Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day - Chapter 294

Chapter 294: Dual Swordart [II]
Somehow, someway, I managed to escape that little, blind, short, battle-maniac of a demoness alive.

It wasn’t easy.

At some point during the chase, she got serious and deployed a bunch of Enhancement Cards to buff her speed.

So I also had to use my own innate power and ride away on a tidal wave of earth as if I were surfing on solid ground.

Like I said… she didn’t make it easy.

But in the end, I did get away, shouting at her over my shoulder, “You’ll never catch me alive!”

Anyway.

After slipping her grasp, I decided to wait a bit before going back to camp.

So I took a slow walk through the woods, letting my pulse settle and sorting my thoughts on some matters that had been plaguing my mind for a while.

As I strolled, I noticed that there really were no monsters in sight here.

Not a single monster. Not even those overgrown insects. Nothing dangerous at all.

…Well, if you don’t count Kevin.

•••

The jungle felt strange without a constant sense of danger breathing down my neck.

It felt serene, almost peaceful.

It felt normal, like I was back on earth… well, that is if forests on earth had giant black trees, cracked sky, and a bleeding red moon.

Other than that, though? Yeah, it was perfectly normal.

I walked beneath twisted boughs and thick roots coiling in and out of the soil like serpents.

The ground was soft with a sludge of decaying leaves, and the air tasted of iron and damp stone.

As crazy as it may sound, the walk was refreshing.

Yeah, I know — refreshing isn’t a word that most people would use to describe a Death Zone.

But it was.

For a moment, I let myself drift, just listening to my surroundings with a calm mind.

SWISH—!

SWII, SWISHH—!!

…And that was when I heard a series of sharp sounds, like someone slicing the air with edged steel.

I froze for a second or two, which was almost enough time for me to summon my axe as another SWISH came from deeper in the trees.

It sounded nothing like a monster’s cry or a creature’s movement. If anything, it sounded like a rhythm… a pattern.

I narrowed my eyes and approached quietly.

As I did, the forest opened into a small hill.

And there, on its top… I saw my Shadow.

Juliana was moving in the dark with such finesse and elegance that it seemed like she was dancing.

She looked as graceful as a flower petal does while floating in a breeze, or a drop of rain as it falls down in a storm.

It took me a moment to notice that she was practicing a set of swings while wielding two swords at once — a katana in her right hand that sang through the air, and a wakizashi in her left that answered it half a heartbeat later.

Her steps were light and soundless, her motions flowy but sharp enough to carve wind.

Each arc of her blade was clean and deliberate… and as beautiful as it was frighteningly swift.

Her neck-length white hair flicked with every time she made a turn.

And the crimson light of the bleeding moon reflected across both her blades, catching the edges and making them flare like twin ribbons of pale fire.

It was really a sight to behold.

Juliana’s expression was blank.

She always looked empty when she was focused — but I could feel a quiet rage in the way she moved.

It appeared to me as if she was restraining herself.

…Wait. No.

No, it wasn’t restraint…

It was struggle.

She was struggling to go all out. As if the blades weren’t moving in her hands like she wanted them to. Like they were refusing to.

Which felt weird to me.

Because what she was doing already looked perfect in my eyes.

I’m not exaggerating. I wish I could describe it better in words, but I really can’t.

Because there are things in the world that you just can’t capture in words, only in memory. That was one of those things.

The first time I saw her practicing that swordplay was the first time I realized that Juliana Vox Blade wasn’t simply born with talent…

She was also born in defiance of it.

But unbeknownst to my thoughts, Juliana continued practicing.

She dashed forward. Cut. Twisted. Cut again. Her two blades moved in one breath like they were an extension of her arms.

I leaned against a tree, letting the tension bleed out of my grip. My axe felt clumsy compared to the art she was putting on show.

Eventually, she stopped mid-swing, letting her blades rest at her sides. Her white hair shone in the moonlight and fell in waves over the one side of her sweat-slicked face.

And while she didn’t turn to face me, she spoke. “You know, you breathe too loud.”

I blinked, yanked out of my trance by her voice and suddenly very offended. “Excuse me? I don’t!”

She finally turned and looked down at me from atop the small rise.

