Free Web NovelChapter 22: Chapter 22: Execution Line
Chapter 22: Execution Line
The rhythmic clash of steel echoed across the Darkmoor training grounds.
Soldiers moved in disciplined formations beneath the morning sun, swords cutting through the air in perfect synchronization while spearmen drilled coordinated advances under the watchful eyes of veteran instructors. Every command rang with practiced authority, and every movement reflected years of relentless training.
At the center of it all stood General Selene Vaelthorn.
With her arms folded behind her back, she silently observed every exchange. Her crimson eyes missed nothing—not an unsteady stance, not a delayed reaction, not a single wasted movement.
After several more minutes, she clapped her hands once.
The crisp sound cut cleanly through the constant ringing of steel.
"Enough."
Her calm voice carried effortlessly across the grounds.
"Training ends here."
The soldiers immediately lowered their weapons.
"We’ll move on to sparring matches."
The orderly formations dissolved as the training grounds transformed into an open dueling arena. Servants hurried forward, bringing weapon racks filled with practice swords, spears, shields, and axes. Knights stepped aside to clear the central field while the remaining soldiers gathered around its perimeter.
A faint murmur spread through the crowd.
Sparring sessions were always popular.
Watching fellow warriors test their skills often taught lessons that ordinary drills never could.
Selene swept her gaze across the assembled soldiers.
"Who’s first?"
Two captains stepped forward without hesitation.
One was a broad-shouldered man with cropped brown hair and a heavy longsword strapped across his back.
Captain Darius.
The other was leaner, with sharp gray eyes and a lighter blade resting comfortably at his waist.
Captain Ronan.
Long-time rivals.
Both stood at the Low Fourth Circle.
Both had spent years trying to prove they were the better swordsman.
Darius grinned broadly.
"Don’t complain after you lose again."
Ronan merely smirked.
"I was about to tell you the same thing."
The surrounding soldiers chuckled.
Clearly, this was a familiar rivalry.
Selene stepped aside.
"Begin."
The instant she gave the signal, Darius lunged forward like a charging bull.
His heavy sword cleaved downward with frightening force.
Instead of meeting it directly, Ronan pivoted lightly to one side. The massive blade crashed into the stone floor, scattering chips of rock across the arena.
Before Darius could recover, Ronan’s sword darted forward.
A quick thrust.
Then another.
Then a third.
Each strike targeted a different opening, forcing Darius onto the defensive.
Steel flashed repeatedly beneath the morning sun.
The duel unfolded at a blistering pace.
Darius relied on overwhelming strength, every swing carrying enough force to fracture stone if left unchecked.
Ronan answered with speed and precision.
He rarely blocked directly.
Instead, he redirected each strike with economical movements, conserving his strength while steadily disrupting his opponent’s rhythm.
Minutes passed.
Neither man gave an inch.
Finally—
Darius committed to a powerful horizontal slash.
It was exactly what Ronan had been waiting for.
He slipped beneath the attack, pivoted behind his opponent, and brought the edge of his sword gently against Darius’s neck.
The duel ended.
Silence lingered for only a heartbeat before Darius burst into laughter.
"You only won because I held back."
Ronan rolled his eyes.
"You’ve said that after every loss for the past five years."
Laughter rippled through the spectators.
The two captains clasped forearms before leaving the arena together.
Several more matches followed.
One ended almost instantly as a veteran spearman expertly disarmed his opponent within moments.
Another became a grueling contest between two shield warriors who refused to surrender an inch of ground. Their duel dragged on until Selene finally pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Enough."
The two men froze.
"You’ve been staring at each other behind those shields for nearly ten minutes."
"If either of you intends to attack today, do it."
The soldiers erupted into laughter.
Even the two embarrassed warriors couldn’t help smiling before lowering their shields.
From the sidelines, Andras watched every match in silence.
His expression remained calm, but behind those violet eyes, his mind never stopped working.
Every duel offered something worth observing.
Different footwork.
Different breathing patterns.
Different habits.
Some fighters relied on instinct.
Others fought according to rigid discipline.
Even the smallest details carried value.
His gaze followed every movement with unwavering concentration.
Mana circulation.
Weight distribution.
Attack timing.
Recovery speed.
Every exchange became another lesson.
The original Andras possessed years of formal training.
Alex possessed a lifetime of analytical thinking.
Together...
They created something neither had been alone.
Experience.
