Chapter 136
Chapter 136
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 136
Chapter Title: 14. To the World of Agriculture! (5)
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# 136
#4 Their Circumstances: The Situation of a Certain Old Man.
"You're here?"
Melrn emerges from the door.
In his hand is an antique silver sword.
"Is that the answer you spoke of?"
"Yes."
Seeing him nod, I pick up the wooden stick I just grabbed from nearby.
"It's been a long time since I last held a sword... but I don't think I'll lose to you."
"If you're the former Sword Saint, you should be able to beat a nameless swordsman like me. Normally."
"Normally?"
I know he's not the level to be called a nameless swordsman.
But his opponent is me, the former Sword Saint.
Such confidence against me?
"Do you perhaps not believe my words?"
Well, if the old man next door suddenly said, "Actually, I'm a Sword Saint...," I wouldn't believe it either.
"No. If that were the case, you wouldn't have set up this meeting."
"Is that so?"
If those words are true...
Does this man really think he can beat me?
"As for this weapon, it's a magic sword made by a certain dwarf clan. They called it their greatest magic sword, one to be feared."
"A magic sword?"
Dwarves, the blacksmith clan.
Born solely for iron and fire, every one of them is an exceptional artisan and warrior.
Even their ordinary swords are treated as top-grade, and the weapons forged with a master's full effort are called divine arms, said to be blessed by the gods.
For such people to fear it as a magic sword.
"Is it cursed?"
"If it's a curse, you could call it that. The curse of recovery."
"The curse of recovery?"
"Yes. This sword absolutely refuses to harm people."
Refuses to harm people?
"Does it mean it can't cut people?"
"Including that, even if you beat someone with it, no wounds are left."
A sword that can't cut people or inflict wounds?
"Then why is it a magic sword?"
Magic swords are usually ones that burden the user immensely or curse the opponent.
A sword that can't cut people would just be a failed product, not worthy of being called a magic sword.
"It has healing effects. Extremely powerful ones."
"Then it's even less of a magic sword, isn't it?"
The more he explains, the stranger it gets.
If it has powerful healing effects, isn't it more like a recovery item?
His answer to that question was astonishing.
"But it hurts tremendously."
"It hurts?"
A magic sword just because it hurts?
"Very, very, very, very much! So much a person can't endure."
"A swordsman should be able to endure that much."
"Even experts at the pinnacle can't endure it."
"Is that so?"
He nods, but I still can't quite understand.
A magic sword made by dwarves just because it causes pain.
There are swords that track enemies until death or leave unhealable wounds, yet their clan's worst magic sword only inflicts pain?
Pain is something swordsmen must live with constantly, isn't it?
"I'll yield the first move."
"I won't hold back."
He takes his stance and swings the sword.
A very ordinary overhead strike.
But his form is impeccable.
I lightly swing my stick to block the sword.
"You're underestimating... guk?!"
An immense shock comes rushing in!
"Th-this is!"
A scream bursts from my mouth involuntarily.
What is this pain!
"Wait... guk? Khek?"
The moment our blades clash, electric pain surges through my entire body.
I've lived with a sword in hand since I can remember.
No matter how many years it's been since I last held one, this pain!
"Murder!"
A scream I've never heard in my life spills from my mouth.
"Not yet!"
"Th-that!"
The silver magic sword shatters even my sword aura as it presses in, and I finally understand why it's called a magic sword.
For a warrior, death is respite.
But this magic sword denies death to warriors.
Endless pain. Not just any pain, but unparalleled agony without end—what a wicked weapon!
"Shouldn't a swordsman see things through once he draws his sword?"
"I-I quit being a swordsman! So you can stop now!"
"I see."
Nodding, Melrn releases the sword.
"What!"
Hands and feet sprout from the falling sword, and it starts walking toward me.
"Because it's a magic sword."
"Wh-what does that mean!"
Goosebumps rise all over my body.
It's waddling, but fast. Already lunging at me!
"Kraaak!"
"Because it's a magic sword, it beats people until it's satisfied. It won't kill you, of course."
"J-just kill me!"
"Magic sword."
"Kraaak!"
Unlike Melrn, who bows politely, the silver magic sword swings its arms and legs, launching its assault.
"Aren't you its master!"
"Magic sword."
"You're just going to keep saying that!"
I give up on getting help from Melrn, who keeps repeating the same thing.
Magic sword or not, a weapon is just a weapon! I can handle one without an owner!
"Formless Swordsmanship!"
After long years of disuse, sword aura gathers on my blade.
With sword aura, even a wooden stick can cut steel.
And if I focus it even more!
"A mere magic sword!"
For the first time since facing the current Sword Saint, the ultimate technique of Formless Swordsmanship—Sword of Martial Intent—manifests in my hand after ages.
And then,
"Huh?"
The magic sword simply takes my ultimate strike infused with sword aura and charges at me.
"Wait! What is this!"
"Magic sword."
"You're just going to say that—kraaak!"
In an instant, the leg attached to the sword kicks my ankle.
"Khek!"
The magic sword climbs atop my fallen body on the ground as if it's done this a thousand times.
Terrifying.
For the first time since I gripped a sword at age seven, I feel the emotion of fear again.
The position commonly called a mount, but against a sword.
