285 lines
8.5 KiB
Markdown
285 lines
8.5 KiB
Markdown
---
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title: "Chapter 10: A Life-Changing Opportunity (Part 5)"
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slug: "ch-10"
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novel: "Infinite Mage [Remake]"
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number: 1
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views: 2850000
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likes: 198000
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wordCount: 3600
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createdAt: "2020-01-17"
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---
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The Great Training Hall.
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Shirone arrived precisely on time and saw Rian already waiting for him.
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The battle had already begun in spirit.
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Neither moved from their positions, their eyes locked onto each other’s swords.
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Rian: "Let’s begin."
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Rian’s weapon was also a longsword.
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The bold, sweeping techniques of the Ozent swordsmanship were traditionally better suited for greatswords rather than longswords—but that was only after unlocking one’s Schema.
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Thus, Rian hadn’t chosen the longsword out of consideration for his opponent, but because it suited him.
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His gaze scrutinized Shirone’s stance—the Jeongjoongdong posture, a fundamental swordsmanship stance Shirone had learned as a beginner.
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His center of gravity was far more stable than before.
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’Is this really possible?’
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Having glimpsed Rai’s talent in Shirone, Rian suddenly wondered:
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’Maybe he really never learned swordsmanship before.’
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’More importantly... how can he be this composed when it’s his first time holding a sword? Isn’t he afraid of death?’
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Rian was afraid of death. That was why he trained endlessly—to forge courage.
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’No matter how talented he is, he can’t match the years I’ve poured into training. So how...?’
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Of course, Shirone knew it too.
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As a novice, he couldn’t navigate a life-or-death duel as fluidly as Rian.
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So he had prepared in his own way.
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’If you can’t overcome fear, then understand it.’
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He called it "Jumping off the Cliff."
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If one didn’t imagine the next moment, anyone could leap from a cliff.
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’Fear exists in the future. And the future is nothing but an illusion—it doesn’t exist yet.’
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Like a tyrant with absolute power calmly dining while rebels stormed his gates, Shirone imagined himself standing at the edge of a cliff.
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His right foot stepped forward into the void, his left following—and in his mind, his body hovered in midair.
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’You haven’t fallen until you actually fall. You aren’t dead until you die.’
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Understanding the nature of danger—this was why cold intellect could sometimes be more terrifying than a warrior’s bravery.
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And with that icy clarity, Shirone’s Spirit Zone surged with unprecedented stability.
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Rian: "Haaah!"
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Rian was already upon him.
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A flash of steel streaked across Shirone’s vision—a swordsmanship far beyond his own level.
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’But... I can feel it.’
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Through his heightened senses, Shirone perceived the sword’s trajectory and calmly leaned back.
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His eyes remained open as he evaded, and shock flickered across Rian’s face.
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’He’s tracking the blade?’
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Even seasoned swordsmen couldn’t dodge a real sword by sight alone.
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But the sword, too, was infinite.
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As Rian’s attacks grew faster, gaps began appearing in Shirone’s perception.
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A blade grazed his chest—his Spirit Zone shuddered violently.
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Shirone’s heart sank.
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’Damn it!’
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At this rate, he’d lose.
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But contrary to his expectations, Rian continued with sweeping, exaggerated strikes.
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This allowed Shirone to predict the next trajectory and twist away, narrowly escaping death.
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’Why is he...?’
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A single slash to the flank would have ended it.
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Yet Rian pressed on with broad movements, as if unaware of Shirone’s panic.
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Only then did Shirone realize:
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’His understanding of swordsmanship is shallower than I thought.’
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Though skilled in execution, Rian lacked deeper insight into its essence.
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’Then...’
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Shirone adjusted his estimation of Rian’s ability.
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Complacency was dangerous, but overestimating an enemy robbed one of counterattacking opportunities.
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’Attack.’
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The moment Shirone switched to offense, Rian faltered and retreated.
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Rian: "Tch!"
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Dozens of exchanges later, exhaustion set in—the tension of being on the defensive drained Shirone’s stamina rapidly.
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’Damn it! This can’t be happening!’
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Rian’s strikes were basic, yet—
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’Why are they so hard to block? I can barely even see them!’
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Suddenly, Rai’s face flashed in his mind.
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That infuriating smirk from two years ago, when he’d disarmed Rian with one hand.
