TRAIGS (Novel) Chapter 327

N/T: Translation made by our friend 'Irving'. A big round of applause for him :)

C 327

 The third Prince halted the sword he had been about to swing, smoothly stopping it in its tracks.

"It's dangerous..."

There wasn't a precise reason, just a feeling. After seeing the clear black depths of Martha's eyes, he swiftly retreated, trusting the shiver that had crept over him.


The moment he stepped back, Martha's sword descended like a lightning bolt. The training ground floor shattered like a biscuit being smashed by a fist. If he had tried to block it head-on, the impact would have crushed his shoulders with its force.


The third Prince exhaled heavily, raising his head. Martha's pupils had turned red again.

"What's happening?"

Certainly, she was supposed to go berserk, wasn't she?

The berserk skill used by the warriors of the Cyan Gorge granted a surge in physical ability and aura, nearly 1.5 to 2 times the norm, in exchange for losing rationality and attacking only the enemies in front of them. It was a brutal technique that abandoned all reason for instinctual movement, yet Martha had evidently retained her senses.

"Who is this woman...?"

Martha had assumed that using the berserk skill would quickly end the situation, but she hadn't anticipated ending up in this position.


Martha stomped forward, charging. Her movements reduced the distance in the blink of an eye. Her speed had already exceeded human limits.


The third Prince twisted his longsword to deflect Martha's descending strike.

"It's heavy."

Despite successfully diverting it, the pain of bones splintering still seared through him. It was a devastating blow, reminiscent of a finishing strike, but her assault wasn't over.


Martha rebounded her lowered sword like a rubber band, launching a second attack. Her movements were undeniably beast-like.

"I can't simply let this pass."

Her change in direction was so swift that he had no choice but to block it head-on. To withstand it, he gritted his teeth and summoned his aura.


The third Prince bore the brunt of the attack. It wasn't a sword but rather a hammer-like impact that struck him, causing his entire body to tremble and his head to spin.

"But this is as far as it goes."

Facing the frontal assault, Martha's sword had halted. Now, it was his turn.


He raised his sword, thrusting it forward. The strike carried a malevolent intent, directed towards Martha's left shoulder.


Martha raised her sword to parry the blow aimed at her shoulder.

"She's caught."

The strike had targeted her shoulder, but it was a feint. After luring Martha's attention with a false attack, he aimed for her right chest with a full-force blow. It was a technique that capitalized on the berserk state, which forced Martha to leave herself vulnerable.

"I've won... Ah!"

In that moment of certainty, Martha's sword deflected the blow with a sweeping arc.


The third Prince opened his eyes. Martha's pupils had turned black once again. A sharp intelligence gleamed in her gaze.

"It wasn't a coincidence, was it?"

Using over twice the berserk state while maintaining her sanity—this was unheard of. A monster like this was something he had never heard of or witnessed before.


Martha's pupils turned red once more, and her aura surged.

"Is Zieghart all like this?"

Raon was now perched in a place almost unreachable, and Martha, whom he had thought to be similar, had fully embraced techniques from a different faction as her own.

It seemed that only monsters resided within Zieghart.

"But I still have to endure."

The drawback of the berserk state wasn't solely the loss of reason. As you wielded more potent power, your stamina and aura depleted over twice as fast. If he could persevere, victory would undoubtedly be within reach.

"I can't lose. Never!"

After all, this was the Owen Kingdom.

More than half of the spectators are Owen's citizens. He couldn't afford to fall disgracefully before his people.


The third Prince lowered his stance and adjusted his grip on the sword. His pupils gleamed sharply.

"Even if I have to use that sword technique..."

Martha bit her tongue hard enough for blood to trickle.

"2.5 times is indeed not easy."

While she had grown accustomed to maintaining her sanity during the berserk state, which amplified her physical abilities and aura by 1.5 times, achieving 2.5 times was far from simple.

The sensation of a beast digging into her mind. She felt that even the slightest relaxation could lead to her instincts taking over.

"I can't regain my focus."

Honestly, she had never expected to use the berserk state at 2.5 times. The warriors of the Cyan Gorge typically only used it at a maximum of 2 times.

The concept of a berserk state at 2 times was shattered by one lunatic.

