Chapter 38: Sibling Fight (2)

“Honestly, I’m not confident.”

Regardless of his self-deprecating tone, Vigo’s fingers were already moving.

**[Spiderweb Weaving]**

Suddenly, a chilling edge of light scattered across the area where Sien stood.

*Slaaaash!*

The threads of death intertwined densely, tightening around Sien from all directions. It was the spider molt and webbing that symbolized the Pose of the Black Widow.

Similarly, Sien’s fingers moved.

“**[Clue of the Iron-Cutting Thread]**.”

Unlike the thin threads Vigo deployed, a thick, distinct steel wire that could be clearly identified with the naked eye swept through the air. It was like a blade woven from thread.

Immediately after, Sien kicked off the ground and closed the distance. In their close proximity, the spiderwebs connected densely between their ten fingers scattered in every direction.

It was like a snare meant to trap them both together.

‘Spiderweb Prison!’

The cobweb took a form that restricted the range of motion and movement of both brothers. Sien’s intention was clear.

‘He’s not trying to compete in the mastery of the stance, but rather pull the fight into a contest of agility at close range.’

At the same time, Vigo felt certain of one thing. No matter how much Sien was called the greatest genius in the family, he could not be Vigo’s match if they fought fairly using only the mastery of the Seventh Stance.

‘Right now, my level of mastery is higher.’

He had known this from the beginning. This was a fight that was unreasonably disadvantageous to Sien and advantageous to himself. And he also knew that unless he did this much, he could never defeat Sien.

‘Therefore, I absolutely cannot lose.’

At the very least, he did not want to concede when it came to the Pose of the Black Widow. No, he could not concede.

To be honest, he was too embarrassed to even speak the truth. That was why, when he became Mikhail’s godson and naturally learned the Seventh Stance, he felt relieved that he didn’t have to explain the “real reason he learned the Seventh Stance.”

It was because he had deliberately chosen the Seventh Stance—the one Sien seemed most unskilled in and least interested in—so that he wouldn’t be compared to his younger brother.

The distance between them closed until their breaths nearly touched. Even then, Sien’s spiderwebs were thoroughly restricting their actions and movements like a prison for two.

‘Should I break Sien’s web and widen the distance?’

He shook his head after thinking about it.

The spiderwebs deployed through the Pose of the Black Widow were not infinite to begin with. Furthermore, considering the amount of webbing Sien was currently spreading and the aura infused into them, Sien’s total power had to be significantly depleted.

In that state, with the distance closed, they both took the “cat’s cradle” position once again.

Their ten fingers, connected to the spider molts, moved as precisely as spider legs. The threads caught between their fingers were woven like bundles, forming the shape of a sharp blade.

**[Clue Needle]**

The clue needles held in their respective hands crossed. The blades bypassed each other and plunged toward Sien and Vigo.

*Slash!*

However, the needles woven in the brothers’ hands never touched their targets. Instead, as if threading the eye of the opponent’s needle to snatch it away, they were hooking or pulling at the “clues” that formed the needles.

At a glance, it looked no different from children playing a game of cat’s cradle.

Vigo’s thread caught the needle in Sien’s hand. As Vigo lightly manipulated the thread, Sien’s blade lost its shape and unraveled helplessly like a ball of yarn. He was skillfully interfering with his opponent’s weaving and undoing the form.

However, the clue needle in Vigo’s hand was different. It did not easily get caught in Sien’s webs, nor did it allow itself to be unraveled.

‘My spiderweb manipulation is much more proficient.’

Mastery of the Seventh Stance ultimately came down to how skillfully one could control the fibers of the spider molt. This was no exception even when two practitioners of the same stance clashed.

One had to unravel and snatch the threads the opponent controlled while protecting their own threads from being snatched. In the process of taking and losing threads, one would ultimately expand their own “spiderweb” to gradually swallow the opponent.

Destroying and seizing the opponent’s house through spiderwebs to expand one’s own…

The essence itself was similar to a game once called “Baduk” in the Eastern Continent where the progenitor, Kasan, had lived. It was a game played on a board with nineteen horizontal and vertical lines, where black and white stones were placed alternately to compete for territory.

