Flame Cross

"A talented warrior needs three or four years to advance to Flame Warrior. Someone less gifted might need five to ten years. The church records mention a freak with peerless talent who became a Flame Warrior in less than a year. We can only dream about how fierce someone like that must be."

"After becoming a Flame Warrior, if your Breathing Technique advances again, you'll be able to temper your internal organs and bones. Eventually, you can advance to Flame Fighter."

"As for what comes after Flame Fighter, I have no idea." Marshall spread his hands and smiled as he shook his head.

The slender warrior pointed at the parchment in Kraun's hand. "It records the movements of the Breathing Technique. Practicing them won't do you much good until you've felt that Flow of Life. I still recommend warming up and trying to feel it during battle."

Hearing this, Kraun opened the parchment and found that, just as the other man had said, it was covered in little figures painted in bright red, each striking a different pose.

The little figures were doing all sorts of movements, giving the page a rather bizarre look.

He nodded. "Shall we keep practicing Swordsmanship, then?"

He was still thinking about his Basic Swordsmanship and Cross Sword, both of which were close to advancing. The chance to spar was too good to pass up.

"Of course. Though your opponent will be Savas. He insists he held back yesterday and didn't dare fight you with everything he had. Losing while restrained like that was too embarrassing for him."

"Works for me." Kraun smiled magnanimously. He didn't care who his opponent was, as long as they helped him improve.

These two warriors didn't charge him for sparring, so he could make full use of them without worry.

"Hey, Red Beard, come on over! I've made you an opportunity. The new warrior's willing to spar with you. This time, I bet he can last fifteen minutes. Two Spirit Coins. What do you say?"

Damn it! Kraun's face darkened. He felt like a fighting cock, being watched while people placed bets on him.

"I'm in!" Salma boomed. "He won't last fifteen minutes!"

"Careful, the wind might blow your tongue away," Marshall taunted. He turned to the other fighter. "Kraun, want to join in? Bet on yourself to win."

"Does he look like someone with Spirit Coins?" Red Beard said, shaking his head in protest. He tossed the slender warrior two coins that shimmered with a white-jade sheen.

"Gold Shields work, too. One Spirit Coin is worth about 110 Gold Shields. Want to bet? Have some confidence in yourself. Red Beard's only been a Crusader Order warrior for two years; he's not much more experienced than you."

"Then I'll join in for fun. I bet I can last fifteen minutes. One Spirit Coin."

"Great! Did you bring the money?"

"Can I owe you for now? Who goes out carrying a hundred Gold Shields?"

"That might work," Marshall said, tilting his head. "But if you bet on yourself, you can't just last fifteen minutes. You'll have to hold out for twenty to win."

He wasn't worried that the other man couldn't pay. A Transcendentalist could earn a hundred Gold Shields a month without much trouble, as long as he swallowed his pride.

"Let the match begin!" Marshall called in a strange singsong voice, and the two men launched into battle.

Kraun sprang forward to attack. After all his training, he'd realized that attacking was the best way to improve his Swordsmanship and raise his proficiency as much as possible.

Red Beard showed no trace of contempt. He responded calmly. Yesterday, he'd learned the hard way what happened when he couldn't break through his opponent's defenses. Today, he planned to play it safe, wear down the other man's stamina, and then finish him off in style.

The two traded blows, and the fight was lively.

Ten minutes passed, but Kraun showed no sign of tiring. His attacks were still fierce, his Swordsmanship fluid and smooth, and he kept pressing forward.

Savas grew anxious. He'd planned to play defense until his opponent tired, then strike back. Instead, he'd been on the back foot from the very start—truly overwhelmed.

Compared to yesterday, his opponent's strength and speed had both improved noticeably. Even his Swordsmanship seemed far better than before.

His enemy's sword came at him from every awkward angle, leaving him struggling to keep up.

He couldn't let this continue. If he didn't seize the initiative, he'd lose more than two Spirit Coins—he'd be humiliated.

That bigmouth Marshall would definitely spread the story of how he couldn't handle a newcomer.

At that thought, Red Beard clenched his teeth and swept his sword upward, catching his opponent's descending blade. A red flame glowed around his sword hand.

The flame spread to his weapon, bathing the area in red light like blood beneath the setting sun.

"Red Beard, that's not fair!" Marshall snapped. He hadn't expected the other man to use the Flame Cross Sword Technique.

This technique was designed to be used with the Flame Breath Breathing Technique. It stimulated the body and greatly increased a Crusader Order warrior's strength.

It consumed a tremendous amount of energy and couldn't be sustained for long. It was only meant for desperate fights or breaking through a tough defense.

Marshall had considered every possibility except that this guy would play dirty and use such a powerful move against a newcomer who'd only just advanced. He should have made the rules clear beforehand.

Marshall held back his anxiety, ready to step in and help the new warrior at any moment.

Savas might not be able to hold back with an attack of this power.

As soon as Kraun sensed the explosive aura, he retreated, ready to avoid his opponent's sharp edge.

His opponent's sword had blocked Kraun's downward slash, but the force behind it remained. The impact left Kraun's entire arm numb.

He understood. His opponent had unleashed a powerful move.

He couldn't meet it head-on, so he wisely switched to hit-and-run tactics.

But his opponent was fighting for all he was worth. He wasn't going to let Kraun evade so easily. Red light broke free of Savas's sword and slashed out in a sweeping arc.

Kraun lowered his center of gravity and twisted aside. The arc grazed his right arm, tearing away a large swath of flesh.

The pain made him see red.

Instead of retreating, he charged forward.

He used Time Stop at the moments when his opponent switched between attacks.

Savas found it deeply frustrating. His attacks should have reached their targets, yet his enemy always seemed to seize the initiative and disrupt his rhythm first.

A strange sight unfolded: a new warrior was suppressing a veteran who was using the Flame Cross Sword Technique.

Marshall glanced at the pocket watch in his hand. Fifteen minutes had passed.

"Time's up! Kraun wins!"

He shouted, but neither fighter paid him any attention.

Kraun's attacks flowed without end, like a mighty river, while Red Beard was a rock in its midst, swallowed by the waves.

Kraun had a feeling that some strange power was budding within him. Battle was the best way to unleash it.

His speed hadn't increased, nor had his strength, but the rhythm of his attacks kept improving.

He found a unique way to fight. After blocking the force several times in a row, he wore it down completely.

A moment later, even without the power of the Time Hourglass, he could suppress Red Beard.

Kraun felt a faint warmth flowing through his body. When it reached the soles of his feet, inspiration struck. He suddenly stepped forward, his sword moving with him, and knocked Savas's thrusting blade aside. Using the rebound, he easily guided his sword tip to Savas's Adam's apple.

"I've won again."