Advancing Martial Arts

"Woman, state your name."

Leon studied the woman who had charged into his camp alone. His eyes brimmed with admiration for her superb martial skills—and eager anticipation.

She wore a tight-fitting, deep-purple outfit that clung to her curvaceous figure, making her look both voluptuous and beautiful, both lean and capable.

Her reddish-purple hair flowed down like a waterfall. A black veil covered the lower half of her face, leaving only her cool, piercing crimson eyes visible.

She held two red spears. Their heads and shafts seemed forged as one, their sharp tips glinting coldly. Surging Magecraft burst from them without restraint, carrying a natural killing intent. Who knew how many heroes had fallen to those spears?

"The mistress of a foreign realm from the Land of Shadows, Scathach, is my name. Are you the Lion King of Britain?"

Scathach recovered from her surprise at first seeing Leon. She hadn't expected anyone to truly be as tall as the rumors claimed, like a young giant.

Her voice was cold and mysterious, as though she were a queen standing high above the world—aloof and proud, accustomed to looking down on others, her aura fierce and murderous, with a faint hint of killing intent.

That killing intent was pure and piercing. It made Leon's skin tighten, as if countless fine needles were pricking his flesh, each sting slight but sharp.

The long spears, their tips shimmering with scarlet Magecraft, stirred an involuntary pang of dread in Leon, as though they would pierce his heart the very next moment.

"Not bad."

The danger and killing intent radiating from Scathach were alluring, intoxicating—an irresistible temptation.

The thirty thousand soldiers in Ireland had surrendered too quickly. Though Leon had conquered them in a single battle and relished the slaughter, it hadn't been enough to sate him. Now, Scathach was like a spring in the desert, refreshing his heart and moistening his parched insides.

"None of you are to interfere. Anyone who disobeys will be executed." This was a grand feast, and he intended to savor every moment.

At his words, his guards immediately obeyed and cleared a wide space, surrounding Leon and the intruder in a great circle so their king could enjoy himself to the fullest.

Scathach's brazen intrusion had drawn more than Leon's attention. Merlin had arrived at the camp entrance early, too.

In fact, Merlin had spotted her from the very beginning and warned the soldiers that someone had infiltrated the camp.

He had simply been watching the whole time.

Once Lancelot withdrew and it became clear Leon intended to fight personally, Merlin immediately waved his wooden staff and steadily chanted an obscure incantation. A floral fragrance filled the air, and countless petals appeared, enclosing the open space in a transparent, circular barrier.

He put on a worried, questioning expression and looked toward Lancelot. Seeing Lancelot nod calmly, he said, "There's no need to worry. His Majesty's martial skills far surpass mine. He'll have no trouble dealing with the enemy."

Merlin wasn't sure whether Lancelot was simply flattering the king, but he still let out a long breath of relief.

On the battlefield, Leon gripped the Holy Sword of the Stars, killing intent surging in his gaze. He shattered layer after layer of the sound barrier as he charged at Scathach.

Faced with the incoming attack, Scathach froze for an instant before snapping back to her senses. Leon's strike was already before her; the next moment, it would cleave her in two.

She recognized the tremendous force behind the blow and leaned back to evade it. At the same time, Magecraft surged through the spear in her hand. Its tip glowed a blood-red crimson as she thrust it toward Leon's heart.

Leon had planned to take the hit and use the opening to cut her down, but a chill interrupted him. His scalp prickled, and he barely dodged the thrust.

After their brief exchange, each had gained a rough sense of the other's strength.

"Lion King, you really are special. I can't see you at all."

A look of astonishment appeared in Scathach's eyes. She had instinctively used the abyssal wisdom of her Magecraft, yet she could see neither Leon's past nor his future.

It wasn't that she couldn't see clearly. She couldn't see him at all—not even his presence in the world.

If they hadn't just exchanged blows face-to-face, she would have wondered whether he even existed in the world. Nor could she detect any trace of Magecraft concealing him.

The other man's enormous build and incredible strength came from neither a divine blessing nor a Fairy's blessing or curse. Scathach couldn't even sense Magecraft flowing through his body. He was nothing but flesh and blood.

"I'm interested in you—"

Before Scathach could finish, a gale tore through the air. The cold gleam of Leon's blade came crashing down toward her head.

Clang!

Scathach laid her spear against the sword and used its force to lift herself into the air. Her slender, graceful body twisted like a butterfly. She stepped down and landed squarely on the tip of Leon's sword.

"Taking advantage of someone while they're talking? What a sneak attack."

A hulking brute not even twenty years old had come to trick and ambush her, a young girl of eighteen and an unspecified number of months. It was like Li Shimin at Xuanwu Gate—utterly without honor.

Fortunately, she was experienced and peerless in martial arts, so she could respond with ease.

As she spoke, Scathach flung the spear in her hand at Leon's eye socket.

Leon turned his wrist and angled his blade upward, intending to split the old woman in half from between her legs to her head while also knocking aside the Magecraft spear.

Clang!

Scathach's other spear touched the sword's edge. She used the force to vault more than ten meters away, landed steadily, then reached out and caught the spear Leon had knocked aside.

"What a despicable beast."

At her words, Leon gave her a subtle look that seemed to ask, Are you out of your mind?

Combat wasn't a performance. It was a fight to the death, where the strong preyed on the weak—where one either ate or was eaten. What did "despicable" even mean?

That was a lesson he had learned the very first time he hunted after coming to this world.

After those two brief exchanges, Leon felt the blood in his body boiling completely, as if an endless well of strength demanded release.

Without another word, he charged forward again, and they fell into close combat.

One fought with overwhelming strength and unstoppable ferocity; the other was nimble and versatile, with years of experience. For a time, they traded blows evenly, neither gaining the upper hand.

Outside the barrier, Merlin watched the two fighters, his brows drawing together slightly.

Was the Lion King really this skilled with a sword?

Merlin considered himself fairly knowledgeable about swordsmanship. He had accompanied Leon on the campaign against Vortigern and had seen him fight then. At the time, Leon's martial skills had been merely average: he had been brave enough in battle, but lacked finesse in a duel, relying entirely on brute strength to hold his own.

Only half a year had passed, yet the Lion King's martial skills had improved at a startling pace. His techniques were so refined he seemed like a different person. He could even hold his own against the Queen of the Land of Shadows using martial skill alone.

And there was something vaguely familiar about the way his moves flowed into one another.

Merlin looked at Lancelot beside him. The familiar quality in the Lion King's moves came from him.

"Sir Lancelot, His Majesty's martial skills have improved tremendously."

"That's right. His Majesty is naturally gifted and learns everything at once."

Lancelot nodded, inwardly amazed at Leon's progress as well.

Over the past six months, Leon had often summoned him to banquets and bestowed rewards on him. In his spare time, Lancelot had also taught Leon a few moves. He hadn't expected Leon to surpass the skills he had spent years honing in only half a year.

And Leon had spent his days buried in paperwork, practicing only when he had free time... If he trained diligently every day without fail, who knew what heights his martial skill might reach?

So you really were telling the truth just now, Merlin thought wryly.

Perhaps the highest level of martial skill the Lion King had encountered before was that of Luther, the Old Knight, which was why he had been somewhat better than Luther.

After meeting Lancelot, he had learned more refined martial arts and so surpassed him.

With talent that terrifying, a giant's physique, and divine strength, who in all the world, past or present, could stand against him?

Scathach, who was fighting Leon, felt the same way.

She had thought he was an unpolished piece of jade. Who could have guessed the jade would come alive on its own, take up a hammer and chisel, and start carving itself?

And it was carving itself pretty well!