CH250 Sword Master Vs Sword Master

***

"Hahaha!" Casper Schaumer's laughter rang out, wild and hysterical.

He shoved off the ground, rising unsteadily before lowering his stance. With his sword held upright before him, he slid into a sharp attacking posture.

His Internal Energy surged, burrowing into his very Blood Essence. The latent power of his Schaumer Sword Bloodline awakened further, enhancing his talent—but bleeding him of vitality with every breath.

An oppressive momentum burst outward.

Tier IV Sword Master.

"This is it, isn't it, Jared Rivia?" Casper's voice was steady now, his eyes alight.

"Yes, indeed." Jared raised his blade, his tone calm, but the fire in his gaze was undeniable. "Come, let me enjoy crossing swords with a Schaumer Sword Master—one last time."

"Enjoy it while you can," Casper spat back coldly. "For afterwards, I will send you to the afterlife."

As the two prepared for their decisive clash, the greater war raged beyond the wall of fire. The battle had already shifted unmistakably in the Fury Army's favour.

The Fury soldiers fought like the undead—unrelenting, tireless. No matter how much damage the Kellerman forces inflicted, shimmering shields would intercept fatal blows, or grievous wounds would heal in mere moments.

Worse, exhaustion never seemed to touch them. Again and again, they unleashed massive techniques, and instead of their strength weakening, it would always rebound. Their movements never faltered for long before returning to its peak.

Their enemies didn't falter, didn't bleed out, didn't stay dead. It was a war of attrition, one in which the Kellerman army was being ground down without hope of victory.

Their only chance now lay with Casper Schaumer. None of the rank-and-file knew General Vance's true identity, but this meant nothing. The fact remained: only a Saint-ranked powerhouse like him could shift the tide.

And so, the Kellerman soldiers held on—barely. Holding their lines with desperate faith that their general could overcome Jared Rivia, Earl Drake Fury's infamous Dark Bulwark Hound, and come to their aid.

Few had time to watch the duel unfolding beyond the raging inferno. Yet all knew instinctively—this clash mattered more than anything.

The two men launched forward.

Clang!

Swords met steel to steel. But strangely, there was no shockwave, no earth-shattering blast. It was almost as if two ordinary blades had struck.

In truth, both had reined in their raw power. Their strength was no longer directed at brute force but at something far sharper—the flow of technique, the depth of concepts.

This was no longer a battle of warriors.

It was a duel between Sword Masters.

Same as always, Casper moved with unceasing flow and relentless momentum. Every strike connected seamlessly into the next, never giving Jared a chance to breathe, much less think.

Casper was like an unyielding hurricane, a tornado that never ceased—coming and coming, bashing and bashing—until everything in its path was swept away.

This was Casper's concept of Unyielding Flow, born from his comprehension of the Laws of Wind.

Meanwhile, Jared's movements were as unpredictable as ever—perhaps even more so this time. No matter how much pressure Casper's endless momentum exerted, Jared always seemed to have an answer. Each time their blades clashed, Casper's force and speed were somehow dissipated.

Only for Jared to follow up with a strike from nowhere—an attack that could not be anticipated until the very last instant.

Because of his size, and his reputation as a defensive knight that had earned him the title of Bulwark, most assumed Jared studied the Laws of Earth.

However, nothing could be further from the truth.

Jared was neither a defensive knight, nor a student of Earth.

Like his Class—something people for some reason always forgot—Jared was a student of the Law of Darkness.

He had not only comprehended Darkness's Engulfing nature, which allowed him to absorb and dissipate incoming strikes—causing others to misjudge him as defensive knight—but he had also grasped Darkness's Veil concept, cloaking the nature of his attacks until the final moment.

Both concepts manifested clearly in Jared's swordplay. Casper's forceful assaults were dissolved and engulf, while his own counters were hidden until the moment of impact.

Against anyone but a fellow Tier IV Weapon Master, this fusion of attack and defence would have already incapacitated his opponent.

The two had already exchanged dozens of strikes in blinding succession, moving at speeds untraceable to the ordinary eye.

Then, a sharp glint flashed in Casper's gaze. Jared's blade came crashing down, only for Casper to meet it head-on. He parried with his sword, slid a step forward, and allowed Jared's blade to glide down his steel. In one smooth motion, he trapped Jared's weapon between the hilt and body of his sword, twisting to wrench it free.

But a mocking smile curved Jared's lips. With a deft roll of his wrist, he reversed the bind, negated Casper's attempt, and immediately forced down a crushing strike.

Casper reacted fast. With a quick step back, both blades missed their mark—but his retreat opened just enough space for him to lunge forward with a thrust.

