Little Bird
Anyone who wielded a sword on the Ardeena Continent knew a famous saying:
“Cross blades with someone, and you can read their life.”
I didn’t think it was entirely true, but I didn’t think it was entirely false, either.
When you actually crossed swords with someone, there was always something you could feel.
If their movements were rash, they were probably hot-tempered. If they focused on evasion, they were probably timid.
And it wasn’t just personality you could read.
You could tell whether they had learned swordsmanship the proper way or picked it up in real combat, what kind of techniques they liked to favor, and, if you pushed it far enough, even what country they came from.
More was hidden in swordplay than people realized.
Whoosh!
I ducked my head lightly and dodged the greatsword as it came in with such force it looked ready to rip my throat out.
This was a style that relied on technique and strength more than psychology. Its striking angles were strangely, subtly off. Her wary eyes suggested she was ready for attacks to come flying in from anywhere.
It looked like Greatsword Chickenshit had fought things that weren’t human more often than not.
She didn’t seem completely unfamiliar with fighting people, but she also didn’t feel like she’d ever fought with a greatsword all that much.
As I avoided and parried the incoming blows, I kept mulling it over.
Should I let her have a taste of this, or not…?
She hadn’t hesitated to swing her sword at me after that attack earlier, so I was tempted to say she didn’t need to be indulged.
Besides, I was an Apostle. Even if I died, it wasn’t really dying.
But if I let her go at me like this, she’d probably just charge harder.
Hmmm…
“Okay. I’ve decided.”
I’d only show her a fragment.
If she didn’t achieve enlightenment, that was that. If she did, then maybe she’d stop pestering me.
With that decision made, I cut off the thin veil of mana I’d been wrapping around my sword.
Greatsword Chickenshit must have sensed something was off, because she stopped the blade she’d been swinging all this time and stepped back.
“…What? Why all of a sudden? You’re not seriously saying it’s over already, are you?”
People often said that those who reached the realm of Master had attained mastery.
Mastery. Only two syllables, and yet the weight behind the word was impossible to measure.
If that weight had been light, then there wouldn’t have been so many people forced to bow their heads and fail at the wall of Master.
The realm of Master wasn’t simply a realm where you had to control mana well; it was one where you had to control mana and more besides.
Hmm… how should I put this?
Ah, maybe I should compare it to modern weapons.
No matter how good your bullet is, if you don’t have a gun that can fire it, it’s useless.
In other words, the bullet was mana, and the gun was the abilities a person possessed.
By abilities, I meant technique, body, soul, and so on, but let’s skip over that for now…
Anyway, in short, people who carried the Master label were the kind of monsters who handled at least one weapon of their own with uncanny skill.
And I was one of those monsters.
One step.
As I moved forward, Chickenshit tightened her grip on the greatsword.
“You scared me, acting like it was over.”
It sounded like a petty complaint, almost light and casual on the surface.
But her eyes were carefully tracking my movements.
She had to know I’d withdrawn my mana, and she should have been angry that I was either letting my guard down or looking down on her. And yet…
Unlike her fiery first impression, she had a cool-headed side to her.
No wonder she’s the strongest of all the Apostles I’ve seen.
I gave the sword a small beckoning tilt, meaning for her to come at me, and Chickenshit understood immediately and drove hard off the ground.
Maybe she’d learned something from our exchange, because the greatsword that filled my field of view was aimed straight for my head.
I suddenly felt wronged and puckered my lips.
I’m thinking this through so carefully, and she’s just swinging that thing with complete peace of mind.
She kept coming without hesitation, even with attacks that would have been dangerous if our skill had been equal.
“Haaah.”
Did she even know how much trouble she was causing me?
With a sigh, I put the tip of my sword against her greatsword.
“…Huh?”
The next instant, Greatsword Chickenshit was planted face-first in the ground, making a dazed little sound.
* * *
This was fun. This was exciting.
Well… not exactly that “marc…nae,” though.
Yuki cooled the heat rushing through her head.
Since she’d started Silia Online—no, even in all her memories—she had never once enjoyed herself this much.
Everyone who saw Yuki said the same thing without exception.
A genius.
Whether it was soccer, basketball, or kendo, Yuki had an extraordinary talent for anything involving her body.
In one day, she caught up to six months of other people’s effort. In a week, she caught up to a year. In half a year, she was already standing high above everyone else, looking down at the ones who were still desperately climbing.
What was a towering mountain to everyone else was no more than a hill behind her neighborhood to Yuki, and nothing she encountered had ever managed to spark her interest.
Conquest was only worth pursuing if it was something worth conquering.
Anything she wanted to achieve, she could achieve; anything she wanted to do, she could do. Achievement, rivalry, passion—those were emotions Yuki had never understood and probably never would, not in a lifetime.
If Silia Online had never existed, that would have been exactly how things stayed.
The joy she felt every time she swung a sword, the struggle of life and death.
