Published: August 15, 2025
Today, four chapters posted simultaneously.
This is the second chapter of the story.
(Why am I still alive…)
The sound of clashing swords echoed, and the sparks born from the strikes dissolved into the light of the campfire.
One of the black-clad figures who witnessed this thought Ryoma had been finished off.
They believed he was already trapped by the brothers splitting to the left and right, pinching him in a pincer attack, unable even to react.
But Ryoma was still alive.
More than that, he was currently facing two assassins, surviving their fierce sword fight.
The weapons of the Greatsword Brothers were greatswords nearly as tall as an adult. Each strike carried the weight and skill worthy of their name “Greatsword.” Compared to lighter swords, their attacks involved bigger, heavier movements.
However, by surrounding themselves with ki throughout their bodies, the two enhanced their physical abilities and equipment. As a result, they possessed mobility beyond what their appearance suggested, and by slightly shifting their attack timing, they covered each other’s openings. Their attacks were not slow enough to be easily dodged.
Even so, the brothers’ attacks did not hit Ryoma.
His movements were so small and effortless that the black-clad assassin briefly mistook him for being unable to react at all. Ryoma skillfully slipped out of the greatsword’s path, evading every strike, only deflecting the unavoidable ones with precision, overcoming all the incoming attacks. More than that, he even tried to counterattack during the brothers’ brief moments of vulnerability.
(This is beyond all standards.)
The attackers present here had shared intelligence on Ryoma’s combat capabilities based on prior information and predictions.
Among them, Ryoma’s possible proficiency in martial arts was naturally considered.
However, it was believed that Ryoma’s main strength lay in “magic” used for tasks like city snow removal and building demolition, or “familiars” such as slimes.
This was because the magic was openly acknowledged by Ryoma himself and was so integrated into daily life that there was no doubt about it. As for familiars, it was widely known that he commanded a large number of slimes; while each individual slime was weak, their sheer numbers posed a challenge.
On the other hand, information about his martial arts skills was scarce. Apart from overwhelming a group of young delinquent adventurers and a few rumors, the level of caution was relatively low compared to magic and familiars.
Furthermore, considering Ryoma’s age “within reason,” even if he had some knowledge, it was hard to imagine his martial arts skills surpassing his magic.
How much time would one have to invest in magic training to wield such powerful magic at his age? Seeing the boy’s magic firsthand, how many would judge his martial arts as superior? Would anyone believe a boy around ten years old was actually an adult man with nearly 40 years of training?
Rather, the black-clad assassins, who had sealed his magic with magic tools, brought in the capable Greatsword Brothers and support personnel—this was thorough preparation. If their target were an ordinary child (………………), their job would have already been completed without trouble.
“Ngh!”
“Ugh!”
After less than 30 seconds of clashing swords, the brothers—who were supposed to be on the offensive—let out groans of exertion. The elder brother pressed his left hand against his face guard and withdrew, followed closely by the younger brother, who also put some distance between himself and Ryoma.
“Brother.”
“I only grazed the metal fittings.”
Because the right fitting broke, the elder brother forcibly ripped off the tilted face guard.
With the sound of the other metal fitting cracking, the face of the man with scales on his cheek was revealed.
“So those scales mean you’re a Dragonewt.”
“Unlike your acquaintances, I’m not from the village. More importantly, that sword—is it really made of slime?”