Chapter 26 The Masters Class (3)
To the left of Dean Erzebet stood the masked examiners, while Gael was positioned to the right. Silveryn observed the arena from a place apart from them.
Gael walked up to Damian and briefly explained the rules of the examination.
“You need to penetrate the Plantara’s defense and cut down the flag. You have ten minutes. There’s a tall hourglass next to the examiners to check the remaining time.”
“Understood.”
Gael returned to her original position.
Damian slowly entered the arena.
His face showed no trace of fear, even facing the colossal wooden puppets nearly twice his height. He simply looked at them calmly, and before starting, he knelt on one knee and closed his eyes as if in a moment of silent prayer for about thirty seconds. Then he stood up and looked at the examiners.
Damian seemed ready.
Upon Gael’s cue, four escort knights sounded their heralding horns simultaneously.
A piercing sound echoed through the arena, announcing the beginning of the examination.
The Plantara reacted by aiming their wooden swords at Damian.
Damian too drew his sword from his waist.
A total of ten Plantara.
Spread out in a defensive line, Damian would need to break through a total of five rows.
Given the enormous size difference, even a single direct hit could be fatal.
He began to quicken his pace, charging toward the nearest Plantara and swinging his sword.
Clang!
Damian’s strike hit the Plantara’s hip joint squarely. It appeared he swung with all his might, yet it was as if striking steel – no mark was left.
The Plantara immediately counterattacked.
The puppet swung upwards in a half-circle, aiming to knock Damian away.
For its heavy size, it was astonishingly quick to react.
With a thud, Damian was thrown into the air, landing where he started.
The examiners whispered a faint sigh at this.
Gael muttered to herself in disbelief.
“Unbelievable.”
To her, Damian seemed to swing his sword with no finesse as if it were a club rather than a blade.
He was an amateur in its most basic form.
Silveryn’s intentions for this test grew suspect in Gael’s mind.
Damian quickly got back on his feet. Thanks to his sword deflecting the blow, he had avoided serious injury.
He did not bother to dust himself off before charging again.
The Plantara positioned in the first row struck down towards Damian’s head as he entered their range.
Damian dodged and thrust his sword into the knee joint of the Plantara on his left and twisted.
The Plantara, its knee control lost, toppled over.
The second row Plantara closed in and plunged its sword directly toward Damian.
He retreated a step, just as planned and avoided the strike.
Crack!
The oncoming wooden sword shattered the fallen Plantara’s right arm.
Another Plantara from the second row joined to support, but Damian ducked low and slid between a third row Plantara’s legs.
The second and third row pursuing him tangled up due to their momentum and fell together.
Cleverly utilizing their top-heavy weight distribution to his advantage, he had forced the heavy puppets to entangle one another.
Understanding that regular sword attacks weren’t effective, he shifted strategy to cause confusion.
“Hmm.”
Even Gael had to acknowledge that point. His succinct footwork and rapid adaption to a more favorable strategy showcased an excellent combat sense.
The remaining Plantara from the first, second, and third rows charged simultaneously at Damian.
Taking advantage of his relatively smaller physique, Damian evaded the assaults from all directions in a nearly acrobatic fashion.
A soft murmur of admiration spilled out from among the examiners upon witnessing this.
But it wasn’t enough.
In the midst, a third row Plantara that had regained its footing struck Damian’s abdomen with its wooden sword.
Clang!
Barely managing to block with his sword, Damian was sent skidding backward.
Despite parrying the blow, it was so forceful that it still seemed to cause significant damage. Taking advantage of his momentary daze, a first row Plantara that had lost its arm proceeded to kick him.
Damian’s body flew and landed back at the starting point.
There were 6 minutes remaining.
Damian once again picked himself up.
“Cough.”
Blood dribbled from his mouth.
The Plantara reassembled their formation.
Apart from severing one arm, everything else had been reset to the beginning. Moreover, Plantara could wield a sword with either hand, so losing one arm meant they could simply pick up the weapon with the other.
As time progressed, the Plantara’s aggression only increased. Those that had been stimulated excessively would no longer merely attempt to subdue but tried to kill outright.
