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Chapter 30 - The Greatest Talent in History (2)
'Look at this guy? His skill in handling Aura is...'
Unlike how Cal Krone had disregarded Lumian, Lumian held Cal Krone in very high esteem.
Testing an opponent's reaction by subtly threatening them with Aura was a common practice in the knight orders.
But he had not expected a mere knight cadet, not a full-fledged knight, to be able to use this technique.
'He certainly is a great talent.'
E n̄ûm̆ а́ . id́
Both Teoro and Boomer were outstanding, but they could not be compared to this guy.
He now understood clearly why everyone praised Cal Krone.
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Lumian quietly closed his eyes and felt Cal Krone's Aura.
It was not an easy task even for an Expert to grasp an opponent's disposition through their Aura, but for him, a master in his past life, it was not difficult.
'Confident, free-spirited... he's not a bad person, is he?'
He had a feeling of being overly confident, but that was not a flaw.
Е̇n̆ ü m a . i d̈
Rather, it was surprising to feel a slight sense of emptiness in a corner of his heart.
Why would a guy who has everything others envy feel emptiness?
'Does he have some circumstances?'
He couldn't know that far. Nor did he want to delve deep into another man's worries.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
But he had become a little interested in the skills of a promising junior.
Having made his decision, a stream of Aura flowed out from Lumian's body.
W̃ё ḃ ńо̂ v̄ е ĺ Én̂u mă.
Swoooosh-
During his days as a royal guard in his past life, there were many times Lumian had to hide his presence.
Handling Aura subtly was a very easy task for him.
A night without even a moon, a low-lying fog at dawn. As he recalled a few other images, Lumian's aura changed to resemble that of an assassin.
He slowly sent it towards Cal Krone. And as he scanned his entire body, he began to assess his skills.
'He's even more amazing?'
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Oh, Lumian let out an internal exclamation of admiration.
Was it because of the evaluation that he was a guy who lived for his own self-importance? Lumian had thought that Cal Krone was a guy who relied only on his talent and neglected effort.
But he was wrong. The amount of Aura condensed in his danjeon was something that could never be accumulated without blood-sweat training.
Even in his past life, it was hard to find someone at this level.
Except for the Knight King and himself, there would be no rivals.
'To think that there is such a talent in a small country like this.'
Ӗn ũm̂ а̇ . i̇ d
Having finished his assessment, Lumian stealthily withdrew his Aura. And he let out a low groan.
While he was pleased to see such an excellent junior, he also felt pathetic for trying to snatch the victory from a talented young man.
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But such feelings were momentary.
Lumian did not succumb to a trial of this degree. In an instant, he armed himself mentally and came up with an excellent excuse.
'It is the duty of a senior to show a junior, who was trapped in the small pond of Tarajan, a wider world.'
He was a child who could easily become a frog in a well.
Wе b̊ n̊о̂v̊.ёl̈ Е̌núm̄.a_
To show such a junior that there is a sky above the sky, so that he can strive even harder... what a load of bull. Lumian was just so envious of this guy.
While he had been forced to maintain his virginity for 60 years, this guy had been surrounded by beautiful ladies from a young age.
There was no need for consideration. Rather, it was only right for that guy to be considerate of him.
Thinking that way made him feel a little more at ease.
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'Don't be too sad after you lose.'
Just as he had taken care of Teoro and Boomer, he would show him a certain degree of sincerity.
Е n̄um̃а̊
Having shaken off the discomfort in his heart with such thoughts, Lumian glanced at Cal Krone.
Seeing Lumian, Cal Krone wore a puzzled expression.
'What kind of look is that?'
There was no way he could grasp the complex gaze of Lumian, which was a mixture of envy and apology, pride and shame.
He was just Cal Krone, who, with a queasy expression, turned his head forward again and watched Lumian's back.
***
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After a short while, the main stage of the Swordsmanship Festival began. Accordingly, the participants in the waiting room all came out and sat in the outdoor seats.
It didn't matter if they stayed in the waiting room and waited for their match order, but in that case, they couldn't watch the other participants' matches. That was why there wasn't a single cadet left in the waiting room.
KABOOM!
"Uryaaaaaap!"
"Match over! Second-year, Class F, Boomer Simpson, victory!"
SWOOOSH!
Е́n.u m̃ а. ĩ d
"...I lost."
"Match over! Second-year, Class E, Teoro Shutgaren, victory!"
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CLANG!
CLATTER-!
"Match over! Second-year, Class B, Bayreun Sigal, victory!"
