The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

Chapter 122 A Sword and the Domain

The room was alive with the charged tension of unspoken anticipation. Every gaze was locked on Klaus and Caidon as the air grew heavy with the unyielding promise of combat. The nobles, drunk on the prospect of a duel, stepped back to create a wide circle, giving the two combatants ample room.

Caidon's smirk deepened as he unsheathed his blade—a wickedly curved weapon with an edge that gleamed under the chandelier's light. The rogue swordsman moved with a predator's grace, his stance deceptively casual, but Klaus could see the subtle readiness in his posture.

"This won't take long," Caidon drawled, his voice loud enough to carry to the surrounding crowd. "You've bitten off more than you can chew, boy."

Klaus said nothing. He reached for the hilt of his own sword, his movements calm and deliberate. The weapon, unadorned but perfectly balanced, slid free of its scabbard with a soft whisper. The polished steel glinted, catching the eyes of the spectators, but it was Klaus himself who commanded their full attention.

His silver hair shimmered under the golden light, and his blue eyes, sharp as a blade's edge, seemed to pierce straight through Caidon. To the onlookers, he was an image of composed elegance, but beneath his calm facade, Klaus's irritation simmered.

He raised his sword, the tip angling toward Caidon in a flawless stance. "Let's end this quickly," he said, his tone devoid of arrogance, yet cold enough to send a chill through the room.

Caidon's grin twisted into a sneer. "Cocky little brat. Let's see how long that confidence lasts."

The rogue swordsman moved first, lunging forward with blistering speed. His blade slashed toward Klaus's midsection in a calculated arc, aimed to test the younger swordsman's reflexes.

Klaus sidestepped with ease, the movement so fluid it looked effortless. Caidon's blade whistled past him, cutting through the air as Klaus countered with a precise thrust aimed at Caidon's shoulder.

The rogue twisted away just in time, his grin faltering as Klaus's blade nicked the fabric of his coat. "Fast," Caidon muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Too fast."

The duel escalated.

Caidon struck again, his blade a blur as it rained down a series of powerful slashes. Each swing was precise and brutal, designed to overwhelm his opponent. But Klaus met him blow for blow, his movements eerily calm and efficient.

The crowd watched in awe as their blades clashed, sparks flying with every impact. Caidon fought like a seasoned warrior, and his strength and experience were evident in every strike. Yet Klaus moved with a precision that seemed almost unnatural for his age.

Each time Caidon pressed the attack, Klaus deflected with minimal effort, his counters growing sharper and more punishing. The clash of steel echoed through the hall, a brutal symphony that left the spectators breathless.

"You're holding back," Klaus said, his voice low but cutting.

Caidon's eyes flickered with annoyance. "And you're not human."

The rogue adjusted his grip and surged forward again, his blade arcing in a feint toward Klaus's right before twisting mid-air to slash at his left. It was a trick designed to catch opponents off guard, but Klaus didn't fall for it.

He parried with such force that Caidon staggered back, his footing faltering. Seizing the opportunity, Klaus closed the distance with blinding speed, his sword cutting through the air in a horizontal slash aimed at Caidon's chest.

The rogue barely managed to block, the impact of the strike sending vibrations up his arm. His smirk was gone now, replaced by a grim expression as he realized the extent of Klaus's skill.

The crowd was silent, their eyes wide as they witnessed the exchange.

Caidon pushed back, creating distance as he took a moment to catch his breath. "You've been trained well," he admitted, his voice tight.

Klaus tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Trained? No. This is what happens when you're forced to survive."

The words were chilling in their simplicity, and they struck a nerve in Caidon.

What could a thirteen-year-old boy know about survival? This is what Caidon thought, taking it as if Klaus was mocking him.

With a growl, the rogue swordsman charged again, his strikes more ferocious and desperate. But Klaus was relentless. He didn't just block and counter; he dismantled Caidon's attacks with ruthless efficiency.

Every move Klaus made was calculated, each strike designed to exploit a weakness. His blade was a blur, a deadly extension of his will that forced Caidon further and further onto the defensive.

The crowd began to murmur, their awe growing with every exchange.

"Is this really a child?" one noble whispered.

"He's toying with him," another said, their voice tinged with disbelief.

Klaus's irritation was burning brighter now, not because of Caidon's attacks but because of the audacity of the situation. His lack of sleep, the nightmares, the ceaseless scrutiny—it all coalesced into a single, focused anger that sharpened his resolve.

He stepped forward, his blade slashing downward with such force that Caidon was forced to drop to one knee to block. The impact drove the rogue back several feet, his boots skidding across the polished floor.

Klaus followed, his movements seamless as he pressed the attack. His strikes came faster now, each one carrying the weight of his frustration. Caidon grunted as he struggled to keep up, his defense weakening under the onslaught.

"Is this the best you can do?" Klaus asked, his tone devoid of emotion but cutting like a blade.

Caidon's jaw tightened, his pride taking a hit. "Don't get cocky, boy."

But it was clear to everyone in the room that Caidon was losing. His movements were slowing, his breathing growing heavier. Klaus, on the other hand, remained composed, his strikes as precise and punishing as ever.

Finally, Caidon stumbled, his sword arm dropping slightly as exhaustion began to take its toll.

Klaus saw the opening and moved in, his blade poised to end the duel. But just as he was about to strike, a shift in the air stopped him.

Caidon's eyes glinted with determination, and his lips curled into a smirk.

Continue your journey with empire

"Enough games," he said, his voice low but resonating with power.

The rogue swordsman thrust his blade into the ground, and a surge of energy erupted from him. The air around them shimmered, and an oppressive aura filled the room.

Klaus's eyes narrowed as he felt the shift.

Caidon's surroundings began to change, the polished floor giving way to a distorted, shadowy terrain. The radius was small, no more than a few meters, but it was unmistakable.

The crowd gasped as they realized what was happening.

"A sword domain…" someone whispered, their voice tinged with awe and fear.

Klaus's grip on his blade tightened as he stepped back, his blue eyes gleaming with cold light. A faint smile curled his lips, dark and predatory.

"So, you've finally decided to take this seriously," Klaus said, his voice calm but carrying a deadly edge.

Caidon's smirk widened as his domain solidified, the air around them heavy with his intent to kill. "Let's see how you handle this, boy."

And so, the stage was set, the tension in the room palpable as two swordsmen prepared to face each other in a clash that would determine more than just skill.