The Weight of the Sword
Warmth had settled deep into the Sunset Hearth.
Inside the hearth, firewood cracked and popped as it burned. The smell of grilled meat and soup mingled with the warm steam and spread slowly through the room.
Outside it was already dark, but inside the lamps and the firelight cast everything in a soft red glow.
Nia cleared the empty plates, paused a moment, then set another bowl of soup down in front of Roy.
"Here. Eat more."
"I'm already eating."
"You call that eating? You're just picking at it."
Roy lifted his spoon instead of answering.
Only then did Nia nod, satisfied, and turn her gaze toward me.
"Want more too?"
"I wouldn't say no."
"Figured."
"Thanks!"
I scooped up a spoonful of soup.
It was good. And my body was still perfectly fine.
Roy was quietly tearing into his bread, and Mari was slumped against her chair like she was melting into it. Kaya was quieter than usual too. All three of them looked exhausted.
I was the only one who was fine.
Hmm…
I found myself reading the room, even as I emptied a second bowl of soup and tore into the meat with gusto.
Mari looked at me and frowned.
"Irritating."
"Huh? What is?"
"The fact that after fighting like that today, you're still in good enough shape to inhale food like this."
"…Growth spurt, maybe?"
"What kind of answer is that."
"Heh."
Mari tore off a piece of bread and tossed it into her soup.
That was when Kaya spoke, quietly.
"When was the last time we actually rested?"
Silence settled over the table.
Roy set down his bread. Mari stopped stirring her soup.
Roy lowered his eyes for a moment, as if searching his memory, then spoke in a low voice.
"…I don't remember."
Mari let out a hollow laugh.
"Isn't that the biggest problem?"
Kaya gave a short nod.
"That's why I brought it up."
Roy lowered his eyes again.
"If we're only counting days we actually rested… it's been more than a week."
I paused too.
Thinking about it, he was right.
Ever since we'd come to Bresen, the days had slipped by strangely fast. Training in the morning, running requests through the afternoon, settling accounts in the evening.
In between there had been baths, meals, and the occasional trip back to the studio apartment — but almost no days when the whole party had truly taken off.
Roy reached a short conclusion.
"Tomorrow we rest."
"For real?"
"I mean we take a break from requests."
Ah.
So it still wasn't complete rest.
Roy looked at me.
"Your power — we can't just leave it alone."
Mari jumped in as if she'd been waiting for that.
"Whoa… finally a break. Magic training's in the evening. I'm resting during the day too."
"Oh, so you're still teaching me?"
"Don't get excited. I'm not doing it as a favor. I'm doing it because I'm curious."
Kaya set down her soup and looked straight at me.
"I'll check on you separately tomorrow."
"I'm honestly fine, though?"
"I know. You look it."
"Then why?"
"Looking fine after a fight like today's is weird, isn't it?"
I didn't really have a comeback for that.
After finishing his meal, Roy rose quietly from his seat.
He was staying in a small room on the second floor of the Sunset Hearth now, instead of a guest room at the Healing Sanctuary. The place doubled as a restaurant and inn, so there were a few small rooms upstairs.
Being here, where Nia was, seemed to suit him better than the Sanctuary.
I headed for the Healing Sanctuary with Mari and Kaya.
Even as I fell asleep, the sensation of Aura and the memory of cold still lingered in my fingertips.
A strong, unfamiliar power.
A body catching up far faster than expected.
Which was exactly why I felt I needed to be more careful.
When I woke, the first thought that rose was simple.
No morning training starting today.
Because Garen wasn't here.
No more going out to the training grounds at dawn to trade blows with wooden swords until I was soaked in sweat.
Whoa… is this what rest feels like?
It was a strange sense of liberation, like graduating from boot camp and getting assigned to a unit.
Well — not quite freedom, maybe.
Either way, I felt good. No — it wasn't just my mood.
My body felt impossibly light.
I sat up the moment I opened my eyes, and my muscles weren't sore at all. Yesterday I'd taken down that many Black Wolves, torn through the forest all day, even set off that absurd freezing explosion — and my body was fine.
More than fine.
I felt refreshed.
Impossibly so.
For a second I wanted to throw open the window and shout.
Aaaah! Good morning, everyone!
…I almost did, then barely held back.
I didn't need to get treated like a lunatic at the Healing Sanctuary first thing in the morning.
I filled the washbasin with cold water and dunked my face. That alone snapped me wide awake.
