Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 35



Chapter 35: The Blossoming Ceremony (5)

Theo was the first to swing his greatsword directly at Haid, who was standing in front of him.

Clang!

A tremendous impact traveled down the blade.

Haid’s eyes widened in shock.

“Urgh…!”

A groan escaped his tightly clenched lips before he could stop it.

It felt as if his arm might tear off.

‘How is he this fast…! And with this much strength…! Damn it! This wasn’t supposed to happen!’

Haid cursed under his breath as he recalled the words of the elder council head, who had reassured him that Theo was nothing to worry about.

‘Damn that old fool!’

But the battle had already begun.

Although he had realized Theo wasn’t as easy an opponent as he had anticipated, there was no way he could lose to some lowly bastard.

He tried desperately to push Theo back.

Grind!

Yet Theo didn’t budge an inch.

In fact, Haid was being overpowered in terms of strength.

Drake’s blade was inching closer and closer.

At this rate, it looked like Theo would shatter Haid’s sword and crush his skull.

Moreover…

Buzz, buzz!

The aura surrounding Theo was terrifyingly fierce.

Just locking eyes with him made Haid’s spine tingle, and his skin prickled.

Cold eyes.

An intense killing intent.

An overwhelming force.

Haid recalled a time when he visited the White Armored Dragon Cavalry with his father.

The wyverns he had seen back then had given off the same vibe—cold, ferocious, and brutal.

The kind of presence only a predator at the very top of the food chain could exude.

‘And this is coming from a bastard like him?’

Haid’s face twisted in fury.

“Enough nonsense!”

Drawing out all the magic power he could muster, Haid shoved Theo away.

At that moment, Khao and Lune charged in from both sides.

“You damned leech!”

“Die!”

Rather than recklessly charging at Haid again, Theo stomped the ground hard, stabilizing his balance with composure.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

Even now, his heart was pounding violently.

His heightened senses, sharpened by the adrenaline coursing through his veins, caught the movements of the two attackers.

Theo twisted his body sharply to the side.

Whoosh-

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Drake’s blade traced a long arc, effortlessly deflecting both of their attacks in a single motion.

“Urgh…!”

“This bastard… Is all he does lift weights like an ox…?!”

Caught off guard by the unexpected strength, Khao and Lune stumbled backward, staggering from the shock.

And.

That very moment was the opportunity Theo had been waiting for.

With an illusion of Drake’s blade being wrapped in a halo of light—

Flash!

From top to bottom, at a diagonal angle, Dragon’s Claw slashed down.

The target was Lune, who still hadn’t regained his balance.

“…!”

In that moment, Lune’s face turned deathly pale.

He reflexively raised his sword in desperation, but—

Clang!

Drake’s blade, empowered by Dragon’s Claw, effortlessly sliced his sword in half and plunged deep into Lune’s neck.

Slash!

From his left neck to his right waist, a crimson line split open, and blood spurted into the air like a fountain.

– Wound aggravated.

The damage Lune had taken seemed far more severe than it appeared. Even to the naked eye, his wound was spreading and rotting at an alarming rate.

“Gurgle!”

Lune fell backward, spewing frothy blood.

“Luuuuune! You bastard!”

“Idiot! Don’t charge in!”

Khao screamed in rage and lunged at Theo. Haid, his face pale with dread, tried to stop him, but Khao, his eyes already bloodshot with fury, wasn’t listening.

Thud… Thud…

At that moment, Theo’s heartbeat slowed.

The tension that had kept him on edge eased, granting him the clarity to quickly assess the situation around him.

Taking a single step back, Theo swung Drake’s blade upward this time, from below.

Clang!

Khao’s sword, aiming for Theo’s blind spot, was deflected high into the air.

“Do you think I’ll fall for the same trick twice?!”

However, Khao had already realized the extent of Theo’s strength, and had no intention of engaging him head-on.

He diverted Theo’s attack to the side, twisting his sword in an eerie, snake-like motion.

A bizarre and unpredictable swordsmanship.

“Die already!”

Khao was convinced that this time he could bring Theo down.

Typically, swordsmanship involving a zweihander relied heavily on brute force and weight, aiming for a single, decisive strike.

In other words, if the attack missed, it left massive openings.

