Swordsmanship Genius Sees the Future

Chapter 41 - Sea of Illusions (4)

Della Douka was a young professor at the Northern Academy.

Her subject was Aura, specializing in research concerning Trance.

This year, she held the position of homeroom professor for 1st Year Class A.

And traditionally, the Class A homeroom professor serves as the referee for the inter-class competition finals.

It was propitious.

If she continued to hold such key positions, she would likely be appointed as a full professor at the academy within two years.

Everything was flowing in the direction she desired.

Until 30 minutes ago, that is.

-Della Douka? You are the professor serving as the referee for this inter-class competition. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Della had to have a secret conversation with a man in a tailcoat who introduced himself as a high-ranking official of the Sword King family.

-Oh, your eyes are frightening. You don't need to be so wary.

-I'll be direct. I have no intention of interfering with the outcome of the match. You can rest assured that I won't ask for any biased rulings.

Della was secretly relieved but didn't relax her expression.

In her heart, she wanted to refuse the conversation entirely and return to the auditorium.

However, since it was an arrangement made by the Dean, she couldn't. It might negatively impact her full professorship appointment.

The man, as if already aware of Della's predicament, narrowed his eyes and smiled.

-Just don't make the call too quickly.

Della frowned.

In an inter-class competition, the outcome of win or loss isn't the most important thing.

The safety of the participating students is paramount.

Therefore, before any problems arise, the referee must declare the winner and end the match.

If it seems urgent, the referee's role is to even throw themselves in to prevent a student's injury.

But not to make the call too quickly?

Della shook her head, about to refuse immediately.

But.

The opponent's threat was a little faster than her refusal.

-Ah! Now that I think about it, I heard Professor, you dislike field work, don't you?

Della closed her mouth and glared at the man.

Did he perhaps investigate her background?

-Now, now, you don't have to be so hostile. I just happened to hear it by chance.

-About what happened when Professor, you served at a northern outpost in the past.

-You were assigned to Palthon Highland Outpost No. 1, weren't you?

-It's a famous place. Because of that incident five years ago.

-The Third Battle of Palthon Highland.

-It was said to be a terrible battle. I heard that all the colleagues who were assigned together, as well as the stationed soldiers, were annihilated.

-Only one survivor, they say...

-I won't mention the name. Now that I think about it, the scar on your face must have been from then too.

-Ah, so what about it, you ask?

-Didn't you say this recently to a fellow professor over drinks? That you would never go back to the field. That you'd rather hang yourself than go there.

She had confided such things to Christina, the homeroom professor of 3rd Year Class C.

Della bit her lip, considering ending her friendship with Christina.

-Oh, blood is flowing from your lips. Indeed, those who handle aura find it difficult to control their strength.

-I understand your feelings. Having experienced hell, it's understandable.

-However, field personnel are chronically short.

-Isn't it the reality of the Sword King family that anyone can be dispatched if the situation calls for it?

It was a despicable threat.

Della recalled the terror of that time and tried to argue back.

She was already appointed a professor, so she wouldn't be forcibly sent to the field now.

-Of course. A professor has that authority.

-However, that only applies to 'full professors'.

-You are not yet a full professor, are you? So, you can be reassigned to the field even this year.

-You know, don't you? How fickle the upper echelons of the Sword King family are. If an order comes down, the dispatch is instantaneous.

It was true.

Della closed her eyes and sighed.

-But, you see.

-If you grant my small request now, that will never happen.

-No...

-Oh dear, you look so pitiful. Why are you struggling so much over just this? Anyone would think I asked you to manipulate the outcome of the match, wouldn't they?

-Just don't make the judgment too quickly.

-Slowly. Very slowly.

-Understood?

Della finally nodded.

It was a painful moment.

She had sold her conscience for her own safety.

"Union Sword is a technique that cannot be controlled at the referee's discretion. There's a risk of immediate decapitation or limb severance. Therefore, it is prohibited."

