Chapter 65

‘So all he’s been honing this whole time was a counter technique?’

It was unexpected.

It didn’t seem to suit the swordsmanship that Ron usually used. And I knew better than anyone just how much of a bastard he could be.

Wasn't Ron Winterbell just as belligerent as Lin Winterbell? The fact that someone like him had been practicing a counter technique felt extremely strange—and at the same time, it made me somewhat proud.

That thug of a man was now approaching strength with a surprisingly serious attitude.

"How did you come up with this idea? Why would you, of all things, choose to learn a counter technique?"

Ron Winterbell answered my question—without stopping his sword swings, of course.

"I thought a lot about it. If I wanted to beat you, if I wanted to become stronger, I had to consider how I should train. What my strengths were."

"And?"

"It wasn't easy to find an answer. Then suddenly I remembered stories about old swordsmen who only used counter techniques. Apparently, there was an eccentric among Winterbell's ancestors who did exactly that."

"An eccentric who only used counters? Are you saying someone that strange existed in the Winterbell family?"

"Yeah. Just like you said, a weirdo. A real eccentric. He could’ve become the Patriarch but gave it up. That’s how weird he was. But no one ever questioned his skill. He gave up the chance to be Patriarch despite his ability. He devoted his whole life to perfecting counter techniques. Of course, he knew other forms of swordsmanship, but right up until the moment he died, he focused solely on creating the perfect counter. When I heard that, it hit me."

"……What did?"

"Rather than trying to create the perfect swordsmanship, wouldn’t it be faster to make a counter technique that could deflect all other forms of swordsmanship? Isn’t that the real path to becoming the strongest?"

Honestly, it was such a simple and shallow idea that I didn’t know what to say. But if I thought about it carefully, it wasn’t necessarily wrong. If someone could counter every attack in existence, then that really wouldn’t be any different from being the strongest. If they could counter magic, swordsmanship, aura, divine powers—even the wrath of the gods…

‘There’d be nothing left to fear.’

Of course.

Whether that was even possible was another issue entirely.

"I understand what you’re thinking. But I’ve already become obsessed with counter techniques, and I’ve made it my goal to create a counter that can repel any skill in this world. Even if it’s the Patriarch’s sword."

"……Well, that’s a good way to think. Sure, I’ll root for you. If you really manage to master a counter that can respond to anything, then you’d pretty much be invincible. But… haven’t you considered the one critical flaw?"

"A critical flaw? What’s that?"

"Hmm. It’ll be faster to show you than to explain. Get into position."

Ron Winterbell got into his stance to use the counter technique. I stared at him without looking away. Ten seconds passed. Then twenty. Then a full minute. And I still didn’t make a move—I just kept staring at him.

"……."

"……."

Unable to hold it in any longer, Ron Winterbell opened his mouth.

"You told me to get into position, so I did. What the hell are you doing now?"

Ron Winterbell looked at me with an expression that screamed disbelief.

I looked back at him and sneered.

"Still haven’t figured it out?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Your brain’s not working too well today, huh? Big brother."

"…Quit dodging the question and speak clearly."

"The biggest weakness of counter techniques."

"……?"

I pointed my sword at him.

"You can’t strike first. If your opponent doesn’t attack, it’s completely useless. Isn’t that the biggest flaw? Look at this situation—we’ve been in a standoff for minutes now."

"……."

"Don’t tell me… you didn’t think this far ahead?"

"Of course I did."

"It’s fine to aim for the strongest counter technique, but you should also be thinking about how you’ll cover that fatal weakness. And…"

I explosively expanded my muscles and swung my sword toward Ron Winterbell’s chest with a burst of speed. The blade traced an unusual trajectory, effortlessly breaking through Ron Winterbell’s counter stance and stopping just short at his chest.

His clothes tore, and a thin line of blood welled up from the split skin.

"……."

I looked at him and smiled faintly.

"Seems like you’ve still got a long way to go. At this level, I doubt you can counter the Patriarch’s sword—hell, you can’t even counter mine."

Ron Winterbell looked at me in shock.

"You’ve gotten stronger. That just now… what kind of technique was that?"

"It’d be boring if I told you so easily, wouldn’t it? Figure it out yourself next time. If you do, I’ll face you again. But that’s enough for today."

"…Alright. Thanks."

Ron Winterbell looked frustrated, but he didn’t come charging at me like he used to. Instead, he stared at me with a look of awe, as if reigniting a flame within himself. It seemed that I had become a source of inspiration for him.

‘If he keeps growing without straying from the path, Ron Winterbell could become a great swordsman in the end too.’

Ron Winterbell spoke.

"When I heard you challenged our sister to a ranking duel, to be honest, I thought even someone like you had lost his mind. I know you’re skilled, but you can’t ignore the difference in years lived and experience. But now that I’ve seen you like this… I’m starting to question what that gap even means anymore. Maybe… maybe you really can win."

