24 – Relay Dalian (3)

The moment I remembered Elfin’s name, I decided how to fight.

‘It was amazing, Elfin.’

I was definitely trying to raise Elfin to be an assassin.

In the first place, assassination was what I was best at, so the only thing I could boast about teaching was assassination skills.

However, Elfin picked out only what he needed from the assassin’s skills and then established his own fighting style.

Most of Elfin’s great achievements were due to her talent and hard work, and her teachings from me only contributed to it.

‘That… Berserker? Barbarian? I don’t know what it is.’

What should I say about Elfin? She was a child whose very existence seemed contradictory.

She was born with the gift of a necromancer, aside from being a pure-blooded elf who loves life.

She has a face that seems to handle a bow, she learned assassination techniques, but she used to use a fighting style that she fought without sparing herself like a berserker.

By the time Elfin entered her late teens, it was to the point that I learned how to fight as a warrior rather than an assassin from Elfin.

‘I remember. Elfin’s fighting style.’

Things I know but Justina doesn’t,

There were countless numbers, but one of them was the elfin fighting style.

Justina would often come with Liwin to watch Elfin’s combat training, but that was only in the early to mid-10 years.

Near the end of their 10 years together, she used to play with Liwin instead of following her training when the elfin fighting style was established.

‘If you don’t fight as usual and borrow Elfin’s way….’

However, this method was not without problems.

As I said before, Elfin’s style is like a berserk who doesn’t spare himself.

On the other hand, I tend to use my sword as secretly and calmly as possible.

It’s not safe to say that it’s the opposite, and this body doesn’t have the stamina or strength of Elfin’s.

At most, if you defeat one guy, that’s the end, surrender immediately.

I had to give up my desire to win 30 consecutive victories by myself while arranging my stamina in the original way as much as possible.

‘I have to throw it away. I must throw it away.’

It was not the time to be arguing about greed or pride.

If you don’t care, today might be the last day you’ll see the sunlight in your life.

Nevertheless, among these students, I could not completely give up my desire to stand out like Nangjungjichu, so I carefully watched the couplets one after another.

‘That friend plays a bit?’

The boy who stood out among them was Cornette Martinez.

Even 500 years ago, when I lived, the warriors of the Southern Desert radiated valor, calling themselves warriors of the sun.

I could find that same skill and courage in that boy.

In that moment, I realized what to use my one fighting chance.

‘Assassins always aim for the strongest enemies.’

Assassins benefit more from defeating a general than from dealing with a dozen rookie recruits.

Not to mention the reward, the trust as an assassin also rises.

There are bad points because of the rise in reputation, but anyway, it is the same everywhere that catching a big player gives a bigger impact.

It is the same whether it is the world of assassins or the school where teenagers gather.

‘If you can only fight once with the Elfin fighting style, it would be better to at least catch the strongest one here.’

This is how I came to deal with the Cornette.

Of course, it’s possible that Professor Perkin didn’t point at me until the end, but only at the other students, and someone knocked down the exhausted cornet.

Maybe Lady Luck was on my side, but that didn’t happen, and I raised my sword against the nearly intact cornet.

“Haaa!”

It rushes forward, spewing out a little too much murder that it has habitually not revealed at all.

It is said that he has more practical experience compared to other students, but compared to me, the cornet, who is not even a bird’s blood, manages to block it with an axe.

A look of bewilderment flashes across his expression.

Perhaps the country didn’t quite understand humans until they just clashed their weapons.

‘It can’t be helped.’

There is a saying that if you know your enemy and know yourself, you will not be in danger even if you fight a hundred times.

Cornette may know something about herself, but she knows nothing about me.

On the other hand, I have a rough understanding of Cornet’s skills while watching the relay match.

It may be unfair, but Professor Perkin’s intention was to make it difficult to win a streak, including this in the first place.

“Awesome!”

For that matter, Cornet did a pretty good job with my sword.

Utilizing his excellent eyesight, he caught the opponent’s gaps and stabbed them with the tip of the blade each time, then brought the ax blade back.

Every time cast iron collides with each other, a small spark arises, raising the temperature so that the firewood called battle burns even more.

The higher the temperature, the higher the stabbing speed with the sword.

If the stabbing speed increases, the load on my body also increases.

“Sir…”

My joints hurt as if they would fall out.

The body cannot follow the commands of the head.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa?!”

But it was the cornet that screamed.

That’s right, cornet couldn’t keep up with my head or body.

Putting his right foot behind him as a firm support on the ground, he stretched out his left foot forward, constantly moving forward, forward, and forward one more step.

Swing, cut, stab, stab, stab again.

Sword strikes with the most concise attack are like stitching.

I try to block it with a wide blade of an axe, as if hitting hundreds of needles, but I can’t stop them all.

It is also inevitable that small scars are engraved all over the body.

‘Originally, we wouldn’t have fought like this.’

A non-lethal attack is simply pushed back by the number of times, and the expression to get even one hit is a no-brainer.

As an assassin, every single shot must be lethal, and every attack must be capable of killing the opponent.

In that respect, this fighting style is a disqualification for an assassin who only aims to kill the opponent.

However, an elfin who truly enjoys fighting would have said this.

– ‘Kyaa, isn’t this much more fun?!’

Elfin did not wield his sword solely to kill.

