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TGGG — Chapter 80: Dueling a Genius Swordswoman
🕑 Added 2025-08-18 12:24:28 +0000 UTCShe studied me for a moment with a look that bordered on curiosity and calculation. Her gaze wasn’t aggressive, but it carried the weight of someone who didn’t speak unless they had a reason to. There was no hostility—only a sharp, quiet confidence.
“You are him, aren’t you?” she said again, this time not as a question, but a statement. “The one who took down Graham before he turned into a monster.”
“I suppose I am,” I replied, folding my arms. Considering hundreds of divine warriors had witnessed that fight, there was no way to keep it hidden. “And you are?”
“Erika Saito. From the fifth batch,” she said, giving a small nod. “I wasn’t in the arena, but I watched the replay… multiple times.”
Fifth batch…? I paused, processing her words. That meant she was among the earliest divine warriors summoned to Fantasia—one of the veterans. Someone who had seen many more of the scenarios than the average divine warrior. No wonder she felt different. There was a quiet sharpness to her, like a blade kept hidden until drawn.
She suddenly reached behind her shoulder with her left hand, drew the katana strapped across her back, and pointed the blade at me in a clean, practiced motion. “I want to spar with you.”
Michelle blinked in surprise. “Wait, really?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is this some kind of grudge match, or—?”
“No,” she cut in smoothly. “Graham was a hindrance I would’ve dealt with eventually. You simply beat me to it. I’m not here for revenge—I just want to test myself. You fought someone way above your level and won. I want to see if I can do the same.”
There was no arrogance in her voice. Just a calm, focused intensity—the kind that came from someone who had trained hard and long, someone who wanted to sharpen herself against a real edge. I could respect that. And frankly, I wouldn’t mind testing my limits either.
“Alright,” I said with a shrug. “But I’m not going to hold back.”
A faint smile flickered at the corner of her lips, barely perceptible, but it was there. “Good. I hate weak opponents.”
Michelle looked between us with a surprised but intrigued expression. “Wow, you’re popular today.”
“Yeah, I think you’ve got the wrong idea here,” I muttered as I turned and made my way toward one of the unoccupied dueling cubes. “Seems like today’s turning into a sparring festival.”
Erika followed in silence, her katana lowered but still in hand. There was no doubt about it: she was strong. Maybe not quite on the level of Graham’s raw, monstrous strength, but in terms of pure technique and precision, she felt more dangerous. She was exuding both refined and focused movements, as if someone who had made swordsmanship not just a skill but a way of life.
The sparring that Boris and Igor were engaged in was still raging on as we entered the cube beside theirs. The mana barrier quickly shimmered to life, sealing us inside.
I rolled my shoulders and stretched out my fingers, loosening each joint before unsheathing my sword. The familiar weight settled into my palm as I took my stance. Across the cube, Erika held her katana in a high stance—right foot forward, blade tilted slightly down, her grip so still as if she’d used this posture countless times.
“Is that your weapon?” she asked, eyes flicking to my blade—Howling Edge.
“Yeah,” I replied. “It hasn’t been with me for long, but I’ve grown a bit accustomed to using it.”
“Then let’s see how good you are with the sword.”
Without warning, she launched at me.
Her first step was like the wind—swift, fluid, and devoid of wasted motion. What followed was a clean, slicing arc that came at me faster than I anticipated. I barely managed to parry in time, but her blade twisted around mine with elegant precision and bit into my shoulder. Pain flared sharp and immediate. The wound wasn’t deep, but the strike was something I couldn’t have blocked or dodged.
What the heck?! How can she move like that?
I quickly backed off, trying to gain some breathing room. Fortunately, she didn’t press the advantage, simply returning to her stance. Her expression was as unreadable as ever. She’s dangerous…
Her attack had been impossible to block with pure instinct alone. She must have been someone who had practiced the same motion thousands of times until it became second nature. As a precaution, I activated Inspect Eye on her.
Erika Saito
HP: 100%
Rank: Gimmel [3]
Patron God: Istellia (Goddess of Imagination)
Class: Samurai
Total Attribute Points: 2,024
Her pure stats alone weren’t significantly higher than mine, but her swordsmanship was in another league entirely. The Samurai class itself, although rare, wasn’t as unique a class as what Boris and Michelle possessed. Yet in her hands, her class was utilized to its fullest extent possible.
“What, getting cold feet already?” she taunted, noting my silence.
I didn’t bother answering. Instead, I rushed in, throwing a series of quick feints followed by a sudden diagonal slash meant to catch her off guard. But she deflected them all with minimal movement, her katana flowing like a stream around my blade. Her movement sliding like water over stone, like she’d danced this pattern a thousand times before. Then came another riposte from her, so fast that I barely managed to block just in time, but her katana still grazed my side, leaving another cut.
