Chapter 345
Chapter 345
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 345
Chapter Title: Divine Transcendence (2)
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“Form a square formation!”
The forty squad members gathered in a circle. In a situation where the enemy couldn't be identified, the most important thing was to avoid being picked off one by one.
Parka Kuan finally spotted the enemy.
Twenty meters away, a jet-black curtain shimmered, and then, one by one, white masks flipped into view.
“What is this?”
Figures wearing owl-like masks swirled like a vortex at a certain point before standing up in a triangular formation.
Shing!
Thirty men drew their swords at once, but the sound was as one. Seeing them standing perfectly still in the exact same posture, aiming their blades diagonally, he recalled information about a certain group he'd heard about during his commander training.
“It can't be…”
The Pungjang, the strongest swordsmanship group on earth.
*'Why are the Pungjang here?'*
The Pungjang were the royal guards of Teraje, the Empress of the Kashan Empire. For them to appear, there could only be one reason. Cointra, the leader of the Dark Order, was under Teraje's protection.
“What are you plotting, Kashan?”
“In the afterlife…”
The Pungjang's trademark, a collective killing intent, was unleashed.
“You will find out.”
“Aaargh!”
A scream from a member of the 2nd company was heard. Even to Kuan, the killing intent was immense. No matter how veteran they were, this was not an aura that ordinary soldiers could stand against.
“Tch!”
As Kuan kicked off the ground and charged, the Pungjang scattered like the wind, only to gather again. Dozens of swords created thousands of afterimages, and Kuan's body moved as if defying gravity.
*'Damn it. Just how many external gravity points are there?'*
The skill of the Pungjang was truly astonishing. They were men who embodied fluid dynamics with human bodies. His sense of direction vanished; it felt like he was crossing swords in the middle of a zero-gravity space.
But it was the Pungjang who were truly surprised.
*'This is taking a while. How many swings has it been?'*
*'Roughly twenty-three thousand.'*
Very few could withstand the Pungjang's swordsmanship for more than a thousand exchanges. In other words, they could grind any being to dust within a second.
*'How mischievous the gods must be.'*
If this world were one hundred percent perfect, all living things would have been happy as insignificant creatures. But nature always creates a 0.1 percent mutation. That 0.1 percent existence demotes the remaining 99.9 percent to trivial beings.
*'Born as a product of chance… a specially chosen being.'*
That was the impression one of the Pungjang had of Kuan.
Technique, skill, physical balance, the ability to manipulate gravity, the ingenuity to create new paths.
*'This man is a genius.'*
As the thought crossed his mind, the members of the Pungjang spread out like wings. Then, they became a gale, coiling around Kuan like a serpent.
*'Kill the genius.'*
The swords of the Pungjang consumed all space. They were so fast they seemed to approach in slow motion.
“Uwaaaaaah! Charge! Charge!”
At that moment, the company members rushed in. The moment they entered the Pungjang's radius, their flesh was ground up like meat caught in a machine. Kuan's escape from the blade barrier was almost instinctual.
*'These crazy…!'*
An old man named Kobi, the eldest in the company, passed by Kuan last. There was no time to exchange farewells, but the smile in his eyes conveyed a thousand words.
*'Live on, Captain.'*
Watching his company members get annihilated in an instant, Kuan understood why they had to die.
*'I see. At least one person has to get out.'*
Someone needed to inform high command of Kashan's intervention. Otherwise, more search parties would fall into the Pungjang's trap.
*'This is the best way. If someone has to survive, I have the highest chance.'*
As he distanced himself with the power of external gravity, Kuan stared impassively at the black storm raging in the darkness. Squad members he hadn't known for even a day, men he'd never even made eye contact with, had all departed from this world.
*'Why…'*
He felt something hot welling up inside him. A great flame erupted from a place he thought had long since burned out, leaving nothing but ash.
“Why the hell! Damn it all!”
