Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: An Opportunity More Precious Than Life (4)
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The next morning.
Shirone headed to the library, looking exhausted. He hadn't slept a wink because of what happened last night.
With his mind in turmoil, even the sorting work slowed down. Thinking this wouldn't do, Shirone forced himself to regain his composure.
Being afraid wouldn't solve anything. He had to come up with some kind of countermeasure within a month.
First, he needed to do a background check.
The family head, Bischoff, had three sons and one daughter. The eldest son was a certified Grade 6 swordsman, and the second son, Rai, was a sword prodigy who was expected to follow in his brother's footsteps without a doubt.
Rian's older sister also had Ogent-level talent, but she had given up the sword because she was a woman and was now a pianist at the royal palace.
Looking at them one by one, Rian was the only one who hadn't distinguished himself. The family head had even assigned him a private tutor, but the reports only ever stated he had no aptitude.
“Hah, I really shouldn't have done that. I should've just taken the beating.”
Rian had spent his whole life being compared to his siblings, so it was only natural he'd lash out at Shirone's Thunder Break. It seemed not all nobles were exceptional.
“What do I do now? I'm in real trouble.”
Once he grasped the situation, his turmoil returned. Beneath his desk, the real sword Rian had thrown at him lay untouched.
After staring at it for a long while, Shirone, as if having made a decision, shot up and headed for the study.
Whether he fought or not, it was best to be prepared. Having lived in the mountains, he was confident in his stamina. If he could at least learn how to defend himself, he might be able to save his life.
He decided to put the history books away for a while. Instead, he gathered every single book related to swordsmanship.
There were technical manuals like 'Swordsmanship Textbook,' as well as philosophical works like 'What is the Sword?' and 'Only Humans Fear the Sword.' He also saw practical books like 'Win with a Bluff' and 'The Survivor is the Strongest.'
Shirone opened a book with the simple and clear title, 'Swordsmanship.' It contained the history of the sword and a general overview of swordsmanship.
The content was interesting even to Shirone, an aspiring mage. If mages had the Spirit Zone, swordsmen had something called Schema.
Schema was a virtual body, a diagram of the human form. Every human has their own body image, and Schema was a blueprint that materialized this image to an extreme degree.
It was said that a master of Schema could interfere with the function of a single cell because they perfectly understood their own body.
Having read this far, Shirone realized that Schema was the symmetrical counterpart to the Spirit Zone.
A mage erases the self to become one with the world, but a swordsman was one who delved ever more tenaciously into the existence of the self.
Shirone tried to experiment himself.
Feeling the brain's activity as it entered the Spirit Zone, he pictured a virtual version of himself in his mind.
This part was easy.
But the virtual body was dark like a shadow, making it impossible to see inside.
‘So if I lift this dark veil completely, it becomes Schema. That's incredible.’
Shirone picked up the book again. It was written that the methods for mastering Schema varied greatly from family to family, as did the areas they focused on strengthening.
While some families obtained Schema through mental discipline, others used methods that pushed the body to its absolute limits.
Some families used Schema to enhance strength, some speed, and others the nervous system.
Shirone remembered the red-haired girl he had met in an alley four years ago. He had been too busy running away at the time, but thinking back, her movements were not human.
‘That girl must have mastered Schema. And she was around my age. What an incredible talent.’
This was no time to be just admiring her. Shirone closed the book and fell into thought. Rian probably hadn't mastered Schema either. But there was a problem with him trying it himself.
Just as the Spirit Zone isn't magic, Schema isn't swordsmanship. Just as knowledge is crucial for a mage, a strong body was indispensable for a swordsman. This was because without a body to support it, the scope of enhancement from using Schema would inevitably be narrow.
“I already have the Spirit Zone. It would be faster to find a solution through swordsmanship than to learn a conflicting concept.”
He had to find something to protect his life within a month.
Shirone took out a beginner's swordsmanship textbook and turned the first page. He had unexpectedly started studying swordsmanship, but with his life on the line, his concentration was higher than ever.
* * *
“Aaargh! Aaargh!”
Dust clouds rose in the grand training grounds. It was dust kicked up by Rian's two legs. His heart felt like it was about to burst. Air couldn't get in, and the contents of his stomach surged back up.
“Ugh! Bleegh!”
What he had eaten for lunch came back up his esophagus. Rian just let it all out. The only thing he cared about was his two legs.
“One hundred laps! Pass!”
The sword instructor, Kite, shouted boisterously. Rian's changed attitude today couldn't have looked better to him.
“You beat your record! But what's gotten into you? Willingly finishing all your training?”
“Damn it! You call this training?!”
“What, you punk?”
Kite's eyes widened in disbelief. He was about to praise him for a change, but the kid was throwing a tantrum out of nowhere. Old habits die hard.
But today's tantrum was different from usual.
“I'm still standing, aren't I! Master, don't you have anything tougher?”
“Hoh?”
Kite was quite surprised. It had been a long time since Rian was this fired up. It seemed to be the first time since he had knelt before Ogent Rai's genius two years ago.
“You… Something must have happened, didn't it?”
Rian, hands on his knees and pouring sweat, lifted his head.
“Nothing like that.”
Kite didn't believe him. In his student's eyes, which stared forward with a frightening intensity, the illusion of someone was surely shimmering.
‘Is it Rai again this time?’
No matter how he thought about it, the only person who could make Rian like this was the family's second son. Had he achieved something again? But what? Hadn't Rai already mastered Schema?
It didn't matter. His student was Rian, not Rai. And right now, that student was ready for whatever he could throw at him.