“Ugh…” I grunted, staggering a half step back.
Her swordsmanship was a world apart from mine. Where I relied on instinct, she form, timing, and rhythm. Each strike had weight behind it, not from strength, but from technique sharpened to lethal precision.
I already knew since the first exchange that I wouldn’t win this bout—not without revealing cards I couldn’t afford to play. In the Grand Colosseum, I had the advantage of terrain and distance. I could mask my abilities and disguise my tactics. But here, in this transparent cube under the watchful eyes of so many divine warriors, there was nowhere to hide.
And thus, the fight continued on with me accumulating one small wound after another with every clash. She wasn’t overwhelming me with power. No, Erika was carving me apart, one precise cut at a time.
If I couldn’t overpower her, then I had to make each exchange count. I began observing her footwork more carefully, watching how her hips turned during each strike, how she shifted her weight subtly before a parry. I tried to learn from her style even as I bled.
But then, I realized that she was doing the same. Every time I changed my rhythm or added a twist to my form, she adapted, improving her timing and tightening her guard. If Michelle was a genius who could adapt to changing scenarios, then Erika was a genius who learned you. The longer you fought her, the more you played into her hands. She was a mirror, sharpening her blade with your reflection.
“You are weak,” Erika’s voice rang in my mind. “How did you defeat Graham with power like this?”
Well, of course, that was because of my signature skill—Grant Plausibility—quietly buffing me behind the scenes, but I wasn’t about to unveil that in a public sparring match with dozens of divine warriors watching from all sides. Still… this was getting out of hand. She hadn’t even unsheathed her second katana yet, and she was already pushing me back. Clearly, she was still holding back.
That could be a problem. If I kept this up, someone might start wondering how I’d managed to defeat Graham at all. In rare situations like this, hiding my strength too much would attract more attention than otherwise. And too much attention wasn’t what I needed right now. So be it. If I wanted to shift the narrative a little, I had to raise the stakes.
With that in mind, I activated Wind Rush, and my body shot forward in a burst of speed. Erika’s eyes flickered with mild surprise as I suddenly closed the gap and brought down a powerful Heavy Slash. Our blades clashed hard. The force behind my strike reverberated through the barrier as Erika absorbed the blow and slid back a step.
The moment our blades disengaged, I pivoted—Predator’s Step activating and instantly repositioning me behind her right side. She turned her head, reacting to my movement, but I was already driving the tip of my blade forward with a precise Heavy Stab, aiming for her side.
She spun at the last moment, her katana angling to parry the thrust.
Clang!
Sparks flew from the steel-on-steel contact.
For the first time in the fight, she frowned a little. It appeared that my sudden and erratic movements had broken her tempo momentarily. Nevertheless, I knew that this alone wouldn’t be enough to eke out a win.
While narrowing her eyes, Erika reached behind her shoulder and drew her second katana. The ringing chime of steel was sharp and crisp, and from that sound alone, I could tell that her weapons were of high quality, likely at least unique-grade.
“Be careful. I’ll be going all out from here,” she warned flatly.
I tensed immediately as her stance shifted, becoming more fluid. Both blades were lowered in a dual-guard position. Then, without further warning, she vanished in a blur.
“Whirlwind Draw.”
Her blades flashed like twin streaks of silver. I barely managed to block the first strike with my buckler, then parried the second. I ducked beneath a third horizontal slash, but the fourth and fifth came in too fast. One grazed my thigh, whereas the other nicked across my forearm, drawing a thin line of blood. I retaliated with Heavy Slash, but she deflected it aside effortlessly with her off-hand blade.
Tch, she’s fast. Too fast!
I gritted my teeth and activated Wind Rush again to leap backward, trying to create some distance. But she didn’t give me the chance. She was already in the air, her silhouette blotting out the light as she dove. Her blades shimmered with mana as she swung—a wide diagonal slash with both blades.
Unable to dodge, I raised my shield in time.
“Gah…!” The impact sent a shock up my arm as the second blade crashed into my side.
Before I could fully recover, she pressed again. I parried the first blade and lunged forward for a counter, but it was a trap. She baited the strike, then twisted both her blades inward with perfect timing. They crashed against my wrist, the force jolting through my arm, causing my grip to slip.
With a flick of her wrist and a well-angled cut, she sent my sword flying across the cube, clattering it against the far wall.
And just like that, I was unarmed and breathing hard.
She pointed one katana at me, calm and composed, while the other rested lightly at her side.
“Do you yield?”
