The Count’s Youngest Son is a Player

Chapter 31

“Hmm.”

Standing before Raul was none other than Baron Kespi, a 38-year-old man working in the capital Thurium’s security force. Among the bloodline residents of the capital, he was one of the few who knew how to wield a sword decently. With a sharp trajectory, his blade flew towards Raul.

Swoosh! Clang!!

Yet, Raul deflected the incoming sword with remarkable ease.

“Indeed, as a scion of the main family, your fundamentals are solid,” said Baron Kespi after exchanging a few blows.

“Your style is very robust, thanks to your traditional sword training. You react quickly as well. I can see why Aaron was taken down in one hit.”

Zing.

Baron Kespi’s sword glowed with a vivid blue light. It was a perfected ‘Mana Sword’, shimmering intensely.

“It’s not something I’d normally use against someone twenty years my junior, but there’s a lot at stake for me as well.”

And with that, his sword dropped in a very familiar motion.

“Take this! Bear Strike!!”

The roaring form of a blue bear surged through the air, crashing down towards Raul.

Boom!!

As the shockwave dissipated, there stood Raul, nonchalantly holding his sword aloft, now gleaming with a light golden hue.

“You blocked it!?”

Baron Kespi exclaimed in surprise, but Raul was unfazed.

‘I can’t understand why he’d clumsily resort to the family’s sword techniques.’

Raul was a direct descendant of the Ashton count’s household. He learned ‘Bear Crush’ in a more systematic way than other bloodline members and sparred with many knights, employing the technique in a variety of manners.

Naturally, he was more familiar with the flow, pulse, and forms of swordsmanship, allowing him even with just an intermediate level of mana wrapped around his sword to block a top-tier Mana Sword.

“Ah, so you’re a scion from the main house, huh? How about this, then!” Baron Kespi’s swordsmanship shifted. It was no longer the orthodox Bear Crush but mixed with unconventional movements.

Clang! Clatter!!

For the first time, Raul was pushed back.

‘At least this is somewhat better.’

It seemed after leaving home, he had mixed in other sword techniques he learned in the capital.

“Oho!”

“So that’s it. What can a greenhorn with no real battle experience hope to achieve?”

“Those from the main house, always thinking their swordsmanship is the best. Doesn’t quite work out in the capital, though.”

The audience was visibly delighted by the brief advantage.

‘These failures have no right to talk.’

In truth, those bloodlines residing in the capital were more or less outcasts. Born into prestigious sword houses yet unable to break through the expert barrier and giving up on swordsmanship. Or those driven by jealousy or feelings of inferiority towards their more skilled peers, fleeing their hometowns. These individuals desperately clung together to form a group.

Of course, not everyone was like that. There were those who had different talents aside from swordsmanship or who harbored grander dreams and thus headed to the capital.

However, none of them were present here.

‘The real deal wouldn’t bother with such pitiful squabbles.’

Instead, they distanced themselves from their main families, striving to carve their own paths, unlike those here, greedily eyeing the main family’s resources.

Clang.

After pretending to struggle against Baron Kespi’s blade, Raul suddenly swung his sword, creating distance between them.

“It’s truly regrettable. Had you dedicated the time you spent patching together different sword techniques into delving deeper into our family’s swordsmanship, you might have overcome the barrier.”

At Raul’s biting comment, Baron Kespi’s eyebrows twitched.

“Ha, what would a youngling like you know? Advising me when I’ve practiced Bear Crush for 15 years! How presumptuous!”

Baron Kespi’s blade traced a new pattern.

It charged like a wolf, a vicious whirlwind of blades aiming for Raul’s entirety.

‘Oh!’

‘Isn’t that the Tempest Wolf of the Templeton House?’

‘Being in the guard has allowed him to learn the master’s swordsmanship!’

The audience believed this could finally decide the match. But in an instant—flash! A golden streak crossed the void, and the shape of the wolf vanished without a trace.

“You fail to understand. It’s not the swordsmanship that’s important, but how well you master it,” Raul shifted to the offensive for the first time, his sword slicing through the air with precision, tracing the pattern of the Crush Blade technique as it aimed for Baron Kespi.

“Foolish! Do you think such textbook techniques can defeat me?” Baron Kespi’s sword intercepted Raul’s, which was aimed at his chest.

Crack, whoosh!

“Argh!”

However, Raul’s blade grazed Kespi’s sword, twisting its path and lightly slicing through the baron’s thigh.

‘What was that technique?’

Before Baron Kespi could gather his thoughts, another attack came. It was clearly the fifth form of the Crush Blade technique, a sidestep thrust. Reflexively, the baron positioned his sword to block the expected path. But the moment Raul’s sword met the baron’s, it shifted direction.

‘The eighth form, a horizontal slash!’

Correctly identifying this, Baron Kespi adjusted his blade to intercept the path again. Yet, it was far from over.

‘What now? The third form’s twisted stab? Or the sixth form’s vertical slash?’

Raul’s techniques changed too swiftly for the baron to react. Eventually, Raul’s blade cut across his forearm.

‘Is such a sequence of techniques, linking one after another, even possible?’

