4
1266 Words
The woman’s movements appeared to be simple, and yet, at the same time, they remained somewhat elusive. She seemed to effortlessly disappear from one place, only to emerge from the darkness in another. There was a brief pause, and then the two daggers flashed, deflected at the last second by Hadjar’s now upraised sword. But as soon as he tried to retaliate, the lady disappeared into the darkness once again.
She once more appeared eighty feet away from him, her clothes swaying in the wind as she seemed to exude darkness itself. It might have been his eyes playing tricks on him, but it appeared to Hadjar as if she were wearing the night itself, not mere silk.
Hadjar dashed toward her and swung his sword, launching a ghostly s***h. It was as thick as his palm and as tall as a sapling, leaving a deep furrow in the ground before slamming into the assassin. Such a strike could’ve cut an ordinary cultivator in half. However, it was now unable to free itself from the bonds of the red ribbon, vibrating helplessly as it sought to end her life.
Message to host:
The attack was stopped by an unknown object.
“Artifact,” Hadjar said, realizing what had happened.
In the next instant, the ribbon artifact directed the ghostly strike skyward, where it scattered.
Becoming a cloud of darkness again, the assassin slid across the grass. She didn’t move in a straight line, constantly changing her trajectory instead, avoiding more than a dozen of those same attacks that Hadjar kept throwing at her. Apparently, her ribbon couldn’t protect her from all of the strikes, but then again, it didn’t really need to since she had such skill to fall back on.
Her speed was much greater than Hadjar’s, and her movements were also smoother than his.
Everything in her Technique was clearly geared toward only landing a single, insanely strong and accurate strike, killing her target in one blow.
Finally, she emerged from the darkness, poised above Hadjar. The assassin’s daggers blazed in the moonlight. Like two thin, deadly rays, they rushed toward Hadjar’s head and chest.
He ‘floated’ back and immediately swung his sword, utilizing the second stance of the ‘Light Breeze’ Technique. The ‘Calm Wind’ swirled around him, but the stance, normally capable of stopping the impact of a battering ram, merely slowed down the thin blades.
They broke through his shield and left two deep, red lines on his body, and the first drops of blood that had been spilled in the fight fell to the ground.
The assassin descended, making sure she was eighty feet away, as before, her daggers still sparkling in her hands as the hint of a smile appeared on her face.
“You deserve to have the bards sing about you, Officer. The ‘Moon Flower’ Technique usually means certain death even for practitioners at the Transformation of Spirit stage.”
“I’m flattered.” Hadjar smiled broadly.
He felt no fear, no desire to escape or call on his friends for help. No, he was only glad that he had the chance to face such a strong opponent. Full of passion, his heart beating rapidly, he met this new, deadly battle head-on. Only by facing such skilled and lethal opponents and fighting them to the death could a person without great talent progress in this world.
Hadjar set his sword in front of him and swung it abruptly. “Strong wind!” he roared.
Chapter 76
The first stance of the ‘Light Breeze’ Technique was an attack stance. It used to merely invoke an almost invisible, cutting whirlwind, but since Hadjar had trained in it every day, fighting against groups of invisible opponents, his sword had become both faster and sharper. His understanding of the Way of the Sword had deepened and, in turn, had opened up new horizons for him in battle.
That was why something that had previously been invisible had now assumed the form of a blue whirlwind. It swept through the air, cutting deep furrows into the earth as it moved. It crashed into the red ribbon with tremendous force, but, same as with Hadjar’s previous attack, the ribbon held fast.
However, just like with the ghostly strikes, it could only protect against the first attack. When more ethereal swords emerged from the whirlwind, the assassin had to contend with them herself.
She was able to deflect the first two blades with her daggers, but the third one left a long, scarlet cut across her bare left shoulder.
The girl spun like a top and disappeared into the darkness, and the whirlwind went off into the forest, cutting down several trees along the way and then fading away into an indistinct haze.
“I deem you worthy,” the lady said, appearing near him once more, plainly visible. “My name is Delaha.”
“Hadjar Traves,” the officer introduced himself.
Such an exchange of names was a long-standing tradition that meant one was recognizing their opponent’s abilities.
A moment later, Delaha moved. Her daggers flashed and whirled as they fought up close. Their movements were more like the dance of a swan, despite the desperate struggle they were engaged in. Every strike was beautiful and elegant, carrying not only death with it, but an element of mystery as well.
They were so fast that even Nero found it difficult to follow the warriors’ movements. At times, he only saw flashes of steel, blue whirlwinds, or the moon rays that the assassin’s blades projected.
Aiming a vicious thrust at his throat using her right dagger, Delaha didn’t follow through on the deadly movement. Instead, she turned and redirected her other dagger at Hadjar’s stomach. He deflected the strike aimed at his neck with his blade and then twisted aside with a supernatural grace. The dagger sang through the air, cutting his clothes, but not breaking his skin.
Using the inertia of his dodge, Hadjar swung his sword in retaliation. Like a falling dragon, the strike bore down at Delaha’s head with grim finality. She immediately dissolved into the darkness, appearing once again behind Hadjar.
They kept performing their graceful dance of death. They fought near the ground, floating over the grass like the ghosts of past practitioners.
They fought in the air, trading light but still undoubtedly dangerous strikes.
Hadjar braced himself and assumed the first stance of the Technique, sending a cutting whirlwind toward his foe. But once again, it ran into the assassin’s red ribbon barrier. Taught by bitter experience, Delaha defended against the ghostly blades that followed more easily this time around.
She moved like a shadow and launched five moon rays at once. Each of them was strong enough to make a hole in a fortress wall. Hadjar was able to repel four of them with the ‘Calm Wind’, but the fifth one cut into his thigh after successfully evading his defenses.
Hadjar’s dance slowed down a bit, and his movements became careless.
And yet, he continued to battle.
He swung his blade at his opponent’s chest. When she deflected it with her right dagger, Hadjar twisted his body and turned around. He caught her left wrist and then jerked her hand with all the force he could muster, cutting her side with her own blade.
This sent Delaha into a rage. Disappearing in a cloud of darkness, she appeared a few feet above Hadjar. Her dagger-flowers flashed, and with a hawkish cry, she attacked the officer with a dozen more moon rays.
- Writer
