Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Master-Disciple as One
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-Heavenly Nameless
I had already guessed that my Master had lived for quite a long time.
Unlike her, I'm not completely oblivious. There were plenty of clues to speculate from.
Even when we first met, compared to Master's appearance—which could generously be called that of a young adult just reaching adulthood—the house she lived in was far too dilapidated.
'It was so bad that I wondered how she could even live there.'
The logs pieced together haphazardly were riddled with wormholes inside,
and mushrooms had even sprouted in one corner of the room.
Was anywhere else in better shape?
'Not at all.'
The ceiling leaked rain like it had forgotten its purpose, with mold blooming across the floor,
and the uneven ground would twist your back if you tried sleeping there.
So the first thing I did upon arriving was to repair the house Master lived in.
Of course, Master put up a little resistance.
When I casually brought up the house while trying to fix it, she lit up like she'd been waiting for it and started boasting about how she'd built it herself, piece by piece.
How she'd gathered the materials, what kind of animals she'd encountered back then...
Her mouth just wouldn't stop itching to talk.
Even while describing the house, her stories kept veering off into tangents.
She puffed out her chest—which was on the smaller side—and thrust her chin up proudly as she explained the circumstances of building it, and honestly...
Back then, it kind of killed the mood.
I couldn't help it. My initial feelings toward Master had been one of profound awe.
'Of course, looking back now, she was just adorably cute.'
Anyway, seeing how much affection Master had for that house, I did wonder if I shouldn't fix it up.
But I couldn't in good conscience let my benefactor stay in a place that seemed like it would ruin her health just by living there, so I secretly repaired it bit by bit.
Master still doesn't know, even now.
A slightly irreverent thought, perhaps.
'How is Master so oblivious?'
At this point, you might think I'd start worrying about her, but I wasn't concerned at all.
On the contrary, I was glad to see this side of her.
Because I'd found a way I could help Master,
and whatever she lacked, I could fill in the gaps.
Some might see me as a bit creepy for thinking that way, but this is what I believe a disciple should be.
Oh,
Have I started resembling Master after living with her?
My thoughts nearly wandered off too.
Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I already knew Master was old.
Still, there's a world of difference between vaguely sensing it and hearing it straight from her mouth.
So when she said it herself, I was happy.
It felt like we'd grown even closer, so I smiled,
but Master must have thought I was mocking her, because a fist came flying.
For a split second, my mind nearly teleported to a distant place, but I barely held on and reassured her.
Obviously, it wasn't sincere—it was just her temper flaring up.
Master has a warm heart.
Look, even now, as I'm face-down on the floor groaning, isn't she fidgeting anxiously over there?
Still, it did hurt, so I kept lying there, and Master glanced at me and asked,
"Ahem, you okay?"
"...Yes."
After some time passed and I really was fine, I tried to get up,
but then I felt Master's hand gently stroking my back.
I stopped my motion and planted my face back on the ground.
Her love for me seemed to seep from that touch,
and that affectionate hand felt so sweet.
Even if it wasn't the kind of affection I wanted.
"Sorry, my disciple. As your Master, I should be like a parent to you, but I let my temper get the best of me."
She truly meant it as an apology, but I hated hearing those words from her.
"I was the one who said master-disciple as one."
Master-disciple as one—the mere sound of it made my face scrunch up.
'That damn master-disciple as one.'
Who the hell told Master that phrase?
I wish they'd come back and tell her it's wrong.
I might seem oversensitive, but I have my reasons.
The reason that phrase makes me bristle:
One day, when I was still a kid playfully testing boundaries to get closer to Master,
she brought up this unfamiliar saying—master-disciple as one—and demanded the proper respect.
She gave a reasonable explanation, but basically, she was telling me to stop teasing her, promising she'd fulfill her role properly too.
After that, I did start listening to her better—half because it made sense.
'Only half, though.'
Master and sovereign are on equal footing, sure, but not parent.
Lest there be any misunderstanding,
I'm not rejecting it out of lingering affection for my actual parents.
After hearing that, I started caring for Master with utmost devotion.
I knew she didn't eat meals,
but I'd wake up before her, prepare food, and rouse her.
Of course, part of it was pure goodwill to help her, but there was a slightly shady motive too.
To keep her from seeing me as a child,
I took on every role a parent would have to fulfill.
Anyway, that blasted master-disciple as one—
it's the only thing Master ever says that I truly dislike.
I won't hear it from now on either.
I don't want parents.
I'm fine serving her like a king, without getting my hands dirty, holding her aloft—but not as a parent.
Anyway, I hate it.
-Heaven Cleaver
Did I go too far?
Nameless is grabbing his wooden sword and heading to the training ground, saying he's fine now,
but that still-pained grimace on his face doesn't look fine at all.
'He started it by teasing me first, though...'
Why should I be the one apologizing?
Tears of my pitiful plight cloud my vision—
Of course, I wasn't actually crying; I was just pretending.
Sob sob—
Sure enough, Nameless rubbed his eyes exaggeratedly with his arm without even looking back and headed to the training ground.
'He's gone.'
Once I confirmed he'd fully left the house, I hardened my expression and thought about my age.
Me being 300 years old was shocking enough, of course.
But thinking about it more seriously,
after that much time, the main story might have already ended.
Which would mean Nameless is just a coincidentally handsome kid who caught my eye.
'Does that mean I can relax a bit?'
Of course, I can't completely let my guard down.
Whoever sent me here is omnipotent if not omniscient,
and no matter how I think about it, they wouldn't have dropped me here for no reason.
And recalling what Nameless said: the year he turns old enough to enter the Academy happens to be the Academy's 300th anniversary.
That's too neat a symbolic number to dismiss as coincidence.
So, does this world have an Academy tag?
'High possibility.'
At a point over 300 years later,
so far in the past that I can't even remember what I read,
I've finally gotten a clue about this place.
Cold sweat breaks out involuntarily.
Does that mean I've been making excuses and never properly taught him basic forms all this time, when he has to go to the Academy in four years?
Most works tagged with Academy have protagonists overflowing with talent—relative munchkins.
What about Nameless?
He clearly brims with talent at a glance, but is he a munchkin...?
'His master is me, isn't she...?'
This time, it's not acting—tears might really flow.
My own vows be damned; it feels like I've bungled the novel before the main story even starts.
As my mind reeled from the revealed truth, I made one resolution.
Even so, I'd trained to the bone for 300 years—
not figuratively; bones actually broke—so couldn't I teach him myself?
If it's talent even my lacking eyes can see.
'Couldn't I awaken it fully?'
Perfect timing too; I was about to teach him the first form, since his vessel was mostly formed.
I slowly rose and walked toward the door.
Normally, by now we'd be sparring, building real combat experience together even though I lack it,
but plans have changed.
I'd have to impart the essence of my life's work, everything poured into it.
I strapped the wooden sword to my waist and headed to the clearing used as a training ground.
There was Nameless swinging his sword exactly as I'd taught him.
The Three Fundamental Sword Forms, learned shortly after I entered these mountains—
excessively simple and clear: just slash and thrust.
Even that alone captured the essence of swordsmanship.
But it wasn't enough; it couldn't reach my goal of touching the heavens.
So I created it.
Beyond the simple slash and thrust that are the Three Fundamental Sword Forms' secrets, layering internal energy in folds,
perfect muscle control hammered into my body over 300 years—
a sword art different in trajectory from the previous 10 forms,
outwardly slicing the heavens, inwardly slaying gods,
which I named Heaven Cleaver Style God-Slaying Sword Art.
Now, I'd hammer it into Nameless's body, by force if needed.