On the other hand, Khao’s swordsmanship, Jester’s Play, was notorious for its unpredictable and constantly shifting moves.

Even among Ragnar’s techniques, it was one of the most unique.

There was no way someone like Theo, who had only started wielding a sword six months ago, could read Khao’s movements.

‘This bastard’s attacks during the Blossoming Ceremony were all just brute force. He must have relied on strength alone to try and make up for the gap between himself and the other candidates…! Ha! You think everything will go your way?!’

Khao had calculated his strategy, believing he had Theo cornered.

But then—

Flash!

Contrary to Khao’s expectations, Drake’s blade didn’t embed itself into the ground. Instead, it bent at a bizarre angle, sweeping toward Khao’s side.

Whoosh!

The strike was so fierce that the air itself seemed to split with a menacing sound.

It was an angle that defied all logic. Movements that seemed to ignore the very laws of inertia.

‘He… forced it to bend with sheer strength?’

Khao finally realized how Theo had pulled off such a move and hurriedly yanked his sword outward.

Clang!

His sword shook so violently it felt like it might break apart. Khao gritted his teeth against the excruciating pain in his wrist, barely managing to regain his balance.

‘Damn it… I need to find another opening…!’

Just as Khao’s eyes fixed on Theo’s stance, trying to read his next move, his pupils dilated in shock.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Drake’s blade was tracing dozens of arcs in the air, hurtling toward Khao at incredible speed.

A sword this large—a Zweihander—shouldn’t be able to move this fast. The speed of those slashes was unimaginable.

Khao had no choice but to bring out his own finest techniques to counter the onslaught.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Jester’s Play – The Jester’s Mockery.

Their swords collided in rapid succession.

A normal broadsword against the immense size and weight of the Zweihander.

If both swords struck at the same speed, there was no question—the smaller, lighter sword would be at a severe disadvantage.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Khao’s head throbbed as if he were being pummeled by a hammer repeatedly. The sheer force behind each impact was shaking him to his core.

He couldn’t comprehend it. How could Theo move such a massive sword at this speed?

How was it possible?

‘Is he achieving this speed purely with brute strength…?’

Only then did Khao grasp just how far beyond their expectations Theo’s strength was.

An inhuman strength.

Strength that defied logic.

It was the only way to describe it.

Khao had always believed that he and the others, blessed with the bodies of Ragnar, possessed unmatched strength. But now, it seemed clear that they were on an entirely different level from Theo.

What’s more—Theo’s sword speed was only getting faster as the fight progressed.

Flash! Flash!

It was as if lightning was streaking across the sky.

In the face of that power, Khao felt utterly insignificant.

Like a paper doll being tossed about in a storm.

‘Has he… figured out how to continuously unleash Dragon’s Claw…?’

Then, with his final realization, a streak of light slashed across Khao’s right eye.

It hurt.

It burned.

Those were Khao’s last thoughts in this world.

Smash!

Drake’s blade crushed Khao’s head like a watermelon.

Blood and brain matter spilled out, staining the once pristine white snow.

Whoosh, whoosh…

Surrounded by the rising steam from the intense friction caused by Drake’s blade, Theo turned toward the last remaining opponent—Haid.

Haid’s face had hardened, frozen with dread.

Unlike Theo, whose expression remained cold and composed.

“Do you know what your mistake was?”

“…”

“It was not bringing an examiner with you.”

The corner of Theo’s mouth curled into a smirk.

“You should’ve considered the possibility that you might die.”

“…!”

Haid clenched his teeth.

‘How is it possible for a bastard who was a cripple to be so indifferent to killing?’

The people Haid had seen before typically reacted negatively to their “first kill.”

Because of that, he and his group had been able to hunt down those “lowly ones,” even stronger than him, time and time again.

But Theo wasn’t like that.

He was far too calm.

As if this was completely normal.

As if he were just like them.

‘Could it be that this isn’t his first kill?’

The thought crossed his mind. Otherwise, none of this made sense.

“…When did the Mistress of Plum Blossom Palace teach you swordsmanship? Or, more precisely, when did you start getting involved with her?”

Haid had already noticed that the swordsmanship Theo displayed combined the technique of Dragon’s Claw, which was personally named by their family head, with elements of the Mistress of Plum Blossom Palace’s style.