Unlike everything she’d done so far, which she could accomplish easily, this world required her to throw in everything she had just to get what she wanted. Yuki became deeply enthralled by that.
That was why she enjoyed fighting Canaria.
Even when she swung with all her might, she couldn’t even graze her. And the moment it looked like she might make contact, Canaria blocked it without so much as changing her expression.
An opponent with no visible chance of defeating.
A massive wall she had never once faced before.
Looking at a wall so high she couldn’t even imagine whether she could climb it, Yuki felt her first stirrings of competitive spirit.
When Canaria withdrew her mana, Yuki had been disappointed, thinking the fun was already over, but then she realized she’d been wrong and was swept up in delight.
The sword that had been dyed pink like Canaria’s hair regained its original silver, but Yuki didn’t let her guard down.
If Canaria could be broken simply because she wasn’t wrapped in sword qi, then Yuki’s blade would have already reached her several times over.
Fast, but don’t rush. Strong, but precise.
A downward strike that made full use of the greatsword’s weight.
Before she knew it, a smile had formed at Yuki’s lips.
It was the most perfect sword line she had ever drawn.
Setting aside Yuki’s satisfaction, from a distance it was a horrifying sight—an awful, brutal act being inflicted on a frail little girl.
As she brought the mana-laden greatsword down on Canaria’s head, Yuki was certain that this time, Canaria wouldn’t be able to block it so easily.
“…Huh?”
The world flipped in an instant.
No, it wasn’t the world that had turned over. It was Yuki herself.
The eyes that had been looking forward were now staring at the distant sky, and the greatsword she’d had tightly in her grip had been flung carelessly a short distance away.
“Huh?”
Another dazed sound leaked from Yuki’s mouth.
She remembered Canaria bringing her sword into place.
And then, in the next moment, she had been sprawled on the ground.
Yuki couldn’t begin to understand what connection there was between those two things.
Of course she’d expected it to be blocked, but she never in her wildest dreams imagined it would be done like this.
“What the hell just happened…?”
Yuki wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand.
The people watching the fight were just as lost.
“…What is it? What happened?”
“Don’t ask me that….”
“Still, you’re the only one here who was taught swordsmanship by Gravekeeper… Canaria… Cana-ria… no, what am I supposed to call her? Anyway, you’re the only one who learned swordsmanship from Lady Cana.”
“If you watched my stream, you’d know. I never learned anything like that. Besides, I had no idea Cana was that strong, either.”
“Ah… well, fair enough.”
“…What.”
“…I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I’m telling you I didn’t say anything. But you do call Lady Cana pretty casually, don’t you, Journey?”
Fine’s attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere was a success.
“Ah….”
Journey scratched her cheek.
“At first I was scared, but the more I watched her, the more she felt like a younger sister…. So it’s hard to speak formally to her.”
“Do you have a younger sister?”
“No?”
“…?”
“More importantly, you were the one calling her Gravekeeper and all that so casually, too. Why are you acting so strange about it now?”
“Now that I’ve seen her in person, I can’t just call her casually. You know how you sometimes blurt out an actor’s name and call them whatever, but once you meet them face-to-face, you can’t do that anymore?”
“Ah, I get it. That kind of feeling.”
Journey nodded, as if that was understandable.
Fine asked cautiously, “But what if she’s actually way older than you think, Journey?”
“Huh?”
“I mean… it’s possible, right?”
Fine glanced at Canaria for a moment.
Even looking again, all that came to mind was awe.
So much so that the cape hiding that face felt like a traitor of the highest order.
Right now she only looked cute, with her baby fat still lingering and her frame still small, but even so, there was an elegance to her that shone through. If she grew up safely, it wouldn’t be strange at all for her to become a beauty who could bring a nation to its knees.
“You know it too, don’t you, Journey. It’s impossible for someone that young to have that kind of power.”
Among the strong in Silia’s world, all the ones who truly stood in the ranks of the mighty were people who had already lived enough years to be called mature.
That had been said ever since the first rumors about the Gravekeeper started to spread.
It was the line people used when they dismissed the claim that she might be a child, treating it like the delusions of a die-hard fan.
Back then, I had no idea. I never thought they’d be the ones who were right.
Fine thought it was funny in retrospect.
“Are you saying she used some kind of reverse-aging arts like in martial arts novels?”
“No, I just thought there might be a chance….”
“Honestly, saying she’s a dragon in polymorph would sound more believable.”
Journey shot down Fine’s nonsense, though he didn’t exactly fail to understand what he meant.
She, too, could tell that Canaria’s power was absurd beyond all reason.
If she really is older than me….
Journey suddenly felt uneasy and ran through her own behavior so far.
She’d wanted to pat Canaria’s head over and over and spoil her rotten, but thankfully, she couldn’t remember ever actually crossing the line.
If she had done something like that to an elder—especially to someone who might not be royal, but was important enough to have a nation’s name used as a surname….
The very thought made her dizzy. Journey swallowed the secret urge she’d been hiding and let out a relieved breath.
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