My Master (2)
Sierra's shy yet clear voice echoed in my head.
First, let's stay calm. Even if I could see her, Sierra might not know that I could.
"Phew... Shall we get going now?"
I muttered to myself, making sure she could hear me, and attempted to walk past her. Since she was ultimately just a spirit, I assumed physical contact would be impossible.
However, the moment I tried to pass right through her—
—Softly.
My head, which was supposed to pass through Sierra, pressed directly into her chest. Because she was floating in midair, my face happened to be at the exact same height as her protruding chest.
Flustered, I couldn't even move my head, which was now buried deep in her cleavage.
"..."
A heavy silence stretched between us.
I can touch her. I could actually make physical contact with a spirit—a ghost.
Something was very wrong.
Though I had never been embraced by a woman's chest before, I could tell instantly that the sensation against my face was barely any different from touching a living human.
Sierra's trembling voice, as she covered her chest with both arms, rang loudly in my head.
Hearing Sierra's response, I finally snapped out of it and took a step back.
Things just got complicated.
I had tried to take an item filled with Sierra's memories. And without her permission, no less.
For whatever reason, she was in a state where physical contact with me was possible. Fighting was not an option. Even if I fought and won, it would cause problems when I tried to seal her and form a contract.
I needed to handle this calmly. First, I had to figure out exactly how much she knew.
Sierra floated through the air, circling around me. She scanned me up and down before speaking. Since she didn't mention the lamp, it seemed she hadn't witnessed what happened inside the cave.
Hovering near me, Sierra cupped my cheek with a cold hand as she spoke.
Why did I touch the item of a deceased person who died decades ago? How did a blind man reach that hidden cave, so difficult to find in this untouched bamboo forest?
I couldn't afford to become her enemy. I couldn't let our relationship start on the footing of a mere grave robber. I had to handle her perfectly from this moment on.
"...This is quite bewildering. I thought I had temporarily lost my mind and was hearing things, but..."
Sierra's confident voice echoed in my mind. I pulled the pendant from my breast pocket, showing it to her as I continued.
"By 'possession'... do you mean this?"
"Then the one standing before me must be Lady Sierra."
"Even if it is the past, a great reputation is passed down from mouth to mouth. I have been searching for you all this time, Lady Sierra."
As the conversation progressed, Sierra's eyes filled with deep confusion. It was jarring since nothing like this happened in the game, but considering the influence of the blindfold, it wasn't entirely unreasonable. Since it was a legendary-grade item, it wouldn't be strange if it possessed some hidden properties. After all, its very name was the Blindfold That Pierces the Truth.
But what truly mattered was that I knew the future, and I knew the past. I possessed information on countless individuals living in this world, as well as the events surrounding them.
If her soul was to be sealed inside the Demon Blade and she continued to speak to me, it would be incredibly tedious to make up excuses one by one every time she questioned my actions. It would be much easier in the long run to make her believe I was some sort of mysterious, enigmatic figure.
"...Lady Sierra, you vanished after suffering numerous defeats at the hands of the Sword Saint. I believed you had entered secluded training. To defeat the 'Sword Saint'—to create a swordsmanship style that could surpass his."
Sierra looked visibly startled. I didn't answer her question. It was better to let her draw her own conclusions. And I still had plenty of even more shocking revelations left for her.
"However, no matter how secluded the training, vanishing for decades is impossible. I had faintly guessed your death, Lady Sierra. Though I never expected you to speak to me like this."
Dazed by my words, Sierra asked. I had no choice but to play it cool.
"My name is Zeto. I came all this way because I wish to become your disciple, Lady Sierra."
"If it is a swordsmanship style designed to defeat the Sword Saint—to defeat the strongest swordsman on the continent—then surely, that style must be the strongest in existence."
Of course, in the game, when Sierra's soul was sealed into the Demon Blade, the player didn't acquire such a swordsmanship style. I assumed it was because the style she was creating was only on the verge of completion, not fully finished.
But there was a difference between the game and reality. It was the same with Emilia. Curing her should have required level 5 in acupuncture, but because I possessed the memories of the actual treatment process, I successfully cured her at only level 3.
I bet on that possibility. I had come here to acquire the ultimate swordsmanship style—one she had never finished, one that didn't even exist in the game. I needed to make her believe that this mysterious man, who had suddenly appeared before her, was doing all this solely to obtain the ultimate swordsmanship.
"I plan to forge a Demon Blade to house your soul, Lady Sierra. Since you have already departed this world, I figured this was the only way for me to learn your swordsmanship."
Sierra knew what a Demon Blade was. Perhaps they were more common in the past than they were now.
Sierra crossed her arms, giving me a coy look. She was absolutely right. But I knew her story. I knew what she desired. It was time to cast the bait. Originally, this was a deal I intended to propose when forming the contract, but I figured there was no harm in securing the agreement beforehand.
"...Lady Sierra. Do you not wish to see... your swordsmanship defeat the Sword Saint?"
Hearing my loaded words, Sierra's eyes narrowed. Sierra was deeply obsessed with the title of Sword Saint. She had strived her entire life to become the continent's greatest swordsman. Yet, she had failed. After suffering countless defeats, she had entered secluded training to devise a style specifically to counter him, only for her illness to worsen, claiming her life just before its completion. Having been bound to the mortal realm by that very regret, I doubted she could easily refuse this offer.
"Of course, the most certain and ideal way would be for you to defeat him yourself, Lady Sierra. But... how can you achieve that with the body of a spirit?"
Sierra fell completely silent. She knew it too. Decades had passed since she died. For decades, she must have seethed with resentment. For decades, she must have yearned for this.
"The Ghost Swordsmanship used to wield a Demon Blade is also a style meant to honor the spirit bound within it. I will honor your unfulfilled grievance, Lady Sierra."
I stepped closer to her, declaring my ambition.
"I will become your disciple, and with your swordsmanship, I will defeat the Sword Saint."
Sierra slowly chewed over my words. To her, there could be no sweeter offer.
Sierra was asking if the title of Sword Saint had passed to someone else over the years.
"He has grown old, but he is still the Sword Saint."
With a sudden shift in her gaze, Sierra floated around me, inspecting me thoroughly.
Sierra reflected on her past, her voice heavy with lingering regret. Now, everything depended on her. We had unexpectedly ended up striking a deal based on our mutual desires, even before the Demon Blade was forged.
If things go south here, sealing her will be impossible. I'll have to give up on Sierra...
At that tense moment, Sierra stood before me and asked for my name once more.
"It is Zeto."
"I have gathered all the materials. All that is left is to hand them over to a blacksmith for forging."
"My first disciple... Does that mean you accept me?"
I asked Sierra, my voice filled with genuine delight.
Sierra was quick to calculate. Just as she said, if I hadn't sought her out, her death would have remained forgotten for a very long time.
Saying so, Sierra approached and embraced me with a bright smile. Then, she whispered into my ear.
Her voice echoing in my mind sounded a touch more alluring. Sierra Style, Reverse Heaven. That was the name of the swordsmanship I would learn from her through Ghost Swordsmanship.
Sierra smiled warmly at me as she spoke. It was the exact moment my 'fake' master became my 'real' master.
With a serious expression, Sierra stared intently at the bandages covering my eyes as she voiced her sudden doubt. Thinking her question had come far too late, I simply laughed it off.