The Extra Wants To Live

The farther away from the black hand, the weaker it is, and the closer it is to the hand, the stronger it is.

So in this case, Catherine, who blocked it so well, must get a chance.

However, Catherine had no choice but to be pushed away helplessly by Jaren's sword that was coming straight in with the power of the Master. Fencing is the art of making full use of the structural strength that comes from the correct posture.

However, the power of the Master can shatter the very foundation of swordsmanship.

Crack!

Even though Jaren's sword was caught between Catherine's blade and her crossguard, he twisted it with incredible force to open a gap.

Jaren's sword eventually regained its freedom without incident.

The hilt of the sword was pressed down with a sharp blade.

Catherine couldn't even raise her sword and was aiming it at the defenseless Catherine who had entered the gap between Jaren's swords.

The match was decided in one go. It seemed so.

Swoosh!

"… … ."

"… … ."

Jaren jumped to the side as if startled, even though he had a decisive victory.

He stared at Catherine's swordplay with wide eyes.

Before he knew it, Catherine's sword strike was hitting the spot where Jaren's knee had been.

Despite the overwhelming difference in reach, if Jaren had attacked Catherine directly, their swords would have touched each other at the same time.

Catherine held the pommel at the end of the sword hilt tightly, using her right index and middle fingers to resemble eagle claws.

She twisted her body and pushed forward, prepared to be hit. With the length of the sword handle, the length of her fingers, and the strength of her extended body, she managed to catch up with the overwhelmingly disadvantaged Reach.

Even while being crushed by the Master's power, Catherine penetrated that tiny gap with precision and delicacy. It meant that she knew exactly how Jaren would move, and she also had complete control over her own body!

"… … ."

Jaren's face turned bright red, then pale, his teeth clenched and his jaw bulged.

Although Jaren's main weapon was a long weapon such as a spear or halberd, that didn't mean he couldn't use a sword.

Jaren's talent was real, and he was confident he could kill a mana user even with a dagger in his hand.

But now, Jaren was clearly outsmarted by Catherine in swordsmanship. It was only thanks to the Master's physical abilities that he survived the bite.

Above all, he couldn't stand the fact that he was terrified by Catherine's swordsmanship and retreated in front of everyone.

"Dare…."

Jaren muttered something under his breath so no one could hear and rushed towards Catherine, who was also holding her sword high above her head.

This time, Catherine also ran towards him.

Really, she was coming into this thinking she was going to win. No, she whispered to herself that this was a real life-threatening battle, and she fought with the intention of killing Jaren.

In real combat, there are often moments when you have to risk your life to kill your opponent.

Catherine knew it; she had been there.

A quick and easy decision. She left her life to fate and aimed to kill without fail.

The moment she encountered the fierce and transparent spirit that was not something that could be seen in a mere match, Jaren was able to suddenly realize what the discomfort he had been feeling was.

Chae Jae-jaeng!

There were three collisions in a single moment, and Catherine's swordsmanship, which could have created countless changes, was broken before it could even spread its wings, pushed aside by the Master's fierce power.

You can't even call it a match. It's like rolling a rock down a hill and crushing an opponent who is standing alone with a sword in their hand.

Jaren, who held down Catherine's sword, aimed his sword at her neck. discover-stories-on-MVLeMpYr

In the silence, his distorted face seemed to scream silently.

He felt embarrassed.

He felt so ashamed and unbearable that he wanted to throw everything away and run away right then. He wondered if he had ever felt so miserable in his life.

"I lost."

As if driving the final wedge into his own battered heart, Catherine still calmly admitted defeat with her eyes still clear.

That should have been Jaren's original words. He was completely overwhelmed by Catherine in martial arts, and under the same conditions, he would have been defeated without even being able to properly launch his first move.

He couldn't even make the excuse that the sword wasn't his main weapon. If he were to say something like that, he'd bite his own tongue off and he wouldn't be able to bear it. It was a complete defeat.

"… … Master Jaren, the match has been decided. Please put down your sword."

As Jaren did not move or put his knife away from Catherine's neck, the officer in charge of the trial spoke quietly.

Jaren felt as if flames were bursting out from within, burning his entire body. Is shame something that hurts so hotly?

"…Damn it…Fucking…."

Jaren shuddered and muttered, dropping his sword as he lowered his head. Crunch! The bladeless sword slid down Catherine's shoulder and crashed noisily to the floor.

"I, I lost. I lost… … ."

Jaren spoke with difficulty, as if he was holding back nausea. He looked around the surroundings, where the silence was colder than the winter wind, with a face like a lost child, and this time he spoke clearly so that everyone could hear.

"I lost. It was a defeat without any excuses."

Then he muttered under his breath as if he doubted what he had said, and looked around anxiously with frightened eyes until he met a pair of eyes that were quietly piercing through him.

"… … ."

"… … ."

The moment he came face to face with a pair of deeply swaying recordings, Jaren could no longer bear it and turned around and left the place.

The sight of Carl following him as he ran away was too painful.

The moment he met Carl's eyes, Jaren realized that the young prince already knew him.

He could feel, painfully, that Carl had looked into his arrogant and mean intentions as if he were looking into his pocket, laughed at them, and instead of taking them in his hands, threw them into the pigsty as feed.

He felt like he had been thrown out naked.

He couldn't stand it. It was so pathetic and ugly that he felt like crying. Since when did it start to be like this?

"… … ."

Looking at Jaren's back as he ran away, Carl couldn't bring himself to say anything.

The Jaren he knew would have to show off after shoving Catherine down hard.

Carl wanted Jaren to be so stupid and arrogant that he would turn everyone away, and so he would make Catherine's nobility and outstanding dancing stand out even more.

But for some reason, Jaren declared defeat and ran away despite his victory, shame and fear in his eyes.

The victory in the swordsmanship duel ultimately went to Catherine.

She was the first to declare defeat and offer her head to Jaren's sword, but Jaren declared defeat and left.

Catherine's victory was something everyone was rooting for, but Jaren's shocking appearance only threw the atmosphere into disarray.

"Lady Catherine, you have won, so you should give me the glory."

"Ah, that…Yes… … ."

The mood lightened a little when Catherine awkwardly unwrapped her handkerchief, waved it around, and handed it back to Carl, but that was it.

Carl remembered the moment when Jaren looked at him in horror.

'Jaren, what change of heart has occurred?'

Plans have changed.

He thought it might be worth contacting Jaren.