As Kuan blasted away with external gravity, the Pungjang, who had scattered like feathers, regrouped into their triangular formation twenty meters away.
“You… none of you will be leaving here alive.”
The Pungjang did not answer. Their minds were racing, trying to process the unexpected situation.
*'The mission was a failure.'*
No, it was nearly a failure.
If Kuan had been determined to escape, the Pungjang would not have been able to catch him. The insignificant lives of forty men had set an irreversible precedent for the mighty Pungjang.
The Pungjang at the lead slowly raised a hand and removed their mask, causing Kuan's brow to twitch. The face of a woman was revealed, with faint, almost non-existent eyebrows and slender, slit-like eyes beneath thick eyelids.
“You are the first living person to see the face of a Pungjang.”
“So what? Do you expect me to be moved?”
“Join the Pungjang. We will guide you.”
Even for Kuan, a man acknowledged by the world, it was an extraordinary offer. Above all, they were the direct subordinates of Teraje, one of the three imperial lines. Accepting the offer would mean a vertical ascent to the highest position a swordsman could attain.
Kuan finally sheathed his sword and rested it on his shoulder.
“I refuse.”
The woman's head tilted slightly. What swordsman in the world would refuse an offer from the Pungjang? He must have lost his grip on reality due to the deaths of his comrades.
“The deaths of your subordinates are regrettable. But a new future awaits you. Do not bury your talent in the past.”
Kuan scoffed. No matter how great the Pungjang were, there could not be two suns in the sky.
“Don't misunderstand. My men simply fulfilled their duty as soldiers. The foolish one is the commander who couldn't control his emotions.”
“Then why do you refuse?”
Kuan's sword once again pointed at the woman's brow.
“I've always wondered, isn't it embarrassing? Calling yourselves the strongest when all you do is swarm people and cut them down?”
“…Negotiations have failed.”
The moment the woman put on her owl mask, the thirty Pungjang scattered like the wind and flew at Kuan.
*'Just you wait. I'll take at least one of you with me.'*
Having failed his men's expectations and survived, how could he face them in the afterlife if he couldn't even bring a companion along for the journey?
Kuan spread his external gravity in all directions and plunged into the Pungjang's storm. The movements created by masters of external gravity were less a battle and more a work of art.
*'I see. The answer was in a surprisingly simple place.'*
Kuan surpassed his limits. It was a state he could only reach because he no longer sought to live. This time, even the Pungjang couldn't help but be tense. The Ghostwood trembled at the demonic wail produced by dozens of swords.
*'The sword… can it be this beautiful?'*
At the peak of his ecstasy, Kuan's sword split a trajectory. A Pungjang's head separated from their body, and at the same time, another's heart stopped, pierced by his blade.
*'Two of them. I suppose I've earned my keep.'*
Fwoooooosh!
Realizing their comrades' deaths, the flow of the Pungjang erupted like turbulence. Having two members killed simultaneously was an extremely rare event in the entire history of the Pungjang.
Kuan calmly watched their fury rage in the form of a scorching wind. But they did not kill Kuan. Instead, they carved out his Achilles tendon as if it were the flesh of a fish.
“Aaaaaaaargh!”
Kuan screamed. It wasn't because of the pain. Everything that made him who he was, including the enlightenment he had just reached, vanished with the loss of that thirty-gram piece of flesh.
His moniker, the "Magician of the Battlefield," came from his god-like swordsmanship that could take an opponent's head anytime, anywhere, but it was only possible because it was backed by his genius-level activity and mobility.
Without an Achilles tendon, there was no genius. He was no longer the Magician of the Battlefield.
“Kughhhh…!”
Kuan couldn't stand up. It was impossible. Nevertheless, he stretched out his arms and crawled up the mountainside. He could hear the demonic wail of the Pungjang circling him. The voices of the twenty-eight, each uttering a single syllable, would be unforgettable for the rest of his life.
- You've become a mere insect.
