The Path of the Sword Cloud
What exactly is a genius? Is it simply someone who learns faster than others? Duke, a knight of the Richard family, believed it was more than that. A true genius was someone who carved out their own path.
In the family training grounds where he stood, one such genius was stepping into a new realm.
Andrew swung his sword as if possessed. He had lost nearly all the composure he'd once possessed in life, and even his first love had slipped away. He poured every tangled emotion into his blade. It was a sword heavy with rage and despair, yet ironically, those very feelings accelerated his growth.
His once strictly orthodox swordplay gradually became freer. Breaking away from the regular, patterned movements, he was pioneering a sword style uniquely his own—the realm of Sword Cloud. In other words, it was the stage right before infusing mana into a blade and releasing it. Andrew had already reached the threshold of becoming a Sword Master.
The other knights watching in the training grounds were all left in awe.
— Is that...?
The seat of the continent's greatest swordsman is practically guaranteed.
And Duke, watching from the closest vantage, felt a shiver of awe run through him.
'So this is the greatest talent on the continent.'
Even Duke, who had been hailed as a sword prodigy in his youth, had only reached the Sword Cloud realm at the age of thirty. Andrew had achieved it in his teens. The gap was so vast that jealousy didn't even have room to sprout. It was an overwhelming talent that made it impossible to guess how far he might climb in the future.
As a swordsman before he was a knight, Duke couldn't help but wonder.
'Just how far can he elevate the art of the sword?'
Yet despite his true feelings, Duke offered harsh criticism toward Andrew.
"For your age, that's an excessively good result. Still, it's not enough. I can clearly see you haven't completely shaken off your attachment to orthodox forms."
At Duke's level, the imbalances in Andrew's swordplay were visible. Of course, they were nothing more than minor flaws, but the one being pointed out couldn't help but feel bothered.
However...
'Oh? Not even the slightest reaction?'
Most geniuses would have wavered due to their inherent pride, but Andrew was different. The way he continued swinging his sword with unwavering resolve showed not a single hint of disturbance.
'It's not just suppressing his emotions and ignoring me. What incredible composure.'
Even in this moment, Andrew's swordsmanship was growing infinitesimally sharper. His concentration was nothing short of astonishing. If it had been the old Andrew, even a slight emotional shift might have shown, but after Philia's declaration of annulment, the massive shock had led him to devote everything solely to the sword.
He had forcibly severed all external stimuli. He was on the verge of reaching a state beyond mere immersion—a realm of selflessness.
"Enough."
Duke deliberately broke Andrew's concentration. It wasn't that he wanted to interfere.
"...How long do you plan to keep swinging that sword?"
Right now, Andrew looked like skin and bones. Ever since the annulment, he had abandoned sleep and meals entirely to swing his blade. Even though his stamina had long been depleted, he was holding on through sheer willpower alone. Having reached an even higher realm in that state, his mental strength must have finally hit its limit.
As his mentor, Duke feared that Andrew might break himself through such reckless training.
'That would be the Empire's greatest loss.'
Andrew looked at Duke, who stood in his way, and spoke his first words of the day.
"...I have no intention of stopping until I've poured out all my emotions."
With those words, Andrew swung his sword once more.
'Philia, just wait a little longer.'
Andrew knew full well that he wouldn't find the answer through swordsmanship alone. But if he possessed overwhelming power, that would be different.
Watching Andrew train with ironclad determination, Duke inwardly appealed to the gods.
O Goddess Solennea, how could you bestow such diligence upon an unparalleled genius?
***
I had secretly brought the little one all the way outside the castle walls and carefully set its small body down.
-Kyaaaooong!
Judging by its spirit alone, it displayed a ferocity that could intimidate most demonic beasts, but because of its adorable appearance, it looked utterly harmless.
"Time to head back."
-Kyaaong?
"If you get caught here, you might end up getting hurt."
It wasn't an empty warning. If the head butler or the other servants caught it, the little one might get bullied for no reason, so leaving quickly would be best for it.
-Kyaaong...
Strangely, it seemed to understand human speech. It turned with a pitiful back and slowly headed away. Its tail drooped low.
