episode_0101

Crunch.

Tran Silvia tore open the blood pack and gulped it down in one go.

It was tasteless blood, probably sold by some shady dealer.

It didn’t used to taste this bad before.

Strangely, ever since she started hanging out with the humans, all the blood packs tasted this bad.

But for the sake of survival, there was no choice.

Tran Silvia furrowed her brows in disdain as she held the blood pack in one hand and drank it.

Her other hand slowly moved down to her waist, feeling for something.

But the familiar sensation was not there.

When she lowered her head, she realized that the sword that was always strapped to her left hip was missing.

The sword that Dakiya had passed down to her.

No, to be more precise, the sword that Dakiya had stolen after his death.

“Ah.”

And in that moment of realization.

Forgotten memories resurfaced.

The reason she had ventured into Elvengard to kill Rex’s brother.

The reason she had killed only him and left quietly.

Everything came flooding back.

It was a rainy night that day.

Tran Silvia had loaded up her pack with supplies and various items and climbed up the rugged mountain.

The humble hut in the middle of the mountain gradually came into view.

And the rhythmic sound of a sword cutting through the air echoed from afar.

“Ah, Silvia has arrived.”

“Don’t call me that. Can’t you put the sword down? You’ll swing it and end up dead.”

Behind the hut where she arrived with her pack on her back.

An old man with sparse white hair was swinging a worn-out sword.

His teeth were missing, and the blade was dull and messy.

But every time the emaciated old man swung his arm with the sword, a powerful sword strike that seemed to cut through the mountain burst forth.

“Now, I truly have enlightenment within reach. Truly, right before my eyes…”

The old man’s name was Dakiya.

A practitioner who had passed down the swordsmanship from ancient times.

And finally, he was a genius who had reached the essence of that swordsmanship.

Dakiya had never held a sword in his hand until he passed middle age.

But by chance, at Tran Silvia’s urging, he picked up the sword.

With explosive talent, he surpassed Swordmasters in just ten years and even defeated Tran Silvia.

And like any other genius, he became tired of the shortcomings and limitations of traditional swordsmanship, leading him to create a new style of swordsmanship.

Passed down through oral tradition, the modified swordsmanship was almost on the verge of extinction.

“Enough with the food and swing the sword.”

“The energy from swinging the sword is my nourishment, just breathing is enough to fill my stomach…”

“You’re just full of gas. That’s a delusion, old man. Eat while you swing. Eat while you swing.”

“Ugh…”

Tran Silvia had a gut feeling.

Dakiya’s fate was nearing its end.

And Dakiya’s sword was on the brink of evolving once again.

After more than ten years of stagnation, at the moment when he was about to age and die.

With twisted joints, a hunched back, and a deteriorating body, Dakiya was seeking enlightenment.

“Forget about the food. I need a Mana Potion.”

“Drinking that will lead you to your death. Eat some food.”

“I know my body best. It’s already on the brink of death. Just eating healthily won’t extend my lifespan. Stop the nonsense and bring me a Mana Potion. I can’t afford to waste time falling asleep and collapsing.”

“…”

Tran Silvia could no longer argue.

Dakiya was facing death, facing enlightenment.

Every minute and every second was precious.

Even if she were to use up her lifespan, Tran Silvia couldn’t understand the desire of the people who wanted to complete the righteousness of their swordsmanship, even after sacrificing half of their lives.

But that earnestness did touch the already hardened heart of Tran Silvia.

“Don’t die and wait for me.”

“Do you think it’s up to me? Hehe.”

“Anyway, don’t die!”

Following that path, Tran Silvia hurriedly descended the mountain.

It would take over a month to walk to the nearest village.

However, despite carrying a bag full of magic herbs, Tran Silvia returned in less than two weeks.

“Dakia! Why is it so quiet here? Don’t tell me you’ve… died…”

*Cough, cough!* “Silvia…”

But what awaited Tran Silvia was a collapsed hut.

And Dakia, who was lying on the ground bleeding from a hole in his chest.

“Did you run away…”

“Indeed, you were an accomplice of the murderer. Since the murderer wouldn’t reveal where he went, I caught you as bait and waited… and you fell right into the trap.”

“…”

Elves in armor surrounded Tran Silvia.

Among them was a man who seemed to be the leader.

Probably a high-ranking warrior.

Tran Silvia immediately memorized his face.

