𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 || 敵の旦那様 (𝐁𝐋) ✔ [COMPLETE]

29. Swords and Wimps

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General Haoran knew he was severely handicapped. He had been a bit too careless.

Even if these men swishing silver blades at him one after the other do not say it themselves, the General knew from where they had come. And who ordered them to come after his life? It was that shitty, pot-bellied minister of revenue. And because this was an official visit that even the Emperor is aware of, the General assumed that the snaky old man wouldn't try anything underhanded.

Turns out his conjecture was wrong.

The General cut a firm arc with a kick that sent one of the black men flying while his neck narrowly avoided the rustic silver metal coming at him from behind. There was a pungent smell wafting through the air. The General gazed at the pointy blade glinting venomously in the blackening woods. Although invisible, it seems even the blades were doused in a mild poison that can leave creatures paralyzed—a potion nobles use in hunting animals.

General Haoran sneered. It seems they really were after his life.

Two silver swords brandished in front of him and one came from behind. General Haoran was motionless, realising that a single mistake could be fatal. Though the poison itself isn't poisonous enough to take his life, if these bastards manage to get one cut on his body, his body would inevitably collapse out of paralysis and he'd be done for. With blades coming at him from all three directions, he was completely trapped.

General Haoran positioned himself in a basic posture of bodily combat and paid no attention to the blade coming at him from behind and watched the two men in front of him.

He gazed at them unblinkingly.

Their sword moves and bodily agility were completely different; one came at him faster than the other and the other wielded his sword in a way that could be classified rather 'ruthless' and 'informal'- the kind of sword technique avoided at Imperial and other formal swordsmanship to

avoid breaking weapons. If he timed his move right, he could break their momentum and gain the upper hand.

Within the 3 seconds the men took to race up to him from the carriage edge, the General thought about what he could do. He was unarmed, defenceless and outnumbered- but he only required one item to save himself.

As the fastest wielder in the frontier stabbed at him with the double edged fatal weapon, General Haoran took a simple step back and threw his pony tailed hair front, tangling the weapon in his hair. Though a considerable amount of his hair was pulled out in the process, the hair wasn't capable of absorbing poison and, for a split second, he felt saved. Right as he breathed out, the slower sword came slashing against him and General Haoran felt the sound of the sword cutting from behind was somewhat similar in timing to the one in front. They were probably combat partners. In one swift move, the General had ducked down and both swords ground into each other mid-air and the ruthless technique of one snapped the sword of the other in half. The impact was such that the man with the snapped sword was bounced back by force and fell off the carriage. The General in the meantime tackled the man who cut his hair and got what he wanted.

The sword.

This was all he wanted.

He stood up gallantly with dust flying around him, his hands branching onto the sword with fiery familiarity, as he had done a hundred thousand times before. Despite the body of the sword being soft-core and light compared to his imperial sword, which was so heavy that only he could ever wield, it was still a sword nonetheless, and to him, it was the calling.