Watching it trudge off made me want to raise it because it was so cute, but there was nothing I could do.
'It's not like I have a private room, and secretly keeping it inside the castle is impossible.'
If I were just a regular commoner, I might have had a house outside. Times like these made me truly regret my status as a servant.
After watching it leave, I fell into complicated emotions as I recalled everything that had happened before.
"Haa, I really don't know anymore."
Maybe it was because everything that had occurred until now had been so extraordinary. As an ordinary citizen, it was quite difficult for me to fully accept it all. Even though I tried to use my wits and work hard, the endlessly rising difficulty of this doom scenario honestly left me drained.
'I wonder if the me from the first round felt something similar.'
Alone in an unfamiliar place with no one to acknowledge him and no one to teach him—had he quietly struggled all by himself? And if he had still failed in the end, what must he have felt back then?
It was a subtle emotion that was hard to put into words.
"Ah."
I felt it instinctively.
'Right now. This very moment.'
It felt like it would be good to swing a sword right now. But there was no sword in my hand at the moment. Should I go back to Philia and ask for one? No, rather than that...
***
Ian closed his eyes and recalled the memories from earlier. The time he had spent swinging a sword hadn't been long, and he hadn't learned anything either, but there was one thing.
The sensation of gripping a sword remained vividly clear.
Recalling that past sensation, he manifested a sword within his mind. It might be crude, but it was undeniably a sword.
'I'll release all the emotions inside me through the sword.'
Complexity and confusion. And anger. Pouring them all in, he swung the sword.
It was chaotic and messy. A sword simply swayed by emotion. The current blade was far too crude. The pinnacle of the sloppiness a beginner would commit. That was why he built a framework here.
The life-or-death battle Ian had experienced before. Using the techniques from Aria that he had seen and felt during their confrontation as a model, he transformed them into his sword.
The monstrous strength she had displayed, something that hardly seemed human. He infused his sword with power that transcended limits and swung it. Originally, it should have been impossible for Ian's body to produce that level of force, but by using the sword as a medium to concentrate his entire body's strength into one point, he made it possible.
Without even realizing it, Ian was comprehending the essence of strong sword.
Naturally, no genius could comprehend this without a sword. It was impossible unless one had reached the supreme realm of Mind Sword.
An alien talent that allowed him to train at the entry level with insights that transcended his original realm. Ian's talent was blooming far earlier than even he himself realized.
While Ian was deeply immersed in his enlightenment, the head butler, who had come outside for a drink, stared at him with a dumbfounded expression.
'Crazy bastard. What the hell is he doing?'
To the head butler's eyes, Ian looked like he was flailing his arms and swaying toward empty air. It was an act he simply could not understand.
'A dance? Is he practicing a dance?'
Practicing dance alone in broad daylight. But no matter how he looked at it, the movements lacked any real discipline to be called a dance. He considered shouting at Ian for wasting time right then and there.
'Since it seems like that guy has gotten close to the young lady again, I should hold back. I knew he was weird from the start, but I didn't think he'd actually gone insane...'
The head butler decided to leave Ian alone, thinking his mind had gone half-mad. And so, the misunderstanding about Ian grew deeper and deeper.
***
In a remote secret realm on the Eastern Continent, the man encountered the only person he had ever considered a true rival in his life.
The child abandoned by the gods. The fallen plunderer. The King of Ten Thousand Soldiers, Orgen.
He wasn't called the King of Ten Thousand Soldiers because he could skillfully wield every weapon. The man looked at him with a dumbfounded expression.
"This is a bit much."
Orgen drew various weapons from each of his six arms. It was like the form of an asura from myth. Just from the aura alone, one could tell. Unlike the enemies who had relied solely on raw power before, this was a master who had rigorously trained in true techniques.
Just by the time spent training, it easily surpassed the man's by several dozen times. Not only in strength, but in skill and realm as well, he stood above the man. The number of weapons went without saying.
But why was it...
The corners of the man's mouth curved upward at an angle. Orgen smiled the same way and spoke.
"Watching someone transcend their limits in martial arts is always a pleasurable sight."
The two martial lunatics charged toward each other.