Game Mind of a Medieval Modern Person - Chapter 198



Only Noblemtl

198. In response to the laughter from Insejeilgeom Narva, Mater spun his sword around a few times.

“I gave in…”

Tervere Orn Stregos Gleio Powis.

A knight among knights who, instead of being interested in politics or power, leads a small group of knights and relentlessly repels the pagans who raid the coast. His reputation as the strongest knight in the Morning Isles is not taken lightly even on the mainland.

Even though they were not great warriors blessed by Ise, their opponents were pagan warriors who worshipped Ise.

The warriors of Ise are different from the ordinary knights who fight with increasing or decreasing strength, knowingly or unknowingly, bound by justification and discipline. While knights fight for honor, warriors are those who purely enjoy fighting and killing.

The stormy spirit and sharp cruelty of the warriors of Ise were virtues that the human race had long ago lost.

Tervere is a proven knight who has never been defeated in small-scale melees against such warriors and pagans who still maintain their ferocious savagery.

If he had set his mind to religion, he would have achieved great success as a monk.

At least I was sure that Matter himself would have thought highly of him.

A boy who had just become an adult belittled and disparaged Terveer, who was receiving such an evaluation.

Kwak-.

A loud noise is heard from the hand holding the hilt of the sword.

Matter pulled back the hood he was wearing with his empty hands and bared his teeth.

“I guess even the warrior king who was said to have no blood or tears was human after all.”

The mater held the hilt of his sword, shamelessly displaying his shaved head, which was dyed a bluish tint.

It was to show the unfocused, blind eyes hidden under the shadow of the hood and the blue cross symbol carved with a sword mark on the empty forehead.

It was a moment when a personal reason was added to the duel aimed at preventing the spread of the seeds of apostasy.

“I never thought you’d make excuses like those who lack the skills to do so.”

The boy in front of his eyes was insulting all the knights and knights of the time.

The hard work to protect royalty, the blades willingly chosen to be sharpened to protect royalty.

Martha had no intention of tolerating such arrogance.

Even if the boy in front of me is the legend of Bishop Powis Narva’s true identity revived.

But Narva, without showing any sign of being offended, straightened the tip of his sword and began to walk.

“I was being considerate, but you’re taking it too harshly.”

“Consideration? Are you talking about that warrior king?”

“It’s obvious that being groomed by a knight from the frontier is different from kneeling before a saint.”

Human concentration has its limits.

That’s why those who engage in a duel continue the standoff by taking sidesteps rather than rushing in right away.

Narva and Mater were no exception.

The tips of their swords aimed at each other were fixed without a single waver, and their gazes glaring at each other never looked away.

It’s not just about looking into each other’s eyes.

I was judging how my opponent took his steps, how his waist turned, and how much strength he put into his shoulders and chest.

By calculating the stride length, which varies depending on a person’s physique or temperament, by eye alone.

When he swung his sword in one breath, he would advance when he felt the blade touch his opponent, and retreat when he felt it touch him. This was repeated.

The duel was a contest of patience and composure.

Self-punch, self-punch.

The sound of footsteps crushing the broken pieces of deck muffles even the breath.

If he hadn’t been wearing a cloak and a helmet, he would never have been considered a priest, and his murderous intent and fighting spirit were blazing in his eyes.

Still, Narva and Mater did not rush to each other.

Because you could gauge their skills just by looking at the way they stepped and bit.

Even though both of them were stepping dizzily, their center of gravity did not waver. Even though their posture seemed to collapse, the axis itself from the feet to the upper body never wavered.

Self-sacrifice.

Narva deliberately stomped his right foot on the wooden pieces on the floor.

I realized this while grinding it into powder and sweeping it away.

Self-sacrifice.

Beyond the dust that is crushed and swept away by the heels of shoes.

I noticed it when I saw Narva’s feet step forward, carrying his weight.

This is it.

”paint!”

Advances and retreats occurred in an instant.

Narva took a step forward with the tip of his sword straight, as if he was going to charge, then stepped back.

The same was true for Matter.

Instead of rushing forward as if trying to take advantage of an opening, he swept his feet back and retreated.

Advancing and retreating to fool the opponent’s sense of distance had no effect.

The moment I saw it.

Both Narva and Mather raised their swords.

Bang!

The blades clash overhead.

Their blades struck each other’s swords precisely at the center of their weight. There was no reason to avoid or clash with each other’s swords.

Accuracy to aim for the target, and speed that is agile enough to carry weight.

It was thanks to unity that we were able to maintain momentum until the end.

As promised, the two men retrieved their swords at the same time.

As they drew their swords, Narva stepped back with his left foot, and Mater with his right foot.

The fixed gaze, the hand and arm that gripped the sword hilt and extended out spoke volumes.

This time, we are targeting the opponent’s vital points, from the spleen to the abdomen.

Actions taken.

They’re stabbing each other!

Kak!

The overlapping blades avoid each other.

This time, I didn’t put my sword away easily.

Narva turned his sword counterclockwise, trying to completely deflect the tip of Mater’s sword.

Then Matter took one step forward, one step at a time.

He placed his hand on the blade and began to push away Narva’s sword with it.

It’s impossible to bounce it off.

Narva, who immediately changed his judgment, stopped turning his sword and held the blade in the same way, bringing the sword blade against him.

The response soon led to a melee.

Narva and Mater entered into a dizzying struggle, entangling each other’s sword roots and crossguards.

Card grab.

It was inevitable that they would come face to face in a close-quarters fight, a showdown between half-swords.

Unlike the distorted and ferocious Mater, Narva was smiling happily the whole time.

That smile made the tendons on the back of Mater’s hands stand out.