If it were a person, our eyes would meet, but all I see is the grotesque blade of the magic sword with limbs.
"W-wait... just hold on, magic sword."
I've become a senile old man talking to an object, but surprisingly, the magic sword seems to understand me.
"I admit defeat. So stop heeeeeere!"
The magic sword shakes its head.
The sword wobbles slightly, but that's how I perceive it.
Then, two fists emerge from the striking sword, and I lose all sense of reason.
I want to die.
If only I could die, I'd at least find peaceful rest!
"Kwaaaah!"
But the more it hits, the stronger the pain grows.
Dwarves have created countless divine arms throughout history, and a similar number of magic swords.
When the world opened, only twelve dwarf clans existed.
One of them called this their worst magic sword—I should have realized then.
"Stop, stop!"
How long since I last shed tears!
Beaten to tears for the first time since age thirteen!
Back then, it was from frustration, not pain!
Now, it's purely from the agony, tears streaming!
"Th-the weapon is supreme! Magic sword is the best! So stop!"
But the magic sword shows no mercy.
It relentlessly pounds my face and body with fists emerging from the blade.
In the end, all I can do is block with my arms.
But the pain is the same even then.
Thus, until I could feel nothing at all, I was unilaterally thrashed by the magic sword, and I, unable to defeat a single weapon, finally realized that weapons are supreme.
***
"Kyaa~ Refreshing!"
Seeing the iron bat bounding over with a bright smile, I sink into deep thought.
I've seen plenty of once-great old-timers, but none who used sword aura.
Sword aura—the mark of a Swordmaster.
What are the odds the neighbor grandpa is one of the rare Swordmasters even in the empire?
"Huh? Swordmasters aren't that easy to find? They pop up around Master all the time."
"...True."
Let me think. Rud was a Swordmaster, Sia was one, I met the Sword Saint, Aris is one...
"And the princess chasing Master is a Swordmaster, with her twelve subordinates all Swordmasters too?"
"Swordmasters are a dime a dozen?"
Suddenly, the odds skyrocket that the neighbor grandpa is a Swordmaster too.
Times have changed.
This is the great Swordmaster era! Not pirates.
Swordsmen need to be Swordmasters at least these days!
"Isn't it the era where humanity dominates the world?"
"I think Master played a big role in that."
I've strengthened humanity too much without realizing.
They need a nerf.
Especially around me.
"Every time Master runs away, humanity's combat power rises."
"Can't deny it."
Damn, my efforts to live easy have butterfly-effected into choking me.
Non-Swordmasters becoming Swordmasters.
"No way this old man's a legendary Grand Swordmaster, right?"
"That really would be legend."
"Swordmaster knight orders were legend-only stuff, but we saw it in reality."
"Yep!"
Reality always surpasses imagination.
A hikikomori becoming popular is novel stuff, but it happened to a president in real life too, right?
"What's that about?"
"Stuff like that exists."
The iron bat, who hasn't experienced such reality, doesn't know those mind-blowing facts.
"So what do we do with the old man? Just ditch him?"
"Hey! Tradition says if you attack or kill hidden hermits like that, successors seeking their legacy, family descendants, or even heroes they taught a trick or two come knocking!"
"Too many who could show up!"
"Yeah, you don't mess with hidden hermits."
Even in my organization days, we left quiet old-timers alone.
Hidden hermits aren't called that for nothing.
Unless related to them, most send off even masked black-clad assassins with "leave me in peace."
No one wants to be an extra swept up in a hidden hermit's final stand.
Respect your seniors, and they won't move unless it involves their circle.
"So. We'll politely escort the old man home."
"Then?"
"We bolt!"
"Been a while since we fled!"
Yeah, regretfully, time to end this place.
Unharvested corn and such are a waste, but bundle and quick-sell for decent cash.
"We stayed pretty long here. Kinda sad."
"Me too, but no choice. Neighbor's the former Sword Saint."
Even seeing tons of Swordmasters, most were after me.
Organization sent them, palace sent them, princess sent them.
Only Aris was made by snowball-throwing to catch No. 17... not really effort.
So this Sword Saint might contact weirdos to catch me anytime.
Thus, I bolt!
"Nooo!"
But unlike usual, I have another companion.
"Harvest isn't even done, moving? No!"
Ellis looks at me with teary eyes.
"It's a super urgent matter."
"What's that?"
"Uh, well..."
Neighbor grandpa's a Swordmaster.
Only the iron bat, who's experienced my life indirectly with linked souls, would buy that.
"Hmm... Scary people might chase us?"
"Scary people? Who?"
Innocent eyes gaze at me.
I've seen predator eyes on prey or Evil God's minions, but these? No resistance.
"Hmm..."
"Master, you have tons. Just pick one?"
While I ponder, the iron bat whispers.
-Suspicious much?
-Already doing sudden night flight. More suspicious?
Fair.
"You're lying! No! I like it here! I like this land where I farmed hard with Daddy!"
"Ellis..."
Proud words from my daughter.
But...
"The kid says that too, so no need to leave because of me."
Behind me, a sturdy figure speaks in a dying voice.
"Old man?!"
"I get it."
Seeing his enlightened smile, I decide to stay longer and watch.
A decision I'd regret in under a year.