It was different from me, who was obsessed with negative emotions such as hatred, revenge, and resentment.

Elfin thought that each other’s weapons contained emotions, and said that fighting like that could be a kind of conversation.

When I think about it now, it might just be that I liked it because the catharsis I felt when fighting was addictive.

At least at that time, I was greatly shocked by Elfin’s words.

Knock off-

‘Oops. I almost missed it while thinking about Elfin.’

After vision, hearing.

As soon as I heard the cornet gnashing my teeth, I threw my upper body back.

It is not easy to accurately capture this grinding sound in this crowded space where the sound of steel clashing, all sorts of natural sounds, students cheering, or shouts run amok.

However, my hearing has mastered the discernment function of excluding what is excluded and accepting only what is necessary.

Then, based on the fragments of information obtained, I reconstruct the situation and predict what will unfold in the future battle.

‘A big one will come.’

You might be thinking what’s wrong with this grinding sound.

It’s not strange to grind your molars in anger, resentment, regret, and annoyance if you keep getting pushed back during battle.

However, if you relate it to the character of the cornet I observed, you can go one step further than just being angry.

Cornet Martinez, eager to prove himself.

Wouldn’t that kind of person be helpless just because he’s pushed back a bit?

Somehow… Even if it becomes a big self-blame, he will try to make an important victory. The judgment is completed only with the sound of

‘S sharpening, the axe as a weapon, and the evidence of the cornet’s hot-tempered personality.

‘The fact that the side that has been pushed back in battle grinds their teeth means that they will take an unreasonable counterattack since they can no longer just be hit.’

Unsurprisingly, Cornet took care of parrying my thrusting attack with his bare body and swung the ax he was holding with both hands.

Whoop!

Unbelievable that it was the sound of an ax cutting through the air, a strong wind blew.

The blade of the ax cut in half a space only two spans away from my face.

However, such a large movement inevitably comes with recoil.

As he held the ax with both hands and swung it while twisting his upper body, his stomach was completely defenseless.

‘If I stab you, I’ll die?’

It casually determines whether the opponent is alive or dead.

It was a kind of occupational disease. I just have a sense of where I’m going to die.

If the opponent wasn’t just a classmate and was an assassination target, he would have stabbed his stomach without the slightest hesitation, pulled out his intestines, and spilled blood.

As a warrior, not an assassin, it was different now that I was training and sparring.

f*ck!

“Huh?!”

I kicked myself in the stomach with one foot instead of tearing open and taking out the intestines.

Because he leaned back sharply and even lifted one leg off the ground, it wouldn’t be strange at all if he fell.

However, it is different if you have a sense of balance that has already reached maturity.

It almost lies down, so even if only one foot touches the ground, it doesn’t fall.

“hahahaha!”

Unsurprisingly, Cornette fell backwards as soon as he was hit by my kick.

It must have been quite a blow, and he couldn’t get up again.

Professor Perkin watched the situation for a few seconds, then he raised his hand in my direction and declared my victory.

“Deneve Rehinar’s Victory!”

It felt good to win, but I wasn’t feeling very well.

Not only did the joints all over his body creak, but he also felt severely exhausted.

To the extent that there is no force at all on the tips of the fingers or toes.

During the fight with Cornet, he dragged on for quite a while in the part where he competed for the sum, so he had a chronic physical problem that he had expected.

“Well, it’s a relay match, so from now on, Deneb Rehnar will deal with the next student. The next batter…….”

However, he hadn’t declared surrender yet, so Professor Perkin tried to call the next opponent while checking my physical condition.

My pride hurts a bit, but if I continue to fight like this, I’ll definitely collapse.

At least for now, it was the right decision to admit what I had to admit and back off.

“…… Hmm.”

Then my excellent hearing picked up a strange hum.

A small voice among the numerous students was too loud.

Maybe it’s because the subject is so big that I can’t even dare to imagine it.

‘Justina?’

Justina was still looking at me with an incomprehensible expression.

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Her low-set eyes and fluttering eyelashes seemed to be cutting and evaluating me.

If at least they had noticed that I was a Dane, I would have looked so excited and not so ambiguous. How did I get over it safely?

‘…… What?’

It was then.

In a split second, I realized that I was under some kind of spell.

It wasn’t normal magic or mental magic, and it wasn’t weakening magic either.

A sensation I had rarely felt in my previous life.

Yes, this is definitely what I felt when I was on a mission with a fellow resistance wizard and he cast a protection spell on me…….

‘No way?’

I felt the strength return to my whole body.

It wasn’t just that. The stamina overflowed from head to toe, which seemed to be enough even if he sparred ten times in a row.

It wasn’t that my strength improved or my speed increased. Just stamina.

However, it was self-evident how much activity I would be able to show with just this blessing of physical strength or recovery from fatigue.

And I thought the caster of this protection magic would know too.

It’s not enough to be satisfied with just one battle.

I’m going to look at it again and again, and look at it until I’m sure.

He said he would find even the smallest piece of evidence that I was a Dane.

Quick, Queek, Queek…….

Even though I’m sure I’ve recovered, I glanced in the direction of Justina, creaking the joints in my neck that seemed to have rusted in the meantime.

‘Again.’

Her blue eyes seemed to be saying that to me.

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