Chapter 7
Chapter 7
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: An Opportunity More Precious Than Life (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ever since that day, Shirone had felt a prickling on the back of his neck. He never knew when Rian might come for revenge.
But he never showed up. Rumor had it that he'd been caught by the sword master and dragged off to the mountains.
Only after a month passed could he finally breathe a sigh of relief. Emotions were volatile; with time, even major incidents could start to feel trivial. Even if Rian returned, he likely wouldn't be as furious as before.
With a lightened heart, Shirone read the founding history of his homeland, the Kingdom of Tormia.
The number of books he had devoured in four months was 82. It wasn't a huge number, but considering it had taken him 20 days to finish the first one, it was remarkable growth.
Recently, Shirone's reading speed had increased exponentially, averaging only 20 seconds per page.
Unfamiliar sections might take a minute, but familiar ones took less than 10 seconds.
This was a natural phenomenon when focusing on a single field. The authors themselves had gained their knowledge from other books, so no text was ever entirely new.
Once he passed the 200-book mark—the tipping point for grasping the overall context—he felt he could finish the remaining 650 books at a speed incomparable to before.
Shirone's favorite part of the history books was the accounts of mages' exploits. If scholars were those who studied theory, mages were the ones who brought those theories to life.
Thus, the professions of mages were as diverse as the fields of study. On the other hand, scholars who couldn't enter the Spirit Zone could never become mages, making mages exceptionally high-level personnel.
Vast knowledge and keen senses.
These were the two essential requirements for a mage. Having already mastered the Spirit Zone, Shirone devoted himself even more to accumulating knowledge.
He suppressed his curiosity for miscellaneous subjects and focused solely on history. He did this for the boundless efficiency he would gain once the backbone of his knowledge was complete.
When that efficiency finally paid off, what kind of mage would he have become?
When he imagined such things, even the time spent sleeping felt like a waste.
As Shirone, having read the final page of the founding history, was about to close the book with a satisfied expression, the door burst open violently.
“You bastard! I endured hell itself, waiting for this day!”
It was Ogent Rian, returned from hell, to borrow his own words. His face, seething with malice, looked like the incarnation of a devil.
Shirone was amazed by his persistence. He could feel the same rage radiating from him as when he was dragged away by the sword master.
The only difference was the dark circles under his eyes and his gaunt frame.
“You! How dare you snitch on my hiding spot?”
“Is that really why you’re here?”
“Of course it is! Do you have any idea what hell I went through? I climbed up and down cliffs countless times. Whenever my grip failed and I thought I was going to die, I held on by thinking of my revenge!”
Shirone began to feel uneasy. If Rian had nurtured his hatred day by day, then in his eyes, Shirone must look worse than a sworn enemy.
“Aren't you going to answer? I asked why you snitched, you cowardly bastard!”
“I didn’t snitch. I just told the truth.”
“Haha! Told the truth? Then how about I tell the head butler the truth about what you did? Your life would be over! You get that?”
Faced with such absurd reasoning, Shirone gave up on trying to persuade him. He had learned the hard way just how different the mindsets of nobles and commoners were. The best course of action was to avoid escalating the situation.
“If I have sinned, I will gladly accept my punishment. What would you have me do?”
Rian was slightly taken aback. The boy clearly looked like a common steward who had just joined the family, yet he was acting so composed.
“So now even the stewards are looking down on me, is that it? Fine. I’ll make you feel the exact same pain I went through. Follow me.”
Shirone was practically dragged along by Rian. It seemed he planned to take him somewhere secluded and beat him to a pulp. The memory of what had happened with the thugs four years ago resurfaced, and his stomach churned.
‘Still, it’s better than dying. If he hits me, I’ll take it. If he torments me, I’ll endure it.’
He couldn't let the opportunity his parents had risked their lives to give him go to waste. Whenever fear washed over him, he thought of home. He imagined his father and mother enjoying a meal together.
The place Rian took him to was a small training ground. Befitting a family that revered martial arts, the estate had several training grounds of various sizes. The one they had arrived at was Rian’s private training ground, a place where no one would come running even if he screamed his lungs out.
While Rian lit the torches, Shirone waited, swallowing dryly. He almost wished it would start sooner; the suspense was making his stomach flip. Perhaps Rian was doing it on purpose. Someone who trained with a sword would surely understand the tension of a standoff.
“Here, catch.”
As the training ground brightened, Rian tossed him a wooden sword. It slapped into Shirone’s palm with a crisp sound. The grip of the wooden sword, which he was holding for the first time, was thicker than an axe handle.
“Why are you giving this to me?”
“Did you think I was just going to beat you one-sidedly? I’m not a coward like you. I’m destined to become the world’s greatest swordsman. I grew stronger because of you, so I’m just returning the favor. Fair, isn’t it?”
Shirone was dumbfounded. Asking him to fight someone who had trained in martial arts since birth was no different from telling him to just stand there and get beaten.
“What did I do that was so cowardly?”
“I hate guys like you the most. The type who sees someone in trouble and doesn't even hesitate to snitch. A good thrashing with a wooden sword is what people like you deserve. Come at me. Considering the skill gap, I’ll let you have the first three hits.”
Rian’s eyes changed as he aimed his sword at Shirone. His personality might be strange, but that gaze was unmistakably that of the Ogent family.
As if responding to the fighting spirit, Shirone found himself gripping the wooden sword with both hands. It felt solid to the touch, sturdy enough to easily snap a person’s bones.
In other words, once Rian’s offer of three chances was over, his own bones would be broken. All sorts of thoughts raced through his mind. He wouldn’t be able to work. He wouldn’t be able to read. His parents would be looking at their son, who had returned home a cripple.
‘What do I do? What can I do?’
