Ch.94Transformation (2)

The sun had set and the night was deep.

The battle had gone on longer than expected. In the dimly lit forest, demon hunter Jerold breathed heavily. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and several scars marked his forearm as if slashed by blades.

From forearm to wrist. From wrist to the back of his hand. From there to his fingers, and from fingers to the sword hilt…

Blood flowed. Watching the blood trickle down, Jerold exhaled deeply. What a stubborn bastard. He never gives up his flesh easily. It’s as if he’s saying that if he has to give up his flesh, he must tear away a handful of his opponent’s flesh to be satisfied.

“Huff…”

Jerold caught his breath and glanced to the side.

There stood Klaus Aten. His clothes were also stained dark red with blood. He was bleeding. Jerold couldn’t quite understand the situation.

‘Wasn’t he a Sword Expert?’

Merely close to a Sword Seeker.

Hadn’t they said the target was a Sword Expert? But what Expert in the world could withstand two Seeker-level opponents? It was common sense that this was impossible.

“…”

Jerold looked ahead.

There stood Najin, breathing heavily with his sword lowered. He had lost far more blood than Jerold and Klaus. There was a hole in his side, and wounds covered his entire body.

If their injuries merely slowed their movements, his made movement itself difficult. At most, he might have one or two moves left.

The battle would end soon. The winners would obviously be them. But from Jerold’s perspective, it was an unsatisfying victory. Two Seeker-level fighters against one Expert, and they had to drag it out to win?

‘Damn it…’

He really didn’t want it to be like this.

If only it had been decided with the first attack. If only that young man had died before they crossed swords and learned what kind of person he was.

A filthy, ugly victory is no different from defeat.

Yet there was a reason they had to win. Jerold stomped the ground. He wanted to finish the young man with his own sword before he collapsed from blood loss. Fierce sword energy rose from Jerold’s blade.

This is the end.

Jerold closed the distance in an instant and swung his sword at Najin, who could barely stand. Until the moment Jerold swung his sword, Najin didn’t move. He must have run out of strength to even react. That’s what Jerold thought.

The great sword cut through the air.

In the moment before the great sword could bisect Najin’s body…

Najin’s hair fluttered in the rushing wind. Between the strands of his fluttering hair, Najin’s eyes were revealed. Meeting those eyes up close, Jerold inadvertently gasped.

Calm, sunset-colored eyes.

Unlike his mangled body, those eyes remained serene. The next moment, Najin moved. His lowered sword scattered afterimages as it moved. The speed was unbelievable for someone reacting so late. The lightning-fast sword strike hit Jerold’s great sword.

CLAAANG!

Sword energy collided with sword energy.

At the moment of collision, Jerold had no doubt of his victory. Until now, he had always had the advantage in sword energy collisions. Najin had been busy twisting his sword’s trajectory and avoiding. He thought this time would be the same, but…

SCREECH!

This time was different.

Fierce repulsive force. A repulsive force strong enough to make Jerold’s hand holding the hilt tremble. Jerold’s eyes widened. His face filled with shock.

Unable to overcome the repulsive force, Najin’s body was pushed far back, but he wasn’t the only one pushed back. Jerold’s great sword had been deflected in the opposite direction before completing its arc.

And the military boots that had stepped firmly on the ground.

Jerold looked at his own legs that had stepped back and opened his eyes wide. How? No, more than that, the sword energy that was shining just now was clearly…

Jerold Oton.

Klaus Aten.

They stared at Najin with wide eyes. Najin, pushed back some distance, caught his breath and slowly raised his head. A smile formed at the corners of his mouth.

“…I’ve got it.”

Najin muttered softly.

The answer that had been vaguely taking shape. The one step he had been missing. Finally, he had grasped it.

Crack.

A crumbling sound came from Najin’s sword energy. The sound resembled that of a chrysalis breaking.

2.

He was born in a place where stars couldn’t be seen.

Born in a low place, he lived like trash. A sinner from birth, not even allowed to dream. The underground city of Attman was a prison to the boy.

A massive prison.

A prison he thought he would never leave.

Even after leaving that prison, the boy was still a prisoner. He considered himself a prisoner. That’s why he thought he had to change. Because a prisoner can’t become a hero. Because a knight must be radiant.

Despite gaining freedom.

Despite crossing the line.

Despite breaking the bars and escaping the prison.

The boy was still bound by something. His speech and expressions became rigid, and his shoulders naturally tensed. He thought that since his roots were those of a mangy hunting dog, a sinner from birth, he needed to completely remake himself from the beginning.

Self-denial.

Even after leaving the prison, the boy unconsciously still considered himself a prisoner, still wearing shackles on his ankles. The boy realized this fact belatedly. Having realized it, he laughed.

‘I was wrong.’

The boy.

‘I was wrong from the beginning.’

Najin exhaled deeply.

The underground city, Attman.

His cursed hometown and the prison that had confined him. A place he hated and an origin he wanted to hide, but now he had to acknowledge it.

Najin closed his eyes. With eyes closed, he could see the landscape of the underground city. But the city wasn’t as dark as he remembered. There were two stars there.

A high star and a low star.

The stars the boy had dreamed of in a place where stars couldn’t be seen were there. Looking at the low star, Najin smiled bitterly. Who was the first knight he had admired? It was Ivan. Ivan, the Knight of Atanga.

The knight who planted a dream in him.

The master who pushed him forward.

He had said: Run beyond the line, run far away. Run freely. You are free now. These were the dying words of the knight he had served. How could he proudly call himself Ivan’s disciple if he didn’t keep those words?

‘I was mistaken, Ivan.’

Najin raised his sword.