When I gathered my awareness inward, the Heavenly Heart was turning quietly in the depths.
And something rose before the thought of yesterday's payout.
Luce's voice from last night.
You did well, Siyun.
"Ahh… nice."
I muttered without meaning to, then cleared my throat for no reason.
Breakfast was a simple affair at the Healing Sanctuary.
Father Edrick, Riena, Ren, Kaya, and Mari were already at the table. Roy was eating at the Sunset Hearth and would join us later.
Riena studied my face, then her eyes went round.
"Siyun, your color looks really good today."
"Oh, does it? I think I slept pretty well."
Mari paused mid-chew and looked up.
"Why so loud this early."
"Eh, I barely said anything? Good morning, Mari."
"I'll wreck that 'good morning' for you this evening."
"…You mean the magic lesson, right?"
"Yeah. Look forward to it."
My hand paused on the bread.
I couldn't tell if that was encouragement or a threat.
Ren asked carefully from the side.
"I heard you took down over thirty Black Wolves yesterday?"
"Heh heh, well… it just kind of happened."
"'Just kind of happened'…"
Ren repeated the words under his breath.
Father Edrick set down his teacup quietly.
"Don't go running wild just because your body's holding up."
"Come on, I wouldn't."
Kaya's gaze locked onto me at once.
"You said that yesterday too, remember?"
"Ah… I'll be careful today. For real."
Only then did Kaya nod. Her expression eased a little.
Roy was already out in the open lot behind the Healing Sanctuary.
In front of him lay all kinds of things.
An old iron sword and a training wooden sword, a short dagger, a broken spear shaft, and a wooden staff as thick as a wrist were lined up on the ground. And a few dry branches, snapped from who knew where.
Looks like a junk weapons shop.
Whatever I was thinking must have shown on my face, because Roy spoke.
"Today isn't about winning."
"Then what?"
"It's about not breaking things."
He picked up one of the old iron swords.
"Before that — one thing."
Roy lowered the tip of the blade.
"Come at me. No Aura."
"What?"
"Just come."
I took a training wooden sword and walked in toward Roy.
Thinking I'd just tap and pull back, I thrust as if only sliding the tip forward.
Roy didn't retreat. He didn't swing wide either.
He stepped half a pace deeper and pressed down, with the tip of his sword, on the path my blade was about to take.
Thud.
There was no actual sound. But my body felt it that way.
The wooden sword didn't bounce off. My arm wasn't shoved back.
And yet my shoulder locked first. If I forced my way through from here, my stance would collapse before the wooden sword did.
It felt like the weight riding his blade tip had climbed onto my movement itself.
"Just now… what was that? The sword itself looked slow…"
I muttered blankly, and Roy nodded slowly.
"It was slow."
"Then why couldn't I dodge…"
"It wouldn't have felt comfortable."
Roy looked down at his sword.
"Heavy Sword. Heavy Sword isn't a slow sword. And it isn't a sword you just swing hard, either."
Roy's voice was lower than usual.
"It's a sword that uses weight. The weight of the blade, the weight of the body, the weight of the ground under your feet. You load all of it into one place in a single instant and crush your opponent."
He pressed the sword down just a little.
Again there was no sound. But my wrist twitched first.
"Doesn't matter if the edge is dull. If the weight lands properly, bones break even without a cut, and a block still collapses the stance. That's Heavy Sword."
I couldn't take my eyes off the tip of Roy's blade.
It was only resting lightly there — and yet there was no way out.
Roy spoke again.
"And when you handle that weight properly, it doesn't stop at simply crushing."
The tip moved the slightest bit. That alone erased every path of escape.
"You block the path with the tip, and you narrow their options with the weight you've loaded. The moment they hold their ground, you take their next move."
Only then did I start to understand what he meant.
Heavy Sword wasn't just a sword that hit hard.
It crushed with weight.
It pressed with weight.
It erased even the places an opponent could go — with weight.
"You can use Heavy Sword without Aura. Plant your feet, load the weight through your hips, and set that weight on the tip. Aura comes after."
My eyes went to the tip of his sword.
"So are there more styles like that?"
"There are."
Roy adjusted his grip.
"Slow Sword."
"Slow Sword… so a slow sword?"
"No. It isn't a slow sword."
Roy left the tip low and open.
At a glance it looked like a gap. Enough that I almost thought I could step in without realizing it.
"It's a sword you leave looking slow."
