The fat man slammed his massive broadsword into his hands, its crimson blade reflecting light like raging flames. He curled his lips into a smug grin as he looked down at Shun's small frame:
— "Hahaha! Kid, you dare to raise your hand against me? With that tiny little sword, you think you even have the right?!"
Shun said nothing, his eyes as hard as steel. In his hands was a sword he had borrowed without permission from a shopkeeper, who had just shouted in shock upon realizing his "reserved item" had been taken without asking. The blade gleamed, but the shopkeeper seemed ready to jump in and snatch it back:
— "Hey! That's my sword! Who gave you permission to take it?!"
-"I-I'm sorry!! I'll pay for it later!!" Shun shouted hastily.
He lunged forward, the borrowed sword flashing in his hands. A long, powerful swing tore through the air, as if he wanted to cut the very space in front of him. But the fat man was unaffected; he lightly tilted his body aside, dodging it as easily as a child playing a game. Shun's sword sliced past him with a sharp, slicing whistle—but it hit nothing.
Immediately, a strange sensation pressed down onto Shun's shoulders. A wave of Gil, like an invisible boulder, weighed down his body, making every step feel impossibly heavy, his arms and legs locked in place. Sweat drenched his forehead; his breath came in ragged gasps, and his heart raced.
Shun realized instantly: this was not just physical strength. This was Gil – the radiating energy.
He felt the fat man's Gil spreading through the space around him. It did not only crush his body, but also gripped his mind, making every thought heavy, almost paralyzing him. A faint but terrifying sense of fear crept into his will, threatening to break him instantly.
Yet Shun did not stop. He drew a deep breath, struggling to stay upright, gripping the hilt tightly. Drops of sweat ran down his face, but in his eyes shone a determined light.
— "I… cannot retreat…" he whispered to himself.
The opponent in front of him laughed heartily, his voice booming across the market:
— "Hahaha! Kid, you think just holding a sword is enough? My Gil alone could crush you from a distance, and yet you still want to charge?!"
The space around trembled with every step the fat man took. Waves of Gil relentlessly assaulted Shun's will. He felt his body sink into a suffocating fog, yet he gritted his teeth and pressed forward. The borrowed sword in his hand became the only symbol of his resolve.
This time, Shun knew clearly that it was not only physical strength but also willpower and Gil that would determine the outcome of this battle. Every swing, every step had to pierce through the invisible barrier his opponent had created. This fight was not just of muscles—it was of mind and spirit.
Suddenly, Shun's body was almost immobile, every muscle pressed down by his opponent's Gil as if frozen in place. Yet the fighting spirit within him would not allow him to submit. He took a deep breath, his entire being surging with energy, and his eyes flashed with absolute determination.
A surge of spiritual power clashed against Gronn's Gil, slightly freeing Shun's body. He moved forward inch by inch, then charged, gripping the hilt tightly, ready to swing a decisive strike. The sword gleamed, as if it could tear through a huge chunk of earth before him.
But immediately, Gronn's Gil slammed down like an invisible boulder, pinning Shun to the ground. He felt his body paralyzed, unable to move, his mind struggling against the overwhelming fear brought by Gronn's Gil. His heart raced, sweat drenched his face, yet in his eyes shone an unyielding spirit, refusing to surrender.
Gronn laughed heartily, his voice echoing throughout the night market. He raised his colossal sword high, its crimson blade reflecting the light like blazing fire:
— "Hahaha! Kid… too weak. Weaker than even my dog. I am Gronn the Great Blade, younger brother of the White Dragon Guild Leader. Remember my name!"
Around the stalls and throughout the night market, people began whispering, stunned by Shun's audacity. A child near a stall exclaimed:
— "That kid… dared to challenge Gronn the Great Blade?!"
The sword shop owner looked at him anxiously, partly because the sword hadn't been paid for yet, and partly because of the danger to Shun's life. But he couldn't risk fighting a monster like Gronn.
