The declaration of war from Orc Elder Behera ignited a chaotic melee, marking the opening stages of the Species Duel. However, the fierce fighting did not last long. There was one crazed race that ignored the customs of the arena and feared nothing—not even the combined resentment of every other species present.
The five other races were utterly repulsed by the green madness of the Orcs.
The fighters were certain of one thing: if they clashed with those lunatics until the end, regardless of victory or defeat, dozens—if not hundreds—of them would meet their end right here. No fighter present desired such a hollow conclusion.
The Infinite Duel was a stage for those who had already proven themselves.
This meant that most of the fighters here had more to lose than to gain. No one was willing to fight those death-defying, green monsters just to protect a bit of racial pride. Besides, this was only the Species Duel—the first match of the Infinite Duel, which offered the meagerest rewards. With two more duels to go, risking one’s life here was the height of stupidity.
“Come at me! I said, fight me!”
Indeed.
The only ones capable of such stupidity were the Orcs, whose brains were pickled in the brine of combat. At the Orcs’ thunderous roars, the fighters of the other five races scattered to the outskirts of the Black Forest.
Thus, the layout within the Black Forest arena became simple. The Orcs occupied the center of the forest, while the other five races divided the outskirts among themselves. As if by an unspoken agreement, the five races only fought each other, never daring to challenge the Orcs entrenched in the center.
The reason was simple.
If you fought another race and lost, you might suffer a blow to your pride and be eliminated, but that was it. If you fought an Orc and lost, you died. You weren’t just eliminated from the duel; you were eliminated from life. Furthermore, those crazy Orc bastards were psychopaths who, once a fight started, would see it through to the end regardless of whether the opponent surrendered or not.
“This turned into a more interesting picture than I expected.”
Thanks to that terrifying reputation, the Orcs were leading the rankings of the Species Duel without even having to lift a finger against the other races. The spectators watching the broadcast followed the scene with fascination.
“They’ve bought themselves time without being checked by the other races.”
“Winning without fighting. At times like this, it’s hard to believe the saying that Orcs are ignorant. Haven’t they naturally taken the most advantageous position?”
While the other races whittled each other down, the Orcs—having become the ‘ones you don’t touch’—hadn’t lost a single member since the initial clash. Despite being the first to step forward and draw attention, they had become the race managing the match most stably. Conversely, the five races that had scattered to save themselves were seeing their numbers plummet as they collided with one another.
“Such bold strategies are exactly why Orcs have won the Species Duel the most. Orcs are a crude lot, but they aren’t stupid when it comes to fighting. They are a race born to win, living only for victory.”
“Indeed, Orcs instinctively know how to achieve victory.”
“Let’s see how the other races are faring.”
The five scattered races engaged in guerrilla warfare on the outskirts of the Black Forest. After the initial melee, the Species Duel had shifted entirely into a series of skirmishes.
And as the five races clashed, a frontrunner emerged.
“The Elves are certainly overwhelming in this kind of fight.”
The Elves.
The ones most active in the guerrilla warfare among the five races were the Elves. Born in the forest and living their entire lives within it, these fairies clearly demonstrated why they were called the ‘masters of the hunt’ among all races.
“Who could possibly beat a fairy in the forest?”
“True enough.”
Facing an Elf in the forest was akin to jumping into the ocean naked to fight a shark. Having lived in the woods longer than any of the seven races, these children of the forest, born of the Great World Tree, struck down fighters one after another as if playing with toddlers. Their victims were eliminated without even knowing how they had fallen or where the attack had come from.
Watching the fighters fall so helplessly, one might even think this Species Duel was becoming dull. It felt as though the result had already been decided.
In fact, some among the spectators voiced exactly that.
“The Orcs or the Elves will win. It’s obvious.”
“This is getting damn boring.”
However, not many agreed with them.
“Is this your first time watching an Infinite Duel?”
Because…
“The Species Duel hasn’t even truly begun yet, you short-sighted fools.”
The spectators who had seen countless past matches knew better.
“Just shut up and watch. You’re about to find out why this match is called the Species Duel.”
The curtain had not yet truly risen.
“What do you mean by that…?”
“The Orcs were simply the first to show their fangs, and the Elves were the second.”
“…”
“There is no hierarchy among the seven races of the continent. They simply possess different kinds of fangs. Soon, the other races will reveal theirs as well.”
Indeed, this was no ordinary duel.
“It’s gotten quite dark. Night has fallen.”
The duel they were watching was the Species Duel.
“The ones to reveal their fangs next have already been decided.”
* * *
As night fell, we moved without rest according to Seol-yoon’s directions.
“I have one question, though.”
“What is it?”
“I heard the Species Duel lasts for several days. It sounds like we’ll be fighting for at least three days… do we really have to go that entire time without sleep just because of the Demon Race?”
