Chapter 29: The Path of the Sword: Dedication and Skill

A sword is a tool for killing.

A weapon that can end a life, even a child wielding it against an adult.

But as if that weren’t enough, humans, in their pursuit of efficiency, of swift and decisive death, have devised ways to wield sharpened steel, tearing flesh with a mere touch.

Those recognized as the pinnacle of this craft,

those who kill the fastest and most efficiently, are bestowed the title of Sword Saint.

There have been Sword Saints who wielded dual blades, katanas, greatswords, even axes and scythes.

Swordsmanship, they said, had reached its limits with the pure sword. Everyone claimed the pure sword, the simple sword, was predictable, boring.

But I loved the ordinary sword.

The whistle of wind as it cleaved through the air.

The satisfying weight in my hand and shoulder.

There were many reasons, but simply put, I loved the sword.

But there are always those who belittle dedication, who find fault in passion.

‘Hey, you’ll never become a Sword Saint with that.’

‘Honestly, isn’t the bastard sword a bit…basic? It’s for beginners. A bastard’s sword. Pfft.’

Ah, come to think of it, that bastard with the snide remark got a bit scratched up.

I broke his nose. Heh. Served him right.

What I truly couldn’t understand was,

Why do they think that knowing the trajectory, that a simple trajectory,

makes it blockable?

The speed of a sword varies from person to person.

Physique, muscle mass, even mindset—all affect the sword’s speed and precision.

The realm of cutting down an opponent before they even perceive the trajectory.

The swordsman with the fastest speed.

That was my lifelong goal.

I practiced the same stances, at the same time, every single day.

Well, that’s why my techniques have such uninspired names.

I grip the sword firmly.

Shift my weight to the balls of my feet.

The muscles in my shoulders tense, a low creaking sound escaping my lips.

And I swing downwards.

A simple name for an orthodox stance.

“Down.”

“A predictable downward swing. How laughable.”

Kudos sneered, raising her sword.

Too late.

To even think of blocking after seeing my sword…

Thud.

“…Huh?”

Swish!

The belated sound of the sword cutting through the air.

Of course. My sword surpasses even the speed of sound.

“One arm, to start.”

A slender, feminine arm lies on the ground.

Well, to continue what I was saying,

I only practice up, down, left, and right swings. Fifty thousand times each, every day.

A diet of protein and elixirs.

This has been my life since I first held a sword at the age of five.

And my innate ability, awakened later in life, perfectly complements my swordsmanship.

Kudos’s eyes tremble.

I hadn’t expected to see fear in them, but…

“Diligence? Talent?”

Eyes consumed by envy, inferiority.

And desire. The desire to make it her own.

…Disgusting.

“How repulsive, Queen of Envy.”

“Shall I use the power of Envy?”

As if she hadn’t even heard me,

Kudos, without a word, vomited a luminous yellow liquid.

A mass of mana, so repulsive to behold, radiating a sense of impending doom.

“Ugh.”

Gurgle…

Different from what she used to attack Teacher Raven.

Something more…unsettling, terrifying.

It coalesces into…

“…Me?”

“Gagh…!”

A grotesque replica of me, the size of Kudos’s head, forms.

Its power surpasses even my own.

Though weaker than me at my peak, it’s not an opponent to be trifled with.

A thrill runs through me. How long has it been since a fight like this?

Nothing compared to that battle a hundred years ago.

My body has weakened since then.

While I’m lost in thought, Kudos’s clone sprouts wings and flies away,

towards the academy.

“…The students.”

“So, the multiple presences I sensed…it’s because of that ability.”

Teacher Raven, appearing beside me, murmurs.

He holds a strange, bladeless sword.

Uncontained aura surges around him like waves.

Kudos glares at Teacher Raven, grinding her teeth.

“…Arrogance.”

“Silence. There are ears present.”

Teacher Raven and Kudos, exchanging cryptic words,

seem eerily similar for some reason.