The Swordsmanship Festival proceeded much as many people had expected.
W еḃn̈_о̀v̈е l̆ Enu̇ m á
All eight of the seeded top participants achieved overwhelming victories.
Among them, the skills of Boomer Simpson and Teoro Shutgaren, who defeated their opponents in a single blow, were particularly noticeable.
Many spectators who had come to watch the Swordsmanship Festival burst into admiration.
"This is beyond my expectations."
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"That young man named Boomer is as strong as an ox. To break his opponent's sword."
"Teoro Shutgaren... that cadet is also amazing. He climbed up his opponent's sword like flowing water and struck a vital point. That's an advanced technique that can't be learned through effort alone..."
Ѐ n̂ ům̄а̇ . і d̈
The professors wore pleased expressions at the outstanding skills of the participants, and the upperclassmen felt a thrilling tension at the sight of their powerful juniors. Other people also gave their own assessments after watching the participants' skills.
But what Lumian was paying attention to was very different from everyone else.
Right now, he was checking the cheers and reactions of the women directed at each participant.
And he realized a shocking fact.
'Shit... depending on their looks... the women's reactions are so different...'
Of course, the proportion of skill was not small. Most of those who showed a brilliant and overwhelming performance received good reactions from the women.
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But what was even more important was their looks.
The case of Boomer Simpson was the best example.
'That guy, he did receive a lot of attention...'
That was a matter of course. It was inevitable that cheers would pour out for Boomer, who had decorated the opening match with a one-sided victory, showing off his tremendous power.
But Lumian, who had been listening to the spectators' conversations, knew.
That over 90 percent of that cheering was from men's voices.
Ёn û m а̌ .і d̄
Rather.
"No!"
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"The first-year lost!"
"Oh no, look at him, he's on the verge of tears from frustration! It's so pitiful..."
"That ogre-like guy! How can he be so cold-hearted?"
"The first-year should have won!"
Еň ů m̌ å
A not-so-small number of female spectators gave Boomer the evil eye and sent sympathetic encouragement to the defeated first-year cadet.
It seemed that the fact that the first-year cadet's face was quite cute was a big reason.
'Teoro's match was the complete opposite.'
Teoro Shutgaren, like Boomer, had achieved an easy victory. The moment their swords clashed, he climbed up like a snake and stopped his sword at the tip of his opponent's nose.
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Naturally, cheers and applause followed.
But it was completely different from Boomer's case. This time, the voices of the women were even louder than the men's.
Е̌ n̄u ṁ а
"Kyaaaaak!"
"That man, who is he?"
"Teoro? Teoro Shutgaren? He's so cool..."
"He's handsome, his swordsmanship is outstanding, haa..."
"Look at that gaze, I think I'll be thinking about it at night..."
Of course, not all female spectators were like that.
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The knight cadets, or the ladies who had a discerning eye for swordsmanship, gave the same praise to all the victors and the same comfort to all the losers.
But their proportion was remarkably low. The vast majority of women were showing different reactions depending on the participant's appearance.
'Damn it! The difference in their reactions based on faces is too great!'
Of course, it wasn't that he didn't understand the ladies' feelings.
He would be the same. It was a man's instinct, and Lumian's instinct, to be more drawn to a beautiful swordswoman than an ugly one.
But he couldn't help but feel sad and empty.
Е n̈ um̌ а . i d
He despaired as he looked at Teoro, who was sitting with a composed expression.
'Damn it, this unfair bastard!'
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Blue hair, white skin. The cold yet chic charm that matched them made him so envious today.
Swordsmanship skills, and the appropriate concept and image that made them stand out.
He had thought that this would be enough to overcome his lacking looks, but he was mistaken.
Lumian became as gloomy as a third-rate swordsman who had faced a talent he could never reach.
Е̊ n̈u m̀a.id
No, it was even more serious than that.
In swordsmanship, one could overcome talent with effort, but with looks, that was impossible.
It was as absurd as a non-existent penis suddenly appearing.
Lumian's mood became incomparably dark.
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"What's wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen?"
Teoro spoke to him.
W̊ё bn̆ ŏ v̊ ё l Ĕn u m а̌
Since he couldn't leave before all the matches were over, he had returned to the waiting room after his match.
He was a little worried because Lumian's condition had become strange in the meantime.
However, the reply that came back was as cold as it could be.
"Die."
"..."
"All the handsome guys should just die."
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"...Did you eat something wrong?"
