I Pulled Out the Excalibur

Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Prelude to the Civil War (4)
Early in the morning, Najin headed towards Ivan’s office.

Summoned by Ivan at dawn, Najin found the office empty. Inquiring the guards outside, he learned that Ivan hadn’t left. Hesitant at first, Najin returned to the office and kicked a bookshelf in the corner.

Dr-r-r-r-uck…

The bookshelf slid aside, revealing a passage leading to the building’s basement. Predictably, the usually locked basement door was open today.

‘It seems like an invitation.’

Najin scratched the back of his neck, knowing what lay below. Descending the stairs, he entered a vast open area used by Ivan for honing his sword aura. It was also the training ground where Ivan had taught Najin.

Silently, Najin touched his scarred shoulder, a reminder of Ivan’s harsh lessons. He surmised there could only be one reason for being called here.

With a long sigh, Najin continued down the stairs. As expected, Ivan awaited him.

“You’re here.”

“What’s this about, summoning me to the basement?”

“There’s only one reason I’d call you here.”

Ivan tossed something that clanged at Najin’s feet—a sharp steel sword. Unlike his usual wooden sword, Ivan held a similar steel one, indicating a serious spar.

Najin swallowed nervously.

‘When was the last time I sparred with Ivan?’

It had been years since their last ‘training,’ which was more akin to a beating. Najin stepped into the training ground, Ivan’s sinister voice echoing.

“Focus.”

Ivan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The moment he exhaled, Najin’s instincts screamed danger. He reflexively grabbed the fallen sword and retreated. The air in the basement grew dense, almost suffocating.

Shrriing.

Ivan slowly extended his sword towards Najin. Facing the cold blade, Najin realized this was a fight for survival. A new scar like the one on his shoulder awaited him if he didn’t face Ivan with the intent to kill.
Najin was apprehensive about sparring with Ivan. He wanted to make excuses to escape the basement. It was a learned fear, a scar etched into his body.

Ivan had taught Najin to fight and survive in the city, often through brutal sparring sessions. These sessions included bone-breaking, consciousness-losing beatings, and forced awakenings. Ivan imprinted survival skills into Najin through such harsh methods.

‘Helpful, but…’

Najin realized Ivan’s teachings were not just about guidance. They were also threats and warnings.

“Don’t overestimate your talents. I am above you. Don’t cross the line I’ve set. I can crush you anytime.” That was the warning.

After Najin stopped showing interest in the Upper World, Ivan stopped these sessions. But now, why the sudden call?

Najin had not overstepped his bounds recently. His only deviation was observing the Excalibur at the plaza, which Ivan had allowed.

‘But why now?’

While he couldn’t fathom the reason, Najin knew what he had to do now.

Thump.

He tensed his senses, ready to react to Ivan’s moves. As Ivan motioned his sword, Najin braced himself.

“Aren’t you coming?”

In response, Najin positioned his sword diagonally. Ivan moved forward, and at a three-step distance…

Whoosh.

Ivan’s step turned heavy. His sword accelerated with a swift motion.

Clang!

As their swords clashed, Najin gritted his teeth, feeling an enormous weight press down on him. He managed to hold his ground, unlike his younger days. He twisted his sword, channeling the force sideways—a basic skill, but against Ivan, it was futile.

Spin.

Ivan’s sword followed a bizarre trajectory, wrapping around Najin’s. Despite seeing it, Najin couldn’t comprehend it in time. He ducked, narrowly avoiding Ivan’s sword.

Crack.

“Argh!”

A kick to Najin’s abdomen sent him tumbling. He immediately got up and faced Ivan’s relentless assault. Each blow was a strain on his shoulder and grip.

‘Breathless…’

Struggling for breath, Najin fended off Ivan’s attacks. Ivan’s swordsmanship was beyond Najin’s pace.

‘Mana… that damn mana.’

Najin envied those who wielded mana, for Ivan never taught it to him. He could only mimic Ivan, moving faster than usual, feeling an unseen force propelling him. For the first time, he pushed Ivan’s sword back.

In that moment, Ivan’s eyes narrowed. Stepping back, he tensed like a drawn bowstring and launched a powerful strike, overwhelming Najin.

“Ugh!”

As Najin blocked the attack, he was flung into the air and slid backwards. He quickly regained his composure, but contrary to his expectations, Ivan didn’t immediately charge at him. Instead, Ivan stood still, raising his sword, preparing something other than an attack. Ivan, with his one eye, covered his empty eye socket with the raised sword blade, resembling the Sword Salute performed by knights in heroic tales.

Then, Najin saw it.

Hiss…

From Ivan’s raised blade emerged a calm, cyan aura, the Sword Aura, signifying his status as a Sword Master. Wrapped in this aura, Ivan’s sword was no longer a mere common steel sword. It became a unique weapon that only the one-eyed Ivan could wield.

Enthralled momentarily by the beauty of the Sword Aura, Najin quickly realized this was not the time to admire it and urgently spoke out.

“Wait, Ivan. Hold on.”

Najin retreated in panic.

“Drawing Sword Aura is overkill, isn’t it? Isn’t this too much?”

It was unusual. Ivan had never drawn Sword Aura in their past sparring sessions. It was obvious – Najin couldn’t handle Sword Aura. Only Sword Aura can counter Sword Aura. A regular steel sword would be shredded upon contact, along with the wielder.

Panicking, Najin stepped back, but Ivan silently advanced towards him. Step by step…

Then, with a leap, Ivan lunged at Najin. The cyan Sword Aura encased steel sword streaked towards Najin.

“Ugh!”

Najin hastily raised his sword in defense, but a regular steel sword couldn’t withstand Sword Aura. As Ivan’s Sword Aura-imbued blade met Najin’s, Najin clearly saw his own sword being sliced away. Unable to withstand the Sword Aura, the blade crumpled. Ivan’s sword, cutting through the steel, advanced relentlessly. To Najin, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Najin realized he was facing death. In a moment of heightened awareness, an unknown force surged through him, propelling his body. And this force wasn’t just propelling his body anymore.

Flash.

Najin’s half-severed sword flickered with light. Though ephemeral and barely a fraction of Ivan’s mighty Sword Aura, it was undeniably a strand of Sword Aura.

A light that a boy in such a city should not possess.

Confronted with the radiance in Najin’s sword, Ivan’s eyes widened, and his mouth twitched in surprise.

Then the Sword Auras collided.

Clang!

The clash echoed loudly as Najin’s sword pushed back Ivan’s. But before completely repelling it, with a clink, Najin’s sword broke. Not just Najin’s, Ivan’s sword too shattered.

Both swords, not designed to withstand Sword Aura, had met their end upon drawing and receiving it.

Clang.

The broken blades fell to the ground. Najin collapsed, panting heavily.

“Whoo, huff, huff…!”

His heart raced, feeling as if it was being squeezed. Blood trickled from his nose onto the ground. Overwhelmed by headache and fatigue, Najin raised his head to see Ivan looking down at him.

Silently, Ivan observed Najin, then looked at the broken sword in his hand. The aftermath of the clash of Sword Auras. He let out a hollow laugh.

“Always a madman.”

Ivan had seen the light. Confronted with the brilliance that Najin possessed, Ivan stroked his face, realizing what it meant.

‘This is maddening.’

It was a light that someone like him, buried in a place like this, should never possess.