Aura settled low beneath the tip of his blade. Faint. It didn't flash, and it didn't threaten.
It was simply already there, first.
"It draws out the opponent's movement, then blocks that path ahead of time."
Roy's sword looked like it moved a beat late.
But at the end of the path I thought I could take, the blade was already waiting.
My body stepped half a pace back without my meaning to.
I hadn't even gone in — and it still felt like I'd already been caught.
…Got played.
"You make them believe they moved first. But the moment they come in, the way is already closed."
Roy gave his wrist a slight twist.
"Flowing Sword."
This time Aura slid along one edge of the blade like water. When Roy cut lightly through the air, the swords didn't clash — they spilled aside.
"Flowing Sword is a sword that lets force pass. You don't take power head-on. You twist the path of the opponent's force and let it flow away."
Not a sword that endures — a sword that sheds.
I followed that thin line of Aura with my eyes.
It hadn't collided. It had only grazed past — and at the end, the direction had gone wrong.
Reminds me of Water Breathing.
The feel of Flowing Sword wasn't unfamiliar. I'd done it every time in training with Garen, so it felt natural.
The tip of the sword stopped for an instant.
"Severing Sword."
Aura gathered not along the whole edge, but at a single point on the tip.
Whick!
Roy didn't cut long. He snapped it short and clean.
In that moment, a dry leaf that had fallen on the ground split cleanly in half.
"Severing Sword is a sword that cuts. It severs the moment an attack is still being formed — the wrist, the shoulder, the foot, the breath — before the strike can complete."
Not the attack itself, but the process that builds it.
I looked down at the split leaf.
It hadn't been a long cut. Like a brush past, everything had gathered at one point for an instant and vanished.
Hmm… how did he do that.
Short. Precise. No waste.
Ssshh—
For a moment, the sword seemed to disappear.
No — it hadn't disappeared.
Roy's wrist had only moved the slightest bit.
"Swift Sword."
The tip was already gone from where I'd been looking.
The Aura didn't linger long. The instant I registered the flash, it was already gone.
"Swift Sword is, as the name says, a fast sword. Not fast from start to finish — a sword that arrives first only at the moment that ends things."
My eyes couldn't keep up.
I only saw the sword after I realized it was fast. And only after seeing it did I understand it had already moved.
The result came first.
Damn… when did he even move.
Last of all, Roy shifted only the angle of his sword a little.
That was all.
But the path that had looked straight suddenly bent aside.
"Deceptive Sword."
The Aura flowing along the edge folded once in the middle.
I'd thought it was coming straight on. But the place I needed to block arrived a beat late, somewhere else entirely.
"Deceptive Sword is a sword that tricks. It hides the path of the blade and makes the opponent guard the wrong place."
I had nothing to say.
It was strange.
I knew I'd been fooled. But I couldn't pin down where.
Whether the Aura had folded, whether the tip had bent, whether the direction had been different from the start, or whether my eyes were just late… I couldn't tell.
You couldn't know this just by watching.
To block it, you didn't watch — you read.
Slow Sword drew out movement.
Flowing Sword shed force.
Severing Sword cut the flow.
Swift Sword arrived first.
Deceptive Sword fooled the eye.
And Heavy Sword loaded weight into all of those movements and broke the opponent's center.
"Then maybe…"
I paused a beat, then asked.
"Could you mix all of them together?"
Roy looked at me for a moment.
"You can use them."
"Oh…!"
"But if you mix them without a center, it means nothing."
His words fell short and hard.
"If you deceive when you should hold, or press when you should flow — you die."
Roy lowered the tip.
"That isn't swordsmanship. That's just swinging things around at random."
I couldn't say anything.
Having names for techniques didn't mean you were free to pull them out however you liked.
"Mixing a lot of styles doesn't make you stronger. You have to know which sword the situation needs. And you need a standard to judge that by."
"A standard?"
"Yes."
Roy set the tip low again.
"My standard is Heavy Sword. When I hold, it's with the weight of Heavy Sword. When I flow, I don't lose the weight of Heavy Sword. Same when I sever, when I deceive, when I go in fast."
Roy looked at me.
"Aura is the same."
A faint blue-silver Aura gathered at the tip of his blade.
"In the place you need, at the moment you need, only as much as you need."
The Aura didn't linger. It settled on the tip for a breath, then vanished at once.