Talent could only take someone so far.
Real combat demanded something more.
Another duel concluded.
Before Selene could call for the next volunteers, a lone figure stepped out from the gathered soldiers.
The conversations around the arena gradually faded.
The newcomer looked to be in his late twenties.
His appearance was unremarkable—short dark hair, a weathered face, and the quiet confidence of someone who had survived more battlefields than he cared to remember.
Yet the mana surrounding him was remarkably stable.
Disciplined.
Controlled.
Captain Jack.
Unlike the veteran officers, Jack had earned his captaincy only recently after distinguishing himself during several dangerous border campaigns.
He approached Selene before bowing respectfully.
"General."
Selene regarded him calmly.
"What is it?"
Jack straightened.
"I would like permission to challenge the Young Master to a spar."
The training grounds fell noticeably quieter.
Several soldiers exchanged surprised glances.
Even a few instructors raised their eyebrows.
Challenge...
The Young Master?
Selene studied Jack for several moments before speaking.
"You don’t need my permission."
Her crimson eyes shifted toward Andras.
"If he accepts, the duel may proceed."
Jack nodded before turning toward Andras.
He bowed once more.
"Young Master."
His tone remained respectful.
"Would you honor me with a spar?"
Andras looked at him thoughtfully.
Fragments of memory surfaced almost immediately.
Jack Varren.
One of the newer captains within the Darkmoor Army.
A competent warrior.
Reliable.
Disciplined.
Unlike many soldiers, he had never openly mocked the original Andras.
Nor had he ever attempted to flatter him.
Interesting.
After a brief pause, Andras nodded.
"Very well."
"We’ll spar."
Excited whispers immediately spread through the gathered soldiers.
"The Young Master accepted."
"This should be interesting."
"I wonder how long he’ll last against Captain Jack."
"Jack is nearly at the Fourth Circle."
"And the Young Master only recently reached the Third..."
Ignoring the murmurs around him, Andras silently called upon the system.
System.
Show me his status.
A familiar metallic notification echoed inside his mind.
[Ding!]
---
Name: Jack Varren
Race: Human
Age: 29
Class: Warrior
Talent: Iron Blood Reinforcement (C-Rank)
Realm: Peak Third Circle Warrior
---
Andras quietly studied the translucent window.
Peak Third Circle.
One stage above him.
Under normal circumstances...
The original Andras would have struggled to stand against such an opponent.
But...
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
He wasn’t the original Andras anymore.
Without another word, both men walked toward the center of the arena.
The crowd instinctively stepped back, forming a wide circle around them.
The air itself seemed to grow quieter.
Jack rested a hand on the hilt of his sword.
Across from him, Andras did the same.
Neither spoke.
Neither underestimated the other.
Selene stepped between them.
Her sharp gaze swept across both combatants.
"This is a spar."
"No fatal blows."
"No deliberate attempts to cripple your opponent."
"If I judge the match to have gone too far..."
"I will end it immediately."
Her eyes lingered on each of them for a brief moment.
"Understood?"
Jack nodded.
"Yes, General."
Andras inclined his head.
"I understand."
Selene stepped back.
She slowly raised one hand.
The entire training ground seemed to hold its breath.
Then—
"Begin."
The instant Selene’s hand fell, Jack burst forward.
His speed belied his sturdy frame, covering the distance between them in the blink of an eye. His longsword carved a fierce diagonal arc through the air, aiming directly for Andras’s shoulder.
Steel met steel.
The impact reverberated through Andras’s arm, forcing him back several steps. His boots dug shallow grooves into the packed earth before he regained his footing.
Heavy...
A warrior’s physical strength truly surpasses that of a mage.
Jack gave him no time to recover.
His sword swept low toward Andras’s legs before flowing seamlessly into an upward slash aimed at his chest. Every strike was practical and efficient, devoid of unnecessary flourishes. It was the style of someone who had survived real battlefields.
Andras remained composed.
Rather than contesting Jack’s strength head-on, he redirected each blow with precise movements. His sword glided along the captain’s blade before slipping aside at the final moment, using technique to overcome raw power.
The sharp ring of colliding steel echoed repeatedly across the training grounds.
Neither combatant yielded an inch.
Around them, the watching soldiers exchanged increasingly surprised looks.
"The Young Master... is actually keeping up."
"I thought Captain Jack would overwhelm him."
"Jack isn’t holding back either."