"Raon Zieghart."

Thanks to that lunatic who claimed there was no way the berserk state could have a limit of 2 times and used humans as experimental subjects, she was able to reach the level of 2.5 times.

"He gave me enlightenment, after all."

Originally, using the berserk state at 2.5 times would have been impossible while maintaining her sanity. But this time, she had gained some insight, allowing her to hold onto her rationality, albeit slightly.

"That's why I have to win."

Even if it's for that foolish guy.

For the sake of Raon, who had helped her grow during her critical time, she couldn't afford to lose this duel, no matter what.


Martha pounded the ground with all her might. Her vision narrowed as the third Prince's figure drew closer.

While maintaining her sanity, she executed the technique "Golden Ore Strike," slashing her refined blade through the air with precision.


The third Prince performed the "Bo Law" while twisting his sword to parry the strike. It was a stance used to deflect the attack.

"I can't keep enduring this."

Focusing her mind, Martha twisted the trajectory of her "Golden Ore Strike." The strike that had been descending in a straight line now veered diagonally, targeting a gap in the third Prince's defense.


Amidst this, the third Prince altered his sword's position, minimizing the impact.


Martha gripped her sword tightly, once again unleashing the "Golden Ore Strike." Her stamina, aura, and mental fortitude were at their limits. She had to bring this battle to an end, no matter what, while holding on with sheer determination.


Thankfully, the third Prince wasn't in optimal condition either. He executed his sword technique with just his upper body, unable to move his legs.


Sword clashed against sword, and sparks of fire erupted, engulfing the training ground.

Amidst this, the third Prince launched a strike aimed at the opening in Martha's "Golden Ore Strike," reducing the impact. He was an obstinate one, enduring to such an extent that it gave one goosebumps.


The third Prince's expression remained composed, but his wobbling legs and arms couldn't be concealed.

"This is the end..."

Martha took a deep breath, pulling all of Titan's aura. Without leaving a single drop of aura behind, she unleashed the "White Torrent Soul," despite its lack of precision and balance due to her ravenous hunger.


In that moment, a blue flame flickered in the third Prince's eyes. Seeing those eyes, Martha's hair stood on end.


Using his previously staggering leg, the third Prince stepped forward and swung his sword. A blue current condensed within the sword's trajectory, and a powerful aura that surpassed the strike surged forth.

"Was that his aim?"

Even amidst the shock, it seemed that the third Prince had been waiting for the right moment to counterattack. An eerie aura, unlike anything she had felt before, emanated from his sword.

"But I'll press on!"

Now that they had come this far, tricks and tactics were meaningless. She was going to confront him head-on with all her mental and physical strength.


The formidable force of Martha's strike, combined with the third Prince's strike charged to the extreme, clashed.

Although their swordsmanship finesse had waned, their intensity remained as masterful as ever.


Unable to withstand the combined strength of Martha and the third Prince, their swords shattered from hilt to blade like fragile glass.


Fragments of the blade spiraled out as the shards scattered. In this dire situation with the blade wielded blindly, the actions of the two diverged.


The third Prince staggered back in surprise, while Martha thrust herself into the blade fragments.


Martha's foot stomped on a shard, not stopping even as her cheek, eyes, and ear were grazed by the fragments.

That single step.

In this perilous moment, that unwavering step determined the outcome of the day.


Martha's clenched fist struck the third Prince's solar plexus fiercely.


Unable to withstand the impact, the third Prince was flung from the training ground and slammed into the floor.


Martha slumped onto the training ground, trembling.

"I, I'm going to die...."

Her strength had drained away, and she couldn't even move a single finger. Excruciating pain surged through her from head to toe, yet strangely, she felt quite content.

Overwhelmed by fatigue and pain, she lay on her back. The sky, clear and serene, greeted her.

"Is this the view he witnessed?"

Raon never backed down and always moved forward, even in dangerous situations.

Even diving into the blade fragments was because of that foolish attitude of his.

"Yet I've received help again."

With a genuine smile that hadn't appeared in a long time, Martha exerted strength in her clenched fist.

"That's good."

It's the first time I've seen the Beef Girl smile like that.

