Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Falling Heaven
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That name alone was utterly arrogant,
a sword art so fearsome that others hesitated even to utter it.
God-Slaying Sword Art
As the name implies, my sword was not made for battles against people.
Of course, it could be used that way, but wouldn't the simple Three Fundamental Sword Forms suit human duels far better?
As for why I didn't craft it as a technique for fighting people... well, there's a lot to say about that.
As you know, I'm a coward.
The reason is that I lack the courage to cut down a person.
Moreover, with no one around me back then,
the only target for my resentment at being dropped into this world was the gods.
I had lived a satisfying life in my previous existence.
And I had never, of my own will, caused harm or injury to another.
The very fact of me being cast into this world lacks any logic,
so who else but a god could have shoved someone like me here?
Thus, God-Slaying.
My sword demands perfect form from its very first stance,
meaning it can't be adapted on the fly to suit the moment.
Unless the posture is controlled to the absolute extreme.
Otherwise, it produces only mediocre power, far short of what I desire.
The reason is clear: the first stance isn't aimed at slashing the opponent.
After all, how could a mere created being slash a god to begin with?
Back then, just devising this sword art alone
brought down what felt like divine punishment—agony as if my body was being torn apart, followed by blacking out.
A chuckle slipped out at the absurd memory.
'Divine punishment, my ass.'
Now, my very existence is an unforgivable rebellion against my creator,
and yet here I am, that rebel, still alive and well?
I glared up at the sky, scowling.
'Someday, to escape this place for good.'
I'll cut you down.
I reaffirmed my resolve once more.
Only after Nameless finished swinging his sword
and took a moment to rest did I approach him.
I'd deliberately held off speaking during his training out of consideration for him as a swordsman.
"Nameless."
"Yes, Master."
Breathing heavily and still catching his breath,
Nameless rose to his feet the moment I called, responding without a hint of disarray.
Impressive.
"It seems your vessel is finally taking shape."
"Is that so?"
Had I phrased it too loftily to sound profound?
'That's not the reaction I was hoping for.'
Nameless showed no particular response,
but in the end, his reaction wasn't the point.
My lips pursed involuntarily.
Normally, he'd be staring at me with wide eyes by now.
"From now on, I'll demonstrate a single movement myself."
"You'll demonstrate it personally, Master?"
Only then did he grasp the situation,
gaping at me with round eyes.
'Yes, that's the reaction.'
A satisfied smile tugged at my lips.
"Yes, just once, so open your eyes wide and don't miss a single motion."
"Yes."
Sure enough, his face burned with determination to master it.
But.
'It won't be easy.'
Even imitating it would take him at least a year.
'I hope he doesn't just feel discouraged.'
I was a master truly concerned for her disciple.
-Heavenly Nameless
Master's eyebrows furrowed more dramatically than usual, forming sharp inverted Vs,
her face mirroring the worry etched in them.
'What on earth is worrying her so much?'
Heavenly Nameless was confident in his own talent.
Not just because Master had praised it,
but because a kid from the village who hadn't learned a thing had cut down two knights without getting caught by the lord.
For some inexplicable reason, seeing Master worry needlessly filled him with joy.
Smiling faintly, he watched as she stretched her body lightly.
Was she about to show him what he'd seen at their first meeting? Such a casual thought vanished the instant Master assumed her stance and drew in her mana.
'What is that.'
To not miss a single motion from Master—not even the twitch of a muscle—he widened his eyes and stared intently.
First off, what he could grasp was that the stance now before his eyes was unusual.
It differed from the Three Fundamental Sword Forms Master usually taught.
To put it simply, it wasn't a posture for slashing someone,
but for pulling something down.
She spread her legs front and back to shoulder width, loading more weight onto her rear leg and bending her knee.
Gripping the sword not with both hands but one, she raised it behind her head with the blade pointing upward above her.
Her other hand extended forward as if balancing, palm open.
"This is the stance for the first form."
Indeed, it was utterly different from anything taught so far.
'But in that position.'
Unlike the basics she'd taught—where even solid defense doubled as offense—this stance had an aggressively forward center of gravity from the start.
It looked utterly defenseless on the surface.
"Sip—hoo."
Yet after a short breath, the mana cloaking Master didn't envelop her whole body.
It concentrated solely on specific areas.
To describe it, not for protection,
but layered extremally in positions that seemed meant to kill an opponent.
'Mana was always supposed to be invisible, right?'
Absolutely not.
No matter how sharp his eyes,
they weren't keen enough to see mana, which was invisible to begin with.
This felt somewhat alien for mana.
'And is "layering" even the right word?'
As if the mana had always belonged there, crawling as Master described,
it emanated a mad presence in deep black matching her irises.
Starting from her waist, it wrapped her arms, thighs, and calves,
and finally, incomparably denser and stickier mana coated the sword.
'Ah, this is dangerous.'
Even though that stance wasn't aimed at him,
his instincts screamed it was deadly—he wanted to bolt right then.
Forcing down his fleeing legs,
Master glanced his way and spoke.
"Do you know what you must do first to slash the heavens?"
His whole body felt drained, but he hammered her words and motions into his mind.
"You must drag that arrogant sky from above my head down beneath my feet."
Blood began streaming from his nose—
the mana flow was too vast for his underdeveloped vessel to handle.
"Remember this. This is the first form: Falling Heaven."
Her rear foot's weight shifted through her twisting waist to the front,
rolling onto it to add speed and momentum as she swung the heavenward blade down to the earth.
Boom—
After a moment of silence,
the sky began to fall.
'Beautiful...'
He understood why Master said she'd show it only once.
The reason lay not with her, but with him.
Gazing at the descending sky, blood poured from his eyes, nose, mouth—
every orifice—as he collapsed like he'd fainted.
-Heaven Cleaver
The sky halted its fall and returned to its place,
since she hadn't chained it into the next form.
In truth, the divided forms were merely segmented steps toward a single goal.
She straightened her stance and approached Nameless, who lay bleeding and collapsed.
She wasn't surprised; the first time she'd used this technique, she'd been overwhelmed by her own power, vomiting blood amid skin-tearing pain.
She wasn't the sharpest, so she'd repeated the forms—Falling Heaven and all of the God-Slaying Sword Art—relentlessly until the pain faded and they were fully hers.
Of course, she had no intention of making Nameless go that far.
Looking back, her vessel had been inadequate then,
and perhaps it really had been divine punishment.
What she'd shown was one path—the one she'd walked.
Nameless need only reference it and adapt it to his own body.
He didn't have to replicate it exactly; in fact, she hoped he wouldn't.
Killing one's creator god? That was rebellion incarnate.
She didn't want Nameless committing the same sin.
She laid his unconscious head on her lap and stroked it gently.
"You're talented, so you'll find a better path than mine."
For now, the goal was for Nameless to master Falling Heaven within four years,
and along the way, she'd drop hints about the Academy to bait him in.
No matter how vital the world was, right now, Nameless was dearer to her.
'My one and only family here.'
If he refused, she wouldn't send him.
'Though I'd guide him toward it.'
And she hoped he'd leave her side to see a wider world.
Gently stroking his hair with a soft smile,
she carefully set Nameless down and prepared to greet a guest who hadn't visited since he'd arrived.
Since yesterday, someone with an unsettling aura had been approaching the mountain.
She'd planned to leave Nameless at home for the meeting anyway,
so his unconscious state made the timing perfect.
She rose, following the unpleasant sensation prickling her skin.
It wasn't far—just past the cabin she'd built, a bit further up toward the peak, there was a cave.
And there it was.
"What are you?"
The fate of the world, its very flow, began to twist.