn't even waver, assessing the curse as if he were some epicure.

"I recognize each one. But none of them hurt at all. If I become more accustomed, I might even be able to store these in my dantian."

"... What?"

The Sword Fiend was appalled.

He almost dropped Juroon out of surprise.

He gripped the sword and clenched his teeth.

'W-What...! This is impossible!'

He had believed he was the only person in the world who could withstand curses and remain, if not unaffected, then at least alive.

There was good reason.

The Sword Fiend's homeland, the Hamma Tribe's sacred ground, was reduced to ashes by demonic humans, and the Hamma Tribe was wholly massacred.

He, Silence Doomraven, was the sole survivor who barely escaped that ruthless slaughter.

He was sure there were no other survivors.

If there had been, he would surely have met them by now.

Over 200 years had passed since, during which he sharpened his blade of vengeance and became a consummate grandmaster.

If another survivor remained, surely they would have sought him out by now.

'So how...!?'

What exactly was this man before him?

Was he somehow another Hamma Tribesman?

If not, nothing could explain the phenomenon before his eyes.

"H-How...?"

He blurted it out almost unconsciously.

"How are you so unscathed?"

The Sword Fiend slid Juroon back into its sheath.

"... If you tell me, I'll concede this wager as my loss."

If he lost the wager, he'd forfeit one of the demon swords he'd painstakingly collected in order to avenge himself against the demonic humans, but this was something worth sacrificing a sword for; he had to ask.

Try as he might to deduce it, the Sword Fiend could come to no answer.

There was no trace of magic power, so it wasn't an artifact or divine power.

It certainly wasn't illusion magic, and as curses absolutely didn't affect the Sword Fiend, it couldn't be witchcraft.

'How in the world...?'

Had someone developed a technique capable of perfectly countering curses without his knowledge?

Or—could it be that the man before him was a descendant of the Hamma Tribe?

The long-shot hope he had been searching for all this time... Was this a fellow tribesman?

'No... Don't jump to conclusions. I can't assume anything yet.'

Whatever the truth, he had to ask.

Ian possessed some means to nullify the Sword Fiend's curses.

He had to know what it was, so he could be prepared if the situation ever arose again.

"Hmm... Well, that sounds like a bad bargain for me."

But Ian refused.

"For the next five moves, you can curse me even further—I'm confident I'll hold out just fine. There's no real need for me to reveal my secret. For me, it's simply better to keep receiving your curses and keep my secret hidden."

"......"

The Sword Fiend couldn't refute this.

Ian was right.

"... Then. If I want your secret, I'll have to offer something more in return."

The Sword Fiend pondered.

Just what would he need to offer in order to learn Ian's secret?

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

Ian is master of ragebaiting...

Also, it seems Sword Fiend has a beef with demonic humans

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】