Kuan kept crawling. Having lost everything, he did not fear death. But he could not abandon the forty squad members and give up on his own life.
- Squirm like a worm.
“Aaaaargh! Shut up!”
- Bark like a dog.
“Kill me! I said, kill me!”
- Go confess to your master. Tell him the Pungjang let you live. Go tattle with your tail wagging.
As the Pungjang's wind grew fiercer, he heard the sound of crackling flames. To Kuan, it was as if the world were on fire.
With his face pressed to the ground, he clenched his fists. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stop the conviction he had dedicated his life to from falling into the abyss.
“Aaaaaaaaaaargh!”
In the Ghostwood, now empty of the Pungjang, Kuan's scream echoed.
“…”
Kuan opened his eyes. His face was as impassive as ever, but his forehead was beaded with cold sweat.
“Damn it.”
As if held down by sleep paralysis, he couldn't even twitch a finger. It was always like this after dreaming of the Pungjang. He had to lie still like a corpse for ten minutes. Just like that day ten years ago when his Achilles tendon was severed.
Kuan, who had all but crawled out of the Ghostwood, lost consciousness upon his return and was urgently transported to Tormia.
He reported that Teraje was protecting the Dark Order, but as expected, it had no effect on the political situation.
The search battalion continued to engage in sluggish, localized battles while besieging the mountain range for about a month before being disbanded.
It seemed some sort of agreement had been made with the Kashan Empire, but from that point on, it was a matter for politicians, not something Kuan could interfere with.
Kuan could not become a hero. The incident of that day vanished into the back alleys of history, with the name of the Pungjang never even being mentioned.
The military did offer him the position of cavalry battalion commander. It was a two-rank special promotion, but he knew it was meant as hush money.
Kuan chose to be discharged. His spirit was already broken to the point where he could no longer hold a sword.
For a while, he lived like a wreck. Thinking of his men, suicide was out of the question, yet he had no one to turn to for help.
Then one day, at the suggestion of his only friend, Kiyora Ellis, he took a position at the Kaizen Sword Academy.
*'I can move now.'*
Getting out of bed, Kuan limped on his right leg over to the window. When he drew back the curtains, the morning sun illuminated his old desk.
Countless papers were scattered about.
"A Psychoanalytic View on the Phenomenon of Divine Transcendence," "Incarnation Technique," "The Correlation Between Will and Phenomena"—the titles were different, but the subject was the same.
In the corner of the desk, sticky notes with his own thoughts recorded on them were plastered everywhere.
Kuan gazed down at them with dry eyes before sweeping them all away with his hand.
He had collected all the data he could find on Divine Transcendence, but he still couldn't reach it. Moving the body with the power of will—let's just accept that as a premise. But what on earth is this "will"? Even now, he still limped. No matter how much he tried to walk properly, what was impossible was impossible.
*'Ogent Rian.'*
Who could have predicted it?
That a boy with no discernible talent would achieve what Kuan, a genius acknowledged by the world, could not.
*'Surely it's not something only an idiot can do, right?'*
Kuan shook his head. In truth, he already knew. That his own sword was already broken. The moment his Achilles tendon was torn away, the god of the sword had also turned its gaze from him.
*'Another year has ended.'*
Today was the last day of the sword academy's second semester. The assessment subject for the cadets he was in charge of was hand-to-hand combat, specifically wrestling.
Even if Rian could use Divine Transcendence, he wouldn't be able to withstand the augmented strength of Schema users.
Today would probably be another miserable day for him, but on the other hand, Kuan was also curious about the results of the past six months.
* * *
Tess entered the locker room with the other female cadets from her group.
Wrestling was an evaluation that inevitably involved close physical contact, and since gender distinctions were meaningless at the sword academy, everyone had to remove their upper garments for the assessment.
However, the women were permitted to wear tank tops.
Tess was struggling to put on her tank top. Her frame was large to begin with, but she was also so well-endowed that she practically had to stuff and squeeze her chest into it.