I’m Here to End This Fight

Chapter 231. The Ultimate Technique of Magic Flow (1)

A hazy consciousness began to settle in his muddled mind.

Along with it, his awareness started to flicker in and out.

However, his body still wasn’t ready to wake up; his eyelids felt heavy as if they weighed a thousand pounds.

But Yuri didn’t rush to move and leisurely enjoyed the current situation.

‘This… doesn’t feel bad.’

No, to be honest, it felt good.

The moments just before he fainted replayed in his mind, and every time he recalled them, a tickling sensation spread through his chest.

His heart pounded vigorously.

‘I did it… more than halfway!’

It felt like just the other day when he had walked fifteen steps for the first time, but in this recent attempt, he managed to walk a whopping fifty-one steps.

And he had achieved that purely through his own abilities.

That meant he had covered half the distance toward the Sword Master’s benchmark.

‘Even though that benchmark was set by the Sword Master over forty years ago…’

Hadn’t Johan said so before?

The current standard of the Hundred Steps was set based on the Sword Master’s achievements forty years ago.

It was aligned with the level when the Sword Master first initiated the Hundred Steps Ceremony.

Thus, the Sword Master of forty years ago and the Sword Master of today were worlds apart.

Yet, even fully aware of that, Yuri was simply elated.

‘No matter what… the fact remains that I’ve grown.’

In just one year, he had covered half the distance of the Sword Master’s fifty steps from forty years ago; in another year, he just needed to cover the remaining half.

And from there, he would start anew and walk towards the current Sword Master, not the one from the past.

Yuri was confident.

So, wasn’t it alright to purely rejoice in his achievements, at least for now?

‘Yeah, sometimes you need results like this to feel motivated!’

A profound sense of accomplishment filled Yuri’s heart.

Fueled by this, the warmth that originated from his heart soon spread throughout his body, gradually waking up Yuri’s long-dormant form.

Srrrk-.

Yuri’s eyelids slowly lifted.

‘Where is this…?’

His blurry vision settled on a familiar ceiling.

It was his own quarters.

‘Who brought me here?’

He recalled how he had fainted during his first Hundred Steps Ceremony and woke up in the infirmary.

But now, he found himself waking up in his own haven instead of the infirmary.

The mere fact that he had a place to return to brought Yuri a sense of stability.

As he gazed at the ceiling with a light smile.

“You’re awake?”

An oversized face abruptly intruded into his now-clear view.

Yuri’s expression instantly contorted at the sight of the large, unkempt face.

“Ugh, I was feeling good, and the first thing I see when I open my eyes is this old geezer’s mug.”

Normally, Johan would have already thrown a punch at such an insolent remark.

However, having been waiting all this time for Yuri to wake up, Johan had a mountain of questions he wanted to ask, so he jumped straight to questioning.

“Are you the Sword Master’s son?”

“…What nonsense are you spouting? You think I’m the Sword Master?”

“No, I’m asking if you’re the Sword Master’s offspring. Like those Gunther or Gunther-like guys.”

“……?”

Yuri blinked, utterly perplexed by the absurdity of the question.

“Damn it, is this brat still half-asleep? Why are you struggling to understand simple words!”

“You gotta say something that makes sense! How am I supposed to understand this nonsense about sucking a beggar’s toes?”

Thwack!

“Ouch!”

Yuri ended up getting smacked squarely.

Clutching his forehead, he bolted upright and glared at Johan.

“Damn it, why’d you hit me!”

“To wake you up.”

“I’ve been awake for a while now, you senile old man!”

“Then answer me. Are you… the Sword Master’s blood? Are you of the Ryder lineage?”

At Johan’s unusually serious tone, Yuri scowled.

“What the hell are you blabbering about? How could I be of the Sword Master’s blood?”

At Yuri’s incredulous retort, Johan squinted at him.

‘Looking at him, it doesn’t seem like it, but still….’

The Ryder family.

An absolute lineage that claimed the place of the fallen Enrite royal family after the emergence of the Sword Master and enjoyed prosperity unparalleled in the continent’s history.

The family’s defining physical traits were blond hair and black eyes.

Without exception.

In contrast, Yuri had black hair and golden eyes.

Precisely the opposite of the Ryder’s lineage.

‘Still, having black and gold as common features… could there be a connection?’

With that thought, Johan came to a conclusion.

“I got it!”

“What?”

“You’re… a mutation of the Ryder family!”

“I figured it out too!”

“What did you figure?”

“This old geezer has finally gone senile!”

Or rather, maybe he went senile ages ago, and his condition had just worsened recently.

Yuri thought this as he looked at Johan.

Meanwhile, Johan, convinced of his seemingly plausible speculation, folded his arms and nodded.

“Of course! Considering your outrageous talent… and that naturally annoying temperament! No wonder every time I see you, I get riled up! Yeah, now everything makes sense!”

“……”

“So, you were the Ryder family’s unlucky mutation! Try to remember! Don’t you recall anything from when you were young? Like, any memories from when you were a baby?”

“…How could I remember something like that?”

“Can’t even do that? Useless brat.”

“You really are a senile old man….”

Yuri’s fists began to tremble with frustration.

Finally unable to hold back any longer, he exploded in anger.

“If you keep spouting this stale old drivel, just get lost!”

At Yuri’s booming shout, Johan rubbed his ears.

“Damn it, why are you yelling like that? Just think about it seriously. Don’t you have any memories from when you were young? Like your parents’ faces… things like that.”