Looking at Martha,p who was lying sprawled out on the ground, Wrath smiled.

"That's right."

Seeing Martha's trembling hand, Raon chuckled.

"It must feel refreshing."

Only those who have experienced it can understand. When one faces an unfavorable situation and uses everything they have to emerge victorious, there's no way they wouldn't feel good.

"That, that concludes the match outside Owen!"

The announcer's voice trembled as they raised their hand.

"In a fierce battle that ended with blood splattering, the winner has been determined! The expert-level of the Six Kings Assembly tournament winner is Martha Zieghart!"


The audience's cheers that had been held back burst forth like an explosion.

"Martha! Martha! Martha!"

"Martha! We had faith in you!"

"Who would have thought we'd be so captivated by an expert duel!"

"A swordsman like her was unknown until now? What on earth has Zieghart been up to?"

"Well done to both Martha and the third Prince! We're truly moved!"

The spectators applauded both Martha and the third Prince for their intense battle.

"However, erm..."

"Yes. It's, it's rather terrifying."

"Charging straight into the blades like that, is she even human?"

"Look at all the cuts on her face. No ordinary person could do that."

However, quite a number of spectators shivered as they watched Martha plunge her fist into the shards between the broken blades.

"My-my cheek..."

"Cheek? Cheeky girl? Suits you right, doesn't it? It sticks to your character perfectly."

"She charged in headlong, her hair flying, it was frightening."

"How about 'Martha the Basher'? It fits her rather well!"

"Martha the Basher! Martha the Basher! Martha the Basher!"

Martha's nickname was established. Contrary to her wish for a cool name, it ended up as "Martha the Basher," a name imbued with fear and eeriness.

"To be honest, it was pretty scary."

Charging into the midst of blade fragments and throwing a punch barehanded was an action that even she herself had reservations about.

Martha didn't mind the cuts on her face and charged forward, throwing a punch, so she could understand why the spectators were frightened.

"Oh dear."

She turned at the sound of a soft voice.

Chamber, who had descended unnoticed, wrinkled her nose. She hovered in the air, beside Martha.

"Your lovely face is in a bit of a state."

Chamber inspected Martha's face and furrowed her eyebrows.

"I usually avoid bothersome things, and I also detest getting injuries on my gems."

As she gently swept her hand, light began to emanate from the remaining cuts on Martha's face. It seemed like an enhanced form of healing magic.

"Now, with a bit of ointment, you'll be good as new."

"T-Thank you."

"Make sure to enjoy yourself next time too. Both of you."

Chamber patted Martha's head and winked at Raon before floating back up to the stage.


Raon narrowed his eyes as he watched Chamber's departure.


The relationship between Balkar and Zieghart had been dreadful, and Chamber, a transcendent being from there, had an unpredictable personality. Raon hadn't anticipated her stepping up and offering treatment.


Martha took a deep breath as she descended from the training ground. She still disregarded her face, her expression slightly furrowed.

"Why do they keep calling me 'Martha the Basher'? Noisy bunch."

"Because you are 'Martha the Basher'."


"It's you."

Raon pointed his finger at Martha, just as he had explained to Burren before.

"Charging in like a madwoman with your hair flying everywhere was terrifying."

Uttering words the audience hadn't even used.

"Oh, for God's sake!"

Martha stomped her foot and approached the audience stands.

"Why am I 'Martha the Basher'! Instead of such a name, I asked for something cool or cute, you lot!"

"Wow! You're the embodiment of 'Martha the Basher'!"

"I've never seen a swordsman whose name suits them so well!"

"Since you dislike 'Martha the Basher,' how about 'Basher's Blade'?"

"That actually sounds better!"

"Basher's Blade! Basher's Blade! Basher's Blade!"

Inspired by Martha's actions, the audience continued to chant "Basher's Blade" with even more enthusiasm.

It's decided now. Her nickname is officially "Basher's Blade."

"Do you want me to beat you all up?"

Martha jumped into the audience seats without even composing herself.


"Oh, come on!"

"Guild Team leader!"

Only after Burren and the Light Wind squad members, including Burren, restrained her, were they able to finally calm her down.


