Volume 3: Chapter 180 – Soar to Freedom (Elks Clan) (2/3)
"Ahaha! This is good! There's so many to pick from!"
Laughter sounded as blood spurted about. Each time Vine swung her sword, screams would sound and corpses would rise.
"...Clan leader, your bad habit is showing."
The gnome warrior, Berk, frowned, but he continued to support Vine from afar, shooting down the foes that entered Vine's blind spot with his magic.
The sharpened rocks were difficult to dodge in the dark of the night, but worse than that was the fact that even if one did manage to dodge them, the only thing waiting for them was Vine's evil blade.
All that the eye could see, all that the blade could reach, all were dragged into the depths of the abyss by the evil blade of the Red Moon's clan leader.
"Die! Die! Die! Ahahaha!"
"The clan leader's opened a path. Now, go!"
At Berk's behest, Pale ran straight ahead.
"Shurei, Rue, cover me."
Pale used her senses to find her foes within the dark of the night and shot at them with her small bow. With every arrow nocked, screams would resound. This was the skill of the sylph that surpassed even the precision of Berk's rock bullets.
"Hah?"
While Vine was happily cutting one person down after another, something managed to stop her, causing her to cry out in displeasure. As sparks flashed in the dark of the night, it became apparent that the one who stopped her was none other than the eastern swordsman who had named himself Shunrai.
"You look like you're having fun. How about partnering with me?"
"Don't put on airs around me! I'll tear you into pieces!"
Vine shook off the flesh bits and blood clinging to her blade, then she sheathed it, smiled fiercely, and rushed up to the eastern swordsman.
In response, Shunrai slightly inclined his scimitar over his shoulders and lowered his gravity, allowing him to move anytime he wished.
For a moment, there was silence between them.
But it was only for a moment.
"SEI!" [1]
"SHAA!" [1]
And in the next moment, Shunrai and Vine cried out, sparks erupting as their blades crossed. When they saw that they failed to kill their foe, they swung their swords once more.
Vine's evil blade grazed Shunrai's nose, while Shunrai's scimitar cut several strands of Vine's long black hair.
Vine was shorter compared to Shunrai, so she aimed for his feet, but Shunrai didn't show any intention of defending his feet as he took a step in and prepared to cut down Vine from above.
Vine clicked her tongue as she sensed death, then she brought back her sword and – relying on her instincts – jumped to the side to avoid the descending blade.
In response, Shunrai swept with his sword, releasing an attack that was akin to a powerful wind. If that were to hit, Vine's head would surely burst like a pomegranate, but as revenge for earlier, Vine jumped over his head instead.
In a contest of swords, one stakes his life in a moment. Sword technique, strength, vision, guts, speed... Even if one's opponent surpasses oneself on all accounts, one must never doubt his sword, for to do so, is to accept defeat.
