Chapter 33
The corners of the Chairman’s mouth finally lifted.
If this had been a real fight against an enemy, he would never have fallen for such provocation.
But right now, this was a stage to gauge the child’s abilities.
He already knew. After crossing spears two or three times, he had sensed that this child harbored no malice or intent to kill.
Through the edge of her strikes, he could tell—it was a fight started only to prove her skills.
She must have lunged first with her weapon because she knew that if she had asked politely, he would not have permitted it.
Her courage was remarkable.
And her skill—matching evenly with swordsmanship he had trained for more than ten years—was praiseworthy.
Moreover, he could tell this spear technique was not some acquired mastery skill, but something forged and polished by her own effort.
Having trained the sword for years and dueling countless hunters, he could distinguish between power gained by a skill and power carved out through blood and sweat.
The only puzzling thing was where she had learned such spear techniques.
Against him, she seemed to hold back somewhat, yet her spearwork was exceedingly aggressive.
It was specialized in killing and hunting. Either she lunged straight for the solar plexus with the smallest of movements, or distracted attention with maximum flourish.
Captain Park Woo-joon believed she had awakened only a few days ago, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
Still, there must have been a reason she hid it deliberately.
He could feel it in her spearwork—her character.
She had a mischievous side, yes, but at her core she was good. She respected and cared for her opponents.
She was absolutely not someone who could become a villain.
And so—
“<Swordless Domain>.”
The Chairman gladly used the skill she seemed to be waiting for.
“<Swordless Domain>. <Flying Sword Art>.”
“Eek! Chairman! I told you cheat skills are banned!”
The moment her spear slipped from her hand, the slashing strikes came flying through the air. Saebyeok rolled to the side.
But the Chairman’s sword relentlessly pursued her.
“Uwaah! Even so, isn’t it too much to take away my weapon? You know my title skills are useless without a spear!”
“The battlefield shows no mercy.”
“Argh! Seriously! There are always sticks or branches lying around in a battlefield!”
“Overcome it.”
“Uuugh! Waaah!”
It was already the 128th spar with the Chairman.
Around the 100th, he realized that without a spear she couldn’t use her skills—and since then, he had tormented her with this technique every single time.
She knew she had to overcome it. She knew she had to figure out a way. But still—
“This is cheating!!!”
She couldn’t help but resent the Chairman for exploiting that one weakness so persistently.
“<Swordless Domain>.”
The skill she had been waiting for appeared, and an irrepressible smile tugged at Saebyeok’s lips.
<Skill: Swordless Domain (A)>
Who would dare to draw a weapon within the sovereign’s territory? All will cast aside their blades and surrender.
As befitted a skill that claimed everything within a hundred meters before and behind as territory, its range easily overflowed the testing chamber.
Leaping high, Saebyeok swung her spear down toward the Chairman’s head—only for it to spring from her hands as if repelled.
The Chairman’s <Absolute Sword> was also knocked free from his grip.
It was a skill that forced all within its domain to drop their weapons.
A powerful move, yes—but indiscriminate. It affected both ally and enemy alike, so it couldn’t be called purely advantageous.
Still, in a one-on-one duel, no skill was stronger.
“<Flying Sword Art>.”
Not holding a sword wasn’t a handicap for him.
<Skill: Flying Sword Art (S)>
Who could possibly predict the sovereign’s sword? This is the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
The fallen sword rose, its edge gleaming, and flew straight toward Saebyeok’s chest.
Falling in a downward strike from her leap, suddenly disarmed, Saebyeok was left fully exposed.
Defenseless.
But the Chairman did not twist the sword to kill. Instead, he simply sent it flying, his eyes filled with expectation—waiting to see what she would do.
After all, he believed she had provoked him so boldly for a reason.
“Chairman, did you know this?”
Lost briefly in old memories, Saebyeok raised her hand back higher and swung down fiercely.
“<Lightning>.”
Crack-BOOOOM!
Thunder roared loud enough to tear the building apart, lightning blazed dazzlingly, and it struck down upon the flying <Absolute Sword>.
The <Absolute Sword> lost its power and clattered to the ground. Saebyeok landed nimbly atop it.