He had been called a murderer for about a hundred years.

Wherever Tran Silvia went, the scent of blood followed.

It was common for bounty hunters to cause trouble in the place where he stayed.

This incident was no different from his usual daily life.

But for some reason.

Tran Silvia felt a surge of anger as she held Dakia.

“Arrrggh!!!”

That day, many elven warriors died.

The man who was the leader exchanged blows with Tran Silvia a few times and was defeated.

By the riverside stained with the blood of the fallen, Tran Silvia held the lifeless Dakia and swore.

That she would continue the legacy of his swordsmanship.

It may not turn out well, but she would do her best to fulfill it.

She would also establish the righteousness that he had not been able to complete.

And she would avenge his grudges.

After burying Dakia, Tran Silvia immediately interrogated and found out the name of the elven leader.

He was a high-ranking warrior who had returned to Elvengard a few days ago after a mission to exterminate murderers.

Tran Silvia chose to go to Elvengard without hesitation.

Without any hesitation, she swiftly ended the life of the high-ranking warrior who was relaxing and laughing at his home.

It was certain.

That was the face she had seen back then.

She had avenged Dakia.

There was no longer any reason for blood to be shed.

Tran Silvia left Elvengard at the request of the priestess.

Since then, Tran Silvia had been sharpening the sword, which was Dakia’s legacy.

Currently, she had lent it to the indigenous person who had gone to duel.

“It seems like I can’t remember.”

The young elf who had threatened her excessively back then was not memorable.

At that time, when her anger was at its peak, nothing else mattered.

Tran Silvia sat on the ground with a bitter smile.

She had done her best to recreate it, but in the end, the righteousness was just a counterfeit.

The fact that a young indigenous person could make a counterfeit sword so similar to Dakia’s sword on the verge of death was surprising.

Perhaps it was because his sword, which had been destroyed to the extreme of inefficiency, was similar to the sword wielded by the old man whose body was completely broken.

“There’s nothing to do.”

Now, all she could do was wait for the results of the duel.

Waiting for news that she had finally created the original from the counterfeit.

Tran Silvia’s red eyes shone brightly in the darkness.

“It feels like my body is itching.”

For some reason, her body trembled with an inexplicable thirst.

***

My body had gone through a terrible ordeal.

I realized that on the seventh occasion.

Through the unique characteristics of swordsmanship, I was able to master the art of swordsmanship from the beginning, and after regressing six times, I finally achieved a level 10 in the Dakiaryu swordsmanship.

Reaching level 9 or 10 meant that I was at a level where I could overpower knights who were born and raised.

I also thought of myself as strong.

Until I accidentally entered the Swordsmanship Academy and faced off against a Sword Master.

He was just a rookie who had recently earned the title of Sword Master.

With a fierce look on his face, he seemed even younger than me.

He was someone who had not yet realized the true essence of swordsmanship, a guy known as a ‘fake Sword Master’.

But he had enough skill to play with me.

That day, I realized.

That reaching level 10 in swordsmanship doesn’t even come close to the pinnacle of swordsmanship, let alone reaching it.

No matter how many times I regress, I cannot match up against those with true talent.

From that day on, I turned my focus towards enhancing my combat abilities in a short amount of time with minimal effort, rather than focusing on sword techniques.

In other words, it was a trick.

It was faster to improve by using tricks rather than training with a sword in a brute force manner, and tricks worked better against monsters.

In reality, I became much stronger.

Under the premise of not having much combat experience, I was able to defeat rookie Sword Masters.

But as I regressed over and over again.

I mastered all the tricks I could and used them all, only to hit a wall once again.

There was no way to get stronger with tricks anymore.

It was the words of someone who had fled from the right path.

After running away over and over again, there was no longer a way to escape.

I started wielding the sword that I had given up on.

Instead of being satisfied with the head of the snake, the king of the forest.

I followed the tail of the dragon.

The result was despairing.

From the 7th regression until now.

My swordsmanship level remained the same.

There was no sign of reaching the essence.

Even when I visited Elvengard last time and trained a bit.

It was ultimately a process of reverting my body back to the state it was in the last regression.

There was not much progress.

And finally.

An opportunity came.

Not from someone who learned the essence, but from someone who established it themselves.

I met Transylvia and expected to gain significant enlightenment from her.

But all that came back was complete indifference.

It was neglect disguised as teaching.