No. What a foolish thought.

Perhaps it’s that b*tch Kudos’s ability.

Nothing is more foolish than internal conflict caused by a strange illusion.

Calmly, aim for her neck.

Teacher Raven glances at me and says,

“I’ve pinpointed the locations of Kudos’s clones. Most are concentrated at the academy. I’ll go protect the students.”

“…Teacher Raven, don’t overexert yourself.”

Even if Teacher Raven is powerful,

it was a battle that devastated an entire city.

Continuously using magic will take its toll.

Teacher Raven smiles faintly.

“Haha, I’ll be fine. If you’re that worried, I’ll just use my body.”

“Yes, that would be…”

“What are you two talking about without me! You’re my com…”

Whack!

Teacher Raven punches Kudos in the face, cutting her off mid-sentence. Fidgeting irritably, he adjusts his clothes.

He’s a bit scary…

“I’ll be going now. Good luck.”

“Yes, please protect the students.”

Teacher Raven stamps his foot, and his form vanishes.

He’s truly amazing… Teacher Raven.

He even reminds me of her.

“Ugh…”

 

***

 

Kudos pretends to be dazed, still reeling from the blow.

The grotesque sword in her hand has vanished, replaced by a sharp dagger.

Is she planning to stab me when I move in for the kill?

Such a transparent ploy.

I wonder if she can still act after taking a direct hit to the head.

Hook.

“Oof!”

“Ow! That’s a dirty trick for a swordsman…!”

Kudos rubs the back of her head and stands.

The dagger gurgles and transforms back into its grotesque form.

A shape so bizarre, its trajectory is impossible to predict.

The most fundamental of forms versus a copycat of all forms.

I love this kind of classic, yet exciting, trope.

I kick off the ground and launch myself upwards.

Forced into a downward trajectory, limiting my already few options.

Kudos assumes a stance to receive my attack.

“Then your actions are already decided. Do you lack real-life experience?”

Kudos sneers, a wide grin plastered on her face.

But she doesn’t know my ability yet.

“Keep laughing, Envy.”

The momentum and aura of my descending body converge,

becoming a bolt of lightning striking the earth.

“Down.”

Well, the name of the technique hasn’t changed, but…

My body hurtles towards Kudos, exceeding the speed of sound.

But a Legion Commander wouldn’t be caught off guard by the same speed.

Yes, she’s staring right at the tip of my sword.

A fearsome woman.

“Die!”

Her grotesque sword thrusts upwards, aiming to pierce me.

Now.

I draw upon all the mana and aura within me.

A single spell, etched into my very being.

“Activating unique skill: Trajectory Shift.”

The form of my sword blurs.

My descending body and sword,

shift, now aiming for Kudos’s left side.

Maintaining the same momentum and velocity.

As if I had been beside her from the beginning.

“…!”

Clang!

Kudos hurriedly brings her sword to bear, but the force sends her flying.

She’ll be confused, but with reflexes like that, she’ll quickly grasp my ability.

The power to manipulate the trajectory and afterimage of my sword.

A downward swing can instantly become a leftward slash.

A single cut can become a thousand.

But this attack…against someone like her, who relies on prediction, it’ll only work initially…

Now that I’ve revealed this technique, I have to finish this quickly.

Bang!

Instant acceleration.

If there’s one thing I’m confident in besides swordsmanship, it’s this.

“Hello?”

“You bastard.”

Having reached Kudos instantly,

there’s only one way to wield my sword.

I take a breath.

For myself, who will dance later.

And for my partner, who will die at the end of this dance.

“Kudos, watch carefully. If you can.”

“…You underestimate a Legion Commander.”

I raise my sword behind my shoulder and swing down.

Then, raising it again, I slash to the left.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Kudos calmly blocks each blow,

but she shouldn’t have blocked there.

“Right, up, down.”

Parry, slice, slash.

“Ugh… what kind of absurd ability…!”