“How would I know that? I was abandoned with my umbilical cord still attached, and some old lady picked me up and raised me.”

“Old lady?”

“Yeah, a really cranky person. A lot like you, you old geezer.”

“Hmm… didn’t you hear anything from her?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what about your last name? Did it come from the old lady?”

“No, I made it myself. And the first name too.”

“…What?”

“The old lady called me all sorts of names—‘hey you,’ ‘that brat,’ ‘good-for-nothing,’ ‘damned kid,’ and so on. But I figured I’d need an actual name to introduce myself to others, and having a decent surname would be nice too… so I made them up.”

“Huh, to think you named yourself and even gave yourself a surname….”

Johan looked at Yuri with a face filled with a small sigh.

‘What kind of childhood did this kid have?’

Under Johan’s gaze, Yuri’s face scrunched up immediately.

“What’s with that look? Like you’re pitying a dirty orphan?”

“……”

“I’m not that pitiful, you know? I’ve lived quite well, in my own way.”

“…How did you live?”

“Just like everyone else?”

“I’m asking how.”

Faced with Johan’s persistent questioning, Yuri’s scowl faded.

He let out a small sigh and began to recount his life.

He spoke in such a nonchalant tone.

“Well… to be honest, I didn’t live well, but I lived earnestly.”

Starting from the day he was abandoned in the pouring rain.

The story of how the old lady who found him had a nasty temper but still gave him at least one meal a day.

However, not long after, around the age of five, she started kicking him out, saying she’d let him sleep but that he had to figure out how to pay for his meals.

That was when he first tried begging, and thanks to the relatively kind villagers, he managed to eat about once every two days.

The story of how he discovered the wonders of bartering when he exchanged firewood he gathered with his tiny hands for a loaf of bread.

And how he was stunned when he saw a small silver coin being traded for a dozen loaves of bread after he had to gather so much wood just for one loaf.

Then, around the age of seven, a bloody wind swept through his village, and he summoned an Avatar to wipe out the invaders.

After taking revenge, he wandered the world until he met Johan.

Yuri, for the first time since meeting Johan, briefly shared his past.

Things he would have never spoken of before.

Then, as if something had dawned on him, Yuri’s expression shifted.

“Ah! Come to think of it, maybe that was my first enlightenment! The greatness of money! That thrilling and eye-opening moment… the feeling of my world expanding is something I’ll never forget!”

Watching Yuri chatter on excitedly, Johan’s expression turned even more sorrowful.

“…Kid.”

“What.”

“I’ll… go easier on you from now on.”

…Not pitiful?

This brat was even more pitiful than he thought.

Johan finally understood why Yuri was so insolent.

‘He was just an unlearned kid.’

Growing up in such an environment, it was no wonder he turned out this way.

In fact, it was inevitable.

An infant abandoned with the umbilical cord still attached, without even a name.

He had forged his own identity by giving himself a name and

a surname.

Thrown into a harsh world far too cruel for a frail child to survive alone.

To survive, he must have had to harbor a fierce determination.

‘It’s that very resolve that kept him alive.’

With this new understanding of Yuri, Johan stroked his chin as he looked at him.

“Hmm… so you really aren’t of Ryder blood.”

Yuri’s explanation about being abandoned as an infant.

Just from that, it was unlikely that he was of Ryder descent.

No matter how his hair and eye colors were a reversed mutation, and even if he was an illegitimate child, the Ryder bloodline was meticulously managed by the family.

There was no chance that someone with Ryder blood would be abandoned by the family.

And as Johan muttered to himself, Yuri gave him an annoyed look.

“I told you so many times already that I’m not!”

Johan’s expression became serious.

“Then… how the hell did you manage that?”

“What?”

“That ultimate technique mimicking the Black Blood.”

Yuri instantly understood why Johan had been pestering him all this time.

With a smirk, as if it was no big deal, he replied.

“You mean the Frenzy?”

* * *

The southern region of the Dragon’s Cradle.

The residence of the Sword Master.

A place so sacred that even lower-ranked members of the Black Sword Corps couldn’t easily approach, yet a cadet in full attire appeared there.

Of course, he wasn’t just any cadet.

He was Gunther Ryder, a relative of the Sword Master.

Clack—thud.

Gunther entered silently, without making a sound, as the sliding doors closed behind him.

Thud—.

He made his presence known by the sound of kneeling in the center of the room.

And directly before him.

Sitting with his chin propped up on a piece of furniture that was perhaps a bed or a sofa, was the Sword Master.

“……”

The Sword Master’s languid gaze.

That look, as if asking why he had come, met Gunther’s hardened expression as he spoke.

“Sword Master… no, Father.”

The Sword Master showed a slight interest in the title he hadn’t heard from his youngest son in a long time.

Since turning eight, Gunther had never called him “Father.”

“When I turned eighteen and became an adult, you promised me a modest gift, nothing excessive.”

“……”

“I would like to receive that gift now.”

The Sword Master’s interest waned as Gunther spoke.

After all this time, his son had come only to ask for a gift.

“Speak.”

At the Sword Master’s indifferent command, Gunther clenched his fist.

“Allow me….”

He looked directly at the Sword Master, his voice clear.

“Grant me the right to participate in the future Hundred Steps Ceremony!”

The voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a deep sense of earnestness.

Within it, the Sword Master detected a fierce anger and longing, which caused his expression to shift subtly.