Chapter 92
A large number of unit members gathered around.
The soldiers surrounded the training ground where Damian and Kyle were standing, straining to catch every word Damian said.
“You’re putting too much emphasis on power. Swing your sword more lightly and aim for multiple directions in your attacks.”
“Hyaah!”
Whoosh!
“Even now, you only have one path, aiming solely for my shoulder. You need to mix in some feints before or during your attack.”
“Huff... huff...”
Kyle had been attacking for a while, but his wooden sword hadn’t even brushed Damian’s clothes.
It was as if Damian knew where Kyle would strike and easily dodged each blow.
Kyle, now drenched in sweat, was panting heavily.
He prided himself on his stamina, but the repeated, ineffective attacks were starting to wear down his spirit.
“Again.”
Damian said.
Taking in Damian’s advice, Kyle relaxed his grip on the sword.
‘Relax... think about multiple attack routes?’
At first, he didn’t quite understand Damian’s words.
He had believed that if his opponent blocked, he could simply break through with sheer force and inflict damage.
But now, after failing to even touch Damian’s clothes, his thoughts were beginning to change.
Swoosh.
Kyle adjusted his grip on the sword and relaxed his shoulders.
Noticing Kyle’s more relaxed stance, Damian looked at him with a hint of surprise.
‘...Huh?’
He hadn’t expected Kyle to take his advice so quickly.
‘I thought he was too stubborn.’
But experiencing it firsthand seemed to have made a difference.
Damian smirked and gestured lightly with his hand.
“Come on.”
“Hyaaah!”
Swish!
The move was brisk and much faster than before.
It was still a straightforward charge, full of determination.
‘But it’s much better than before.’
Damian quickly retreated, extending his staff toward Kyle.
Whoosh!
A triple-strike combo in the blink of an eye.
The first time Kyle faced this attack, he panicked and backed off.
But this time...
Clang! Clang! Clang!
He calmly blocked the attack with his shield, shaking his body from side to side.
It was a move similar to what Jerka had shown in their earlier sparring match.
‘What’s this?’
His adaptability had suddenly improved.
With the tension gone from his body, he was now able to execute all the movements he wanted to.
“Hyaah!”
Kyle, who had moved to the left, swiftly shifted to the right and swung his sword at Damian.
Whoosh!
The downward slash looked simple, but...
‘This guy...’
Perhaps the biggest gain from this sparring session was for Kyle.
As his sword swung down, he twisted it sideways, aiming for a horizontal strike.
Smack!
Damian blocked Kyle’s attack with his staff.
Kyle’s lips curled into a smile.
“Heh, did you know that was the first time you’ve blocked my attack?”
“That last move was quite good. I’ll give you that.”
“This is just the beginning!”
Gaining confidence, Kyle shouted and raised his sword again. However...
‘Sorry, but this is the end.’
Kyle had already been taught what he needed to learn.
From now on, he would have to refine his skills through countless hours of training to make them his own.
There was no reason to continue the sparring any further.
“Hup!”
Damian swiftly extended his staff toward Kyle.
The attack had a different feeling from the ones before.
Swoosh!
The staff aimed directly at Kyle’s right shoulder, causing him to hurriedly swing his sword to block it.
He intended to deflect Damian’s staff.
His gaze sharpened.
“I think half of the people here should be killed...”
Piaren turned away lightly.
“But this is His Majesty’s order, so I’ll take my leave today. I hope the next operation is handled with more care.”
The royal palace where Piaren turned away.
The bloodstains he left behind and the sorrow of those present lingered heavily in the air.
* * *
Southeast of the Baroque Kingdom.
In that area was Miltobern, a small but bustling city.
It was known as the City of Artisans.
With many artisans engaged in various artistic activities, it was also called the City of Art.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been here.”
Using a ten-day leave pass, Damian entered Miltobern, looking around as he walked through the city.
‘I could get a spear from the 6th Legion’s armory, but...’
It wouldn’t compare to a weapon made by the artisans.
Damian crossed the city, heading toward a specific location.
There was a sector in Miltobern where all the blacksmiths gathered.
The atmosphere in the western part of the city, where the blacksmiths’ sector was located, was different from the rest.
“Wow, it’s still as hot as ever here.”
Wherever he turned, he could easily spot blacksmiths’ workshops.
Damian smiled as he watched the blacksmiths hammering away, sweating profusely, and often shirtless.
He preferred this scene over those creating music or painting.
“Hey, I’ve never seen you around before. Are you a mercenary?”
As Damian wandered around the area near the workshops, a man who had stepped outside for a smoke spoke to him.
The man glanced at Damian up and down.
“...Seems like you’re pretty skilled.”
He muttered as he observed Damian’s well-balanced physique.
Damian responded.
“Do you happen to know a blacksmith named Torrel?”
“Torrel?”
The man tilted his head at Damian’s question.
He knew most of the blacksmiths around here, but...
“I’ve never heard of anyone by that name.”
He hadn’t heard of such a name before.
Damian’s expression stiffened at the man’s words.
‘I thought knowing his name would make it easier to find him...’
All he had were rumors about him, nothing about his appearance or detailed information.
Damian stood there, feeling troubled.
But then.
“What’s going on?”
Someone approached the man who had spoken to Damian.
It was another blacksmith who had come out to cool off.
The man asked him.
“Oh, this guy was asking if we knew a blacksmith named Torrel.”
“Torrel? Is there a blacksmith by that name in our city?”
He also tilted his head, looking just as confused. But then...
“Oh, are you talking about that apprentice at Meister Wiltron’s workshop?”
“Oh, that brown-haired guy? But didn’t he get kicked out recently?”
They spoke, each throwing in a remark as if they’d just remembered.
The man who had initially spoken to Damian then turned to him and said.
“There was someone like that, but he’s not a full-fledged blacksmith yet. He was just an apprentice... But it seems he’s not even that anymore.”
“What? What do you mean by that?”
Damian asked in surprise.
Has he ever heard of him being an apprentice in a city like this?
‘Well, I don’t know everything about him...’
Plus, it was happening earlier than expected.
What Damian knew about him was that he was an artisan who had bloomed in an incredibly difficult environment.
A rare sight in the kingdom, he had dark skin.
He had heard that this caused him to be the subject of a lot of gossip.
But when he created the spear “Drainkiller,” the world started to view him differently.
Black Diamond.
That was what people began to call him.
Since then, every weapon he made gained immense fame.
So much so that even during the Empire’s massive advance, which left no prisoners, there was an official decree to capture him alive.
However, since it wasn’t yet that time, Damian had only intended to find him...
“Could you tell me more about what happened?”
“Well, who doesn’t have a story...”
At Damian’s request, the man began recounting the events from a few days ago.