Right now, she was dressed only in a sleeveless tank top and low-waisted leather pants, leaving her toned abs visibly flexing every time she moved.

“Yes, you do,” she nodded. “And you also look like someone who ran from Alexia again.”

I frowned. “…That’s oddly specific.”

“Is it oddly correct?” She curved her lips up in that little smirk that never failed to annoy me.

I rolled my eyes and immediately changed the topic because there was no use denying anymore. “It was a beautiful swordart you were practicing. Was it the Blossoming Horizons? Because it looked different from Two Heavens As One.”

Two Heavens As One was the Blade’s family signature swordart, popularized by the last Sword Saint of the West — Draven Vox Blade, Juliana’s paternal grandfather.

It was a very versatile swordart that could be used as both offensive and defensive technique depending on the enemy’s fighting style.

As such, it was ridiculously unpredictable, making it a headache to face.

And while Juliana’s father died before passing the technique onto her, she still taught it to herself on her own from her memories of him.

But what Juliana was practising wasn’t that. It was smooth, not tyrannical. It was calming, not wild. It was flowy, not erratic.

She raised an eyebrow. “You know about Blossoming Horizons?”

Now Blossoming Horizons was one of House Valkryns many swordarts. And I knew very little about them.

“Somewhat. Valkryns aren’t exactly secretive about their family’s martial techniques,” I shrugged, then paused. “Your mother was a Valkryn, wasn’t she?”

Juliana waited for a split second longer than needed before sighing softly.

“Technically, she was from the branch family, but yes.” Then she looked at her swords with a heavy gaze. “But what I was practicing wasn’t Blossoming Horizons. It was a swordart my mother developed herself. It’s called the Fall Before Spring.”

Juliana dismissed her swords and started walking downhill toward me. “She taught it to me a few days before she was… killed. The swordart is meant to represent the last petal of spring. The moment when the bloom has ended, when the flowers are wilting, and winter has arrived.”

Her boots brushed through the tall grass as she came to stand before me. “But the meaning isn’t mourning. It’s acceptance. Spring ends… but it always returns. No matter how long the winter is.”

I listened silently, because Juliana rarely spoke about her mother.

My guess was, staying near Kevin for so long had cracked her icy exterior a little.

After all, in Kevin’s presence, you couldn’t feel anger, fear, hate, anxiety, depression — or any negative emotion.

Or, at least, those emotions are significantly weakened.

Meaning, Juliana probably didn’t even realize she was opening up more than usual these days.

…Or maybe she did, and this was again a part of her some long-term convoluted masterplan.

Hard to tell, really.

“To master the verses,” she continued, “you have to understand their essence. You have to understand life is bittersweet. Sorrow is what makes us want to cherish happiness. Cold is what drives us to seek warmth. You have to find comfort in the ache, and let go of the pain. You have to believe spring will come… no matter how long the winter is.”

The bleeding moon glowed faintly on the side of her face.

And when she looked at me, I saw her eyes were calm and empty… and yet strangely vulnerable.

“Fall Before Spring requires a heart that can bend without breaking,” she spoke softly. “And I… can’t do that. I understand the technique. I understand the rhythm. I understand exactly how I need to move. But I can’t seamlessly transition from the second form to the third. No matter how hard I try to push through, the winter doesn’t end.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Because what are you even supposed to say after a seemingly perfect, albeit a little crazy girl who could gut monsters and men alike without changing her expression…

Who could manipulate a room full of schemers with a single sentence…

Who could both terrify and charm people simultaneously…

What are you even supposed to say when a girl like that confesses she couldn’t do something?

That spring wouldn’t come for her.

I exhaled slowly. “…You know, for someone who insists she has no emotions, you sure talk very poetically sometimes.”

She narrowed her eyes like saying seriously. “I lack empathy, not intelligence.”

I snorted.

Juliana let out an almost laugh too.

She had a beautiful smile when she wasn’t trying to be irritating. It was a shame she didn’t smile more often.

…I frowned.

Wait, what the hell am I thinking?

Huh, maybe Kevin was affecting my emotions as well.

Yeah, that must be it.

From here on out, I decided to blame everything wrong in my life on Kevin!