The Immortal Genius Spearman

Chapter 112

Damian and Creon headed towards the nearby city of Alek.

As they walked, Creon asked, “Who are we going to meet?”

“Sandrun.”

Damian’s short answer made Creon’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Sandrun? You mean that skinny guy?”

“Yeah.”

Sandrun was the second squad leader of the Makstri unit.

He had a slender build, but Damian remembered him as someone highly skilled with a sword.

He was also clever and had an admirable perseverance that Damian appreciated, especially in enduring harsh training.

Creon, still surprised, said, “Has his sentence ended too? I remember it being quite long.”

“It was a year shorter than yours. Once he claimed the gold mine, his sentence was over.”

“Ah, I see,” Creon replied with an awkward smile.

He hadn’t expected Sandrun’s sentence to be shorter than his.

But then, something seemed to come to Creon’s mind as he asked Damian, “What about that other guy?”

“Who?”

Damian glanced at Creon, who answered, “The third squad leader. The one who uses the bow.”

“…”

Damian suddenly paused, thinking of Paul.

“…Paul.”

In fact, when considering reinforcements, Paul had been the first person to come to mind.

But…

‘He still has one month left on his sentence.’

Paul had been doing his best, but he needed a little more time.

Damian already knew the whereabouts and current circumstances of those he sought, thanks to Diel.

“Paul is still serving his sentence. But it’ll end soon, so he’ll probably come around by the time we finish this round of recruitment.”

“Where is he now?”

“The coal mines.”

“What?!”

Creon’s shocked voice echoed. The coal mines were infamous for being one of the toughest places, even among criminals.

Although some lunatics occasionally volunteered to go there to reduce their sentences, it was a brutal place.

“I knew he wasn’t normal, but he’s a madman,” Creon shook his head in disbelief.

The coal mines were almost as dangerous as the Makstri unit, if not more.

Damian chuckled at Creon’s reaction. Paul was doing his best in his own way.

But…

‘He better not get injured before he gets out.’

Damian would have to take some precautions in advance.

With that, Damian and Creon continued their journey to Alek, where Sandrun was.

—

The city of Alek.

It wasn’t a major city, but it was bustling enough with a good number of people.

As a result, various infrastructure and services naturally emerged to accommodate the population.

Step, step.

A man walked with emotionless steps.

His clothes were shabby, and his bangs were so long they nearly covered his eyes.

Other than the sword hanging at his waist, there was nothing remarkable about him.

Eventually, the man—Sandrun—arrived at a swordsmanship training hall in Alek.

It was the most famous training ground in the city, and he had heard that the instructor was a former knight.

Creak.

He opened the door and stepped inside. Several people were training in various forms.

Sandrun spotted the instructor inside the training hall.

With his blonde beard, streaks of white, and an air of authority, it was clear that this man was the instructor.

“Are you the instructor of this training hall, Maturn?”

Sandrun approached the instructor and bluntly asked for his name.

Maturn furrowed his brows slightly and asked, “Who are you?”

“Just a wandering swordsman. I’d like to learn from you—would you be willing to spar?”

“…Huh?”

Maturn couldn’t hide his surprise for a moment.

Occasionally, fools would show up at the training hall seeking duels as part of some misguided “dojo-breaking” challenge.

While it wasn’t difficult to deal with such people, if he accepted every challenge, they’d never stop coming.

Maturn frowned and said, “I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t the place for that. Leave now, or you’ll regret it.”

“I must’ve come to the wrong place,” Sandrun replied, his face expressionless as he turned to leave.

“But if this place is scared of even a mere wanderer, then perhaps its reputation is undeserved. I must have made a mistake. Carry on.”

Sandrun began walking towards the exit.

However, something about his calm demeanor seemed to suggest that the instructor had backed down out of fear.

The trainees in the hall turned their eyes toward Maturn.

Their gazes seemed to ask if he was really going to let the man walk away.

Seeing their expressions, Maturn bit his lip in frustration.

“Wait!”

“…?”

Sandrun paused and turned to look at Maturn.

Maturn asked, “Who are you? What’s your name?”

“Sandrun. No last name. I just came to learn something.”

“You realize you might die, don’t you? You’ll have to bet your life.”

Now that things had escalated, Maturn wasn’t going to let this end lightly.

“If it’s a duel with live blades, I’ll accept.”

Maturn smirked.

With real swords, there was a genuine risk of serious injury or death during a duel. If it came to that, Sandrun would surely back down.

‘Then it won’t seem like I gave up. He’ll be the one to chicken out,’ Maturn thought with a grin.

However,

“I don’t mind. Even if you kill me, I won’t hold a grudge. I’d prefer it if you gave it your all.”

“…What?”

Maturn’s eyes flickered with uncertainty.

There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in Sandrun’s voice.

Maturn’s face hardened into a scowl.

“You arrogant brat. I’ll make you regret your choice. Come up!”