Even the basic skills she promised to correct were eventually abandoned.

I kept trying to imitate the vague concept of ‘expanding the range of attacks’ and the essence that Transylvia showed a few times.

In the end, I got angrier at Transylvia for not giving me any advice or guidance.

Fueled by frustration, I swung my sword without caring about my body.

I swung it again and again.

I probably didn’t swing it for the past 3 days as much as I did in the 12th regression.

Yet, I gained no enlightenment.

But I did not give up.

I was tired of running away.

Instead of lamenting my lack of talent, I decided to put all my effort towards reaching the point of life and death.

“Huh? Why am I holding a sword…?”

The moment I drew the Hwando.

The moment I awkwardly gripped the unfamiliar and ancient sword with both hands.

My eyes widened.

It was an old sword.

In a sensation that felt instinctual.

From the sword handle, I could almost feel the hand of the sword’s previous owner.

Not Transylvia’s hand.

Even further back.

The hand of the old owner who transformed the sword handle to fit his hand shape and imbued it with spirit.

His hand was holding mine, guiding me to hold the Hwando correctly.

And at the same time, I feel as if he is whispering to me.

Relaxing my body.

Bringing the sword closer to my body and holding it.

Moving as if possessed, I gradually follow his instructions and the coordination falls into place.

And then, a shiver runs down my body.

A sensation so familiar to my body, as if I have been wielding the sword for days.

The sword that I have been swinging for three days.

The sword that I forced into my body with awkward movements trying to imitate Tran Sylvia.

That very sword is now in my hands.

Of course, it’s just an imitation.

I may not be able to perfectly replicate Tran Sylvia’s swordsmanship, but for some reason, my current sword feels more stable and complete.

My intuition, although untested, tells me that.

I decide to trust it this time.

Not just me, but Tran Sylvia and this sword are all shouting that I am right.

“Futile…!”

Whether he noticed the change in my stance or not, Lex’s face pales.

Perhaps Lex has already realized.

No matter how much life he burns, no matter how much power he forces into his body, he is facing an overwhelming force that he cannot surpass.

Yet, Lex charges forward.

Because he can’t believe it.

Perhaps, because he can’t accept it.

In that case, I’ll show him.

I’ll make him believe and accept it.

[Skill, ‘Darkia Style’ has leveled up.]

[Skill: Darkia Style (lv.11)]

The system window appears before my eyes.

The tip of the sword moves in a curve.

The pinnacle of offensive swordsmanship.

The ultimate technique of reaching the sword where it cannot reach.

Darkia Style: Fifth.

A new realization that I came up with on my own, fearing that I would tear my groin following Tran Sylvia, bursts out from the sword.

Swish…!

An attack that seems ordinary at first glance.

But instead of hitting Lex, it just cuts through the air.

However, the area affected by my strike is not just the radius of the sword.

The white sword energy extends from the blade and reaches towards Lex.

An unexpected blow causes Lex to twist his posture and take a defensive stance with the sword facing him.

“Kuh…?!”

Covered by the sword energy, Lex is pushed back.

Rolling on the ground and getting up, Lex looks at me with a bewildered expression.

There’s nothing left to see.

The duel is over.

Now, I prepare for the final blow.

The 14 strikes of Darkia Style.

Injecting all the essence into the basic skills that were deemed a mess.

Swish…!

I aim at Lex, who is far away.

Striking from all angles – horizontal, vertical, diagonal, and more.

Unleashing an inescapable barrage of attacks.

The sword emits countless sword energies, cutting through the air.

Soon, the white lines fill the field of vision, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other.

Like an inescapable net of sword energy, it engulfs Lex.

“Kraaaah!!!”

Lex tries to defend himself, but it’s not an attack that can be blocked with just one sword.

The sword energy rushes towards Lex like a wave, carving numerous wounds on his body, causing him to fall.

As he loses consciousness from the pain, the fiery flames also fade away.

The wall behind Lex is engraved with countless marks from the sword energy.

“Haa… Haaa…”

It’s over.

Finally, it’s over.

As I breathe a sigh of relief and sit down, Mijeong makes a cringe-worthy comment from the side.

“Wow… Iron Blood Storm Strike.”

Iron Blood Storm Strike?

Sorry, but there’s no way something with such a weird name would be called that.

[Skill name registered.]

[Darkia Style Fifth: Iron Blood Storm Strike]

Ah, damn.