Ch.204Sword Saint Society (1)

“To be precise, it would be 21 years and 117 days.”

Valterok didn’t respond to the Sword Saint’s correction. Instead, he simply stood silently, somehow already holding a lance and longsword in each hand.

As silence fell, the giant scratched his chin with an uncomfortable expression, and Luwellin found himself muttering while watching him.

“Sword Saint…”

It was a familiar name and face to Luwellin.

No, in fact, that appearance and name were widely known throughout the continent.

Born a giant, he became the “Giant” of the North by utilizing his innate talents and physique.

Though he had lived for 200 years, he remained robust, and in the Empire, they avoided battlefields where he appeared, viewing him as a calamity.

Luwellin was frozen, never having thought he would actually see the Sword Saint in person.

If there was any consolation, it was that the Sword Saint had revealed himself precisely when Valterok was about to take action.

Luwellin squinted his eyes inside his helmet and thought.

Is he an enemy?

Normally, one wouldn’t dawdle in front of an enemy, but the Sword Saint might be an exception.

Luwellin recalled the Sword Saint’s peculiarities that he had learned through world-building explanations and various materials.

“Well, I should compensate for being impolite to the one who’s become my master. Let’s see…”

He spoke familiarly, without any reservation. Despite the circumstances warranting caution, the man’s attitude showed no such quality.

It was like a reaction devoid of fear. Nevertheless, the giant smiled innocently with an expressive face.

“Do you like swords?”

It was an abrupt question. It was difficult to guess who he was addressing, so no response came.

But Luwellin knew the giant’s eyes were fixed on him.

“…How did you know I was the master?”

“Well, you know. Just by looking?”

The grinning giant. His extended sword was steadily blocking his disciple’s strike, while his other hand was rubbing his chin with its patchy beard.

It was a casualness that didn’t match his transcendent appearance. Luwellin felt his tension loosening but deliberately maintained his guard.

If that man was an enemy, the chances of surviving a fight here weren’t great.

Valterok had already reached level 20, and Luwellin had even fought a level 20 bloodkin, albeit a weakened one.

But since that didn’t guarantee an absolute victory, Luwellin remained cautious of the Sword Saint while saying:

“I do like swords. But since it’s going to be a gift, I’d prefer something pretty.”

“Oh ho, planning to give it to someone you care about, I see. Good. As it happens, I have a pretty one right here.”

Luwellin felt Melody flinch in his arms, but he didn’t show it.

I was going to give it to my sister. Saying I wasn’t going to give it to you would just be spiteful.

“Here you go.”

The weapon he flung landed precisely at Luwellin’s feet.

And only after it landed did he recognize it.

“…Didn’t you say it was a sword?”

It was a spear.

It had a long handle, and its blade could be used for cutting too, but…

No matter how you looked at it, it wasn’t something you’d call a sword. Luwellin stared in disbelief, and the giant laughed.

“If you use it as a sword, then it’s a sword.”

It was hard to argue with the Sword Saint’s words. As Luwellin frowned, he caught the young girl’s sharp voice.

“Teacher, this is clearly a spear no matter how you look at it. Don’t be stubborn.”

Luwellin was startled by this.

He hadn’t expected anyone in the world to talk back to the Sword Saint.

Sure enough, the girl showed her irritation, flapping her ears.

“And… my emotions are entirely my own. It’s not for you to judge my manners, Master.”

Her point-by-point argument was reasonable. Implicitly, she was saying not to interfere with her revenge, which even Luwellin, who wasn’t particularly perceptive, could understand.

But the giant didn’t seem to mind.

“We’re meeting for the first time, so you should show some manners. Isn’t courtesy important?”

Setting aside the fact that it was the Sword Saint speaking in such a casual tone, it was a valid point.

The problem was that the speaker was the Sword Saint.

Born in the North 200 years ago, even before becoming the Sword Saint, he had jumped into all kinds of battlefields regardless of reason, cutting down enemy commanders, armies, and crises.

Among them was the previous Sword Saint.

And from the moment he cut down the Sword Saint, the giant was called the Sword Saint.

It was incredibly jarring to hear someone who had cut down “enemies” on any battlefield, ignoring good and evil and greater causes, talk about manners.

But since the other party was the Sword Saint, it was awkward to argue. Even Valterok remained quiet, but not the girl.

The dog beastkin called Maya bared her teeth and growled.

“Teacher’s sense of manners is far removed from common sense. Enough of this, please don’t interfere with my revenge.”

Her words were articulate but sharp with the growl mixed in. The Sword Saint seemed embarrassed, smacking his lips, and withdrew his extended sword without warning.

Free from interference, the blade didn’t immediately shoot forward. The girl readjusted her stance and glared at Luwellin.

Or more precisely, at Melody in his arms.

Luwellin felt that gaze and quietly lowered Melody.

As soon as he did, he stepped forward, but Melody stopped him.

“…Maya, it’s been a while.”

The blind girl stepped forward, restraining Luwellin.

Maya glared at Melody, who had lost her wings and eyes, with eyes like a lightless swamp.

“Yes, it has been. First time since you destroyed the Dueling School.”

What kind of relationship they had, how they knew each other.

There was no need to ask. The girl naturally spoke as if trying to prove who she was and that her revenge was justified.

“Since then, I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this.”

She was clearly a duelist. Luwellin felt the magical energy floating around the girl’s body and was certain.

“…That was a righteous act.”

For Melody, the incident with the Dueling School was both a disgrace and her destiny.