"Whether it's Slow Sword, Flowing Sword, Severing Sword, Swift Sword, or Deceptive Sword — Aura doesn't replace swordsmanship. Only when it moves with the flow of the blade does it become swordsmanship."
"Ohh…!"
The tip of Roy's sword settled quietly down.
"If it's Heavy Sword — only enough to press the opponent's center."
My head thought it understood. My body still knew nothing.
Hmm… I get it, but…
My sword still had no center.
That was why Roy had shown me Heavy Sword first.
Roy picked a dry branch off the ground and held it out.
"Alright. Enough explanation. Back to not-breaking training."
"…With this?"
"Yes."
"This is just a stick."
"That's the point. Match it exactly."
I took the branch and looked down at it for a moment.
The first try went without saying.
The instant the grey light gathered—
Crack.
The branch crumbled halfway through.
"Ah."
"Fail."
"Come on, this thing's too weak."
"Handling the weak as weak is today's training."
"Hmm…"
The second try, I was far more careful.
Really — just a tiny bit.
This time the branch didn't break.
Instead the grain at the tip withered and flaked, as if it had dried out. The outside looked fine, but the inside had shattered first.
Roy shook his head quietly.
"Still too much."
I looked down at the branch in my hand.
I'd clearly used less. And it was still too much.
What exactly am I supposed to do…
Heavy Sword.
A sword that handles weight.
A sword that gathers weight into one place to crush, to press, and finally to erase even the ground an opponent can move on.
So then — what was weight?
A lump of iron?
A boulder?
Or the weight of the sword itself?
That wasn't it.
Weight wasn't simply something that fell downward. It was something you loaded into a single place.
From the ground under my feet, through the center of my body, a force that ran to the tip of the blade and settled onto the opponent.
The force that, the moment they tried to hold, crushed that hold as well.
"…"
Suddenly I remembered a vast hand I'd seen in another world.
The alien hand that blotted out the sky and looked down on humans like livestock.
When that hand came down, the air pressed first. Before the shadow even touched a body, the path of escape was already gone.
Pressure like a whole mountain shoving forward.
Heavy didn't mean simply swinging hard.
It meant erasing every place to run.
It meant crushing even the stance meant to endure.
I didn't wrap Aura around the whole branch. I left it only at the tip — like weight that had always belonged there.
In that instant, the air settled.
"……"
Mari sucked in a breath without meaning to.
Faint Holy Power gathered at Kaya's fingertips.
Roy was watching me straight on. The tip of his sword dipped just a little lower.
No.
It hadn't simply lowered.
It had been pressed down.
The leaves stopped trembling. Dust could no longer rise; it sank to the ground beneath our feet.
I hadn't even swung yet — and the space in front of me had grown heavy first.
A bead of cold sweat ran down Roy's temple.
There was no sound at all.
Kuuuuuung—!
And yet everyone froze as if they'd heard something invisible settling into place.
"—Siyun!"
Roy's voice tore through the pressed air.
Only then did I stop the force gathered in my fingertips.
The grey light clinging to the tip of the branch snapped off.
In that moment, the breath that had been held came back.
Mari said nothing — rare for her. Kaya drew back the Holy Power from her fingers and slowly lowered her hand.
Roy looked at me for a moment, then let out a low breath.
"That just now… wasn't Heavy Sword."
"What…?"
"You were trying to understand Heavy Sword… and you pulled something else out."
I looked down at the branch in my hand.
This time it hadn't broken.
But a thin mark remained at the tip, as if something black had pressed into it.
Roy looked at the end of the branch and spoke.
"The direction is right."
He was quiet a moment.
"The scale is wrong."
"…Was it that bad?"
"I called your name, didn't I."
"…"
My mouth closed.
Without a word, Roy held out another branch.
"Again."
"Again?"
"This time leave only a fingernail's worth of it."
I took a slow breath and steadied myself.
This time I didn't drag that pressure back in full. Not the sense of a mountain shoving forward — only the weight left at the edge of its shadow.
At the tip of the branch, grey light gathered, very small.
This time the air didn't settle. The branch didn't break. Only a tiny weight remained at the tip.
Roy brought the tip of his own sword to the end of the branch.
The branch didn't give. It didn't shake, and it didn't snap.
Only then did Roy nod.
"That's it."
Just those two words. And yet they landed far deeper than anything he'd said before.
I looked at the grey light left on the tip of the branch.
It wasn't that the power had gotten smaller.
For the first time, the power had stayed in its place.