The moment he raised his sword, Jerold and Klaus could only close their mouths. They couldn’t take even one step toward Najin. If they approached carelessly, they would die. That intuition flashed through both their minds.

The flow had reversed.

The air in the area churned.

But contrary to the churning flow, the pure white sword energy settled down. There was no violently surging sword energy. The sword energy emitting a soft light was utterly serene.

Najin lowered his sword. The pure white sword energy crumbled. Like a chrysalis breaking, or like bundled threads unraveling and scattering. As the sword energy scattered, darkness fell in the forest.

Najin still had his eyes closed.

With closed eyes, what he saw was his inner self. A space of barely ten steps. However, that space was now violently churning. The scenery began to expand.

Buildings rose along the outskirts.

The cityscape Najin had walked through, the alleys where he had scavenged through garbage, the dirty and dark places but clearly the places where Najin had lived appeared one after another.

Najin didn’t deny any of it.

He simply smiled, looking at the pure white star shining in the center of the city. Ivan, you taught me so many things. Truly, just as you said.

“Loosen up a bit, kid.”

“Smile more.”

“How can you live being so tense all the time?”

I keep tensing my shoulders. I keep thinking I have to be a certain way. I try to carry myself with gravity. Even now. Your life and honor rest on my shoulders. And not just yours. Ofen, Old Man Hogel, the weight of all those who helped me rests there.

It’s truly heavy.

I keep thinking I shouldn’t live like this.

I pulled Excalibur. I must become a hero. Merlin, that great constellation in the night sky, watches over me. She whispers that I will become a hero. Yes, I should become a hero. I naturally think of King Arthur.

I must become like Arthur.

That’s what I keep thinking.

More dignified. More knightly. More, more, more… Unconsciously, that’s what I kept thinking. My expression became rigid, my speech stiff. The hunting dog from the underground city gradually faded.

But where would my roots go?

I won’t deny them. Just like you, Ivan. Above all, didn’t I promise?

‘I swore in a place where stars couldn’t be seen.’

To engrave stars in the sky.

That oath has value because it was made in a place without stars. I have no intention of diminishing that value. Though I was born in a place without stars, I dreamed of stars, and I will surely hang a star in that sky.

“Huff…”

Najin exhaled deeply.

The tension left his shoulders and his posture softened. Naturally, his breathing also became lighter. His mental image expanded far away. Najin slowly rose from his place.

Merlin stood there.

In Merlin’s hand was a small birdcage.

She threw the birdcage toward Najin. A crudely made birdcage. Looking at that birdcage, Najin smiled. Smiling, he swung his sword.

He swung his sword lightly.

Surprisingly smooth and natural movement. When he swung the sword, sword energy didn’t surge. It didn’t pull the flow. Only the tip of the sword shone.

The tip of the sword shone.

A pure white star formed at the sword’s tip.

In reality, the sword cut through empty air, but in his mental image, the swung sword cut through the birdcage. The birdcage was cut so easily. Watching the crumbling birdcage, Najin opened his closed eyes.

The chrysalis was broken.

The birdcage was shattered.

The boy had reached metamorphosis.

BABABABABABABA!

Light exploded in the empty air. Starting from the tip of Najin’s sword, light continued. The continuing light formed a shape like a constellation.

Completely decomposed and reconstructed sword energy.

It was no longer the sword energy of a Sword Expert. Nor was it sword energy that merely contained fragments of mental imagery. It was sword energy in a completely new form. Sword energy that fully contained mental imagery, unique only to Najin.

The eyes of the boy who opened them shone platinum.

Sword Seeker.

One who walks the path of the sword, a seeker of the sword.

The boy who completed his metamorphosis had reached the realm of the Sword Seeker.

3.

“Metamorphosis…”

Klaus muttered involuntarily.

Metamorphosis. It’s a process one must go through to reach the realm of a Sword Seeker, or a comparable level. He too had gone through a similar process.

The sensation of expanding mental scenery, and the aura surrounding the spear being completely reconstructed. Klaus, who had felt that sensation in the middle of a battlefield, recalled the past while observing the present.

Before him stood a young man who had just undergone metamorphosis. Klaus stared at the constellation circling around the tip of Najin’s sword as if entranced. Sword energy in the form of a constellation. Had such a form of sword energy ever existed in history?

Though each Sword Seeker’s sword energy is unique, there are usually some overlapping aspects. However, Klaus was seeing this form of sword energy for the first time today. Jerold, who had faced countless strong opponents, felt the same.

The sword energy Najin raised shone brilliantly even in the dark forest. The brilliant constellation drove away the darkness.

A constellation drawn by a human sword. Facing this sword energy for the first time, the corner of Jerold’s mouth twitched. He laughed while gripping his great sword tightly. He sensed it. The tide of battle had turned. Advantage and disadvantage had reversed.

Standing before him was a Sword Seeker.

A strong one who had clearly reached the realm of the Sword Seeker.

Jerold wasn’t the only one laughing. Klaus also burst into laughter. Metamorphosis in this situation! Though trials demand growth from humans, most trials kill humans. Yet that young man had overcome the trial and achieved growth.

‘Amazing, truly.’

Forgetting that they were in a life-or-death duel, Klaus purely admired him. At the same time, he felt cold sweat running down his spine.

A swordsman who had been perfect in every aspect except sword energy had now acquired powerful sword energy.

From now on, they wouldn’t be making him bleed with each attack; they would have to be careful not to get their own bodies torn apart. Though the situation had reversed, the flow itself hadn’t changed at all.

One strike.

The match would be decided in a single strike.

Klaus composed himself. His mental image rippled and enveloped his spear. Jerold stepped forward strongly. His mental image settled more intensely than ever on the great sword that had torn countless demons to death.

One strike.

A moment would decide the match.