Then, something rolled out of her hand—the object she had used to channel the strike.
“The system doesn’t recognize a pencil as a weapon until the first attack is made.”
It was a plain HB pencil.
Grinning mischievously, she pulled out another pencil from her inventory.
“And each pencil is treated as new.”
She gently pressed her foot against the <Absolute Sword>, twirling the pencil between her fingers with a sly chuckle.
“Shall we see whether my pencils run out first, or your mana runs out first?”
It was a taunt only possible because she knew both <Swordless Domain> and <Flying Sword Art> devoured enormous amounts of mana.
Looking at the pencil that had dropped and the new one she had just seemingly conjured from thin air, the Chairman burst out laughing.
“Hahaha! This is…!”
His laughter was filled with delight.
“I thought no one on the peninsula could defeat me. It seems my mind has grown complacent.”
He straightened his disheveled suit, restoring his dignity.
“To think a hunter not even awakened for a week could embarrass me this much.”
“I’m sorry.”
Saebyeok picked up his fallen sword and respectfully handed it back.
They both knew—his claim of embarrassment came from respect, and her apology came from reverence.
“You don’t seem to have a passive spear skill. Where did you learn this?”
“Self-taught.”
The Chairman’s eyes widened as he sheathed his sword.
“You mean all your counters to my techniques were learned just by watching me fight?”
“Yes.”
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t exactly self-taught—he had taught her, albeit unknowingly.
“I truly thought hundreds, thousands of times: How do I block that? What should I do in that situation?”
She had sparred against him endlessly, enough that others clicked their tongues and called her obsessive.
Eventually, she reached the point where, without using a single skill, she could fight him evenly with only spear and body.
Even now, after regression, her body remembered it all.
Her regressed muscles screamed in protest, warning her that pushing any further would be too much.
“It’s an honor just to have pushed you a little. So please, speak to me casually.”
Saebyeok placed her hand over her chest and bowed respectfully.
“You may not have known, but you’re my teacher.”
“…Hah.”
The Chairman chuckled softly, running his hand down his gaunt face.
“I feel ashamed for having doubted you even a little.”
He spoke casually now, as she had asked, though his tone remained gentle.
Like a grandfather speaking to a granddaughter.
It was the same tone she remembered from her previous life, and it made her nose sting with emotion.
“So then, have I passed?”
“If one who can fight this ‘Sword Emperor’ to such an extent is not S-rank, then who deserves it?”
He glanced at the other three S-ranks, as if to ask whether they objected.
Each of them, in their own way, indicated they would not contest it.
“Then I can get my hunter license right away?”
“Once the official registration and paperwork are done, you’ll have it next week.”
“Can’t it be sooner?”
“Do you have a reason it must be rushed?”
“I think I need to move house.”
She gestured toward the ruckus outside, caused by the shockwaves of their fight spilling out of the Association building.
“I don’t live alone, so for their safety, I think I should relocate to the Hunter District.”
“If that’s the case, I’ll grant you permission to move immediately. Don’t worry.”
“Yes!”
Maybe because she was talking with her teacher again after so long, Saebyeok felt herself slipping back into that reckless child she once was.
“But Teacher—”
“…So you’ve decided to call me Teacher after all?”
“Can’t I?”
“…”
The Chairman rarely accepted disciples.
Because his title was <Sword Emperor>, every sword-type awakener wanted to be his pupil.
He always used his busy schedule as an excuse, but the truth was—if he accepted one, many others would swarm and bother him.
Even now, high-ranking politicians and wealthy businessmen often tried to bribe him to accept themselves or their children as students.
He refused them all. But if he acknowledged this child as his disciple…
“Then tell them this: if they want to become the Sword Emperor’s disciple, they must first defeat his disciple.”
Saebyeok puffed out her chest, tapping it proudly with her thumb.
“I’ll take care of them all at my level.”
“Hahaha!”
The Chairman laughed louder than before—a laugh that made even listeners feel good.
“That is an excellent idea!”
It was the same method she had used in her past life, so she had known it would work.
Beaming, Saebyeok picked up the <Long Spear of Separation Anxiety> that had fallen earlier.
“But Teacher,”
She returned to the question she had been about to ask before.