“It’s a bit of a cheat, but I don’t want to hear that from someone like you, who can create incredibly powerful clones.”

Even louder than our grueling battle,

the sounds of a fiercer fight echo from the academy.

Is the clone as strong as the original?

Or can she divide her power?

I don’t know. If I kill this one, it’ll work out somehow.

“I quite like your ability. I definitely want it.”

Kudos’s eyes tremble, filled with even more desire than before.

She’s even more repulsive now.

“Try blocking them all, Kookudos.”

“What’s that? Do you want to die?”

Trajectory Shift’s main ability: the result of the sword’s movement changes.

The flesh she cut isn’t where she aimed.

I can choose to use Trajectory Shift with every swing, or not at all.

I can use it twice, three times.

But surely, even though the shifted sword is harder to predict than the previous one,

once grasped, it can be easily avoided.

Clang!

Our swords clash.

We’re both smiling.

“Keep up.”

“Let’s dance. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good waltz.”

Our swords move, carrying weight and intent.

Fast strikes shift unpredictably,

appearing from unexpected angles, or stopping mid-air.

Clang! Clang!

My foul-tempered partner’s eyes dart back and forth,

trying to predict when I’ll activate it.

She won’t be able to.

Not unless she guesses correctly.

Trajectory Shift, final form.

“Dance of Change.”

Tensing all the mana and aura in my body,

I exceed my maximum speed.

Swish… swish… swish…

My sword moves even faster.

Then pauses.

And the dance resumes.

I repeat this process tens of thousands of times.

“Up, down, left, right, right, up, up, down, left, right, left, left.”

“You crazy bastard!”

Kudos frantically parries, overwhelmed.

Consumed by emotion, she can’t comprehend all the attacks in that instant.

Six feints and three real strikes, all blended seamlessly.

And three attacks aimed at vital points.

The number of feints and real strikes in the next attack keeps changing.

How long will she just defend?

Clang, clang, clang, clang!

The relentless clash of aura-infused swords.

The crisp ring of metal on metal.

The occasional sound of wood splitting as Kudos fails to parry a blow.

How much time has passed?

Her other arm has already regenerated.

As her stance stabilizes,

she blocks more and more of my attacks.

And no one knows this better than…

“What should I do, Lenas? I think I’m about to die.”

Kudos’s wounds are significant, but

she’s fully adapted to my speed.

This is pointless.

I’ll die if this continues, just like she said.

This is my limit against a true Legion Commander in this weakened state.

Is there no other way?

I swore I wouldn’t use this again.

Swinging my sword forward, I kick off the ground.

Feint and retreat.

“What? Running away now?”

Clang…

With a single, pathetic clang,

the seemingly eternal dance ends.

Well, the witness will disappear soon.

Let’s see her reaction.

“Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“What…?”

Kudos’s triumphant grin falters.

The confident,

swaggering,

fighter instinctively shifts into a defensive posture.

Hum…

A pure white sword materializes in mid-air.

Inscribed on its blade are intricate divine runes.

Runes that cannot, and should not, be replicated.

And demons understand their meaning best.

“The Holy Sword of White Flame… you’re…”

“The Legion Commanders have improved, I see. I should probably re-evaluate my feelings for my junior.”

It was a rather… ridiculous reason, after all.

I should apologize later.

“Revan, the previous Hero! Why are you here…?”

“If you ask why I didn’t become a constellation after killing the Demon King a hundred years ago… well, it was boring.”

For a constellation to live on the continent…

naturally, there are tremendous restrictions and limitations.

And if I draw the Holy Sword,

I’m obligated to kill the Demon King again.

Well, I should just kill him quickly.

The students might be in danger.

I swing the White Flame once.

Right to left.

Without even assuming a stance.

“Farewell, demon.”

Slice.

Kudos is bisected cleanly.

Holy flames consume her remains.

Her clones remain, but she won’t be creating any more.

“I should be going now.”

I’ve wasted too much time.