Imperial Sword Style

I dragged the carrier up the wooded hill near my studio apartment and reached the outdoor fitness area overlooking the neighborhood. The moment I began reassembling the arms, legs, and torso packed inside—

【If you mean to carve me apart, at least give me a word of warning!】

Sir Isra let out a piercing cry.

"Would telling you have changed anything?"

【I could have steeled myself, at the very least.】

Not much different from a dentist saying "Say ah if it hurts," is it?

Still. I was a kind master, so I would play along.

"From now on I'll give you advance notice before I take you apart."

【If it can be helped, I would rather you not disassemble a person—ah, an undead—at all.】

That might be a bit difficult.

Hauling an undead around the city would not earn me any praise. Whether I ended up arguing with police answering a report or drawing penalty points from the Rift Management Agency, neither option sounded pleasant.

【I swear upon my knighthood that I shall never assault the living!】

"I believe you. Whether anyone else will is another story."

【What a fallen age. A society that refuses to trust a knight even when he stakes everything he is.】

Try not to judge by the standards of the land you once lived in, would you?

The elderly regulars working out glanced my way, then went right back to their routines.

【There are living souls here as well.】

"They've gotten used to it. It's fine."

The same people always came to this outdoor gym. When I first started undead-control training here I had eaten more than my share of dirty looks. I had bought so many bottles of Bacchus for them as apology gifts I had long since lost count. It had taken a long time to reach the point where they just shrugged and let it be.

Enough small talk. Time for the main event.

"Teach me the Imperial Sword Style."

【I warn you in advance: my instruction will be severe.】

"That's fine."

Five years of waiting. A method to raise my undead-control ability had finally appeared. Any training was welcome. If this cursed body could improve—!

【Having inherited the Heavenly Martial Body, your physical coordination itself should already have improved.】

"If that alone were enough for me, I never would have asked you to train me."

【Very well. If you are resolved, Sir, then I need not hold back in driving you hard.】

Sir Isra tossed a white bone. Without thinking I reached for the flying fragment—

"Huh?"

It settled smoothly into my palm. Before, flailing and barely snatching it—or dropping it entirely—would have been the natural result. Was this the Heavenly Martial Body?

【Why such surprise?】

"You wouldn't understand, Sir."

The humiliation of legs tangling while chasing a soccer ball and sprawling face-first. Sob. I never expected that simply catching a flying bone cleanly would move me this much.

【Cease your self-pity at once.】

Tch. She would not even give me time to bask in the feeling.

"What do we do now?"

【Shape that bone into a sword.】

"Got it."

Shhk— shhk—

While I carved the bone with my sculpting knife, Sir Isra picked up a long stick from nearby.

【Watch carefully.】

The tip of the branch rose toward the sky. I gripped the bone in both hands and matched her stance exactly.

Whoosh!

The stick fell in a perfectly straight line. Chilling. The murderous edge contained in that sword-path sent cold sweat sliding down my spine. How had she managed such a motion with a stiff zombie's body?

【Swing as I just did.】

Whoosh!

The long bone cleaved the air.

"Done."

【Again.】

"?"

【Do it again.】

Whum—!

【Again.】

After repeating it ten times my forearms burned and tingled.

【Hmmm.】

Sir Isra let out a dissatisfied hum.

"I'm doing it exactly the way you showed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me."

【Having adapted the sword to this body, it no longer seems to suit you, Sir.】

I could not tell the difference myself, so I simply waited. Sir Isra rubbed her chin.

【I shall employ a somewhat drastic method.】

Whooosh!

Right after my eleventh swing, the branch cracked against my shoulder and leg.

Damn it. So the "drastic method" was physical correction.

A groan slipped out.

【Too much tension in the shoulder. Why are you relaxing the legs?】

"I have to put power into the legs too?"

【It is the lower body that supports the upper.】

I swung the sword—bone—again, carefully minding the points she had corrected. The stick cracked against my arm and waist.

"Ugh."

【If the pelvis twists when you swing, the center of gravity shifts as well.】

How many more times was I beaten after that?

Crack! Thwack!

My whole body hurt. Arms, thighs, shoulders, pelvis, flanks—there was no place that had escaped. Yet something strange was happening. The more I was struck, the more I began to feel something. Not clearly, but with every swing of the bone a sensation seemed to settle deeper.

By the time I had lost count of the swings—

A translucent window appeared with the system messages.

【The Imperial Sword Style skill has been registered?】

"Yeah. But why isn't it the Isra Form?"

【Tsk tsk. Trying to fly before you can even crawl.】

"What's with the crawling talk?"

【The Isra Form is a refined style I forged upon my own enlightenment.】

Once I mastered the original Imperial Sword Style, I would be able to learn the modified higher technique—the Isra Form.

【Heavens. I begin to understand a little of my predecessor's feelings.】

Why bring up a predecessor's feelings here?

【In less than a few hours you grasped the essence of the first form of the Imperial Sword Style—how could one not be astonished!】

So the skill had registered because I had grasped the "essence."

I had known there were various ways to inherit a skill, but I had never expected to experience it like this.