That seemed excessively harsh.
No matter how much the Path granted superhuman strength, the body wouldn’t function normally after such a forced march. The other fighters would likely be in the same boat.
Seol-yoon answered my question.
“Yes. Even if it takes five days or a week, it’s better not to sleep. Everyone else will probably do the same.”
“Why go that far…?”
“That’s because you don’t know anything about the Demon Race.”
Seol-yoon gave a blunt, cold warning.
“If you accidentally doze off even once, you’ll bitterly regret not listening to me.”
“…”
“Sleeping at night when the Demon Race is around is no different from jumping into a pit of fire yourself. I mean it.”
Seol-yoon didn’t offer a detailed explanation.
Following behind her, I asked Liam.
‘Master, do you know about the Demon Race as well?’
「I know them all too well. It’s sickening.」
‘Then is Seol-yoon’s warning valid?’
At my question, Liam hummed in thought for a moment. Then, he replied.
「Young descendant.」
‘Yes.’
「If you’re curious about what hell looks like, feel free to try and get some sleep.」
“…”
Those words chased away every hint of drowsiness.
* * *
Seol-yoon and my destination was the outskirts. Our strategy was to circle the edge of the perimeter, observe how the situation was unfolding, and then act. However, the process of heading toward the outskirts of the Black Forest was not smooth.
“…They’re fighting quite fiercely.”
On the outskirts of the Black Forest, various fighters were battling over their respective territories. It was the guerrilla war of the five races, excluding the Orcs. My Doubt quickly deduced the reason for this pattern.
‘It’s the snowball the Orcs started rolling.’
When Orc Elder Behera declared war, the other races gave up on facing the Orcs. To fight an Orc meant you had to be prepared to die. Those crazy green monsters did not fear death and did not hesitate to kill other fighters. Therefore, those who valued their lives excluded the option of fighting Orcs from the start.
Consequently, the remaining five races all made the same choice, resulting in a push-and-pull struggle to occupy the outskirts. In fact, this flow wasn’t entirely bad for them. Even if they lost in this guerrilla war, they would only be eliminated with a bruised ego, whereas losing to the Orcs in the center meant certain death.
‘The Orcs’ strategy was powerful.’
Whether it was a calculated strategy or just pure madness, one thing was certain: the influence the Orcs exerted on the Species Duel was immense.
Now, the Orcs held the advantage in the Species Duel just by sitting quietly in the center. Even if the victory condition was to capture the King, having more healthy fighters was ultimately advantageous. In a team battle like this, numbers were power.
So, even though the start was violent, the Orcs ended up being the race managing the match most stably among the six.
‘The Elves are the ones performing most brilliantly in the guerrilla war.’
The fairies, called the children of the forest, clearly proved why they were known as the ‘masters of the hunt.’ Watching their incredible performance, I realized that the Elf I had defeated was merely a young one, a nobody. If a true Elf had ambushed us, Seol-yoon and I would have woken up in the recovery room.
As a chill ran down my spine, Seol-yoon spoke.
“Draw your sword, Small Gladiator.”
“Pardon?”
“From here on, it’ll be hard for us to move while hiding.”
After hearing Seol-yoon’s words, I extended my Path in all directions. Soon, numerous presences were detected. At the same time, I felt a clear hostility directed at us.
“We have to break through.”
“I agree.”
“Small Gladiator.”
“I’m listening.”
Seol-yoon gripped her sword tightly and said, “If it looks dangerous, reveal immediately that you are the King. Then the other human fighters will help you right away. The people gathered here will definitely be of help.”
“…”
“If you don’t do it, I will. As I always say, you can’t just go and die. I intend to stay with you until the end.”
If anyone else had said that, my heart might have fluttered. But Seol-yoon said it without a single change in her expression.
I nodded at her serious words. “Yes. I will survive.”
At that moment, an intense killing intent, like being pricked by an awl, poured in from all sides.
And then.
『I vowed not to be swept away by anything.』
Along with that, the memory of Gale surged powerfully.
『What is needed to avoid being swept away?』
『After much deliberation, I reached a conclusion.』
The voice of the sword growled in my head.
『One must not be bound by anything.』
『Just as no leash can bind the wind.』
『Just as no prison dares to confine the wind.』
. . .
『I decided to become a more perfect wind.』
Simultaneously, the numerous gazes and killing intent pressing down on me began to vanish. The surrounding battlefield noise, the roars of fighters, and the scent of blood all evaporated.
I slowly closed my eyes.
It felt as if everything except me had disappeared. It felt as if I were the only existence left in this world.
『The wind must be free.』
The voice of Gale echoing in my head grew as loud as thunder. Then, the wind pouring from all directions touched my skin. The wind touching my skin drew countless paths in my mind. This was not the path seen by a Sword Walker. This was the path of the wind.
