Chapter 212: Blind Combat

Skipping verbal exchange, the message was conveyed perfectly through a simple glance.

【We've been followed.】

It wasn't that group of mourners; after laying the remains to rest, they should have turned back and left, with no reason to linger here; even if they were newcomers, there was no logic in venturing deep into passages choked with bones.

Unless they were other bored sightseers, but meeting at exactly the same time on the same day was far too coincidental.

The follower seemed never to have considered being discovered, maintaining a deliberately lightened pace, following at a distance; the winding passages and surrounding stone chambers obscured the light, while sounds were absorbed into the bone walls.

And for someone with rich experience moving in dark environments, hearing was sometimes even more important than sight; such a tracking with inconsistent footfalls was as obvious as a torch on a midnight street.

This was not a bad thing; Kraft took the lantern from Kup, feigning complete unawareness of the pursuit, walked normally for a stretch, stopped in a fairly spacious stone chamber, and hung the lantern on a protruding fibula.

The deceptive light suggested someone had paused here; Kraft drew his sword, pressed Kup against the wall on the opposite side, and waited in silence.

The opponent reacted not slowly, but with considerable urgency; upon sensing the disappearance of the target's sound, they quickly lightened their steps, yet their footfall frequency increased, rapidly closing the distance to avoid losing the trail.

Kraft guessed their psychological shift: suspecting the target had discovered the pursuit, or having walked into some narrow fork, like an insect vanishing into an unreachable crevice, becoming a stain on memory that caused sleepless nights. They had no choice but to take steps, chasing toward the last direction where the sound had vanished.

Suppressing hurried footsteps to avoid gravel and bone fragments, they suddenly slowed upon passing the nearest corner, becoming even lighter; the tracker delightedly found their worry unfounded, as artificial light was spilling from a stone chamber.

Accompanied by the extremely faint sound of metal leaves closing, the faint light from another lantern in the corridor vanished.

Kraft rotated his wrist to adjust the blade, preparing to strike leisurely once the opponent entered while eyeing the light's position.

Regardless of whether Professor Kalman had hinted at this place, at least this time they should not return empty-handed.

As the distance closed, the footsteps inevitably became clearer; at least two could be distinguished, one light and one heavy.

It was somewhat complicated, making it hard to decide whether to strike decisively the moment the first one entered, or let both enter together, which would introduce considerable instability to what should have been a surefire ambush, giving the opponent time to react.

But there was no lack of methods.

Kraft shrank his body, pressing closer to the wall; countless wrists and elbows propped against his spine, creating the illusion that the dead lining the walls were about to tilt and collapse in shattered fragments.

The tracker paused for a moment at the doorway, but confidence made them hesitate no longer; a figure holding a sword leaped into the stone chamber, adjusting their stance mid-motion, pointing directly at the flame.

The second followed closely behind, the streamlined curves of armor bulging beneath their robes, stepping steadily to occupy the doorway position and guard the first one's rear.

The arrivals were no amateurs, even harder to deal with than some who, having gained a special ability, fancied themselves fearless against blades and swords. Kraft muttered "trouble" in his heart, abandoning the thought of holding back, and thrust his sword straight toward the armored one's neck.

Indeed, upon seeing that old oil lamp hanging on a bone, the newcomer immediately realized they had fallen for a crude yet effective trick; angrily pulling back and turning sharply, they did not cross their sword to defend, but decisively slashed downward in a life-or-death posture.

The time window was far shorter than imagined, but the time Kraft needed was even shorter; the armored one, sensing the anomaly, could not dodge in time, managing only to tilt their head and neck as the blade pierced the fabric.

What was expected—a thrust breaking through until stopped by bone or wedged into a bone seam—did not happen; the blade scraped against a movable linked metal piece, shattering several links by sheer force before sliding shallowly across the skin's surface.

It was chainmail. A labor-intensive and time-consuming protective gear with a high price, maintenance even more tedious, often layered in the gaps of armor where protection was weak, confirming the guess about their professionalism.

At the same time, Kup, hindered by the disadvantage of weapon length, was forced back by a horizontal sweep of the long sword.

The time advantage brought by the small trick failed to translate into sufficient tactical advantage. Relying on the opponent's slight delay, Kraft sheathed his sword while delivering a fierce kick to the armored enemy's knee, leaving the stumbling, off-balance foe for Kup to handle, while he himself advanced to meet the other, who had just swung wide and was adjusting their stance.

This one's swordsmanship quality was no less than their adaptability; gaining space, they instantly reversed their previous posture, immediately retreating to create distance, parrying a low, vicious thrust, then clashing swords directly with Kraft, falling slightly short in strength and stepping back.

In the span of a few seconds of coming and going, the two had gained considerable understanding of each other through an exchange where they hadn't even seen each other's faces clearly—they were not people easily taken down.

The opponent realized there was a gap in physical stamina, while Kraft worried Kup might not withstand an opponent with such fine equipment for long.

【An unexpected move emerges.】

Feigning another aggressive charge, Kraft shifted his steps closer to the wall; their two swords clashed briefly, and he discovered the opponent was not using their full strength, seemingly holding back to prepare some small trick.

This suited his intent perfectly; the blade touched and retreated, sweeping toward the lantern on the wall. Whatever maneuver was attempted, it would be greatly diminished once vision was lost, but some people were exceptions.

And the opponent drew their sword too, thrusting toward an unanticipated direction.

【The lantern.】

The lantern, subjected to a pincer attack from two sides, along with the supporting bone, snapped; a structure that had endured years of overuse encountered a load it should not have borne, shattering and rolling down on the spot, the flame extinguished by a stomp.

The environment plunged completely into darkness; the swordsman stepped forward, thrusting based on the impression left by the light in the final moment.

Skill and wisdom, the only things surpassing brute force, were sources of pride for those diligent in practice and gifted by nature, regarded as the key to turning the tide; clearly, he believed darkness was a weapon that amplified the advantage of skill.

Kraft shifted his position to dodge, but was surprised to discover the opponent could actually identify footstep movements through hearing amidst the chaotic situation, changing their thrust into a slash to pursue.

Excellent sensory-motor coordination, combined with the courage to fight without vision, was indeed an extraordinary combat skill.

After being parried, the viper-like blade re-evaluated the position along the line of impact; the swordsman adjusted direction and slashed sideways toward Kraft's flank. It was hard to imagine what state of mind would lead someone to study such lightless combat techniques.

Without special training, relying solely on imagination to cope, even the most experienced person would likely find it difficult to navigate through the relentless attacks in the darkness.

Unfortunately, the reason Kraft extinguished the flame was completely different from theirs. Some people are no worse off blind than when they can see; others see more clearly after going blind.

After a series of continuous attacks, the swordsman's judgment of position in their mind finally became completely blurred; they stood still in the darkness, guarding against attacks that might come from any direction. And his companion, like Kup, lacked the skill to precisely locate targets using senses other than vision.

Kraft finally had time to examine the first normal opponent he had encountered; what his spiritual senses perceived was far more than the information gained from a hasty glance under poor lighting.

For instance, the sword's decoration was quite distinctive; the crossguard was circular, with wing-shaped extensions on both sides forming the handguard.

And the opponent's face, once seen clearly, felt somewhat familiar. After searching through memory, he successfully found a match from the day he first arrived in Dunling; they had met once in the courtyard of the Medical College, without even exchanging names, and he never expected their next meeting to be in such a place.

"The Inquisition? Why are you following me?"

(End of Chapter)