Sword Saint

1.

The world was dyed black.

This wasn’t a metaphor to express his inner feelings.

It was the cruel reality that had befallen Adrean, who had lost both eyes.

“I… I don’t know what to say…”

The priest, head bowed, mumbled, trailing off.

“Why? Is it so serious that it’s hard to say?”

“……”

“Tell me.”

He coaxed the priest, who was trying to remain silent with tightly pursed lips, with a gentle voice, demanding an answer.

After hesitating, the priest answered as if exhaling.

“That… yes…”

It was a short answer.

But that alone was enough.

The priest slowly raised his head.

A white-haired old man.

Two eyes burned black.

His eyelids were grotesquely melted.

His valiant right arm, which had firmly gripped his sword on the battlefield, was cut off, leaving only his shoulder, and his kind left arm, which had lifted fallen subordinates, was as pale as a corpse.

His body, cracked like an old tree, was covered in wounds to the point where he didn’t know where to start or how to heal them.

To be honest.

He looked more gruesome than an undead risen from the grave.

“The treatment?”

Adrean asked calmly.

“……”

The priest was silent again.

It was his role to convey hope to the patient, but he couldn’t bring himself to convey hope in the face of this miserable sight.

Lying here would be even more despairing.

There was no hope.

The external wounds weren’t the only problem.

If it was just external wounds, they could be healed easily.

Even if an arm was cut off, Divinity could reattach it.

The problem was the Curse that had spread throughout Adrean’s body.

Ominous Magical power was wrapped around Adrean in a complex network like blood vessels.

“I’ll go see the Saintess for a moment.”

Adrean got up from the bed.

-Thud!

However, the moment he placed his foot on the floor to get out of bed, his legs gave way, and he collapsed forward.

“Swordmaster!”

The priest was startled and supported Adrean, laying him back on the bed.

“Heh heh… I’ve shown you an unsightly sight.”

At Adrean’s awkward smile, the priest bit his lower lip.

And.

The knights who had entered the sickroom held their breath at the Swordmaster’s pathetic appearance, swallowing their sorrow.

Swordmaster.

Adrean Van Reiker.

The hero’s teacher.

He, hailed as the empire’s hero, had sacrificed himself a few days ago in the Battle of Black Sand to save the hero who was in danger.

He took the full force of the Demon King’s magic.

He absorbed all the magic to prevent it from spreading on a large scale.

The result was what they saw now.

Miraculously alive, but in a state akin to death.

“Hoo…”

Adrean exhaled a long sigh, releasing the smile he had been holding back.

“Ahem… why are you all hiding and crying?”

He had known from the beginning.

“Anyone would think it’s a funeral.”

Even if he couldn’t see, he could feel it with Magical power.

The Magical power of his comrades who had shared joys and sorrows for many years.

The Magical power of the knights who always loyally supported him.

And.

The Magical power of the hero who followed Adrean like a father.

“Louis!”

Adrean looked in the direction where he felt the Magical power of the hero, Louis, and said in an angry voice.

“Don’t cry. You’re making me feel embarrassed with your sadness.”

“I’m… sob… I’m sorry.”

“Ahem, I told you not to cry.”

The young hero, not even an adult, couldn’t stop his tears.

His teacher had become like this trying to protect him.

He blamed himself, and his inadequacy was so frustrating.

If he had trained harder…!

Nothing would have changed.

The Demon King’s power was more powerful than he could imagine.

And in that situation, only the Swordmaster could stop that magic.

He was able to protect the hero and save the lives of hundreds of knights because he blocked it with his body.

“I’m not dying. I’m fine.”

He tried to raise his right arm to show that he was alright, but belatedly realized that his right arm had been cut off.

“Oops, I still thought I had my right arm.”

Adrean laughed heartily.

It was a cheerful joke to ease the atmosphere.

Rather, it made the atmosphere even more damp.

Sobbing filled the sickroom.

Adrean wore a bitter smile.

…It hurts.

He was acting as if he was fine to everyone, but pain as if his heart was being beaten with a club and his insides were being churned with a saw was mixing inside his body.

He was enduring with willpower alone.

He couldn’t close his eyes yet.

He still had a lot to teach the hero.

And, there were still many enemies to defeat.

“Swordmaster…”

The Saintess entered as the sickroom door opened.

“It’s been a while, Saintess.”

Adrean greeted the Saintess with a bright smile.

“Could you check on my condition? I can’t see now, so I don’t know what I look like, ha ha!”

He threw out a self-deprecating joke, but the atmosphere was cold.

A warm touch like the spring sunshine landed on his chest.

The Saintess’s Divinity seeped into his body.

Hot heat mixed with his blood and spread throughout his body.

But that was only for a moment.

The heat cooled and disappeared in less than a few seconds.

“…………I’m sorry.”

The Saintess took her hand away and said in a voice that sounded like she was about to cry.

That was explanation enough.

There was no way he wouldn’t know his own condition in the first place.

Adrean knew his condition better than anyone else.

That treatment was impossible, too.

He had hoped for a small miracle, but…

As a result, he had reality confirmed once more through the Saintess’s mouth.

“Ahem, I see.”

“Swordmaster…”

“Call me by my name. I am no longer a Swordmaster. How can someone who cannot wield a sword be called a Swordmaster?”

Oops.

Adrean realized he had made a mistake.