“Alright! Let's really kill you today! I won't be responsible if you actually die!”
“Bring it on!”
Rian continuously swung a steel rod twice as heavy as a longsword. If he couldn't grasp Schema through insight, the only way was to push his body to its limits and force it to emerge.
“Hah! Hah! Hah!”
Kite watched with satisfaction as Rian repeated the vertical slashes. But as time passed, his expression hardened. Finally realizing something, his eyes went wide and he ran over.
“You crazy bastard! Stop! You're going to tear your muscles!”
“They haven't torn yet!”
Kite stopped mid-run and looked at his student. Tears were streaming from the eyes of Rian, who was swinging the rod with gritted teeth.
“Damn it! Why won't my muscles tear! Why won't my arms break! I can do more! This isn't the end! I'm not done yet!”
Tears welled up in Kite's eyes as well. The master was as frustrated as his student. Why wasn't it working? He was pushing his body to the limit of its limits, so why couldn't he open his Schema?
Kite wiped his tears with his thick arm. This wouldn't do. If the master started doubting, what was the student, Rian, supposed to do?
Kite caught Rian's steel rod, which was cutting through the air, with his palm. Having hit his master's hand, this time even Rian couldn't be stubborn and stopped his movements.
“Rian, this is enough. Let's stop for today.”
The warm voice made Rian's frenzy disappear. The feeling in his arms had long since vanished. Unaware that the rod had even fallen to the ground, Rian lowered his head and spoke.
“Yes, thank you.”
Kite placed an ice towel on Rian's shoulder. Seeing that his bones were unharmed, it was undeniable he was born with a strong frame.
Rian sat on a hill in the training grounds, staring blankly at the distant mountains. After finishing the treatment, Kite sat down next to him.
“What are you thinking about?”
“That my arms hurt like hell.”
A smile touched Kite's lips.
“Rian. In my reports to the family head, I have never once written that you have talent.”
“Tch, who said you did?”
“However, I do think you have talent. Talent isn't just about achieving things quickly. To strive and challenge something even when you can't achieve it. That, too, can be called a talent.”
“You don't need to console me. That's just a nice way of putting it. To be blunt, I work my ass off because I don't have talent.”
“Is that really so? A genius knows they are a genius. Therefore, they clearly understand what they are capable of. Have you ever thought that way?”
“Well... I know very well what I *can't* do.”
“Right. That is why you are not a genius.”
Rian looked back at Kite with a dumbfounded expression. It wasn't enough to add fuel to the fire; his master was making his aching heart sting on top of his aching arms.
“Stop it. I know that well enough.”
As Rian pouted, Kite smiled.
“But, Rian. Do you know what geniuses fear the most? It's effort. Because making an effort means you don't have it in the first place. You make an effort because you have no talent? Not at all. In this world, the only people capable of effort are those who are willing to make it.”
Kite grabbed Rian's shoulders and gently squeezed.
“Geniuses fear you. Because you have the power to seize what you do not have. The one who strives is the natural enemy of the genius.”
The natural enemy of the genius.
Rian liked those words. He didn't care if they were just words to comfort a pathetic student. Right, he just didn't have it. If he never had it to begin with, he just had to obtain it tenaciously.
Rian clenched his fists. He planned to pour everything he had into the remaining month.
* * *
Shirone knew exactly what he was capable of.
The fact that he didn't even linger on Schema and sought other methods showed that his disposition was the exact opposite of Rian's.
Nevertheless, talent plots the most efficient, shortest path to a destination. Shirone set aside miscellaneous techniques and delved only into the fundamentals of swordsmanship.
A month passed in a flash.
Eight directions of slashes and eight directions of blocks. Having become able to perform these two things to his satisfaction, Shirone finished his training.
And finally, he posed a question that encapsulated what he had learned.
“What is swordsmanship?”
The sum of all motion mechanics born from the intent to kill. It was also a high-level form of psychology, in that it divided life and death.
Shirone envisioned a virtual Rian and aimed his sword. The enemy would probably move from every conceivable angle.
But it was all just a lie. Only the sword coming to cut him down was real.
Shirone responded to the imaginary enemy with his imagination. His sword multiplied like an illusion, suppressing the eight directions. With another exchange, it split into dozens of paths.
‘It's not about counting the numbers. It's about feeling the whole thing.’
If you fixate on the trees, you can't see the forest. Savoring the possibilities in their entirety. That was insight.
But it wasn't as easy as it sounded. As the various patterns spread out like fractals, he kept fixating on attacks from specific areas.
‘It's okay if I can't do it. Just observe.’
Gradually gaining momentum, Shirone at some point completely let go of his thoughts. All sorts of possibilities began to be sucked into the infinite void in their entirety.
“Huh? Wha-what?”
Shirone stared at the world with horrified eyes. It was endless. The entire world was being filled with his and Rian's swords.
Overwhelmed by the unbearable vastness, Shirone dropped his sword and staggered.
“Haha, hahaha.”
An empty laugh. Just like magic, the sword was also infinite. He had experienced the infinite world that stemmed from a single sword.
‘So this is the path swordsmen have chosen.’
Wasn't he, too, walking the infinite path of magic? An unknown sense of kinship made him feel good.
‘Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I might not be able to come home.’
There were no regrets. It would be the same for Rian. Facing a crossroads of life and death, he was glad he could see a glimpse of such a wonderful world.
From outside the library, the sound of bells heralding the approach of midnight could be heard.
Rian, trying to obtain what he could not have. Shirone, who had finished everything he could do. The clash between the two boys, symmetrical as a mirror image, was now just one hour away.