【I had thought it would take several days at the least.】

"Thanks to the Heavenly Martial Body?"

【That as well, yet also because you and I are linked through the soul.】

Sir Isra ground her upper and lower teeth together as though deeply aggrieved.

【Even I required two full days before I could execute the first form perfectly!】

Ah. So that was the point that angered her. I was left speechless.

I had recognized the improvement in coordination when I caught the flying bone. But for my progress in swordsmanship to be so rapid that a knight who called herself the strongest on the continent felt jealous…

【You look unconvinced.】

"Well… maybe?"

【Command the small zombie once more.】

Click—

I reassembled the mini-sized zombie stored in the carrier.

"Awaken."

At the command a hazy light kindled in its pupils. The goblin-based zombie looked up at me.

"Uuuuh."

Let's see. Something that could serve as a sword…

"Here we go."

I placed a tree branch in the zombie's hand.

"Perform the sword style once."

"Uuuuuuh."

With a limp exhalation the zombie swung the branch.

Whish!

My hair stood on end. It was only a stick, yet it felt as though a blade were flying at my throat—chillingly similar to when Sir Isra had swung the branch. Even though it was a mini-sized zombie unable to generate proper force, the keenness riding the sword-stroke had not dulled at all.

"What's even more amazing is that I can feel it."

Before gaining the Heavenly Martial Body I would have thought the zombie was just doing pointless calisthenics.

【It is because you, Sir, have understood the first form of the Imperial Sword Style.】

Sir Isra's thought brushed my ear.

If my proficiency in the sword style rose, and if the number and quality of undead under my command increased… what then? The A-grade skill Imperial Sword Style. And beyond that, the refined style created by Sir Isra, reputed strongest on the continent? My undead would find few equals.

"Gives me chills."

Motivation was thoroughly kindled.

【The road ahead is long; do not grow complacent.】

"Who said I was relaxing?"

I could not be satisfied with this much. For five years I had endured hardship, desperately waiting for the day I could stand in the sun again. This chance had been hard-won. Did she think I would let it go easily?

"I can do this all day."

【May that zeal endure.】

Sir Isra twisted her cheek in what might have been a smile.

The next day.

"Hwaaaaaah."

I opened my eyes and stretched long. What was this? My body felt incredibly refreshed. Until I fell asleep I had been in agony as though dying, yet the moment I woke the fatigue had vanished as if I had returned to elementary-school days.

【Courtesy of the Heavenly Martial Body.】

A sharp thought stabbed into my mind. Sir Isra stood beside the bed, looking down at me.

"Were you standing there all night?"

【Guarding you is my duty.】

"From now on, shut off your senses a bit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and rest."

【I shall consider it.】

Not for her sake. Having a zombie standing watch next to the bed made for bad dreams.

Even so, a silly smile slipped past my lips.

【Why do you smile?】

"Because it wasn't a dream."

I had met a soul from another world, escaped the clumsy body that had been a heavenly curse, and even received instruction in an A-grade sword style. I had worried that upon waking everything might prove to have been a dream. It was real.

"Hah."

【From laughter to sighs. I know not which beat to follow.】

"Just keep standing there."

Taking issue with a sigh of relief—really?

I activated the status window to check yesterday's results.

The price paid in equal exchange for pain. The result of swinging a bone while being beaten by Isra. The rise in close-combat stats was a bonus.

"For the stats to climb this much…"

Even looking again I could scarcely believe it. The total stats gained while training the Imperial Sword Style came to fifteen. At E-rank you received five bonus stats per level, so this was equivalent to gaining three levels.

【The growth rate will slow as time passes, so do not set your hopes too high.】

"The fact that stats rise at all is already enormous."

There were generally two ways for a hunter to raise stats: leveling up, or consuming elixirs. If word got out that mere sword training raised stats, chaos would erupt.

【Shall we train the Imperial Sword Style again today?】

"No."

I had the Heavenly Martial Body. I had learned the Imperial Sword Style as well. Now that I had escaped my cursed body, it was time to return to my main work and test how much stronger my undead had become.

"We're going to clear a gate."

【Oh-ho.】

"Sir Isra, stay out of it."

【Will you be all right?】

"I need a performance test before the real exam."

Promotion exams were held on the tenth of every month. Today was the third, so exactly one week remained. To confirm how much my undead-control ability had grown, real combat was best.

【Hahahaha! Something like a promotion exam—this body shall resolve it for you.】

"I have no intention of relying on you, Sir Isra."

The loathsome fate that had held my ankles for five years. Breaking through by my own strength would make it meaningful, wouldn't it?

【I find that ambition pleasing.】

"I'm not doing it for your sake."

This was resolve. As a hunter. To grow stronger by surmounting the wall myself.

I packed the sculpting knife engraved with reinforcement formulas, a hammer and chisel, and whatever other portable gear ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I could carry.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

【It looks inconvenient.】

"No choice. If I want to craft undead at the gate—"

【What?】

"If I bring even one of you, Sir, there's no spare space left."

To test undead-control ability properly, creating them on the spot was the most efficient method.