On a large board, even the current Sien was no match for Vigo. That was why Sien had intentionally narrowed the distance and woven a web that encompassed them both, reducing the size of the board and limiting the number of possible moves.

‘He probably thought he had a chance at reading the moves on a narrowed board.’

But he was wrong. As he slowly devoured and suppressed Sien’s webs and expanded his territory, Vigo watched Sien being driven into a corner by the very web he had placed himself.

‘I can win.’

After that day eight years ago, Vigo had given up. After giving up, he hadn’t even dared to think about fighting the family’s greatest genius. He was a brother with talent so great he couldn’t even look up to it.

Now was the time to drive the final nail into the match.

“**[Collapsing the Ceiling]**.”

Lines connecting points in the air were spiderwebs. Expanding those lines by overlapping them countless times into a two-dimensional continuum—a plane—was a spider’s nest. Finally, it was one of the highest-level techniques that expanded that planar web into a polyhedron to strike a single blow.

“This is the end—”

“What are you two doing?”

It was then.

A voice came from behind Vigo’s back without even a hint of presence. It was a voice he was almost sickeningly familiar with.

At the same time, a new spiderweb mingled into the spot where Sien and Vigo were clashing. It passed through the web Sien had built up around them with ease, then penetrated and snatched every single web Vigo had built, unraveling them with absurdly high skill.

The fact that someone possessed such overwhelming skill meant only one thing.

Mikhail Nightwalker, the Master of the Seventh Stance and Vigo’s godfather, was there.

“Godfather Mikhail, what is the meaning of—”

“What do you mean ‘what’? I told you so many times to keep your head straight when you’re building a house.”

Mikhail flicked his finger as if he found it ridiculous.

“….. Ah.”

Immediately afterward, amidst the piles of Vigo’s threads that had been unraveled in all directions, a few strands of thread that felt uniquely out of place were visible.

They were clearly some of the threads that had formed Vigo’s web and had been acting as the axis of the intersection points. However, those spiderwebs did not belong to Vigo.

“There is no ‘mine’ or ‘yours’ in a spider’s nest.”

They belonged to Sien.

Vigo gasped as if he were at a loss for words at Mikhail’s statement.

“Could it be, from the very beginning…”

“You’re wrong.”

Sien shook his head at Vigo.

“Look again.”

As he spoke, Sien moved his fingers. The spider molt fibers connected to Sien’s fingers moved as if they were dancing.

‘They clearly moved, and yet — .’

He couldn’t feel the movement. He couldn’t see it even as he watched. That meant only one thing.

“The Pose of the Wraith…”

“I couldn’t possibly win using only the Seventh Stance,” Sien said with a bitter smile. “I used **[Water Moon]** from the First Stance on a few strands of thread and hid them in Big Brother Vigo’s web. Just in case.”

“I lost again.”

Vigo smiled bitterly after hearing those words. He self-deprecatingly thought that nothing had changed after all.

“What do you mean you lost?”

Mikhail spoke toward Vigo as if he were flabbergasted.

“You won.”

“Pardon?”

“The guy who cheated is the one who lost. Does that make him the winner?”

“Even so…”

“Then he should have fought using the First Stance from the very beginning.”

“He’s right, Big Brother Vigo.”

Sien also answered with a bitter smile.

“I lost.”

Of course, Vigo knew it meant nothing. From the start, this was a fight where Sien was at an unreasonable disadvantage while he had the advantage. Sien’s “loss” was merely a forced victory Vigo had grasped by finding fault with the rules.

“It’s your victory, Brother.”

Even so — .

“Of course, it’s still too early for you to become a Master of the Seventh Stance.”

“But I promise you.”

“What?”

Sien said, “You will become a Master before long. I guarantee it.”

“I see.”

The moment he heard those words, Vigo felt his heart become strangely refreshed. He felt so foolish that he wondered why he had been so anxious in front of Sien. All his agony now seemed ridiculously stupid.

He realized it anew.