Shirone steeled his resolve. He had to at least try. Giving up just because the chances were slim was as foolish as throwing his own future in the trash.
“Hyaaaah!”
Shirone raised the sword above his head and charged. His spirit was impressive, but Rian scoffed. His posture was off, and his center of gravity was a mess. It was clear he had never held a sword before.
Blocking Shirone’s sword, Rian shouted.
“One!”
Clack! A crisp sound echoed through the training ground. But to Shirone, it sounded like the footsteps of a lion closing in for the kill. He let out a yell to expel the fear in his gut and attempted a horizontal slash.
“Two!”
Hearing Rian’s hearty voice made Shirone’s blood boil. Was it really that fun to toy with a complete novice? Biting his lip, he poured everything he had into his last chance.
As the wooden sword cut through the air, the corners of Rian’s mouth lifted. A vertical slash, a horizontal slash, and another vertical slash. Even for a beginner, it was an incredibly simple pattern.
Rian held his wooden sword in a blocking stance. Then he took a step forward and shouted.
“Alright, this is the last one! Now it’s my turn—!”
Crack!
At that moment, the center of Rian’s wooden sword exploded. It wasn't so much broken as it was severed. At the same time, the middle of Shirone's sword also shattered.
Fine splinters grazed Rian’s shocked face. Hurriedly regaining his senses, he stepped back. Examining the wooden sword, he saw that the grain of the cross-section was roughly splintered. The impact hadn't dissipated and had instead reverberated within the wood.
‘This is… Sword Kill?’
The weapon-destroying technique, Sword Kill.
Just as there is no swordsmanship without a slash, every school had at least one weapon-destroying technique. The Ogent family called it Sword Kill, and its secrets were passed down only to direct heirs.
The reason it bore the grand label of a secret art was that it wasn't a technique one could perform with mere strength.
In a duel between two people, the absorption of force is as varied as its application. Therefore, to successfully execute Sword Kill, one needed a focused concentration of impact—a special movement and mental state that targeted only the sword, not the person.
For Rian, this was shocking. Even he, who had held a sword since birth, had never successfully performed Sword Kill against another person.
But what felt even worse was the fact that he was the only one in his generation of the family who had yet to master Sword Kill.
“What the hell are you? Where did you learn swordsmanship?”
Shirone dropped the wooden sword, of which only the hilt remained. To be honest, it had been a gamble of a strike.
With the first strike, he got a feel for it. With the second, he calculated the timing. And on the third, he made his attempt.
The Thunder Break he had practiced countless times over four years.
“I’ve never learned swordsmanship.”
“Shut up! You despicable bastard, rotten to the core! Then how did you pull off Sword Kill? If you’re mocking me, I’ll kill you right now!”
“It’s called Thunder Break.”
“Thunder Break?”
“My father is a hunter. Living in the mountains, I also started chopping wood from a young age. Since I wasn't big, I had to learn to chop wood with technique, and this is a skill I picked up naturally. Among woodcutters, it's called Thunder Break.”
Rian’s thoughts were in a jumble. A hunter’s son? He chopped wood? What the hell was he talking about? *I’ve held a sword for sixteen years. This isn’t a technique you can learn just from chopping some firewood. There’s not a single person my age who has pulled off Sword Kill. If there were, it would only be…*
Rian thought of one person’s face.
‘Ogent Rai.’
He was the second son of the Ogent family, two years older than Rian. He was also a sword prodigy, hailed as the greatest talent in the family's history.
Rian clenched his fists so tightly they felt like they would break. It was as if a phantom of his older brother had appeared, mocking him.
Rai had successfully performed Sword Kill for the first time at the young age of twelve. It was a joyous occasion for the family, and their father had thrown a grand party that lasted a week.
Rian remembered his feelings from that day with perfect clarity. And today, he had finally been surpassed, even by a hunter’s son.
“I can’t accept this!”
Rian let out a roar, banishing the phantom of Rai. He had truly tried. There was a time when he had swung his sword a thousand, even ten thousand times.
So why could that bastard do it, but he couldn't?
“Young Master, I apologize for my discourtesy…”
“Shut up! Nothing is over yet! No one has lost! I am Ogent Rian!”
Rian turned and walked to the edge of the training ground. From there, he drew a fine longsword of the kind used by nobles and returned.
Shirone felt a chill upon seeing the real sword. As Rian pulled on the longsword, it slid from its sheath with a liquid hiss.
The blade, catching the torchlight, seemed to glow like molten lava. After checking its condition, Rian sheathed it again and tossed it to Shirone.
Shirone stepped forward and caught it with both hands. He looked up, unable to understand why he was being given the sword, and Rian pointed a finger at him.
“We can’t settle this if neither of us has a weapon. Since you’ve even mastered Sword Kill, you deserve to be treated accordingly. One month from now, let’s settle this with real swords, right here.”
Shirone’s heart sank. He had pulled a desperate trick just to survive, but the situation was only getting worse. A wooden sword and a real sword felt completely different. Moreover, Rian wouldn't be giving him three free hits this time.
He could die. For the first time, Shirone felt the fear of death. The faces of his grieving parents flashed through his mind. It was heartbreaking to think he might not live to fulfill his dreams at such a young age.
“Young Master, please reconsider! I’ve never even learned swordsmanship!”
“That’s why I’m giving you time. You learned Sword Kill from chopping wood? I don’t believe it for a second, but even if you are that talented, you should be able to figure something out in a month.”
Rian didn’t think his demand was unreasonable. Rai would have been able to do it. He was seeing a phantom of his brother in Shirone. *That’s right, my resolve was lacking. With real swords, in a life-or-death situation, maybe the gap between us won’t be so large.*
“Don’t even think about running. My personal feelings aside, I can’t forgive a guy like you.”
Rian’s final words struck Shirone’s feet like a spike.