Chapter 19 - Duel in Radegart

‘This isn’t really formidable, is it?’ Andric wondered as he practiced the Burning Palm Technique. Sixteen nights had passed since he arrived in Radegart, yet he still hadn't made progress on his other martial techniques. He was practicing the first rank of the Burning Palm Technique, but the power he displayed didn’t match what the book described. He should have been able to char pieces of dry firewood by now, but he could only make them slightly warm.

When Andric left the cave, he had already learned the Burning Palm Technique, the Silent Gallop Technique, and the Boulder Crushing Sword Technique to a level where he could use them casually. Yet, he was far from unlocking their full potential. Despite weeks of practicing the Burning Palm Technique and almost a week on the Silent Gallop Technique, he hadn’t mastered either one.

In the system used by magicians, techniques didn't need to be mastered before use. A magician just had to learn how to use their arcane core and mix mana and thought energy. Once they did that, they could use any spell they wanted.

Andric now understood how the martial way differed from the path of magic. For magicians, there was only mastery—no way to use a partially complete spell. Martialists, though, could use martial techniques with only a basic understanding of the underlying principles. The ability to comprehend magic was rare, but martial techniques could be partially mastered by most people.

The martial way existed for quantity, not quality. Out of the millions of martialists, very few might reach the end.

Despite his slow progress with the Burning Palm Technique, Andric didn’t let it dampen his spirits. He paid for twenty more nights at the tavern, ate a large meal, and decided to move on to practicing the second rank of the Burning Palm Technique.

While eating in the tavern, Andric listened to the conversations around him. He hadn't had a leisurely chat with anyone in a long time, but he didn't mind. He was more interested in hearing news. In Einburg, Andric always heard about the state of the kingdom from Gasto and Roza, who got their information from other townspeople. In towns like Einburg and Radegart, news was slow to arrive, and only the most important pieces traveled the thousand-plus miles from the capital.

A few years ago, Hochland had entered a minor war with the kingdom of Baugland, but it ended before Andric’s coming of age. Reports stated that Hochland retreated after taking a small piece of land from Baugland. Small conflicts between them were common, breaking out every few decades.

Recently, there were rumors of Hochland invading Hilzland. Allegedly, Hochland ships had already bombarded Hilzland ports while Hilzland ships were frozen in. A ground campaign couldn’t happen in the winter, but Hochland supposedly reached water superiority before the war was even declared. Without their ships, Hilzland would struggle to import food, weakening them for a spring invasion.

The townspeople of Radegart weren’t happy about the war. Whenever the kingdom waged war, grain taxes soared for months afterward. During winter, towns like Radegart survived on stored grains and slaughtered animals that could be preserved. If Hochland’s army attacked Hilzland, they’d need a lot of food, which they’d take from towns like Radegart.

“The war won’t be so bad this time. By cutting off Hilzland’s food imports, we’ve crippled them. Come spring, the Hilzland army will be starving, or their citizens will be revolting. Their only hope is to smuggle food from the south, but how many storage objects do they have? Ten? Twenty? Even fifty won’t be enough to make a difference,” a townsperson analyzed calmly.

Storage objects were incredibly rare. In Hochland, only the most powerful martialists or top government officials had them. Andric had no idea how Veremund managed to get one, as the previous owner had to be either incredibly powerful or backed by a powerful organization.

The hard truth was that Hilzland didn’t have enough food to last through the winter. To import food from a neutral kingdom, they’d need to send merchants on a journey of at least three thousand miles. Such a long journey would take months, meaning only Adept realm martialists, with their ability to fly, could travel it in a timely manner. Hilzland could only rely on a few Adept realm martialists or ration their remaining food harshly.

“This war is a good chance to make a name for myself. I’ll sign up in spring and get a good rank by summer!” a young man said optimistically.

Andric looked over at the youth, sensing his martial realm. He wasn’t aware of this ability at first, but it seemed that higher-realm martialists could detect lower-realm martialists. While he couldn’t see through Apprentice realm martialists and above, he could identify Novice realm and below.