Whether he passed the Confirmation Sacrament or not, nothing would change. It was the same for Sien and Mikhail.

Every person there was each other’s only family and their everything.

***

“War has broken out, war.”

A short while later, in the Duke’s office.

No sooner had Mikhail kissed the back of Laila’s hand than he spoke as calmly as if he were discussing someone else’s business.

“War? Has there ever been a time when there wasn’t a war on this continent?”

“Well, that’s true. But the scale of the scuffle today is a bit large.”

Mikhail continued indifferently.

“Everyone who needs to know will know within a few weeks. I hopped on a ship and rushed here as soon as I heard.”

He spoke as if a fire had broken out in a neighbor’s house.

“The leader of the Seven Kingdoms, King Arthur of the Round Table, plans to lead his knights and invade the Charlemagne Kingdom himself.”

The Knights of the Round Table—one of the three greatest knight organizations on the continent, whose strength was a subject of endless debate among gossips. With powerhouses of that caliber moving, the Charlemagne Kingdom would have no choice but to deploy their own supreme forces.

The Twelve Knights of Charlemagne.

“On what grounds are they starting such a war?”

Laila, the Head of the family sitting in her office chair, asked back as if surprised. Because this world was built on justifications, and nothing could be done without one.

“Ah, well. It’s a bit complicated. I’m not even sure if I remember it correctly.”

Mikhail scratched his head as he continued.

“What was it… There was some dispute between the Charlemagne Kingdom and the Seven Kingdoms regarding the export of wool…”

The “justification for war” that Mikhail explained continued for nearly thirty minutes.

“Well, because of that, the Seven Kingdoms used the support of the separatist faction within the County of Flanders as a justification to demand effective control and territorial annexation of that region…”

“Then the Duke of Burgundy in the Charlemagne Kingdom also defected to the Seven Kingdoms, so blah, blah, blah — “

From export bans and succession issues to territorial control, city autonomy, and demands for annexation into the kingdom.

This world was built on justifications. At the same time, justifications were ultimately nothing more than excuses.

“From the perspective of the Archipelago of Seven Kingdoms, it’s probably a golden opportunity to advance onto the continent.”

The reality of the justifications, plastered with all sorts of complex excuses and flowery language, was ultimately one thing.

Territorial expansion, conquest, and greed.

“Sien.”

“Yes, Lady Laila.”

“Issue a mobilization order to the family members I name, including **[The Laughing Man]**.”

“!”

Sien caught his breath at Laila’s words. Mikhail, who was rarely shaken, reacted similarly.

Wars were constant on this continent. A war breaking out every other day was nothing special.

Therefore, they couldn’t help but realize the weight of Johann Nightwalker—**[The Laughing Man]**—being summoned. He was the supreme power of the Nightwalker family, a powerhouse who stood at the pinnacle even among Highmasters.

Furthermore, they could see that the timing of the war was too coincidental.

Roselia Charles…

King Arthur of the Round Table, who stood shoulder to shoulder among the strongest on the continent, was personally moving with the ‘Knights of the Round Table,’ a group praised as one of the strongest knight organizations. The Charlemagne Kingdom would have no choice but to move their own supreme forces—the Twelve Knights (Paladins) and the Sword Saint Roland.

And that clash meant only one thing.

‘Please kill Sir Roland.’

“She must have known about this situation from the very beginning.”

It was just then.

“Oh, right. Now that I think about it, the Seven Kingdoms said they want to use our family as a credit line.”

Mikhail continued as if it were someone else’s business.

“They’re asking to borrow a fleet and some money so they can invade another country and play a game of territory grabbing.”

“War always costs money, after all.”

Similarly, the Charlemagne Kingdom would also borrow money to conduct the war against the Seven Kingdoms. It didn’t matter how high the interest rates were that they would have to pay to the Republic—the wealthiest nation on the continent renowned for its finance—and the Nightwalker family.

To the Republic and their family, this war was literally someone else’s business.

“A good testing ground will be prepared to measure our family’s wisdom.”

Laila smiled coldly, her back to the sunlight pouring in through the window.