Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Ego Sword
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'Hm?'
Rishir suddenly felt a foreign presence.
Something had entered his inner world and taken root there.
It was a sensation similar to when Berbandes had abruptly possessed him.
-Hey.
Once again, a woman's voice echoed in his mind at that moment.
'No way... Is this Rodan's master's voice...?'
Rishir belatedly realized the identity of the intruder in his inner world.
For some unknown reason, the sword's ego seemed to have transferred into his inner world.
-Insolent brat. How long do you plan to ignore me?
It was an unconscious action.
Rishir focused his mind on tracing the source of the voice, diving into his inner world.
A pure white world where nothing existed.
There stood a tall woman with her arms crossed.
Her short hair, tinged with a dark blue hue, harmonized with her haughty expression.
Rishir immediately recognized her as Rodan's master.
The same lawless intimidation he'd felt from Rodan emanated from her as well.
"There we go. Now I can finally see your face clearly. You're cuter than I expected."
A faint smile played on her lips.
"What are you standing there dumbfounded for? Introduce yourself to your future master."
"..."
Rishir's brow furrowed.
Your future master?
What about your current disciple?
"Wasn't your disciple Rodan?"
"Cute kid, isn't he?"
Cute?
Rishir doubted his own ears.
"But he's too soft."
Too soft?
Rishir doubted his ears again.
"When it comes to the sword, teach him one thing and he grasps ten. But that pathetic personality of his never improved. I have no idea when he'll stop being just a strong brute."
"Ah..."
He could guess what was going on.
For example, it was like this:
She'd grown fed up with Rodan's arrogant personality and decided to abandon him.
Having been caught up in the natural disaster known as Rodan once before, Rishir could deeply empathize with her feelings.
"Definitely, he has that side to him."
"..."
She gave Rishir a meaningful look, then smirked slyly.
"Right? Even you see it that way. Well, from the perspective of 'people like us,' there's no one as dim-witted and half-baked as that guy."
"?"
Rishir felt a brief sense of incongruity.
Her demeanor didn't quite fit the image of a 'master fed up with her disciple.'
'No matter how disappointed she was, isn't she being too harsh on someone who was once her disciple?'
Moreover, judging from Rodan's reaction, it seemed she hadn't fully severed their master-disciple bond.
"If you take me as your disciple... what about Rodan?"
Even when talking about her own disciple, she responded nonchalantly.
"At first, I thought I'd take him back if he pulled this sword out. But the more I watched, the more futile it seemed. He'll never be like us. A defective half-breed. I misjudged him."
"..."
It was an astonishing situation where the master of Swordmaster Rodan was evaluating Rishir higher than Rodan himself.
Yet all he felt was unease and discomfort.
This wasn't what Rishir imagined a master-disciple relationship to be.
-Sorry for calling him 'my disciple'~ But when I took you in, Rishir, I didn't think about the aftermath at all~
'...'
Anyway, it wasn't this.
He had no intention of becoming the disciple of someone like her.
"I'll be honest. I have no desire to become your disciple."
"Your opinion doesn't matter. What matters is that I've decided so."
Even with such words, her attitude didn't feel arrogant at all.
It was the imperial demeanor of someone who, based on vast experience, believed that whatever she desired would naturally come to pass.
For a moment, curiosity overrode his repulsion.
Why was someone like her interested in him?
When Rishir voiced his question, she flashed another sly smile.
"Why? Because you're one of my kind."
"One of your kind?"
"I know it. How much blood you've stained those hands with."
"...?"
"No point pretending to be innocent."
Her sly smile twisted further into a ghostly cackle laced with malice.
"Why don't you tell me all about yourself? What have you done? How could someone your age have hands so soaked in blood?"
Overjoyed, she reached out toward Rishir.
Assuming he'd gladly join her.
As repeatedly mentioned, he was surely one of her kind.
The condition to draw the sword.
The condition to awaken her true ego.
It was a body and soul drenched in blood.
A murderer asking a murderer(?).
"?"
The murderer(?) tilted his head.
"What blood?"
"...?"
At his innocent expression, the murderer belatedly sensed something off.
Something was wrong.
Blue Lotus?
Ah, she's talking about Klana.
If she'd said "the crazy woman from ages ago who marked her kills by placing flowers on them," I would've gotten it right away.
Indeed, the Blue Lotus was a famous battle maniac and murderer of her era.
A ghost-like figure who wouldn't hesitate at anything if it meant clashing blades with someone and spilling blood.