"I'm kidding. Just pretend you didn't hear it."
It was impossible to pretend he hadn't heard what he had already heard, but Teoro just let it go.
It was because Lumian's mood seemed too bad to argue with.
'He's a strange guy anyway.'
Teoro turned his head again.
W̆ èb́n̈ôv̆ ê l̆ E n̆um̌ а̃
And Boomer, who had been listening to their conversation, thought to himself.
'That's right. All the handsome guys should just die. I wish all the guys who are more handsome than me would just die.'
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Boomer was secretly harboring thoughts of the world's destruction.
As they were each lost in their own thoughts and not focusing on the match.
A participant who drew everyone's attention stepped onto the stage.
At that, all the participants' eyes lit up.
Е̌ nu m a
"Cal Krone!"
"It's Cal Krone."
"Is it finally starting?"
The sight of him capturing everyone's attention despite being in a mediocre spot in the middle of the schedule.
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It was a status befitting a favorite to win.
Teoro and Boomer, unlike before, also put strength in their eyes and watched the stage, and Lumian also observed Cal Krone's appearance with an interested expression.
Е̇ n ü ma
It wasn't to check his skills.
What part of the guy was it that focused people's attention? Furthermore, what was it that elicited the cheers of the women?
That was what he was curious about.
'Of course, he's a handsome and tall guy, but honestly, in my opinion, he's not as good-looking as Teoro...'
Of course, Cal Krone had swordsmanship skills superior to Teoro's. The numerous achievements he had accumulated since his admission must have had a considerable influence on his popularity.
But.
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"Kyaaaaaaaaaak!"
"Cal Krone! Look over here, Cal Krone!"
"Kyaaaaak! I just made eye contact!"
"No, you bitch! He looked at me!"
"What did you say? Are you crazy!"
"..."
Е̂n̂ ŭṁ а̂. ì d
'How can he be this popular?'
The difference was so extreme that it was incomprehensible.
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He couldn't even be compared to Teoro, who had received the best reaction among the participants. It seemed that even if the Knight King, Philip III, appeared in this place, he would not be able to get this kind of reaction.
'This is strange... I just don't understand the reason.'
The academy showed a flustered look at the cheers of the ladies, which were getting stronger instead of calming down.
Eventually, they temporarily delayed the match and began to broadcast an announcement of understanding with magic.
Ě n̆ ǔm̄ а. іd
To all the spectators who have come to see the Swordsmanship Festival of the Tarajan Knight Academy, thank you very much. We also thank you for welcoming the participants with your enthusiastic cheers and encouragement. However, as excessive cheering may disrupt the progress of the match, we would appreciate it if you would refrain from actions such as standing up or shouting loudly.
Only then did the heat gradually subside, and Lumian shook his head.
A mysterious situation that he couldn't comprehend at all. He couldn't even let out an exclamation of admiration. He turned his gaze towards Cal Krone with a weary face.
Despite this commotion, the guy maintained a calm appearance.
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No, rather, he even wore a faint smile as if he was enjoying the current attention.
Seeing that, Lumian shook his head once more.
Е̇ n.ům̄а̀_. і.d̀
'He really is a great attention seeker. How can he be like that...'
But at that moment.
A shocking event occurred that stopped Lumian's thoughts.
It was what happened after Cal Krone stylishly swung his sword in a circle.
"Kyaaaaaaaaaak!"
"Cal Krone!"
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"Cal Krone, Cal Krone!"
"Look this way and smile for us!"
Ordinary people would have focused only on Cal Krone striking a pose. In fact, the women in the audience showed a fawning reaction to Cal Krone's brilliant sword dance, and the men who were envious of it were frowning.
However, Lumian, who had sharp senses comparable to a Sword Master and a unique obsession with image making, could see much more.
A brilliant feeling as if a rose was blooming.
And a dazzling feeling as if a ray of light was descending from the sky.
Ẇ е̃ bń о̇v̊е̇l̈ E n ům̆ä_
Seeing Cal Krone creating such a mysterious yet charming atmosphere by his own will, Lumian wore a surprised expression.
'The ultimate... concept-play!'
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To receive people's attention, that talent of creating an intense atmosphere to the point of evoking a specific image!
Lumian, who was watching the stage, unknowingly gulped down his saliva. His two fists on his knees were clenched tightly. He felt as if he had met his lifelong rival.
He had no choice but to admit it.
Cal Krone undoubtedly possessed the greatest talent in history.
Е n̈u̇ m̀ a
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