Chapter 175
Chapter 175
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Wandering (?) Swordsman (3)
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"Lord Ronhart. Are you conscious?"
"This voice... Duke Torben."
The Prime Sword awoke to the voice of the Gray Wolf.
He looked around.
It was not a human field of vision, but that of an object.
The binding of will that formed the Prime Sword's ego had temporarily loosened.
He had become unable to possess the Gray Wolf's body.
In short.
Due to his weakened state, he had reverted to being an ego sword once more.
"What happened?"
Gorein, standing beside him, asked with a mix of concern and curiosity.
The reason for the Prime Sword's ego weakening was clear.
Something had affected his mind.
His mind of all things—the Prime Sword's.
A steadfast mental fortitude that held firm against any external pressure.
That was the essence of orthodox swordsmanship, and the Prime Sword was the foundation of that very art.
For something to shake the Prime Sword's mind.
What shocking event could have occurred?
"Ah."
They understood immediately.
"Gorein. Were you about to say something like this? That Rishir's innate talents don't suit orthodox swordsmanship...?"
"Something like that."
"Hah. Why didn't you mention such an astonishing fact earlier?"
Gorein looked at him in surprise at the Prime Sword's words.
"If I had told you this, would you have believed me?"
It wasn't an accusation but admiration.
His thoughts were along the lines of, As expected of Lord Prime Sword! You listen earnestly even to such nonsense from your subordinates!
"No. Of course not."
"..."
The Prime Sword acknowledged that he had said something foolish.
At that moment.
Gorein let out a wry chuckle, as if struck by a sudden realization.
"Then... what was said at the sword debate... it was true?"
"Oh, right, Gorein. You haven't heard about that sword debate yet. Rishir. How did he win that debate against the spirit?"
"Ah, Lord Ronhart. Well, you see—"
Gorein explained the sword debate with the spirit—what one might call the full story of the incident.
No matter how exceptional Rishir's talents, his swordsmanship achievements couldn't surpass those of the Gray Wolf, who had reached the 8th realm.
Rishir had only just entered the early stages of the 7th realm.
In terms of current realm alone, he was even below Gorein.
Intrigued, the Prime Sword joined the Gray Wolf in pressing Gorein for details.
They wanted to hear the ingenious method or technique that allowed Rishir to surpass the Gray Wolf.
"The key was raising the rank of his mana right at the start. That's where the victory was decided, it seems."
Is it okay to say this?
Gorein himself seemed confused even as he spoke.
"Gorein. We're talking about the sword debate, right?"
As expected.
The Gray Wolf furrowed his brow and pressed him immediately.
Fortunately, the Prime Sword stepped in to vouch for Gorein's innocence(?).
"Ah...!"
The power of rapid advance possessed by the holy sword.
That would certainly allow for such a trick as elevating the rank of mana.
Two pieces fitting perfectly together.
They nodded in understanding and satisfaction.
In truth.
Gorein was bothered by the part Rishir had mentioned—'parallel blue breathing and resonance'—
but decided to exercise mental flexibility, as probing further would complicate things.
Soon after.
As the atmosphere settled, the Gray Wolf broached the subject with the Prime Sword.
"How's the swordsmanship instruction going?"
Hoo.
The Prime Sword began his response with a deep sigh.
"...Normally, that's the reasonable assumption."
His tone brimmed with the zeal of an educator.
...Along with the educator's frustration.
Only after venting his frustration did the Prime Sword regain his composure.
"Then, do you plan to give up on that boy?"
The Gray Wolf asked the Prime Sword.
In a calm tone, as if he already knew the answer.
Astrology. Magic. Divine power. Spirit arts.
Even if mixed with many colors, his swordsmanship talent wouldn't fade.
On the contrary, it shone even brighter.
For it to stand out amid such a blend of powers.
The Gray Wolf and Gorein nodded repeatedly at the Prime Sword's passionate voice.
They fully agreed.
Rishir's astonishing swordsmanship talent.
All his other talents combined wouldn't measure up to that one.
With his dormitory training plan disrupted for various reasons, the Prime Sword began devising a backup with the Gray Wolf priest.
"What if... we let Rishir experience some挫折?"
Then came Gorein's suggestion.
"Gorein. That boy is merely an acquaintance of Palag's, with no real connection to us. We mustn't cross the line."
"Yes. I'm well aware."
"Good. Then explain in more detail."
"What do you two think is the strongest driving force for a swordsman?"