In the midst of that, she even had to convey a prohibition directly issued by the Dean to the student.

It was a miserable moment.

A sense of futility even washed over her, wondering what on earth she was doing there.

"Yes, Professor. Understood."

Della couldn't bring herself to meet the student's eyes.

She stepped back, biting her lip.

Time felt too long.

"...Match start!"

But finally, it began.

The first inter-class competition finals, the last match for the freshmen.

This match was not going to end quickly.

Because she would make it so.

In that process, someone might suffer a serious injury.

Perhaps, if they were unlucky, they might even lose their life.

The world was still stopped.

I focused my mind, endlessly repeating countless illusions to find a future where I win.

But such a future did not exist.

The moment the opponent's wooden sword grazed my ear, a concussion erupted, and I lost consciousness.

A torn ear was a bonus.

For the next three months, hearing in one ear would not return.

The wooden sword merely touched my knee, but it broke backward, making me collapse in an odd direction.

For the next six months, I would be reliant on crutches.

Judging by the results, the opponent would be more surprised.

He'd look like he didn't expect such a severe injury.

But it couldn't be helped.

I had no aura at all.

Conversely, the opponent would assume I had activated at least some aura.

He'd think it was fine because even activating 1-star aura significantly boosts durability.

That's why such a terrible outcome occurs.

Generally, if hit, bones break.

Generally, if grazed, flesh tears.

Massive bleeding.

Ah, blood is important.

For some reason, the referee hesitates to make a call, but as soon as a lot of blood flows, she immediately intervenes and declares the opponent's victory.

So, it's better for flesh to tear and bleed than for bones to break.

That leads to a slightly less painful defeat.

So...

No.

No, no.

That's not it.

Whether it hurts or not, losing is still losing.

And if I lose, the academy will fall, and my friends will die.

So I have to win.

But how?

First, I can't let the opponent's attack touch my body.

The moment it does, defeat is confirmed.

So I have to control the opponent.

The key is to pre-emptively control them so that no attack can get close to me.

The problem was the means.

What on earth do I have to do to completely block the opponent's approach?

I'm much slower and much weaker than him...

Does such a future even exist?

Is it just an illusion swirling in my head?

"..."

At that moment, something flashed.

An illusion.

An illusion of an illusion.

Amidst countless future possibilities, the illusory future I desired vaguely emerged.

No, wait.

Do I really have to go that far?

Is that even possible?

Can I do something like that?

I didn't even know if something like that was possible in reality.

"Match start!"

And the match began.

Nothing was clear.

But this damn world began to flow back to normal.

Damn it.

It felt like the whole world was against me.

I hate this irrational world.

Whether that's true or not doesn't really matter.

That's why it's an illusion.

Even if it's just an illusion, I needed hatred right now.

Because that leads to the only way out I just saw.

Make the world recognize a hatred that transcends killing intent.

Only then can I materialize the illusion that can control the opponent into reality.

Illusion.

Something without substance.

Illusionary Sword.

A sword without substance.

But something more is needed.

That is the future illusion I saw.

If making the opponent recognize killing intent is Illusionary Sword, then making the entire world, including the opponent, recognize hatred materializes an even greater illusion.

Perhaps this is the ultimate truth of Illusionary Sword.

Of course, I can't do that.

My Illusionary Sword has only just taken shape.

It was only about a month ago that I first encountered Illusionary Sword.

But I have to.

That's how I can reach the future I desire.

The future where I win.

The future where I complete the ultimate truth of Illusionary Sword.

The future where I unleash countless Illusionary Swords from all directions, completely blocking the opponent's movements.

The opponent dances.

Like a puppet.

I hold the strings and perform an impromptu puppet show.

The puppet show had to be intense.

Even a slight slack, and the puppet would climb the strings and stab a knife into my body.

'What is this?'

At the start of the match, countless blades poured forth.

Could it be Illusionary Sword?

