The Sword Saint’s Second Life As a Fox Girl

3-11 Visage

Cynric had left a poor first impression on Erin in terms of his battle prowess but her impression began to change as she witnessed the Augur preparing his battle stance. It lacked polishing but the foundation was firm. Cynric wasn’t the frail boy she had pictured.

The Augur’s choice of weapon was a sabre much like hers. Erin also noticed a short sword holstered away behind his waist. Judging by how the sheath was fashioned, the short sword was meant to be drawn in a swift manner. She made a mental note to be cautious of any sneaky attempts even though Cynric did not strike her as such a person but it was better to be safe than feeling apologetic to herself later.

Since Erin felt this duel would be different from the previous ones, she moved to a place a tad further away from Celia and Saphielle but she was nevertheless still within the park. There were fences that spanned the whole perimeter so no eyes would be prying into her duels.

“Lady Erin, I know you think little of me due to my unfortunate happenstance,” Cynric said.

“Why do you care what others think of you?” Erin retorted.

“I care no for what others think of me but I do care about your opinion.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.”

“It’s not something I can help. I want you to understand that.”

Erin tried her best to suppress her grimace. “Be that as it may, I’ll consider your feelings after you defeat me.”

“That I will do my best,” Cynric answered with a smile. He brought his sword up, paralleling his gaze.

“You have been through some rough training,” Erin remarked, drawing her sabre without entering a stance.

“It is the way of my clan. Our skills are honed from birth. The weak perish, the strong thrive.”

“Impressive as it is, a straw target would never amount to a living, breathing target,” Erin said and tossed her sabre at Cynric.

The Augur repelled the sword away in a rush, leaving his front wide open. Erin closed in on him with Lightning Rush and sent a palm into his abdomen. The young swordsman went tumbling across the ground but he recovered his bearings and flipped back onto his feet.

“What the hell was that?” the Augur asked, confusion ridden all over his face.

“That was me taking advantage of your inexperience. You lose.”

“I have not,” Cynric responded, a frown creasing into his expression.

“If this was a real fight, you would have been dead.”

Cynric clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t count. Another round.”

Erin sighed. “Fine, another round but no whining this time.”

Cynric nodded and entered into his stance once again. He waited for Erin to collect her sword but she didn’t move a single inch.

“What are you waiting for? Solstice?”

“You’re unarmed.”

“That’s not a problem,” Erin said, beckoning for the Augur to come with a hand gesture.

As a man, this was more humiliating than even the time he was captured as a slave. At least that time he had the excuse that he was ambushed and his enemies had numbers to their advantage. In this duel, there was no excuse he could use. Although he never told anyone, his pride was hurt when he realized his saviour would later become the subject of his adoration. He harboured a strange hatred since but had always hidden it behind a smile. Hiding his anger wasn’t a difficult task. Considering the type of upbringing he went through, hiding his anger was an everyday feat.

Cynric wanted to display his unfounded anger towards her. He wanted to show her that he wasn’t the feeble individual she assumed him to be. However, he could never predict what manner of woman could take hold of his heart. Every time their paths crossed, he found himself smiling in the truest sense. Even if she was his adoration, a part of him still held on to the unfounded feeling. At the very least, he wanted to be acknowledged in her sight. For a person of her skills, he knew he wasn’t worthy to even be in the corner of her gaze.

The desire to be acknowledged was further and further away now. He heard the rumours of her erratic fighting form but he didn’t believe them completely. Although now, he knew “erratic” wasn’t an exaggeration. Everyone could tell Erin was a swordsman by the sword she carried around with her but to think she would use her sword as a means of distraction to land an attack by way of her hands was simply unprecedented.

Gulping down a lump in his throat along with his hesitation, Cynric charged at Erin. He made a simple thrust in which Erin dodged to the side and gave his wrist a light battering. He spun around and brought his blade around a wide arc but Erin stepped back just enough for his blade to miss her neck by an inch’s breadth. He stopped his swing and brought his blade around but Erin flipped over him and landed behind him. Before he could turn around, he felt something soft yet hard colliding into his face. As he was sent stumbling, it took him a few seconds to realize she had used her tail to hit him.

“Some things are just not meant to be, Cynric. Live with it,” Erin said.

“If you’re a man, you will understand that’s impossible,” Cynric retorted, his grip tightening around his sword.

Hearing that, a vein popped onto her forehead. It wasn’t the fact she was a man that irked her but the fact that she was a man and she couldn’t empathize. After all, the sword had been her everything. To fight for something like love was still a foreign concept. It made her realize just how wasteful she had been as a man. She had wondered how her life as Argon would be if she wasn’t so indulgent in the way of the sword.

Erin was brought back to reality when she felt a shift in the air. A black aura surrounded the Augur and his blade was oozing out smoke that seemed to be weaved out of shadows. Using her Appraisal, the “Shadow Blade Arts” was the most possible skill he could be using. She couldn’t deduce much from the description given but it was enough for her to understand it was a cunning skill that exploited those who relied too much on their sights. Of course, Erin was not one of those.