At that moment, when Mater suddenly stretched out the hilt of his sword and tried to catch the blade with his crossguard, Narva raised his sword with his teeth bared.

The bloody struggle ended for a very short time.

Matter immediately raised his sword, holding it horizontally.

Narva held the blade with both hands and brought it down like a hammer.

Kaang!

But it was blocked.

Martha gritted his teeth and pushed away Narva’s sword.

And in an instant, he grabbed the hilt of the sword with both hands and decided to rush at Narva, aiming the sharp tip of the sword at him.

At that moment, Narva appeared to be unable to withstand the recoil and was thrown back.

Now is your chance.

Considering his reputation as the Warrior King, it was a gap that would not come again.

So much so that even Matter was momentarily mistaken.

That’s what he thought until Narva turned around fiercely, pivoting on one foot.

Bang!

The reaction soon became speed.

Narva’s sword, swung diagonally, guided the tip of Mater’s sword in the wrong direction.

However, the knight of the capital city, Martha, was also leading the royal family.

Instead of being shaken by the fact that the tip of the sword was disheveled, he immediately stepped aside and raised his sword.

-To counter the oncoming attack.

Bang!

Swords clash.

Bang, bang!

A fierce offensive that doesn’t even allow a single breath, aimed at breaking the opponent’s posture.

Kagagagagak!

Eyes that roll ceaselessly to identify real attacks without being fooled by the scattered attacks that occur at every moment.

In the midst of his heaving breath and boiling blood, Matter finally came to his true awakening.

The tale of the warrior king’s bravery as he fought the blessed great warriors of Ise one-on-one until the moment of his death.

That legend was completely true.

If there is anyone among humans who can defeat a foreign race in a duel-.

visor!!!!

The duel ended with a loud crash.

A sword bounces off.

The other one was thrown down onto the deck, still holding the handle.

Some with trembling hands, unable to hold anything, while others still held the hilt of their swords tightly.

The loser humbly knelt with his arms folded over his chest.

On the other hand, the winner stood still, calm and composed, as if it were a given, rather than being intoxicated with elation.

“The Lament of Saint Illenius. The last fragment of a shattered kingdom before the starlight reaches it.”

Matter was trembling.

The trembling is not due to the shock of losing the sword.

At this time, neither political reasons nor ideological conflicts based on method were important.

There was only awe towards the being who was the model for all the knights of the capital.

“Your Majesty the Warrior.”

The awe was based on one fact.

“Just now, you could have used your hands and feet while my attention was distracted, but why didn’t you?”

Narva answered the question with a relieved smile.

“I picked up the knife because it didn’t work out.”

“…”

“Even if it was an implicit agreement, we decided to only use the sword, so if we mix in other numbers, it will be fatal.”

Only then did Matter fully understand his opponent.

After understanding, he slowly lowered his head.

The lonely king of a fallen kingdom, called the warrior king by his enemies.

The reason he was canonized as an adult was not just because he fought to the end in Ise and died in battle.

Without the protection of the stars, without the favor of any god, he single-handedly defeated the power once called immortal.

A legend who dragged down the name of Immortal to a tenacious life with only his own skills.

The mastermind opened his mouth, looking down at Mater, who had lost his will to fight and was on his knees.

“however.”

The mater remained silent.

As a loser, and also as a sinner who dared to doubt the saints of the past, I will gladly endure whatever orders are given.

Because I was so prepared, I kept my mouth shut and waited for the treatment.

Narva began to click his tongue at the sight.

“Just because I lost this once, are you going to leave me alone with what I’m doing?”

“…?”

“You can’t just leave the seeds of apostasy unattended, so you’re rushing in.”

I’m not saying that I want you to do something.

Narva continued grumbling.

“Fulfill your mission to be on guard against clearly heretical movements and root them out.”

Only then did Matter realize what Narva was talking about and frown.

“But… You will do everything on your own will…”

“Then. Should I openly ask for your support and get ripped off by those lynx-like guys?”

Matter rested his chin on his hand and fell into deep thought.

It is a statement that is easy to interpret in many ways.

Of course, in the current situation, if I had taken advantage of a time like now to bring it up, my intentions would have had to be narrowed down to one.

but…

“…Your Majesty’s words sound like a request to be on guard and search for the infestation of foreign races in the morning isles.”

“That’s right.”

“Then there was no reason to fight like this…? Of course, giving the pagans a chance to repent is problematic in itself, but if you had said that you would give us a chance to intervene, we wouldn’t have tried to harm Your Majesty so blatantly.”

There was logic and reason in Matter’s words.

The reason why Martyr was targeting Narva was because he was a powerful figure with influence all over the islands in the morning, and there seemed to be no room for compromise.

If they had shown their original stance from the beginning, that they would be wary of other races until the end, there would not have been such unnecessary conflicts as this.

No matter what anyone says, Martyr is a knight who truly respects the life of a warrior king.

But Narva’s thoughts were a little different.

“Then I wouldn’t be able to fight as freely as I do now.”

“?”

“Terve, that is. It was a few years ago that I lost to my brother. Before I was fully grown. I still can’t do it on horseback, but it’s hard to lose when I’m on the ground.”

It’s rare to find someone as skilled at swordsmanship as you.

Narva added, not hiding his satisfied smile.

Matter opened his mouth in bewilderment at the sight.

“Your Majesty, do you truly consider them family?”

“I didn’t originally plan on doing that…”

Is there anything more disgusting than waking up in a state of ecstasy and acting like a child?

So I tried to draw a line without showing any particular feelings, but the world didn’t turn as I thought.

Narva answered, drawing his sword.

“A beautiful person leaves a beautiful place behind. I tried to do as they said and this is what happened.”