Zedebek doubted his eyes.

What kind of Illusionary Sword pours out so many at once?

And from all directions?

'Is this Illusionary Sword?'

It's impossible.

He was familiar with Illusionary Sword.

Just a few months ago, he had called his cousin, a professor at the Southern Academy, and experienced it firsthand until he was sick of it.

The initial shock was immense.

The moment an Illusionary Sword penetrated his body, he writhed in a sharp pain he had never experienced before. As if struck by a real sword.

But as he kept getting hit, he got used to it.

An illusion is ultimately just an illusion.

Later, he could even take three or four Illusionary Swords with his body and continue fighting.

But this wasn't just three or four.

Dozens of transparent blades poured down relentlessly.

They weren't even coming only from the front.

They flew from the left and right, above his head, and even from behind.

Thud!

Thud!

Thudthudthudthud!

Substanceless blades pierced his body.

It was impossible to dodge them all.

Since they had no substance, he couldn't even parry them with his wooden sword.

It hurt.

He thought he was used to it, but he wasn't at all.

Even if he were used to it, the sheer number of hits was different, so he couldn't endure it.

"Gah!"

He couldn't just keep taking it.

Zedebek gritted his teeth and launched himself forward.

He just needed to take down the opponent.

Then the Illusionary Swords wouldn't fly anymore.

But the opponent in front of him suddenly vanished.

'No?'

To be precise, he hadn't vanished.

It was just that an airtight storm of Illusionary Swords poured down so heavily that the opponent couldn't be seen.

Dozens?

No, at this point, wasn't it more like hundreds?

To the point where the person on the other side couldn't be seen.

Zedebek instinctively pushed off the ground and changed direction.

Sideways.

He had to avoid the pouring blades first.

If he took all of those, even if they were illusions, it would clearly cause problems for his body.

Humans could die from pain alone.

That very fear was the true nature of Illusionary Sword.

Having dodged the immediate threat, Zedebek pushed off the ground again, launching himself towards the opponent.

Dynamically and agilely.

But Illusionary Swords were already pouring down there too.

"Gah!"

Thanks to that, he had to twist his body and launch himself in another direction again.

It was humiliating.

The very fact that he had to avoid Illusionary Swords was humiliating.

And even enduring that humiliation, he couldn't dodge them all.

Thudthudthudthudthud!

Over a dozen Illusionary Swords struck his legs.

"Gah..."

It was painful.

Would this be the end?

It wasn't.

The transparent swords continued to pour down.

Continuously, even when he twisted his body.

Continuously, even when he retreated.

Continuously, even when he somersaulted in mid-air and changed direction.

Was it even possible to create and launch this many Illusionary Swords?

Later, the moment he shifted his gaze to find a place to avoid, an even greater storm of Illusionary Swords surged from the very direction his gaze landed.

'What is this?'

Zedebek couldn't believe the reality before his eyes.

The opponent had predicted his actions.

Even the direction of his gaze.

'How dare he!'

Rage surged.

He couldn't endure it anymore.

No matter his grandfather's orders, he had tried not to activate more than 3-star aura.

He thought it would be enough.

But it wasn't enough at all.

Zedebek accepted the flow of ley lines connected to him even more strongly.

Then the world changed.

Of course, what actually changed was himself.

His perception of the world changed.

The incoming Illusionary Swords felt like they were slowing down.

At this speed, he could easily dodge them.

The opponent's attacks slowed, and his speed increased.

If even a slight opening appeared, he could probably dive straight in.

Towards that insolent opponent.

This was the power of 4-star Aura.

However, attacking the opponent with this power would lead to a terrible outcome.

The opponent's aura was only 1-star at best.

Perhaps the arena would turn into a bloodbath.

But what could he do?

This was the opponent's own doing.

He should have just fought moderately and fallen moderately.

How dare he struggle to win?

A fellow from the annihilated Granvelle family?