Sensing the examination would end unceremoniously, Gael shook her head.
‘It’ll end without even reaching Flynn.’
Backing out early might be better than incurring severe injuries with lasting repercussions. Even if Damian could somehow maneuver through the Plantara with clever tricks, he would ultimately have to contend with Flynn’s sword aura.
After catching his breath for a moment, a subtle change started to occur in Damian.
Gael narrowed her eyes.
‘Eye glow?’
There was a faint golden gleam to his eyes.
Whether from artifact interaction or some special potion he had ingested, Gael did not think this change could lead to any significant success.
Gripping his sword tightly, Damian plunged back into the formation of Plantara.
Their wooden swords swiftly converged on his shoulders.
And, contrary to Gael’s expectations, Damian easily twisted his body and evaded their strikes.
His movements were noticeably improved.
Though the Plantara’s aggression heightened and they engaged more proactively in combat, Damian was quicker and more adept.
Instead of merely evading as he had before, he adopted an offensive tactic.
As the wooden swords swept past his head and shoulders, he stabbed his sword into the ankle joint of one Plantara and retreated for an evasion, only to quickly bite down and strike the same spot again.
After three repetitive attacks, the Plantara’s ankle snapped with a decisive crack.
Having focused on the area with the most load and therefore the weakest, Damian penetrated deeper, doing the same to a Plantara in the third row. After its ankle broke and it fell, he stepped on its body to induce further attacks.
The strikes meant for Damian instead struck the fallen Plantara.
With a crunch, the disabled Plantara was shattered, rendered motionless.
Immediately, Damian sprinted toward the fourth row as the remaining Plantara pursued him.
Gael swallowed.
After three attempts, he had figured out a strategy. No matter how much training a student had, anyone would concede and lay down their sword in the face of such an overwhelming force.
But the boy had stubbornly found a way through.
Gael could finally appreciate to some extent why Silveryn had brought him.
Many students stood out for their swordsmanship in the academy. After all, only geniuses could gain admittance.
What the boy had demonstrated was not mere swordsmanship but an innate sense of combat itself.
Though he might fail this examination due to lack of time, with proper training in swordsmanship, he would maintain top grades at Eternia.
Just that – nothing more.
He wasn’t yet ready for the Masters Class.
Damian struggled to even advance to the fourth row, as the trailing Plantara began barraging him with attacks.
No matter how agile, evading this tremendous onslaught was a tall order.
Only 3 minutes and 30 seconds remained.
Considering the confrontation with Flynn, it was a practical certainty of failure. To overcome Flynn, it wasn’t tricks that were needed, but to overpower with ‘the sword.’
Feeling his limits, Damian lunged at the fourth row Plantara. He ducked under a wooden sword and leapt forward, stepping on a second row Plantara’s thigh.
His larger movement momentarily exposed him to an attack.
A hand from a nearby Plantara reached for his leg.
And just before it could grab him, Damian delivered his final blow.
He hurled his sword straight at Flynn.
The sword spun rapidly through the air toward Flynn, who forcefully deflected it.
Clang!
Damian’s sword flew off, burying itself somewhere too far to retrieve.
Caught by the leg in midair, Damian was thrown down hard onto the ground.
He was discarded where the first row Plantara had stood.
3 minutes remained.
Was that the last-ditch effort, sensing his limit?
Since the sword had left his hand, there was nothing more to see.
The Plantara, their aggression intensified from the battle, started closing in on Damian. If left unchecked, they would turn him to pulp.
The examiners all fell silent.
“It’s over.”
As Gael was about to step forward, Dean Erzebet raised a hand to halt her.
“Not yet.”
When Gael looked at Erzebet with a puzzled face, she smirked.
“…?”
Damian pushed off the ground, slowly getting up and then kneeling on one knee. He watched the approaching Plantara quietly, much like someone facing a dangerous beast.
Despite their menacing advance, Damian did not seem to intend to flee or dodge.
Gael watched, unable to comprehend.
‘What is he doing?’
Damian made no move, only closing his eyes, as he had done at the very beginning.
The Plantara quickly encircled him.
They raised their wooden swords, and just as they were about to strike down in unison,
light flared.
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