‘Looks like he’s misunderstanding something.’

Theo let out a small, mocking laugh.

* * *

Over the past three days, Theo had deconstructed and reassembled the techniques of Full Blooming Plum Blossom, the swordsmanship passed down by the Mistress of Plum Blossom Palace, in an effort to master it.

The foundational knowledge and understanding of the ten secret sword techniques he had learned from Evelyn were invaluable.

Thanks to that—

He had begun to grasp the core elements of Full Blooming Plum Blossom.

Speed and arcs.

The secret lay in rapid strikes and the use of circular arcs.

‘It’s not just about swinging the sword in a straight line quickly. If I can incorporate curves and arcs into my strikes, the technique can show endless variations and applications.’

– Like drawing countless blooming plum blossoms in the empty air.

Of course, it wasn’t possible to fully internalize these insights in just three days.

Moreover, Theo didn’t want to discard the sharpness of Dragon’s Claw.

That’s why he focused on incorporating the arcs into Dragon’s Claw, practicing tirelessly.

Finally, in this battle, he had managed to perfect the technique to a certain degree.

He could now execute Dragon’s Claw consecutively—up to three times.

– The Three Fangs of the Dragon.

That’s the name Theo gave the technique.

If he could execute it four times, he’d call it Four Fangs. If he could do it five times, then Five Fangs.

‘I’m still far from drawing 120 arcs and circles like in Full Blooming Plum Blossom,’ he thought.

But when that day came, there would be no need to call it a “fang” anymore.

– The Dragon’s Mauling.

Perhaps that’s what he would call it then.

“…Right! There’s no way a crippled bastard who’s only been wielding a sword for half a year could beat us like this. Tell me the truth! When did you really start learning from the MIstress of Plum Blossom Palace? Was your meeting with her before the Blossoming Ceremony all just an act?”

Haid’s speculation was now snowballing out of control.

His eyes gleamed with madness.

“Yes, now I see. You must have been pretending to be a cripple while secretly training as a weapon forged by the MIstress of Plum Blossom and the captain of the White Armored Dragon Cavalry, to target the Elder Council! Yes, that’s it. Nothing else makes sense!”

How far could his conspiracy theories go?

By this point, Theo was almost curious to hear more.

“Filthy scum…! The so-called representatives of Ragnar, giving some lowborn blood absurd strength like this.”

Grind!

Haid ground his teeth so hard it seemed they might crack.

“The Cripple of the Rose Palace. You’re a real cripple, aren’t you? You can’t even realize you’ve been raised as a hunting dog. Then again, it suits you perfectly, given your lowly origins!”

Theo simply stared at Haid in silence.

Haid’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Did I hit the mark? Then—!”

“Is your speech over now?”

“What?”

Suddenly, Haid’s face twisted in confusion.

“Then it’s time for you to die.”

“…!”

Haid tried to slash his sword at Theo.

‘He’s gone!’

Theo had vanished without a trace.

The swirling snow blurred Haid’s vision.

Where did he go?

‘…Below!’

In a panic, Haid quickly lowered his gaze.

But unlike what he thought, Theo hadn’t disappeared. He wasn’t far away.

Theo had moved so quickly that Haid’s eyes couldn’t keep up, unable to register his motion.

Realizing that even this impossible speed was purely the result of strength, as Theo had launched himself from the ground, Haid’s spine tingled once more.

Fear.

For the first time, the overwhelming emotion of terror, the kind one only feels when faced with something incomprehensible, gripped Haid’s mind.

At that moment, Drake’s blade traced a brilliant arc of light.

The Three Fangs of the Dragon – Rupture.

Swish, swish, swish!

In an instant, the dragon struck three times with its claws.

The first fang shattered Haid’s sword.

The second fang sliced diagonally through his lower body.

The third fang soared upward, severing his head from his neck.

Slice-

Thud!

Haid’s head flew through the air.

Simultaneously, what remained of his upper body and lower body was obliterated, scattering in every direction like an explosion had gone off.

It was a horrifying sight, as if a bomb had detonated.

Rupture.

There couldn’t have been a more fitting word for what had just occurred.


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