Her slaughter only stopped after two Swordmasters joined forces to eliminate her.
You know how stubborn Swordmasters are when it comes to sword-related matters.
For them to team up out of the blue like that speaks volumes about her power.
...But thinking about it, it's ridiculous again?
Huh? Oh, not that.
The name Blue Lotus.
Even a crazy murderer like her gets a name like Blue Lotus, while a pure and innocent lady like me...
Klana of the Blue Lotus.
She tried to assess the situation.
A sense of wholeness she'd never felt while in Rodan's hands.
Now, she had regained her full power and ego.
Something possible only through resonance with an ideal owner of the sword.
However.
From their brief exchange, she'd bone-chillingly realized that the new owner was far from her ideal.
How could such a person draw the sword and awaken her full ego?
It was inexplicable.
But one thing was certain: he didn't deserve to possess her.
Having reached her judgment, Klana immediately tried to sever her resonance with Rishir.
The object discarding its owner.
Impossible under normal circumstances, but her powerful ego made it feasible.
She had always been the one choosing—and discarding.
Just as she'd unilaterally pulled Rishir into her inner world before, now she tried to unilaterally expel him.
"..."
"...?"
But Rishir didn't budge an inch.
He simply stood there, staring blankly at Klana.
"What the hell kind of guy are you?"
She shook her head in disbelief.
-Shing
She drew her sword and approached Rishir.
If she couldn't expel him, she'd make him leave of his own accord.
In reality, she was merely a weapon without a body, reliant on her owner—but here, she was whole, as in life.
-Boom!
Klana kicked off the ground, shooting toward him like an arrow.
Her body moved faster than the eye could follow.
By the time Rishir's eyes caught up to her form, a cold blade was already at his throat.
Just as Rishir's head was about to separate from his body—
-Whoosh!
"...!"
The sword sliced through empty air.
An inexplicable force had returned Klana to her original position.
Undeterred, Klana kicked off the ground again.
-Boom!
-Whoosh!
"..."
This sequence repeated endlessly.
Until the eyes of the ruthless murderer filled with bewilderment.
Finally, she arrived at one possibility.
Perhaps this wasn't her inner world after all.
"Impossible."
Klana immediately denied it.
For that possibility to hold, one premise had to be true.
Her ego being bound to his ego.
In other words, only possible if Rishir was her master.
Thus, impossible.
She had never acknowledged him as such.
Since becoming an object, she'd never had a true master.
The owners of the Blue Lotus had all served and flattered her, discarded at her whim without a second thought.
"Hey. Get me out of here."
She commanded Rishir in a chilling voice.
The moment the presence of the once-world-terrorizing murderer began to crush him—
"...!"
Suddenly, Klana's senses flared, warning her.
The world flipped.
The pure white space containing only the two of them transformed into an endless desert.
-Whiiiiiirrrrr!!!
A sandstorm engulfed the entire vast desert.
Its presence turned the scorching sunlit wasteland into night in an instant.
It was a calamity.
A realm of providence beyond human power.
And that calamity moved with intent.
Heading straight for Rishir, it roared like thunder, proclaiming its will.
"What, for real?"
Facing such a calamity, Rishir remained utterly nonchalant.
His eye level, his attitude—like dealing with a child.
Klana suffered a splitting headache from the cognitive dissonance.
When she blinked, the desert had vanished without a trace.
Back in the pure white space, Rishir and a tiny spirit faced each other.
Then, Rishir and the tiny spirit's gazes turned to Klana.
Klana instinctively stepped back.
"Wh-what the..."
A trembling voice leaked from the ruthless murderer's lips.
Just where the hell was this place?
And who the hell were they?
"...!"
Another 'incomprehensible' presence assailed her then.
Klana's gaze drifted into empty space.
As if seeing something where nothing was.
"Affinity rate...?"
"Hey!"
"...Huh? Oh."
Rishir snapped back to reality at Rodan's call.
About three minutes had passed since he'd gripped the ego sword and zoned out.
"What is it? What's going on!?"
The Swordmaster of Outer Blade spoke, his composure shattered.
He'd sensed something off from Rishir's unusual reaction.
"Did you... hear my master's voice!?"
"...Yes, I did."
"...!"
Rodan rushed over and grabbed Rishir's shoulders urgently.
"What did she say? What!?"
"..."
Rishir averted his gaze from Rodan and replied.
"She said she wants me as her disciple."
"What?"
His master's taking a new disciple?
When I'm right here?
The Swordmaster of Outer Blade's eyes shook violently.