It was a path she had to traverse, a revenge she had to exact.

She didn’t regret it.

Melody, with her eyes still closed, faced the smaller girl with dignity.

“Even if I could turn back time, I would do exactly the same.”

“I’m sure you would.”

The girl growled again, raising her heavy greatsword.

Melody drew her estoc from her waist with a bitter expression in response to the girl’s presence.

Luwellin was watching this scene when—

Swish! At the short sound, he looked up.

The two girls had distanced themselves, and someone had fallen between them, blocking their path.

There was no thunderous noise. But it was clear that it would have been better if there had been one.

At least for Arba, it would have been.

“Annihilation…!”

The fluttering black hair settled, and Lucilla pulled the spear embedded in the ground with a reverse grip and twirled it in her hand.

A powerful presence unlike her quiet positioning. As Valterok stood beside her, she glared at the Sword Saint with eyes whose whites had turned black.

Three people who would definitely be named among the five strongest on the continent were in one place.

It was a space with too much killing power for ordinary people. Even Arba was sweating.

As the dust that had spread outward gradually settled, Luwellin’s allies revealed themselves one by one.

Isla aiming her bow from atop a tree.

Lorian approaching from beneath Isla, drawing his execution sword.

The Mourner revealing himself through the trees, limping.

Eshatherna who had appeared beside Lucilla, and Rie Hezedia approaching from afar.

And that wasn’t all—there was a shadow approaching from the horizon of the forest.

Former Inquisitors, remnants of Servan, and Black Knights.

It was a lineup that even the Sword Saint should be tense about, but he showed no sign of tension.

Rather, he scratched his chin and glanced behind him.

As the swirling dust behind him cleared, a group of people approached.

They were diverse.

There were beastkin, elves, ordinary humans, people in imperial attire, and even those who looked like typical northern barbarian warriors.

But they had only one thing in common.

The swords at their waists or on their backs. Valterok made a low clicking sound with his tongue.

It was a sound meant to be heard. A sound he deliberately made despite having no tongue.

Luwellin recognized what Valterok wanted to say and gritted his teeth.

“The Sword Society.”

The smallest yet most renowned group in the North.

Those who followed the Sword Saint and emulated his sword, seeking the ultimate in martial arts.

They were right in front of them.

In the game, all of them were at least level 15. Most were 20.

If they clashed, the damage would be substantial.

Luwellin thought.

‘We have the advantage in numbers, but they overwhelmingly surpass us in quality.’

It was an obvious conclusion, assuming they were all level 20 and considering they had learned the same swordsmanship as the Sword Saint.

Moreover, since it was the same swordsmanship, their synergy would be far superior to Luwellin’s side.

Luwellin looked at each one, thinking about their chances of victory, and after his gaze touched each of the Sword Society’s sword masters, he gradually became puzzled.

None of them had drawn their swords.

Of course, as sword masters of the Sword Society, they could probably draw incredibly fast, but it was surprising that they hadn’t drawn at all.

Among them, a dog beastkin with his hair tied in a single strand looked at Luwellin, smiled brightly, and waved, to which Luwellin nodded in confusion.

No one showed hostility. Most faces were expressionless, but some even smiled or greeted with goodwill.

Was it the Sword Saint’s influence?

Luwellin tensed, recalling stories of how the Sword Saint would enter battlefields, offer polite greetings, and then behead imperial generals after combat.

“…Hmm, the atmosphere doesn’t seem very welcoming.”

Luwellin paused at the Sword Saint’s words.

Looking at him quizzically, their eyes met. Not piercing eyes that could penetrate his helmet and see inside, but innocent eyes.

Eyes that briefly reminded him of Huey. As Luwellin frowned—

“I feel like there’s a misunderstanding.”

Misunderstanding.

Luwellin remained silent for a moment, then unconsciously turned his head.

His gaze was directed at the soldiers who had been escorted back by the troops that had already followed.

“There are injured people, and you call it a misunderstanding?”

It was Lucilla who voiced what Luwellin was thinking.

His sister perceptively expressed what her brother wanted to say, and the Sword Saint looked at her intently.

“Well, people get hurt in life, don’t they? As long as they didn’t die, it’s fine.”

Their way of thinking was different. As if getting hurt was a natural thing.

The Sword Saint even laughed as if they were overreacting.

“Besides, weren’t you about to take revenge? When you try to get revenge, there are always those who get in the way. Isn’t it rational enough that they weren’t cut down and killed?”

“You still have that insane way of thinking.”

Valterok finally spoke. As if disgusted, he shuddered.

The Sword Saint tilted his head in confusion, and Luwellin looked at the giant who was a head taller than himself and spoke.

“What are you here for? If you’re here to fight, I’m not interested…”

“Are you the star that rose that day?”

Luwellin stiffens at the sudden question.

It was probably referring to Luwellin’s divine nature.

The aftermath of that day was noticed by Lucilla and Melody, and it was also the reason Valterok had sought out Luwellin.

It wasn’t surprising. The problem was not knowing what he wanted.

“I don’t know why you misunderstood, but we came to at least say hello.”

Luwellin, who had been considering whether to deny it, blinked blankly at the words that followed.

“I’m getting tired of living in a cold place.”

“…Wait, are you…”

The giant born in the North who became a monster in the world, who had killed countless humans and monsters over 200 years.

The powerful being whose reputation was exalted throughout the continent, the Sword Saint, said:

“I’m thinking of moving to this area. Are you accepting people?”

He said he was moving in.