She turned at the sound of a gasp. The third Prince, pinned to the ground, was blushing as he watched Martha's back.

"How beautiful..."

Raon closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.

"He's truly out of the ordinary..."

*   *   *

After a brief interval during which the ruined arena ground was repaired by Martha and the third Prince, the announcer stepped forward again.

"You've waited a long time! Now, it's time for the grand finale of the Six Kings Assembly tournament, featuring master level duel!"


As the announcer raised his fist, a thunderous roar erupted from the audience seats.

"Raon! Raon! Raon!"

"We believe! The Frostfire Sword of Valor!"

"Raon! Let's make history!"

"Blue Sword! You're the last one standing! Uphold the Twelve stars of continents' reputation!"

The audience members shouted their chosen contestants' names, wildly waving their hands. While before, Cardis's name as the Blue Sword had been more frequently called out, now the voices cheering for Raon grew louder.

"Shall we?"

Hearing the relentless cheers, Raon rose from his seat. As he was about to head to the arena, Garona appeared and blocked his path.


"I'm not your brother."

"I thought that in the finals, Cardis and I would meet again."

Ignoring Raon's response, Garona spoke only what she wanted to convey.

"Cardis considered himself a force whose victory was not assured. His swordsmanship becomes increasingly perilous over time, much like a river transforming into a sea. Be cautious."


Raon nodded.

"I am well aware."

He understood better than anyone the formidable and vexing nature of Robert's swordsmanship.

"You appear as confident as you did when facing me."

Garona patted his shoulder with her sizable hand.

"I'll await the sight of my brother standing at the pinnacle from the closest vantage point."

"So, not brothers...."

"Cheer up!"

"Not brothers...."

"I believe you!"


Once again, he didn't listen to the end of the conversation, only spoke his part and disappeared.

"That's a bulky fellow, always talking rubbish."

Wrath looked at Garona, sticking his tongue out as if expressing his pity.

After all, words should be weighty. Speaking carelessly often leads to unnecessary trouble. There's a saying in the Demon Realm that silence is golden...


It was quite absurd for a chatterbox like the Demon King to say such things.

"Really, there's no one properly composed."

Raon sighed and then headed towards the arena. Martha was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs.

"I did it."

With bandages wrapped around her face and body, Martha snorted and puffed out a breath. There was a lot of meaning compressed into that single statement.

"Now it's your turn."


Raon lightly smiled and brushed past her. More words weren't necessary. Not here. Not in this arena.

On the arena, Cardis Robert was already standing. Looking at his appearance so reminiscent of Derus, a cold anger boiled within Raon.

"I didn't expect the day to come when I'd stand on the same stage as the Frostfire Sword of Valor at the Six Kings Assembly final duel."

Cardis softly smiled and exchanged a gaze.

"Mocking, aren't you."

His words implied that he hadn't expected Raon to make it this far.

"Having met only strong opponents, I've been fortunate to make it to the finals as I grew."

Raon offered a smooth smile and gave a slight nod of his head. Though it sounded modest, it actually conveyed the meaning that he wasn't like Cardis, who had advanced through easy matches.


Cardis seemed to understand the underlying meaning and furrowed his brows slightly.

"Regardless of the outcome of the finals, Raon the swordsman, you'll undoubtedly secure a position among the Twelve stars of the Continents' elite. Congratulations."

"I have no intention of securing a place there."

Raon firmly shook his head.

"What? What do you mean..."

Cardis blinked in apparent confusion.

"I understand that the Twelve stars of the Continent is where candidates for the next transcendent beings are recognized. It's undoubtedly an impressive title, but I have no intention of stopping there."

While the title of being a part of the Twelve Stars of the Continent was an honour wherever he went, it wasn't where he wished to leave his mark.

"I see. Quite audacious, aren't you."

Cardis bit his lip slightly and narrowed his eyes. It was a facial expression full of irritation, much like a pufferfish with its poison puffed up.

"As it stands, I can't afford to lose. Under any circumstances."

As he unsheathed his sword, a clear yet immense energy surged out like waves.

"As the audience desires..."

Raon drew his Heavenly Drive Sword. Lightning arced from his red eyes in contrast to the silvery blade.

"I will carve a new history today."


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