#Episode 61
“So, what exactly do you want from me? Doesn’t Van Drake have their own style of swordsmanship? There’s no point in observing my unrefined techniques.”
“That’s not for you to decide; it’s my call. I need to assess your skill level first, so go ahead and swing your sword. Or do you prefer demonstrating it against an opponent?”
Todd goaded Oliver with his provocative words. Oliver clicked his tongue in mild irritation, then reluctantly raised his wooden sword.
Unlike his bulging arm muscles that seemed ready to burst, the rugged wooden sword he held remained calm and steady. There was no flashy technique or fierce spirit that could split the sky. His movements were precise, but they lacked the fluidity of swordsmanship and the grace of a dance.
The tip of the sword struck its intended target with pinpoint accuracy and then withdrew, resembling the precise touch of pressing a mechanical calculator’s button or the steady glide of a pen across parchment.
Todd observed Oliver’s movements without blinking even once.
After completing his demonstration of his entire sword technique, Oliver calmly sheathed his wooden sword at his waist without showing the slightest hint of exertion.
“That’s all. My swordsmanship isn’t much. It’s not flashy or anything… not the kind of technique that suits you, young master.”
“After showing such a deadly technique, what nonsense are you spouting…”
Todd shook his head in disbelief, though a thrill surged across his face. His tone grew excited as he started speaking rapidly.
“So, you’re skilled, that much is clear… Every strike targets a vital spot with such calm precision—your swordsmanship resembles that of an assassin. Not to mention, you haven’t been away from the field for long. You may have suppressed it, but I can still sense the killing intent within you… This is exactly what I need. I must admit, the Count’s choice in selecting you was spot-on.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow, visibly intrigued by Todd’s sharp observation.
It’s not easy to grasp the true nature of Oliver’s swordsmanship unless one is exceptionally skilled. Most would consider his style dull or overly polite.
Oliver had expected Todd to be merely a thirteen-year-old child, barely looking any older than ten, who perhaps only received basic family training.
Yet, Todd saw right through the core of his swordsmanship. At this level, Todd really had no need for further training.
With an expression now far more engaged than at the beginning, Oliver asked,
“Do you have a specific target in mind?”
“Humans,”
Todd responded with a twisted smile, throwing his arms wide as he nearly shouted,
“The guards, holy knights, anyone!”
On Todd’s young face lay a fierce look of vengeance and madness, a determination to set fire to humanity itself if that’s what it would take.
Todd continued, spitting out his words as if ridding himself of the lingering taste of hatred.
“I know how to fight vampires. But I don’t know how to kill humans in the most efficient way. Van Drake’s swordsmanship isn’t ideal for fighting humans.”
Vampires don’t die easily, even when struck in vital spots, and their ability to recover makes them particularly challenging.
Wounds inflicted by silver weapons are difficult for them to heal, but cunning high-ranking vampires often find ways to counter even silver, so it’s not a definitive solution.
Thus, Van Drake chose a sword style focused on severing the flow of magic with relentless precision.
Over a thousand years of refinement made Van Drake’s swordsmanship overwhelmingly effective against vampires.
However, when facing humans, the situation was different.
Humans are fragile. There’s no need to go to such extremes to kill them, and excessive force could expose vulnerabilities instead.
Todd’s vengeance was not aimed at vampires but at humans—those who had ruined Van Drake, tarnished his honor, and killed his family.
Todd’s golden eyes gleamed, bright as a blazing torch or the dawning light of morning.
“I want to adapt Van Drake’s sword style to fight humans, not vampires. For that, I need someone who knows how to kill humans well.”
“Then I am indeed the perfect choice.”
Despite Todd’s declaration of enmity against humanity, Oliver seemed unfazed. Instead, he even allowed himself a rare smile, albeit a sharp one tinged with a hint of menace.
Todd, too, smiled back as he raised his wooden sword. At his age, it would have been normal to struggle with its weight, yet Todd skillfully wielded it with one hand.
With a tilt of his sword tip, Todd taunted Oliver,
“I think I’ve made my intentions clear enough… there’s no point in more talk. Let’s settle the rest with our blades.”
“Perfect. I’m not much for verbal explanations myself.”
As soon as their words ended, their wooden swords clashed in mid-air with a piercing sound, marking the start of their duel.
Smack!
***
Todd and Oliver’s training had begun.
Watching Todd’s training from the window ledge of the second-floor library, Vasha clicked her tongue.
“I knew it… What kind of self-defense swordsmanship is that? It’s clearly an aggressive technique designed to kill.”
She had assumed he’d just learn how to swing a wooden sword, yet here he was, engaging in a deadly spar that was as real as it gets.
The conversation between Todd and Oliver before the match hadn’t been loud, but Vasha’s keen senses allowed her to hear everything.
Todd never needed a swordsmanship teacher; he just needed someone to teach him the best way to kill.
“So much for him trailing behind me as he grows up. Honestly, he doesn’t seem like he needs me around at all.”
Vasha muttered, though she couldn’t accuse Todd of lying or deceiving her.
Her worries about him being bullied for not taking swordsmanship lessons outside were, after all, only the product of her overactive imagination.
“Well, at least I don’t need to worry about him getting beaten up… More like, I should worry about him beating others up. Or maybe even killing them would be lucky if that’s where it ends.”
It looked as if the real danger was him holding back from killing his opponents. None of his peers—or even those older than him—seemed like they’d stand a chance.
Even against Oliver, Todd held his ground effortlessly, despite the significant difference in their physiques and strength.
In terms of swordsmanship skills, they were evenly matched, but Todd seemed to have an edge in instinct.
‘As expected of Van Drake… When he’s fully grown, there won’t be anyone who can face him.’
Like a wild beast born strong, not needing to hone its fangs and claws, Todd wielded the sword as naturally as a fish swims or a bird flies.
Every time his sword clashed with Oliver’s, Todd’s technique was refined, becoming increasingly adept at targeting human vital points.
For Vasha, the initial swordsmanship was scarier—skillfully dissecting the magic of vampires, it severed magical flows with precision.
Yet watching Todd’s sword adapt to face humans instead filled her with an unsettling dread.
‘Can it really be this easy for him?’
The reason why the vampire lord went into slumber is unknown, but seeing Todd, she felt like she might understand.
To witness someone evolve at every moment, relentlessly closing the gap, would have made the vampire lord feel as if a sword was pressed to his throat.
Now that Todd’s sword was aimed at humans instead, whether the vampire lord foresaw this situation or not, it was likely a relief for him to be out of the situation.
“Hopefully he doesn’t end up storming the royal palace or the sacred ground with his sword…”
Vasha sighed heavily, practically leaning against the window.
From the sofa in the middle of the room, Laurus chuckled and spoke up.
“You seem quite worried.”
“He’s still young.”
Vasha mumbled, her chin resting on her hand, unable to tear her gaze away from Todd.