"Well, whatever you think is up to you… but don’t you think I had a pretty solid reason for challenging her to a ranking duel with full confidence?"

"I guess so. You’re not the type to make a move like that without thinking."

Ron Winterbell left the training grounds just like that.

---

Time passed, and soon the day of the ranking duel arrived.

Lin Winterbell versus Ran Winterbell.

Even within the family, our duel had become a major topic.

I had defeated Ron Winterbell, despite being a half-cripple. Now I was challenging Lin Winterbell. Given the Winterbell family’s combative nature, it was only natural they were all losing their minds over this.

And of course, it made sense. Ranking duels didn’t happen often. And at the center of this one stood Lin Winterbell—the mad dog of the family. And the one who had challenged her was me, Ran Winterbell, whose stock had been skyrocketing lately.

Amidst all the commotion, it became clear that the Patriarch, Arkan Winterbell, was also quite interested in this ranking duel.

Because he had come in person to witness it.

The fact that the Patriarch himself had come carried a lot of weight.

This duel would likely become a turning point—one capable of changing the futures of both me and Lin.

"……"

"……"

[Surely… you’re not nervous, are you?]

As if.

No matter how skilled Lin Winterbell was, if she lost here, she’d have to give up on becoming the Patriarch and everything else. Don’t you think?

[True. Even if she’s a descendant of that man’s bloodline, you were born on a whole different level, weren’t you?]

Right. I’m on a different level.

[If someone who was part of the former Hero’s party loses to a kid who’s still wet behind the ears, he ought to just keel over and die. Obviously.]

You do realize that if I die, you’re finished too, right?

[…]

You’d better be hoping I don’t lose, just in case. Honestly, who else besides me could possibly fulfill your wish? That’s gonna be tough. Don’t you think?

[…I’ll cheer for you.]

Good. That’s more like it.

As I stepped up onto the training grounds, Lin Winterbell also made her entrance from the opposite side.

Unlike usual, she wore a surprisingly calm expression. She looked straight at me.

A gaze filled with killing intent.

Yet it was also focused and controlled.

‘Looks like she came prepared this time.’

[Even that wild filly can act serious, huh. Is it because the Patriarch is watching?]

Probably.

The judge for today’s match wasn’t the second son, Lux Winterbell, but the eldest—Ryan Winterbell.

‘Didn’t expect to see him like this…’

Ryan Winterbell.

The eldest son of the Winterbell family.

The heir to the North.

He carried many titles and nicknames, but to me, he was nothing more than a kind older brother.

And that very brother was now looking at me with a smile.

"It’s been a while, little one. You’ve grown up quite splendidly. I heard you’ve been through a lot. Seeing how you’ve overcome hardship and grown into someone so remarkable… I feel proud."

He hadn’t changed at all from how I remembered.

Still kind.

Still warm.

And yet, someone who felt out of reach.

Even in the warmth of his gaze, I couldn’t shake an inexplicable sense of dread.

Was it just my imagination?

I showed nothing on the surface.

"It’s been a while, Brother. I’m honored to meet you again like this. I heard you’ve successfully completed the mission you were assigned. Congratulations."

"Come now, no need for congratulations. We’ll talk more later—let’s focus on the ranking duel for now. I was quite surprised when I heard you challenged Lin… but I’m sure you had your reasons."

"Yes."

"Good. Do your best."

With that, Ryan Winterbell made his way to the center of the training ground. Lin and I also moved to our positions.

The audience held its breath as they looked at us.

The people of the annex. Cecil. My siblings. The members of the family.

Every single person of the Winterbell family was now watching me and Lin Winterbell.

Among them stood Darkin Winterbell—who was now my teacher.

The old man looked at me with a mischievous grin. Then he mouthed the words:

If you lose, you die.

As expected, that was just like him—a very him kind of encouragement.

Ryan Winterbell glanced at Arkan Winterbell, seated in the highest seat of honor.

The match wouldn’t begin until the family’s most senior figure gave the signal to start.

Arkan Winterbell opened his mouth.

"I declare the beginning of the ranking duel."

The moment those words left his lips, Lin Winterbell and I charged at each other without hesitation.

Chwak!

Swaeng!

Our swords clashed in an instant.

The blades collided midair with a fierce shockwave that tore through the air.

‘As expected, monstrous strength.’

I already knew how strong she was.

But now, I didn’t lose to her in raw power anymore.

"!"

A look of confusion crossed her face.

She was thrown off by how much stronger I’d become.

But it was far too early to be surprised—this was only the beginning.

I kicked off the ground and burst forward, instantly unleashing my aura.

The energy erupted as if it would consume everything around it, cloaking the entire dueling ground in a flurry of white snowflakes.

"You’ve got a nice expression there, Sister."

"You son of a btch…."