Jared didn't retreat. He allowed his own blade to finish its swing and guided it back to his shoulder. Then, with a sudden shoulder-bash, he knocked Casper's thrusting sword aside, opening the gap to raise his weapon and cleave downward toward Casper's head.

In that instant, Casper channeled more energy into his wrist and blade. His weapon shot back up in time to parry the overhead strike, rebounding it with force. Flowing with the momentum, he spun his blade outward into a vicious side-sweep, aiming straight for Jared's exposed torso.

'It's over!' Casper's eyes flashed with ruthless resolve.

He smelled blood and victory. At this distance, Jared could never bring his weapon down in time to block. The kill was his.

But Jared was always unpredictable.

Rather than panic, Jared snapped his boot down onto the hilt of Casper's sweeping sword. At the perfect moment in its arc, he forced the blade into the ground. Using that same hilt as leverage, Jared vaulted upward, twisting in the air to deliver a savage kick that cracked against Casper's face.

Casper staggered, disoriented, but endured. His instincts screamed. He wrenched his weapon back up just as Jared rolled through the air and unleashed a wide, sweeping slash.

Steel clashed, sparks flew. Casper caught the strike—but barely.

The force shattered his guard.

A chance like that was something a veteran of countless battlefields like Jared would never waste.

The moment his feet hit the earth, Jared lunged forward. His thrust slipped through the gap torn open in Casper's defence, and the blade pierced clean through the younger man's torso.

Casper's eyes widened in shock as blood welled at his lips.

Jared met his gaze calmly. Inwardly, he admitted, 'As expected of a rich inheritor of the Schaumer bloodline. Casper Schaumer, you are without doubt a powerful swordsman.'

'Truth be told, there is very little difference between us. The only reason I prevailed today… is because I carry more experience than you.'

With a steady pull, Jared drew his sword free.

Casper stumbled back and collapsed onto the ground, his strength spilling away with his blood.

Looking down at his fallen foe, Jared thought grimly, 'As much as I respect your talent, you are a threat to my liege and his household… A threat I cannot allow to remain.

'You fought well, last scion of the Schaumer family.'

He turned and began to walk away.

"One thing…" a voice rasped behind him.

Jared halted.

"Tell me… one thing," Casper said, forcing the words through the blood in his throat. "Why did Drake Fury not kill me back then… when he destroyed my family?"

Jared turned and answered, "For the same reason he didn't kill any of your kin who were your age back then. Unlike your parents and siblings, you weren't responsible for the deaths of his comrades, nor did you stand in his way when he came for the heads of those who were.

"You weren't a threat to him in any way… you hadn't even properly learned to pick up the sword. There was simply no logical reason to kill you."

"Nonsense," Casper spat, blood bubbling at his lips. "You should pull out threats from the root! That is the way of the nobility."

"That may be," Jared replied, his voice calm yet firm. "But it isn't the way of the Mad Wolf, nor the way of the Mad Earl. If any of his victims grow strong enough to oppose him, then let them come. If, in the time they gained that strength, he failed to improve further—or even weakened—then he has no one but himself to blame. That is the Mad Earl's way."

He looked down at the dying man, eyes steady. "And judging from your current state, his way isn't wrong. After all the years you had to prepare, you couldn't even reach Earl Drake's heels. Forget reaching him—you were stopped by a guard and a boy who has come of age for less than a year."

With that, Jared turned and began walking away.

Casper stared up at the sky. As his vision blurred and the light dimmed, memories surged unbidden.

A throne room. Blood pooling across the marble floor. The corpses of his father, his mother, his elder three brothers, his two sisters… all cut down. And standing amidst the slaughter was the silver-haired man drenched in their blood.

The man turned toward him, sheathing his blade before crouching in front of a terrified ten-year-old child.

"My name is Drake Fury," the man said. His voice was cold, but not without weight. "I killed your eldest brother for revenge. The rest of your family fell because they defended him—and tried to kill me.

"You have a choice when you grow up. You can choose to end the cycle of vengeance…"

Drake placed a blood-soaked scroll, taken from Earl Schaumer's body, into the boy's trembling hands.

"…or you can come for me in vengeance, once you've grown strong enough. Just as I have done to your family."

The silver-haired man stood, his cloak heavy with gore, and turned away. "This is your just right."

Within a single week, Drake Fury had destroyed his world—and then left him alive with that choice.

Later, a loyal retainer of his father—one who had been away from the fief on an errand—found the broken boy amidst the ruins and carried him away.

From that moment onward, Casper had chosen.

Even now, as blood poured from his chest and the cold claimed him, he did not know if he regretted his decision. But he accepted his failure.

"Father… mother… sisters…" His lips curved into a faint, weary smile. "I am coming home."

Bathed in the embrace of the rising sun, Casper Schaumer, last scion of the Schaumer family, drew his final breath.

***

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.