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Rian: "Don’t mock me!"
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Rian roared, charging forward.
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Rian: "I will become the greatest swordsman in the world!"
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Shirone was baffled.
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While he admired Rian’s tenacity, this recklessness would only get him killed.
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’Doesn’t he want to win? Why is he so stubborn? Does he even think?’
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Then, in an instant—
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’Huh?’
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Shirone could no longer read Rian’s movements.
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His emptied mind made his strikes unpredictable, chaotic.
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Rian: "I won’t lose! I will surpass you!"
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As Rian seized momentum, Shirone’s stamina hit its limit.
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He had conserved energy as efficiently as possible, but the sheer difference in training was undeniable.
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His sword felt heavier by the second.
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Rian: "This ends now!"
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Rian lunged, his longsword aimed to cleave Shirone’s jaw upward.
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Shirone: "Ghk—!"
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With the last of his strength, Shirone swung downward.
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CLANG!
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A sword spiraled into the air before embedding itself into the far wall.
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Silence.
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Amidst ragged breaths and locked gazes, Rian was the first to lower his eyes.
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The tip of Shirone’s blade rested against his solar plexus.
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’Right before impact...’
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Shirone had twisted his wrist, striking Rian’s sword from below and knocking it skyward.
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The force, combined with Rian’s exhaustion, had wrenched the weapon from his grip.
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’How is this possible?’
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This wasn’t a technique one could execute with mere confidence.
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Only a mind honed to icy precision could decide victory like this.
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Shirone didn’t relax.
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Shirone: "Haah... haah..."
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He wanted to collapse, but he couldn’t throw away the life he’d fought so hard to keep.
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Then—
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Rian: "Tch. I lost."
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He admitted defeat without resistance.
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Rian: "Ah, damn it. Lost again."
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He scratched his head roughly, but the hostility had already vanished.
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He’d trained to his limits and fought his hardest—there were no regrets left.
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Rian: "You won. Kill me if you want—I’ve got nothing to say."
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The childishness of the statement irritated Shirone more than anything.
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Was it possible to be this immature?
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Shirone: "Are you joking right now?"
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Rian: "Huh?"
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Shirone: "If I kill you, do you really think I’d get to live? How can you say something so absurd?"
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Rian: "Absurd? We fought risking our lives, and I’m admitting defeat cleanly."
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Shirone: "You were the only one risking your life! I was just fighting to survive! This whole duel was ridiculous from the start—you pinned a crime on me just because you didn’t want to train!"
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Rian stiffened.
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After such an intense battle, shouldn’t there at least be some lingering passion, if not camaraderie?
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Rian: "Hey! Who’s pinning crimes on you? You were the one acting shady! Any decent person would’ve shown some loyalty in that situation!"
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Shirone: "Loyalty? That’s what you call it?"
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Shirone had held back until now, but with the immediate threat gone, his anger boiled over.
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Shirone: "Did you ever once consider the pressure I’d face caught between the young master and the sword instructor? And you still asked me to cover for you?"
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Rian: "Uh... well—"
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Shirone: "If you were truly a man of loyalty, you’d have been ashamed to burden a mere servant and faced the instructor yourself. That would’ve been the noble, loyal thing to do."
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Rian’s mouth snapped shut.
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He didn’t argue or make excuses—Shirone could tell.
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Rian wasn’t the type to lie. If he had nothing to say, he simply stayed silent.
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But that only annoyed Shirone more. He gave up on lecturing and slumped down.
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Shirone: "Haah... I almost died."
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Rian studied him quietly.
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The boy who had faced death’s terror and pushed him to the brink was gone.
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’Who is he?’
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He was undoubtedly a genius—but he wasn’t Rai.
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Unlike his brother, who had disarmed Rian with a single contemptuous strike, this boy had fought with his entire being.
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Rian: "Hey. What’s your name?"
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Shirone looked up. From his seated position, Rian seemed even larger.
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Shirone: "Arian Shirone."
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Rian: "I’m Ozent Rian."
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The idea of a noble and a commoner exchanging names was laughable, but what baffled Shirone more was—
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Did Rian genuinely not know the name of his own family’s youngest son?
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Before he could dwell on it, Rian stepped closer, forcing Shirone to tilt his head further back.
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A hand the size of a pot lid thrust toward him.
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Rian: "Let’s be friends. What do you say?"
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