Chapter 56
Chapter 56
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: This One's Getting Pulled
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Holy Sword.
A weapon I once wielded.
You don't pull that sword.
To be precise, it's less about pulling and more like...
Yeah.
It's like being chosen by it.
Weapons don't have wills of their own. They're just hunks of forged metal.
So "chosen" isn't the perfect word, but with the Holy Sword, nothing else fit.
'The Holy Sword was pretty great.'
There wasn't much to why I became a swordsman.
I handled swords a bit better than most.
But mostly because the Holy Sword was such an incredible weapon.
The Holy Sword wasn't just some shiny, extravagant blade. It symbolized hope, sure, but it was also unbreakable. And it even shifted its form to suit me.
Oddly enough, it wasn't insanely sharp. Instead, it was insanely tough.
If you asked for a sharper sword than the Holy Sword, legendary blades would flood my mind. But ask for a tougher one? Nothing came close.
Not even the Black Dragon or the orc warlords could shatter it.
'And the recovery function made it so convenient.'
There's a reason that damn sage keeps popping into my head.
Back when I was the hero, a saintess wasn't strictly necessary for me.
Why? Because the Holy Sword healed my body on its own.
A cheat-level recovery, like being under a saintess's blessing 24/7.
Thanks to that, I could stand and swing my sword in any hellhole.
"Hey. Do we really need a saintess?"
"Can a hero even say that?"
"Sure. I'm the hero."
"So what's your point? Did the saintess say she can't come with us?"
"No, it's not that. I was just thinking this sword might not cut it. Maybe it's better to leave her saving the folks in the rear."
Of course, that didn't mean saintesses were useless.
"You idiot. The Holy Sword only works that well for you. It's barely anything for the rest of us. Her blessings are the most useful for us. And if we break, the rear guard dies anyway."
"Got it. Got it."
The Holy Sword and saintess served different roles from the start, so it was only natural.
"Is everyone ready?"
"Yes!"
"Then line up single file and follow me."
The homeroom teacher took the lead. The class followed, unable to hide their excitement.
Even whispering quietly built into a noisy din when everyone joined in.
The teacher didn't bother reining them in.
She just kept glancing back to make sure they were keeping up.
We were doing swordsmanship another day, so today only the magic department kids headed to the Holy Sword.
Magic kids pulling a Holy Sword? But they hadn't pinned down their talents yet. That's why we did sword spars too.
Besides, mages weren't barred from the Holy Sword. It was about aptitude.
So the kids heading to try it out wasn't weird at all.
Holy Sword...
Holy Sword, huh...
It was a symbol and a divine artifact everyone coveted.
A "weapon" that had become too much the hero's icon.
We're still kids now.
But every kid in this class probably daydreamed about it once as a child.
Pulling the Holy Sword, becoming the chosen hero, bringing peace to the world.
Turning hero, getting the happy ending with everyone.
A fairy tale story.
There were actual fairy tales like that.
No matter how the era changed, books remained vessels of knowledge.
Academy kids would've encountered heroes in picture books young, harboring vague fantasies.
Having the Holy Sword didn't guarantee becoming a hero or a happy tale. The world wasn't that kind.
No one here could pull it anyway.
I, a hero who'd pulled it long ago and worn it ragged, wore a wry smile.
"Holy Sword. I'm excited."
The kids were thrilled just to get a shot at holding it once.
They buzzed with immediate hope over future hardships. It'd be weirder not to expect it.
Getting to grasp the object of childhood dreams.
How could they stay calm?
Finally, the kids reached the Holy Sword.
It stood crudely stabbed into the ground.
In a neatly cleared plaza around it.
One sword gleamed prominently in the center.
Until gripped by the worthy, the Holy Sword wouldn't budge.
No real need to guard it, but for symbolism, knights lined the area.
The homeroom teacher chatted with the lead knight, then called kids up one by one.
"Okay. You each get one shot to try pulling the Holy Sword. Go in calmly one at a time and come out."
The knights saluted with swords raised and stepped back from the Holy Sword. From a circle, they formed a straight path for the Academy kids—a magnificent sight.
A flawless corridor of crisp movements.
Respecting the young dreamers of the Academy, the class kids proceeded calmly down it.
First was Sung-chan.
His tense steps barely reached the sword as he slowly reached out.
His small, fern-like hand gripped the Holy Sword.
Everyone watched Sung-chan.
The knights who'd formed the path, our guiding teacher, his classmates, the onlookers—all stared with bated breath.
Sung-chan gripped hard.
Flash!
Faint light burst from the Holy Sword.
Everyone gasped in awe.
But.
The Holy Sword didn't budge, let alone come out.
Of course.
I knew it.
Yura skipped the Academy today.
Not ditching or anything.
That would've tanked her grades.
The Academy had a unique system.
For elementary ages, just divide by department.
Classes were like regular elementary.
Just slightly different subjects.
But middle and high school? More like college.
Pick classes matching your elementary-assessed aptitude.
Mostly electives outside core subjects.
So Yura had a free day today.
A so-called study hall skip.
Normally, she'd catch up on assignments or midterms.
But not today.
Studying wasn't on her schedule.
First, Yura replied to Cruise's message.
Third Life hadn't been online for days.
So to Cruise, she could only say, "Haven't seen him yet."
Even if she could help, Yura had her own nose to the grindstone.
Sigh...
With a long exhale, Yura typed her broadcast notice.
Hated it, but had to.
Oh, next day's a holiday. Nice pick, Yura
Comments poured in minutes after posting.
That many viewers had been waiting.
The day had come.
'Ah. Suddenly hate streaming.'
Fish fry day.
'Third Life. Hasn't been online, but he'll watch the stream, right?'
Obvious thought, but Yura debated ditching the broadcast.
Seriously considered, but knew the backlash would be brutal.
So Yura had to proceed as planned.
Meanwhile.
The person Yura watched most warily.
"Next!"
Approached the Holy Sword.
No one had pulled it yet.
Expected.
Holy Sword wasn't for brute strength alone.
Needed various qualifications.
Among the class, Seo-ah got the biggest reaction.
When it rattled faintly, many cheered.
Why react to non-swordsman Seo-ah? Simple.
She held a clear, firm belief: she'd become a great mage.
Step.
Stood before the Holy Sword.
'This isn't how you normally pull the Holy Sword. Wonder if it'll come for me.'
Gripped it.
Click.
And instinctively knew.
This one...
It's getting pulled.
A little force, and it'd slide out like a stuck molar.
Of course.
Just a boy now, neither king nor hero.
But once.
He was humanity's noblest.
The sword fit perfectly in his hand.
Familiar sensation awakened.
Closed his eyes.
Remembered first gripping the Holy Sword.
The tyrant who devoured his father, seized fertile lands.
To slay the Black Dragon.
I gripped the Holy Sword.
Under the newly risen sun.
"Hey. Dale, get up."
A red-cloaked youth opened his eyes.
"What."
He rubbed sleepy eyes. Red hair appeared. Isabella. The only other member of their two-man mercenary band.
The mage later called the sage grumbled.
"What else? Time to hunt the Black Dragon."
Mercenary Dale.
The youth soon to be hero rose.