There are said to be only a handful of Sword Saints in this world.
And now, I stand before one of them, sword in hand.
I've never held a sword in my life, let alone faced someone called a Sword Saint.
In a world where all humanity lived under a system of absolute equality, there was no conflict, no need for swordsmanship training.
Yet, here I am, standing in the arena of the King's Tournament, holding a sword and facing a Sword Saint.
The King's Tournament is a competition where contestants display their swordsmanship before the king, often a harsh tournament where participants sometimes lose their lives.
Unfortunately, I drew the Sword Saint in the very first match of the finals.
The Sword Saint before me speaks with a smile.
"Do you think such heretical techniques as dual-wielding will work against me? I'd commend you for making it this far, but you must've bribed some noble to get in, didn't you? Know this—I won't be fooled by any tricks."
Honestly, I can't blame him for thinking that.
I'm a no-name swordsman who's never been heard of before.
In fact, as a former slave, I shouldn't even have the right to stand here.
"…"
I have no words to respond with, so I stay silent.
"Heh, tongue-tied with fear? A fool like you has no business in this tournament. But I'll humor you, just this once. Defend yourself with everything you have, or you'll die for real."
His voice, likely inaudible to the nobles, royals, and commoners in the audience, carries a chilling weight.
Even a Sword Saint must have undergone immense training to participate in a tournament like this.
When he says he'll "seriously" fight me, for any normal human, that would mean certain death.
Of course, everyone in the audience came here expecting to see the Sword Saint triumph.
I lift my sword into position.
"Oh? What school of swordsmanship is that? It looks full of openings, but you seem to have some skill. Perhaps you didn't cheat your way through the preliminaries after all. I'll make sure not to underestimate you."
As expected of someone called a Sword Saint, all trace of his initial carelessness vanishes in an instant.
The next moment, an overwhelming pressure emanates from him, bearing down on me.
That I managed to make him take up his stance puts me at a clear disadvantage.
But.
I stand naturally in place.
"What's this? I don't feel any fighting spirit or killing intent from you. And yet, how can you stand there so calmly?"
"…"
"Well, no matter. Let's speak through our swords."
As we both take our stances, a voice calls out from the judges' seats.
"Begin!"
The air around us grows tense. I wait for the Sword Saint's first strike.
A voice echoes in my mind.
**"Follow the guide. The first strike will come in 0.2 seconds. A horizontal slash from the right."**
The mechanical, monotone voice gives its instructions in less than 0.1 seconds.
The next moment, my body drops into a low crouch.
Above my head, just grazing my hair, the Sword Saint's powerful strike sweeps past.
As he completes the swing, I begin to rise, aiming an upward slash at him from just above the ground, but another voice interrupts.
**"The opponent will dodge and counter. Block with your left sword, stop your right sword at their waist, and step forward one meter, extending your arm."**
My body moves in perfect sync with the voice, completing the maneuver in less than 0.1 seconds.
*Clang!*
I intercept the Sword Saint's sword with my left blade, though the force of the blow almost overwhelms me.
**"Advance 60 centimeters further."**
As his sword begins to press me back, I step in closer, bringing my body to his extended arm.
Using the momentum, my right blade, thrust forward at his waist, strikes true.
*Thwack!*
The Sword Saint's body is sent flying backward as if repelled by my strike.
**"The opponent leaped back voluntarily. Do not pursue; hold your position."**
I stay still as the Sword Saint's blade slices through the air where I would have been.
**"Roll backward."**
I roll backward as instructed, avoiding the blade that buries itself in the ground where I had been standing.
The Sword Saint grins as he glares at me.
"Incredible! You dodged that?"
"…"
"To think there'd be such an interesting one out in the wild."
The voice in my mind speaks again.
**"Computation complete. All of the opponent's movements are now predictable."**
The Sword Saint closes the distance instantly, his sword raised high.
He must be using a skill like "Ground Shrink."
But it's too late.
His initial strike should have ended me.
He has given away far too much information, and now every move he makes is laid bare.
Thanks to the ultra-fast particle AI's predictive computations, I move before he can.
**"Swing your left sword horizontally, 15 centimeters from the ground."**
I lower my stance and sweep my left blade.
The Sword Saint leaps 30 centimeters into the air to evade.
But that's where it ends.
**"Thrust upward with your right sword and execute a high-speed front flip."**
*Whoosh!*
*Crash!*
The blade in my right hand strikes the Sword Saint's right shoulder with full force during my flip.
The impact crushes his collarbone, forcing him to drop his sword.
"Gah!"
"…"
The crowd falls silent as the Sword Saint drops to his knees, clutching his injured shoulder.
I raise my right sword above him, poised to strike.
"Enough! The winner is Kohaku!"
The judge's voice rings out, and I halt my blade just above the Sword Saint's head.
If I had swung, his skull would have been split open.
I sheathe my swords and offer him a hand.
"Well done. But I won't accept help from the man who defeated me," he says, standing on his own.
The arena erupts in thunderous cheers.
How did I, someone who's never even held a sword or fought anyone, end up like this?
Let me explain.