Chapter 99
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: How's the Weight of the Sword?
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"I'm not cocky with any opponent. I always give it my all in a fight, no matter who they are—even if it's just third-rate bandit trash."
I grumbled while shaking the blood off my sword and sheathing it.
So why'd he suddenly say that? Is a peak expert about to show up or something?
"You don't expect me to take on a peak expert alone just to teach me how bitter the world can be, do you?"
"No, even if the world isn't that easy, I'm not throwing you into something like that. What do you take me for?"
I rolled my eyes at the hand pressing firmly on my head.
"But was it really that hard?"
"You, could you beat your master?"
"Nope?"
"Now you get how hard that is, right?"
I nodded at the straightforward analogy. And felt a bit relieved. At least this guy wouldn't toss me in front of some merciless black path peak expert without mercy.
Two nights passed, we crossed three hills, but no bandits showed up. The seven-year-old kid was still stuck to me, chattering away.
Hadn't this kid seen me slicing people up? Well, being young, maybe her mom covered her eyes and told her not to look.
Fortunately, the dark clothes didn't show the bloodstains much. But the faint bloody stench was impossible to hide.
Yaaawn. I stretched with a big yawn, and the kid tilted her head.
"Sis, sleepy?"
"Nah, bored."
"Why bored?"
"Nothing's happening, just walking forever. Where are those damn bandits...?"
"Mom said you're working hard protecting us from them. Guess you like the hard work."
"That's martial duty. I didn't really protect anyone. I just cut down—er, sliced—nah, struck down whatever was in front. No big hardship."
I replied indifferently, and the kid grinned wide, letting go of my sleeve and clasping her hands neatly over her belly button.
"Still, Mom said to thank you later. Thank you!"
Whoa, I wasn't that polite at seven. Caught off guard by the bright belly-bow, I scratched my head and waved her off.
"Not now. Do it when you safely set foot in Bunsheon."
"I already did?"
"Do it again. To Uncle, too."
"Uncle? Who's Uncle?"
I pointed at Uiseong, who exploded: "Why am I an uncle?!"
To a seven-year-old, a thirty-something guy is an uncle—what, you wanna be 'big bro'? Ew.
* * *
In the media from my past life, there were always those clichéd plots.
The protagonist's stuck in a boring, repetitive daily grind, monologuing, "Ah, so dull. When's something interesting gonna happen?" And bam, that very day, some incident explodes.
Zombie apocalypse, world turned upside down—whatever it takes to plunge the hero into drastic change.
Not fun, exactly, but life's anything but boring.
Why think of that now? Because something similar just descended on my reality.
Turns out my words were foreshadowing.
My complaint about no bandits was duly noted and fulfilled. A bit too thoroughly.
I watched with unease as a horde of bandits swarmed—far too many for me alone.
The previous ones were such weaklings I'd wondered how they couldn't cross this range with that many. Today solved that mystery.
This must be the devil's stretch.
Uiseong, who usually hung back arms crossed watching me, only stepping in for civilians, now joined the fray.
Experience or prior knowledge? Unlike my panic, he showed zero agitation.
I glanced at Uiseong cutting down bandits from afar, then swiftly dodged a halberd swinging at me.
Before, with civilians behind, I could go wild without worry. But with Uiseong fighting too, that was out.
Now I had to protect not just myself, but ten people too. Annoying.
Having lives to guard behind me was more distracting, nerve-wracking, burdensome than I'd thought.
Even mid-clash, spotting one heading for civilians meant shaking off my foe and rushing over. Even if attacked from both sides, to shield those behind, I'd take the hard path over the easy one.
And the worst dilemma of all...
Twisting to dodge a sword—then froze at a child's cry from behind.
The finishing blow:
"Sohee!"
A scream rang out, followed by frantic footsteps rushing from behind. If I dodged, this blade would hit the mother and daughter full-on.
'Thank you!'
Of all the damn hallucinations now. Snorting, I planted my feet firm.
As I swung my sword—crunch! The blade pierced my shoulder. Hurt like hell, but bearable compared to that poisoned dagger in my side before.
No, I had to think that. If I collapsed, the pair behind me was done for.
Small comfort: the bandit's chest was deeply gashed by my swing, soaked in blood.
Grinding my teeth against gruesome what-ifs—the blade might nick a nerve if it slipped lower. Could lose my right arm forever.
My right arm versus two lives. One hell of a shitty scale. I knew which way it tipped, but admitting it sucked.
Fuck, fuck! Damn it! What 'thank you'? I vaguely foresaw this, told her to say it in Bunsheon. Why make me feel this shitty guilt?
Muttering curses, I switched the sword to my left hand to pierce his vitals—when.
"Gah!"
His body crumpled suddenly, sword hand dropping limp.
I yanked the blade from my shoulder, enduring agony, testing the arm. Excruciating, but it moved fine.
Finally, I gasped ragged breaths, body drenched in cold sweat.
Blood from my wound mixed with blade blood, staining my hand red. Droplets plopped to the ground.
"Biyeon."
Uiseong stood before me, having beheaded my attacker from behind. All bandits down, fight over.
"Still feel light?"
At the question, I glanced at my trembling sword hand—like holding something impossibly heavy.
When did the bloodied sword first feel heavy?
When the cry came from behind? When I sensed the two presences?
When I took a fully dodgeable strike head-on?
The weight of lives behind me—ones I'd dismissed till now, not even specially valued—hit home perfectly. And so...
"...No."
I spat it out like a confession.
"...It's heavy."
The sword's weight I'd realized too late. Choosing this path—not just killing, but protecting—meant bearing lives' weight.
"Heavy... really..."
Clang. The sword hit the dirt. A large hand clamped my still-bleeding shoulder, stemming the flow.
My throat tightened. But only hollow laughs escaped, not tears.
"Hahaha... Jianghu tour my ass... This is why you brought me, huh?"
"Hoped you'd learn the sword's weight."
Good thing we lost nothing.
Lose the arm, or fail to protect—I'd have shattered either way. My mind's not that tough.
"Don't hate you for it, Uncle. So quit with those eyes."
Facing his guilt-and-worry-shaking gaze, I pressed my forehead to his shoulder.
"Uncle, on the way back, treat me to all the good food you can."
"Was gonna anyway, you rascal."
Uiseong's tight embrace trembled faintly.
"Braced for you getting hurt, even hating me... Guess this is parental instinct..."
"Wow, so not like you, Uncle Uiseong. Thought you'd say, 'Trembling over this scratch? How you gonna survive Jianghu?'"
"Shut it, rascal..."
His voice came out wet.
Blood stanched, he applied salve, then tore cloth from the rescued kid's mom to bind the wound tight.
Damn, do those bastards clean their swords after rats and men? Fretting sepsis, tetanus—the kid plopped beside me.
"Sis."
"Yeah? You little grudge-holder."
Thanks to you, sis nearly lost an arm. Almost became a one-armed redhead swordsman or did a jade maiden dive—one or the other, haha.
"I wanna learn the sword too."
Out-of-nowhere, I ruffled her hair playfully.
"Why, sis look that cool? But don't pick this path just 'cause someone looks cool. Learned that the hard way—don't end up with a rag-shoulder like me. Etch it in early."
"No, I wanna get strong, protect myself... and others like you, sis."
The seven-year-old fidgeted her fingers, vowing. Me, fifteen and only now getting it, just scratched my head.
Never seen such a Righteous Faction sapling.