Yet Shun, pinned flat to the ground, did not retreat. His fighting spirit blazed within him, ready to erupt at any moment. Everyone could see his body restrained by Gil, but in his eyes burned an unyielding fire.
This was not merely a battle of strength; it was a battle of will, spirit, and courage.
Gronn laughed loudly, a sound that echoed throughout the night market, sending shivers down everyone's spines. He lifted his massive sword high, ready to send Shun… "to the heavens" for daring to defy him.
— "You're too weak! The weak belong in hell to suffer, you insolent brat!!" — he roared, his voice booming like thunder, and swung his sword, tearing through the air and wind around him.
Before the blade could strike down, his hands suddenly trembled. Gronn's eyes widened in shock and fear, sweat pouring down his face. Two massive waves of Gil—one more powerful than anything he had ever felt, and another he recognized—were heading straight for the battlefield in the market. The space around them seemed to shrink, the wind whistled, and dust swirled violently.
He gaped in complete surprise. It wasn't just someone wielding a sword, but two equally powerful waves of Gil, stronger than himself, their overwhelming force stunning even Gronn the Great Blade—someone who had always been confident that no one except his sister could threaten him.
Around them, the crowd began to step back, astonished by the overwhelming energy surging into the market, turning the bustling trading area into an eerie silence.
Gronn, who had always been confident in his oppressive strength, now froze, unsure how to respond. His massive sword hovered in the air, caught by the invisible force, ready to fall but not yet striking.
— "You insolent brat!!!" — a woman's voice rang out, cold yet commanding, making the entire night market fall silent.
Before Gronn could react, the red-haired girl appeared beneath him like lightning. Her feet touched the ground without a sound, yet the pressure of her Gil made the earth tremble. Gronn immediately shivered, pure terror written across his face:
— "Sis… Sis?! How… how are you… here?!!" — he stammered, shaking, his massive frame now no more than a mouse facing a cat. The colossal blade hung suspended in midair; Gronn dared not swing it.
Shun's jaw dropped, heart pounding. He immediately recognized her: the red-haired girl in armor he had bumped into at the crossroads near the Hunter's Hotel. Her gaze was sharp, full of authority, fixed on Gronn:
— "Why did you forbid your sister from being here?" — her voice rang out, powerful enough that her Gil radiated throughout the market, pressing down on everyone nearby, forcing them to step back, some even feeling their minds compressed.
Gronn immediately crossed his arms, bowing repeatedly, apologies pouring out like an unstoppable stream. His whole body shook, sweat dripping. The giant blade, once a symbol of oppressive power, was now restrained by an invisible force, unable to descend.
Shun remained on the ground, dumbfounded, eyes wide, unable to believe what was happening. But it didn't stop there. Another equally powerful wave of Gil surged toward the battlefield. Shun's heart skipped a beat—he recognized it immediately: Holland was approaching.
— "Oh, come on now..~~"
Holland, now slightly sobered, spoke.
The two overwhelming waves of Gil from different directions caused the surrounding space to shrink, wind howling, dust swirling violently. Every step, every movement of Gronn was dominated; his body shook, eyes avoiding looking up. It wasn't just power—it was the psychological pressure of Gil, bending the will of any weak mind.
Around them, the crowd started to back away, gasps and astonished stares weaving through the air. Everyone realized that Gronn the Great Blade, who had once believed no one except his sister could threaten him, was now completely overpowered—not only by his sister but also by a mysterious man: Holland.
Shun stood amid the tremendous pressure, drenched in sweat, yet a determined light flashed in his eyes. The fire of combat within him ignited, merging with the Gil of Holland and the red-haired girl, generating a fearsome pressure strong enough to make Gronn stop all action, trembling and struggling to breathe.
A battle where strength, willpower, and courage erupted simultaneously. It was not just a duel of swords but a war of spirit and Gil, where every opponent had to falter before unimaginable power.
— "Stop what? What if my little brother killed your little brother already? What if we'd been too late?!" the red-haired girl shouted at Holland.
Holland just chuckled. The two seemed to know each other already.