In the tavern, there were many Human realm martialists and a few Novice realm martialists. There were no Apprentice realm martialists, which was also true in the larger town of Einburg.

“A boy who hasn’t even been weaned off his mother’s teat has no place on the battlefield!” a middle-aged man said loudly, leaning back in his chair. “A Human realm brat is destined to die in a fight between kingdoms!”

“I will survive! I will temper my spirit with the flames of battle!” the youth declared, and several patrons laughed at his enthusiasm.

Andric raised his head and spoke, “If you think you’re tough, you wouldn’t mind sparring with me, right?”

Several heads turned to Andric, watching him curiously. He hadn’t spoken to anyone except the tavern employees since arriving in Radegart. Although many had seen him, nobody had tried talking to him. He usually ate quickly, then went to his room to sleep.

“Sure, I’ll fight anybody,” the youth agreed, raising a fist.

A Novice realm martialist grabbed the youth’s arm and said, while looking at Andric, “Hold on, he’s at the Novice realm.”

In the martial world, it wasn’t uncommon for martialists to kill weaker martialists. The martial way was fraught with peril, and death could come at any moment. The older man worried for the young man’s safety when Andric offered to fight him.

“I just want to practice a new technique. Nobody should get hurt too badly,” Andric said. He really had no intention other than practicing the Burning Palm Technique in combat.

The young man had lived in Radegart all his life, working in the fields with friends and relatives. In addition to practicing his meditation technique, he also practiced martial arts, which were only slightly inferior to martial techniques. Martial arts couldn’t make flames erupt from one’s hand, but they allowed a martialist to fight without using spirit energy on costly martial techniques. They were difficult to train in, and few people practiced them.

“I’ll fight him! I’ll fight anybody who wants to!” the young man exclaimed, walking closer to Andric. “My name is Farvald, and I challenge you to a martial battle!”

“Sit down!” the older man bellowed, startling many patrons in the tavern.

Only the older man and a few others were truly knowledgeable about the martial way, and they sensed something strange about Andric. At almost sixteen, Andric being at the Novice realm was utterly outstanding. Nobody in the tavern could think of anyone who had entered the Novice realm within a year of turning sixteen except for the descendants of sects or powerful clans. Those descendants were rarely humble and never held back. If Andric permanently injured or killed the young man, there wouldn’t be anything a small town like Radegart could do to retaliate, unless they wanted their town obliterated by Andric’s senior.

Andric thought there was nothing wrong with a friendly spar. He hadn’t lived long enough to see wealthy young masters using the backing of their clans to take whatever they wanted from villages. Allowing Farvald to spar with Andric might cause personal injuries, but having someone else spar with Andric might incur wrath from a powerful entity.

“War is no place for a man without the courage to fight a stronger opponent. Here, if you want to flee, you know the terrain well enough to find a place to hide, and you’re surrounded by friends. If you’re on a battlefield and meet a Novice realm soldier, do you think he’ll let you go just because you’re weaker? We should spar so you can learn the difference between a Human realm martialist and a Novice realm martialist,” Andric calmly explained to Farvald. His words also reached the older man, making him less resolute about stopping the fight.

“Uncle, let me fight him. I’ll show you that not even a Novice realm martialist can take me down,” the young man said to the older man, but he was less enthusiastic now.

The older man looked at his nephew, then at Andric. He finally sighed and said, “Alright, but don’t let yourself get too hurt.”

“Haha, you’ll surely be impressed,” Farvald said, then walked toward the tavern exit. Andric took a gulp of wine and followed him.

The two faced off in the street in front of the tavern, standing about thirty feet apart, the standard distance for martial duels. Farvald, eager and ready to prove himself, didn’t bother discussing the rules. He asked, “When do we start?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Andric replied, feeling the spirit energy inside his body begin to circulate.