He had added sorrow to sorrow.

But since the water had already been spilled, Adrean decided to settle everything here.

“I must step down now… everyone, listen.”

He sighed deeply and continued.

“I recommend the 10th Knight Commander for the Swordmaster position. That friend’s swordsmanship is quite excellent. I’m sorry to you all. But wouldn’t it be better to entrust the new era to young blood rather than old folks like us?”

He turned his head towards his comrades who had been together for many years.

There was no opposition.

“Louis.”

“Yesh…!”

A sobbing voice.

He couldn’t calm his sadness.

He felt sorry for his young disciple, but he had to say what he had to say.

“My sword is now yours. It’s just an ordinary iron sword compared to that Holy sword, but I’d appreciate it if you would take care of it.”

“Master… I…!”

“Please.”

“Hic… yes… yesh…!”

What else was left?

The next Chief of the Imperial Army General Staff would be decided by the Emperor, and the wealth in the vault would be donated to orphanages throughout the empire.

There was nothing else to sort out.

“Stop wasting time here, everyone, and go do your work. You’re all busy people. You can’t be lazy in this gloomy sickroom.”

Adrean yawned nonchalantly.

“I’m going to take a nap, so come again next time.”

He tried to wave his hand, but he realized he couldn’t use his hand and chuckled.

“…Thank you all.”

He whispered his thanks to the people leaving the sickroom with heavy steps.

It was a greeting with many meanings.

Thanks for visiting.

Thanks for being with him until today.

This was.

A grateful farewell.

“Adrean…”

The Saintess covered him with a blanket.

“Please rest in peace now.”

She would know.

That the flame of life had already been extinguished.

That Adrean was miraculously prolonging his life.

And.

That this was the hero’s last appearance.

Adrean smiled kindly.

A quiet sickroom.

He chuckled and slowly relaxed his body.

“…You’re not listening.”

Magical power felt in front of the sickroom.

Everyone couldn’t take their feet off the ground and were sobbing in the hallway.

“I need to leave quickly…”

It was a life without a single shame.

Born as the son of a serf, he became a knight and dedicated everything to peace.

He had won hundreds of battles.

He had always faced the Demon King’s army at the forefront.

He had accumulated achievements and gained both wealth and fame.

But it was a pity.

He wanted to defeat the Demon King.

He wasn’t a hero chosen by God, but he wanted to stab his sword into the heart of that guy who had destroyed his hometown.

It was no exaggeration to say that he lived for that.

But the result of those decades was such futility.

He had cut off one of the Demon King’s horns, but the Demon King was still alive, so he had not achieved his dream.

“Sigh…”

He inhaled.

His body became languid.

The tightly drawn mental string was loosened.

70 years of life flashed by like a lantern.

A wonderful but regrettable life.

He would be able to defeat the Demon King next time.

Unable to let go of his regrets, the Swordmaster watched as the flame of life was completely extinguished.

A small spark remaining in the blackened firewood.

It rode a wisp of smoke and flew up into the sky, disappearing.

This was the end of the Swordmaster, Adrean.

2.

His eyes opened.

His mind was hazy, as if he had woken up from a brief nap.

The blurry vision, as if he were underwater, was blown away by the cool wind blowing from the east, gradually becoming clearer.

A hill where white daisies were in full bloom.

Clouds shaped like fish were swimming in the blue sky.

I staggered to my feet under the shade of a large tree.

“Where is this…?”

Is it heaven?

It was quiet and peaceful.

I came out of the shade of the tree and looked around.

The wind greeted me.

Golden hair fluttered gently.

“…Huh?”

I tilted my head, feeling something was wrong.

Then, long hair rustled and flowed over my cheek.

The color was a beautiful gold, as if it was full of sunlight.

I rubbed my hair with my fingers.

A soft touch.

It was different from my hair, which had become stiff over the years.

“What? Huh?”

I felt a strong sense of incongruity in my voice.

A cute voice like a young girl came out of my throat.

I blinked my eyes for a long time, trying to figure out the situation.

“Elia!”

A girl in a nun’s habit waved at me from the bottom of the hill and ran towards me.

“Elia?”

I turned my head quickly.

There was no one around me.

The girl who was running up the hill stopped in front of me.

“Really! Were you taking a nap here again?”

I blinked my eyes at the girl.

What is she talking about?

I don’t know why she’s telling me this.

“Are you still half asleep?”

“Uh, uh? Wait a minute, who are you talking to right now?”

“I’m talking to you. By the way, why are you talking like that? You sound like Grandfather.”

I am Grandfather.

I’m a white-haired old man who has lived for over 70 years.

“Wake up and let’s go down quickly. It’s almost time for worship.”

“Worship?”

“Hurry, hurry!”

“Uh, uh?”

The girl grabbed my hand and started running down the hill.

There was a shabby cathedral at the bottom of the hill.

I was dragged into the cathedral by the girl.

The inside was clean, and the nuns were preparing for worship in the chapel.

“Elia!”

A middle-aged nun with an angry face stood in front of me.

“You ran away again without cleaning!”

“Me? Me?”

“Then who else would I be talking to?”

I looked around.

Some of the young nuns were giggling as they looked this way.

The girl next to me sighed and rubbed her forehead.

Then, a mirror hanging on one side of the wall caught my eye.

In it, a blonde girl blinking her eyes stupidly was making eye contact with me.