Cynric closed in with his sword raised. Erin easily side-stepped the slash but in the next flow of motion, what seemed to be a shadowy visage of Cynric emerged from his flesh body. Aside from the withering colours, it was without a doubt Cynric. A clone, so to say. Along with its ethereal sword, it swung at Erin even though the original was still recovering his posture. Erin was surprised but not taken off guard. She was getting used to the aberrations thrown at her. She did not bother blocking the visage’s sword as her instinct told her it would be futile, not that she would do it considering she didn’t have her sword with her.

As Cynric regained his posture, Erin moved to retrieve her sword.

“Looks like you are finally going to take me seriously...” Cynric said, a grin forming on his lips.

“I have always taken you seriously but what you seek is my admiration.”

“For a person as strong and talented as you, do you even have anyone you admire?”

“Of course, I—” and she stopped. No answer immediately came to her mind. She stood at the zenith of swordsmanship in her past life. No one was worthy to be her subject of admiration. In fact, she wished she had someone she could admire but time after time, there was no such person. Until she became Erin in this world. Thrown off her throne, her status as the apex was taken by many. But the one person that stood out from all those individuals, was a certain Dragon-kin who was spending the rest of his life living a Dwarrow smith in a small town.

“Do you?” Cynric challenged.

“I do,” she answered with a smile she didn’t know she had. “I did presume I was unparalleled but he… he taught me the true meaning of power. More than admiration, he was… a friend and a teacher, though he can be quite a bit of an arse at times.”

Cynric heard the word “friend” but he wasn’t convinced. From the way she described him, it sounded more like she was infatuated with him. He didn’t know if she realized that but he wasn’t planning on asking her. In a way, his despair was ever deeper now he knew that because of the man she mentioned, her standards were raised. But of course, these were all simply Cynric’s own inference.

Cynric lunged with a grimace that spelt his jealousy. Erin deflected two of his heavy blows and was preparing to receive the third but then she saw his visage parted from him. His visage lunged at her, faster and stronger. The visage swung its sword and Erin raised her sabre to guard. As she had predicted, her sword passed right through the visage’s but the visage’s blade drew a shallow cut on her sleeve.

The faint success widened Cynric’s grin but it disappeared when he saw the unperturbed expression of Erin, who rushed at him. He was confused at first but quickly realized her intention. His visage was in her path but she phased right through it. In a panic, Cynric took steps back but blundered his footing in his hurry. Erin battered his sword right out of his hand and the sword in the visage’s hand also disappeared. She slashed down but stopped her blade just as the edge touched his skin.

“You lose, Cynric.”

“H-how…?” the Augur asked in sheer disbelief. He lost in the most unexpected manner. His eyes were agape and locked at the sight of his trembling hand.

“I will commend you for your swordsmanship and the control of your strange skill. However, you lack experience and you relied too much on your skill’s oddity. You don’t even understand your skill’s weakness.”

“I-I….”

“If you plan to wallow in despair and self-pity, don’t. You want me to acknowledge you? Start by acknowledging yourself. Before thinking of surpassing anyone, overcome yourself first.”

“If I do that… would you approve of me?”

“If that’s all you care about, nothing will ever change.”

Cynric offered no response and simply gritted his teeth and clenched his fist.

Erin did not wait for him to recover from his shock and left him to his own device. She strode back to the bench where Saphielle and Celia were watching from afar.

“Oh my, how sinful of you, Erin,” Saphielle said while tittering. “You’re making everyone heads over heels for you everywhere.”

“I didn’t ask for that,” Erin retorted with an eye roll. “I have a certain goddess to thank for that.” It no longer surprised her that someone was falling for her again. She was absolutely certain Nyx made her body this way to entice the people she would encounter.

“Is he alright?” Celia asked, pointing at Cynric who was still kneeling on the ground.

“He’ll be fine,” Erin said, rubbing Celia’s head with a warm smile. “He just needs some time alone.”

Celia giggled gleefully in response.

“Someone’s becoming a rage,” Saphielle remarked.

Erin took a seat beside Saphielle. “Becoming a rage is a pain.” Celia immediately hopped into her lap.

“Is it?”

“It’s a hassle to live up to their expectations. And they seem to think you owe it to them for becoming a rage even though they decided everything without your opinion.”

“I suppose that does sound like a pain. But how nostalgic,” Saphielle said. “I remember my similar moments like yesterday.”

Erin raised an eyebrow. “You received challenges to a duel too?”

“Spirits no, not duels. Attempts at courtships. Way before I don the cloth of faith, everyone wanted my hand in marriage, women and men alike, regardless of race.”

Erin suddenly felt a wave of relief. She was glad she was famous for reasons other than being a maiden ripe for marriage. She didn’t think she could handle all those courtings as she still considered herself a greenhorn in the affairs of love.

“I wager it won’t be long before you manage to entice a person of royal blood. Now that’s something I had never achieved.”

“You made it sound like something to be proud of.”

“It’s a testament to one’s beauty. Of course, I’m proud of it,” Saphielle answered.

Erin sighed. In the wake of Saphielle’s words, she feared for the future, especially her time in Sephrodia Valley. “But that’s in the future. For now, I just want to spend whatever time I have left with Celia and the others.”