"He reached Peak Third Circle months ago..."
Jack’s expression gradually grew more serious.
He had expected the duel to end quickly.
Instead, Andras answered every attack with calm precision.
So the rumors really were wrong...
Without hesitation, Jack circulated mana throughout his body.
His muscles tensed as a metallic sheen spread faintly beneath his skin.
Iron Blood Reinforcement.
A surge of physical strength coursed through his body.
The next strike descended like a falling boulder.
Andras twisted aside just before the blade crashed into the stone floor.
A spiderweb of cracks spread from the impact.
The soldiers couldn’t help but inhale sharply.
"What terrifying strength..."
Before Jack could pull his sword free, Andras extended his left hand.
Mana rippled outward.
Resonance Pulse.
Invisible vibrations erupted from his palm and slammed into Jack’s chest.
A dull shockwave burst across the arena.
Jack staggered backward several meters before planting his feet firmly into the ground.
His eyes widened slightly.
"That..."
"...was impressive."
Several soldiers stared in astonishment.
"I didn’t even see the attack."
"It looked like the air exploded."
"A mana technique..."
Jack exhaled before smiling faintly.
"So the Young Master isn’t the weak noble everyone believed."
Andras said nothing.
His figure suddenly blurred.
Echo Step.
The place where he had been standing was occupied only by a fading afterimage.
Jack’s instincts screamed.
He turned immediately.
Steel collided again.
The force of the impact made his arms tremble.
Even Selene’s expression shifted ever so slightly.
His movement technique...
It’s become considerably sharper.
Neither fighter retreated.
Jack answered with another relentless series of attacks.
Horizontal slash.
Overhead strike.
A thrust aimed at the heart.
Every movement flowed naturally into the next.
Andras responded with equal composure.
The swordsmanship inherited from House Darkmoor blended seamlessly with Echo Resonance.
His blade moved with remarkable efficiency, every parry becoming the beginning of another attack.
The duel intensified.
Their swords flashed beneath the morning sun, sending showers of sparks dancing through the air.
Neither man possessed an obvious advantage.
Jack fought like a veteran forged through countless battles.
Andras fought like a man who analyzed every movement before it happened.
The spectators gradually fell silent.
No one had expected the duel to become this evenly matched.
"How..."
"He’s only at the Low Third Circle..."
"Captain Jack should have won already."
Selene remained perfectly still.
Her crimson eyes never left Andras.
His technique has evolved again...
And his judgment during battle...
It’s frighteningly calm.
Jack swung horizontally toward Andras’s ribs.
Andras lowered his body just enough for the blade to whistle harmlessly above him before driving his sword forward.
Black Thorn Sword Style.
First Thorn.
The thrust shot toward Jack’s chest with startling speed.
Jack barely managed to redirect it.
Steel scraped violently against steel, sending sparks scattering between them.
The exchange continued.
Again.
And again.
Neither side seemed willing to give an inch.
Then—
It happened.
Frustration flickered across Jack’s face.
Only for an instant.
His mana surged.
Along with it...
A trace of killing intent escaped his control.
It lasted less than a heartbeat.
Most people never noticed.
Two did.
Selene.
And...
Andras.
The moment Resonant Sense detected that hostility—
Something inside him changed.
False Ceiling Break.
Mana exploded throughout his body like a dam collapsing.
Every muscle tightened.
Every nerve awakened.
His heartbeat thundered inside his ears.
Power flooded every corner of his body.
The world around him slowed.
Jack’s eyes widened.
Danger!
His instincts screamed louder than they ever had before.
But realization came too late.
The afterimage Andras had left behind still stood where he had been.
The real Andras had already crossed the distance.
Less than a single heartbeat.
Vibrating mana wrapped around the edge of his sword.
The blade hummed with terrifying destructive force.
Jack instinctively raised his weapon.
He wasn’t fast enough.
"Execution Line."
The sword flashed.
There was no grand explosion.
No earth-shattering collision.
Only a single, flawless slash.
For one impossible second...
The battlefield froze.
Jack remained standing.
His eyes were wide with disbelief.
Then...
His head slipped cleanly from his shoulders.
It struck the ground with a heavy thud before rolling several feet across the dirt.
A heartbeat later, the headless body collapsed.
Blood slowly spread across the stone.
Silence descended upon the training grounds.
Absolute silence.
The soldiers stared in horror.