Agony and disbelief contorted the baron’s face. Swordsmanship consists of techniques. Those who learn the basic stances—slashes, stabs, and cuts—are taught techniques, which are essentially planned paths combining these basic stances, devised to deceive the opponent and avoid prediction—the most efficient path of the sword.

However, rigidly adhering to these techniques can be dangerous, especially against an opponent who knows them, as they are easily countered. Hence, when using swordsmanship, one varies the techniques to introduce unpredictability.

Baron Kespi was shocked not merely because Raul used a sequence of techniques but because it was done so rapidly, drawing unpredictable paths and executed with utmost precision.

‘Is this what distinguishes talent? Damn it all!’

Swoosh, slash!

Blood lines were drawn on Baron Kespi’s body with every reach of Raul’s sword. Clang. Finally, as the baron’s wrist was cut and he dropped his sword, Raul’s blade rested at his throat.

“See, Baron? Even just linking textbook techniques is enough. Do you still think the family’s swordsmanship is lacking?”

Raul asked calmly.

“Monster…”

With that single word, Baron Kespi collapsed to the ground.

‘With such dynamic vision, reaction speed, and judgment, who needs swordsmanship!’

He wanted to argue, but overwhelmed by blood loss and defeat, the baron soon lost consciousness.

“The victor is Raul!” declared Haphael. Amongst the vampires, unease could not be concealed.

‘Baron Kespi was defeated!’

‘This could change things…’

‘Didn’t they say Young master Raul hardly mastered swordsmanship?’

Amid those speculations, Baron Zender managed to calm them with a strained smile.

“Don’t worry. After all, he’s just a kid at the level of a sword user. Don’t you all know who the last contestant is?”

At that, the commotion settled.

‘Well, if it’s that person…’

‘No matter how impressive their family’s swordsmanship might be, that’s as far as it goes.’

It seemed the final contestant had the vampires’ utmost confidence.

“Now, let’s bring forth the last contestant.”

Haphael, in charge of officiating and judging, seemed quite entertained. From his perspective, the outcome hardly mattered. ‘Well, it’s slightly better if the youngster loses, but even if he wins…

‘The Ashton brats are merely nicking at their own flesh, but where would the harm lie in that?

During this time, the last contestant emerged.

‘Was his name Dave?’

He recalled the moment Lord Zender introduced him as his eldest son.

He was a bit older than himself and had apparently crossed a barrier, but he wasn’t particularly memorable.

‘Go ahead, thrash about to the very end, rookie.’

As Raul looked forward with anticipation to what would unfold, Haphael announced loudly.

“Begin the third match!”

* * *

In front of Raul was a towering man over 190 cm tall.

Considering that the denser the Ashton family’s blood, the larger the build, it seemed he was naturally gifted in that aspect.

However, Raul frowned not at the man’s outer appearance but at what lay within him.

‘Could it be they’ve meddled this far.’

What Raul saw was….

“Hey, runt! I won’t say it twice. Give up on the match while I’m asking nicely. Otherwise….”

From Dave’s sword sprang forth a blue mana blade about 15cm in length—a materialized sword qi.

“If you think to face me with your mediocre swordsmanship, it would be wiser to give up now.”

“Oooh!!”

“Look at that clear mana blade!”

“Typical Dave. An expert is truly different!”

The delighted chattering of the nobles filled the hall.

But Raul let out a light sigh and said,

“Huff. Instead of wasting breath, bring it on!”

This halfwit.

Raul, swallowing his last remark, infused mana into his sword, aiming it at Dave.

“Fine, if that’s what you really want. But don’t blame me later!”

Swoosh!

A wildly distorted blue trajectory plummeted towards Raul.

Raul, his eyes turning golden, watched the tip of the sword to the end and slightly stepped aside, avoiding the trajectory.

Boom!

The innocent ground was gouged out.

Raul, pushing off lightly from the ground, dashed towards Dave and thrust his sword.

Clang!

Dave, seeming defenseless as he swung the sword, but then his fist from the opposite side struck out, fending off Raul’s sword.

Whoosh!

Immediately after, Dave spun horizontally with the greatsword, which Raul avoided by flipping backwards in mid-air, creating distance.

“You dodge quite well, flitting around! Keep dodging if you can!”

Dave, with agility unbecoming of his large stature, swung his greatsword in a series of continuous blows.

Raul did not respond rashly but calmly dodged the attacks, without forgetting to observe Dave.

‘Hmm. Is that the scale of a physical boost? I wonder how long the effect lasts.’

Raul’s curiosity was soon satisfied.

Before even three minutes passed, the size of the mana blade emanating from Dave’s sword had reduced by more than half.

“You scoundrel! Are you just going to run away!”

Frustrated by Raul’s elusive movements, Dave’s actions became more aggressive.

Clash!!

Finally, Raul’s sword met Dave’s in combat.

Taking a couple of steps back, Raul nodded slightly and examined his sword.

‘Hm, is it notched?’

He noticed a slight indentation where they had collided.

Normally, a mana sword of intermediate user level would shatter upon contact with an expert’s mana blade.

But in reality, it was barely notched.

‘So, it wasn’t a real mana blade after all.’

Having seen enough, it was time to wrap things up.

Raul approached Dave, murmuring quietly so only he could hear.

“That’s enough. Fake expert, no, the empire’s dog!”

(To be continued)