The absolute path created by the collision and entanglement of every flow in the world. An inevitable current. The moment I felt it, I swung the sword in my hand.
The blade I swung did not aim at the enemies. Instead, it traced elegant curves, slicing through the air as if performing a sword dance.
The next moment, I opened my eyes.
“…!”
In front of me stood numerous fighters with startled eyes.
The various weapons they held were tangled in a chaotic mess. At the center of that entanglement was the sword I held. Looking at them, I gave the blade a single twist.
A wind blew, and soon the tangled weapons were flung in various directions with a violent metallic screech. It was as if a sudden gale had swept through.
* * *
‘…He’s performing another strange trick.’
Seol-yoon marveled inwardly as she watched Arhan wielding Gale. From the moment he gripped his sword, Arhan became a completely different person. Though brief, Arhan had become a Ronin wearing a bamboo hat. And the Ronin’s sword was something so mysterious that even Seol-yoon found it difficult to understand.
But she couldn’t afford to be distracted only by Arhan’s sword.
“Whew.”
Seol-yoon also had to overcome this situation.
Holding her sword, she contended with the swarming fighters. Her sword was beautiful, steeped in Eastern colors that differed from Arhan’s. The moment Seol-yoon swung her sword, a Taegeuk was drawn.
Following the trajectory Seol-yoon traced, the weapons thrust by the fighters were deflected helplessly. Simultaneously, their openings sparkled like dots in Seol-yoon’s eyes. The sparkling gaps and the tip of Seol-yoon’s blade were connected by the Path. In that instant, Seol-yoon’s sword shot out like a lightning bolt, piercing their vital points.
“What the—”
It was a feat created by mixing the Eastern sword arts she had learned with the Needle Arhan had shown her. A high-speed thrust following a single perfect defense. It was a simple yet genius use of the sword.
“Fuuh.”
To begin with, unless one was at the level of a Sword Runner, it was impossible to defeat Seol-yoon in a clash of blades. Her genius talent was brilliant enough for even Liam to acknowledge, and her swordsmanship was far more mature than Arhan’s.
However.
“Fire!”
The match taking place here was the Species Duel.
“Blow it all up!”
Not every race used the sword. The races widely distributed across the continent had honed their own weapons to survive. Among them were some that could be called cowardly.
For instance.
“We don’t need to strike them down ourselves. It’s night now!”
The act of spraying a toxic substance into the air that penetrated the respiratory system and induced extreme drowsiness upon all the fighters engaged in the fierce battle.
To put it simply, a terrorist attack using sleeping powder.
“You—you fucking Dwarf bastards!”
“Cover your noses! If you breathe in even a little, you’re fucked—”
That was a strategy favored by the Dwarves.
A cowardly but undeniably effective weapon the Dwarves had honed over their long history to survive in the Sky Mountains. A despicable tool handcrafted by ‘Artisans’ who possessed the finest craftsmanship among the seven races.
“You sons of bitches, you fight like shit!”
“Thanks for the compliment, you idiots!”
To the Dwarves, who considered cowardice a strategy, no matter how much you cursed them, it only sounded like high praise. Thus, as the grayish powder swept across the battlefield like a fog, several fighters who had inhaled it began to drool and doze off while standing.
‘…This is bad—’
Seeing this, Seol-yoon withdrew her clashing sword and hastily backed away. The moment Seol-yoon covered her nose and mouth, a horrific scream erupted from the surroundings.
“───!”
It was a sound far too terrible to have come from a living creature. An indescribable, eerie shriek. A sound that evoked a deep sense of revulsion from the bottom of one’s heart. The moment she heard it, Seol-yoon was certain.
‘The Demon Race…’
The Nobles of the Night had arrived.
Now that they had appeared, a normal fight was no longer possible. Frowning, Seol-yoon looked around the area filled with the grayish powder.
‘Where is the Small Gladiator?’
Had Arhan, who was fighting so intensely, dealt with this sudden situation properly?
She didn’t know. When Arhan started a fight, he always became excessively immersed in the sword; in such a state, he might not have been able to respond appropriately to this situation. Therefore, Seol-yoon urgently searched for Arhan.
And then.
‘…?’
Seol-yoon witnessed a rather strange scene.
‘What… is that?’
The grayish powder scattered everywhere. The powder floating like mist was gathering toward a single point. No, it was rotating—as if a whirlwind were blowing.
For some reason, Seol-yoon stared blankly at the bizarre phenomenon for a moment. And as she watched the anomaly, Seol-yoon saw one more thing.
‘The Small Gladiator is…’
At the center of the whirlwind. Arhan was there.
No. That wasn’t right. It wasn’t Arhan.
Standing there…
‘Has he ever become such a vividly different person before?’
…was a Ronin wearing a bamboo hat.