Maturn grabbed the sword hanging on the wall and stepped onto the dueling platform.

In an instant, the trainees gathered around the platform, and Sandrun climbed up to face him.

Srrng.

Sandrun drew his sword.

He lifted it slightly, pointing the blade at Maturn.

As he stood there, Sandrun recalled all the battles he had fought since leaving the Makstri unit.

“…Hoo.”

Sandrun had engaged in countless real sword duels over the years.

He had fought with his life on the line and survived.

Of course, there had been times when he sustained serious injuries, but Sandrun never gave up and continued to hone his combat instincts through real battles.

“I’ll begin now.”

Sandrun spoke to Maturn.

And at that moment—

Fwoosh!

“Hah!”

Maturn charged at Sandrun with impressive speed.

‘I’ll teach you a lesson…!’

It was clear that Maturn intended to finish Sandrun in one strike.

He thrust his sword forward, aiming to sever the tendons between Sandrun’s arm and shoulder.

‘Don’t regret it if you become crippled…!’

But just as Maturn’s sword was about to reach Sandrun—

Slide.

Sandrun took a light step back and swung his sword at Maturn.

Whoosh!

“…!”

Maturn’s eyes widened in shock.

His attack had missed, and Sandrun’s sword was now descending toward his head.

Just before the blade struck—

Thud!

Sandrun’s sword stopped right above Maturn’s head.

Maturn’s eyes shook violently, and his face stiffened.

“Please, give it your all. Try everything you can to defeat me.”

Sandrun withdrew his sword and stepped back a few paces.

Gulp.

Unconsciously, Maturn swallowed hard.

Had Sandrun not stopped his blade just now—

‘I would have died.’

It was a perfect strike, leaving no room for excuses.

A cold chill ran down Maturn’s spine as he realized the close call.

Sandrun spoke again.

“Shall we start again?”

Hearing those words, Maturn began to look at Sandrun with serious eyes.

—

Clang! Clash! Clang!

The fight was incredibly intense.

Though Maturn was now just an instructor in a small town, he had once been skilled enough to join a knight order. Although age had slowed him down compared to his prime—

‘Who the hell is this guy?’

As Maturn exchanged blows with Sandrun, his expression grew more and more grim.

The longer they fought, the harder it became to understand Sandrun.

‘This guy…’

His swordsmanship had no clear form or structure.

Even the way he gripped his sword was unfamiliar.

No, to be more accurate, it was unrefined—like something learned on the streets.

It was the kind of swordplay sometimes seen among mercenaries.

But despite the crude technique, Sandrun was fighting on equal footing with Maturn.

‘Is it just his physical ability?’

That was the only explanation Maturn could think of.

There were always physical geniuses who could compensate for lack of technique with sheer athleticism.

But

‘No, it’s not that either.’

Looking at Sandrun’s body, it was clear he wasn’t the type with superior physical abilities.

Clang!

Sandrun had a lean frame, and his strength didn’t seem particularly great.

Swish. Clash!

As Sandrun skillfully deflected his sword, Maturn furrowed his brow.

Whoosh!

Then, Maturn made a quick feint, lightly shifting his body from side to side before charging at Sandrun.

His plan was to distract Sandrun’s focus with the feint and attack him off-guard.

“Hah!”

As he shouted and shifted to the left, Maturn suddenly ducked to the right, swinging his sword toward Sandrun’s legs.

Clang!

But once again, Sandrun deflected the sword and closed in on him, thrusting his blade forward.

Swish!

“…!”

It was a narrow miss.

Maturn barely managed to avoid the straight thrust by tilting his head to the side at the last moment.

‘Damn…!’

If he had been just a little slower, his face would have been badly wounded.

Maturn stepped back, wiping the blood trickling down his cheek.

“What’s your name? Where did you learn to use a sword?”

“Sandrun. I’ve never formally learned swordsmanship.”

“…”

Just as I thought.

His movements were purely instinctual, honed through experience.

Maturn pressed his lips together tightly.

There was… something about Sandrun, a feeling that if he were just refined a little, he could become much stronger.

Maturn asked him, “Have you ever thought about learning under me? With a year or two of training, you could take the knight’s test.”

“…A knight, huh.”

Sandrun muttered quietly, then—

*Heh.*

“…?”

For the first time since they started fighting, a smile appeared on Sandrun’s face.

But it wasn’t a smile of joy.

It was one of disbelief.

Of course, it was laughable.

After all, not long ago, he had been nothing more than a criminal waiting to die.

And now someone was suggesting he become a knight?

Sandrun shook his head.

“Sorry, but I don’t think that’s—”

Before Sandrun could finish his sentence—

“Sorry, but I’ll be taking him with me.”

A voice interrupted him, and Sandrun turned his head toward the source.

And then—

“…!”

As he saw the person approaching him, Sandrun’s eyes widened in shock.