Understanding what Gorein meant, the Prime Sword began to speak.
"Are you saying Rishir is in that state?"
Frustration.
The Prime Sword mulled over the word.
"Do you have a good idea?"
"Flaws..."
"Indeed."
"Flaws would inevitably appear..."
Years. Experience.
They don't absolutely dictate swordsmanship.
But they're not entirely meaningless either.
No perfect swordsmanship exists in the world.
Every sword has its strengths and weaknesses.
And those weaknesses become more pronounced with less age and experience.
Rishir's swordsmanship would be no different.
They were swordsmen who had reached the realms of master and swordmaster.
Their experience and years far surpassed any young swordsman's.
If they deliberately sought flaws, could Rishir escape critical evaluation?
The deliberation didn't last long.
With the Gray Wolf and Gorein agreeing to the Prime Sword's plan, they decided to join him.
For Rishir.
Hoping that young man would face frustration and emerge as an even greater swordsman.
The next day in the afternoon.
The Prime Sword's group waited for Rishir's training and morning routine to end before visiting him.
"You mean my true sword?"
"..."
The three swordsmen clearly saw it.
Rishir's eyes lighting up with interest at the Prime Sword's words.
They hadn't expected that eccentric young man to be passive.
But.
To this extent? So proactive.
So brimming with confidence.
What swordsman in the world could proudly display their sword before those names?
Accept their evaluation?
Even the Prime Sword and Gray Wolf would need immense resolve to bare their swords before each other.
Despite their vast experience.
Yet look at this young man.
No resolve needed—just eager anticipation.
Presumptuous.
The senior swordsmen couldn't help thinking it.
Of course, no negativity colored the thought.
How could they resent someone so young, talented, and confident?
They merely worried.
About the harm that absolute confidence could bring him.
In fact.
Wasn't he pursuing eccentric paths in magic and more precisely because of that confidence?
They hypothesized.
If Rishir had walked only the path of pure swordsmanship.
Could they still find flaws in his sword as it was now?
No.
It would likely be impossible.
That monstrous talent fully bloomed in optimal conditions.
Its explosive power.
Impossible to fathom.
That was why he needed to experience frustration.
"Shall we begin?"
They moved to the backyard of Goose Manor, where Rishir usually trained.
Rishir, standing in position with sword in hand, spoke.
"..."
The delayed response.
The three swordsmen's gazes focused not on Rishir, but elsewhere.
Dray Ye Mastien.
He had joined the group unnoticed.
Having run into Rishir's party in the hallway, he had tagged along excitedly.
His wide-eyed anticipation and heaving breaths were bonuses.
"Ah! Please, don't mind me."
As a great noble and the manor's host's acquaintance, they lacked the qualification or pretext to bar him.
Moreover.
His eyes sparkled too brightly.
Telling him to leave would bring guilt.
In the end, they addressed Rishir, leaving Dray behind them.
"Yes, understood."
"Yes? You mean Zalak?"
If Rishir used the power of rapid advance, the whole point would be lost.
At that moment, Zalak shouted.
"Zalak. Your wording is a bit creepy."
Thanks to Zalak's cooperation(?), Rishir swapped swords without hesitation.
"Anyone hearing would think I sold you to a smithy."
Rishir took the plain iron sword Gorein handed him.
All preparations were complete.
The three swordsmen steadied themselves, pushing aside the chaotic atmosphere.
Critical perspective had its degrees.
As long as the criticism aimed to help Rishir—
They had to nitpick but offer clear paths to improvement.
Among the many flaws under critical scrutiny.
Select those truly worth refining.
To be thorough, the Prime Sword asked Rishir.
Rishir had reached the master's realm.
His sword, no longer overshadowed, surely bore a uniqueness only he could wield.
"The sword that contains all of me."
"Demonic swordsmanship."
Before they could question the meaningful name, Rishir's body shot forward.
To slash an invisible imaginary foe.
Rapid advance.
An unpredictable surge in rank against the invisible imaginary enemy.
Followed by spirit power alongside unique magic.
Sandstorm and grayish-white flames intertwined into a ferocious whirlwind.
Disrupting the target's senses, then delivering the strike.
A killer's secret technique finished with sword aura.
"What do you think? Any parts of my swordsmanship worth improving?"
He had pushed harder than usual before the three, and the results were good.
Rishir asked with a relieved expression, blood trickling from every orifice on his face.
"...Swordsmanship?"
The swordsmen mulled over the word.