Chapter 44
“Here, take it.”
“Hyung-nim. Are you really giving this to me?”
Ibrahmut asked in astonishment as he watched Yoon Sang-hyuk hand the sword to Arnin.
“I said I would.”
“But this sword is...”
It was too extraordinary.
Even the fallen divinity he himself had forged could not compare. Measured against this blade, the one he had given Zephyr was pitifully little more than an iron rod.
He wondered how something like this could even be possible. But he did not ask. He suspected Yoon Sang-hyuk would not be able to give him a proper answer anyway.
Ibrahmut examined the sword in Yoon Sang-hyuk’s hand more closely.
A mysterious light shimmered along the black blade. Familiar, yet alien. It was a sword filled entirely with Yoon Sang-hyuk’s realization. He didn’t use swords himself, but he still wanted it.
Still, since it was not a blade meant for him, he quickly put the thought aside.
“Um... you really don’t have to give it to me.”
Arnin, too, smiled awkwardly. By his own limits, he could not fully feel the true power contained in the sword. But at the very least, he could tell that the blade in Yoon Sang-hyuk’s hand did not belong with him. Just looking at Ibrahmut’s reaction made it easy to guess how extraordinary that sword was.
“Swordsmen risk their lives to get better swords. Why wouldn’t you take it?”
“It just doesn’t seem like a sword that suits me.”
Yoon Sang-hyuk gave a faint smile.
Maybe Arnin was right. The sword reborn by his own hand was truly remarkable. On raw specifications alone, it did not rival Song of Doom, but it far surpassed the recognition of his old beloved blade, the Dragon Emperor Admarion, which he had used in the past.
If he were to rank it, it would easily surpass Legendary grade. Perhaps he had created a sword worthy of the farthest edge of Myth grade.
Even if he repeated the same process, he could not confidently say he would make the same sword again. When he forged this one, his mind had been completely emptied, and enlightenment had flooded in all at once. How many times in a lifetime did a moment like that come?
A sword made in the purest possible state of mind. He held out to Arnin a blade he could not promise he would ever make again.
“Then become someone worthy of the sword.”
There was a saying that the place makes the person.
If he used a sword that was too good for him, then he should become a swordsman worthy of it. If he kept striving for that, Arnin would one day become someone who could stand entirely on his own.
“But...”
“Not confident?”
Yoon Sang-hyuk provoked him lightly.
Arnin’s eyebrows twitched. He had a wolf’s face, but he was surprisingly expressive; his thoughts showed on his face so clearly that it was easier to read than a human’s.
“That’s not it.”
“Then take it. And do your damnedest to become a swordsman who suits this blade. That’s all there is to it.”
Yoon Sang-hyuk handed the sword to Arnin. But Arnin still could not bring himself to reach for it.
“Last chance. If you don’t take it this time, I’m really not giving it to you, all right?”
“I-I understand.”
Arnin clutched the sword.
“Ah—!”
He let out a soft cry of awe. An unknown power pulsed through the sword in his grasp. Merely holding it made him feel stronger. He could not even begin to imagine what an incredible sword it was.
Admiration quickly gave way to a bright, happy smile spreading across Arnin’s face.
“Thank you so much. Truly...”
“The sword’s name is Demonic Holy Sword.”
“Demonic Holy Sword. Yes, sir. I’ll keep working so I never bring shame to the name of the Demonic Holy Sword.”
“You’d better.”
Yoon Sang-hyuk waved at the delighted Arnin, then walked over and sat down near the campfire. The name Demonic Holy Sword had been something he’d come up with on the spot. He couldn’t exactly call a sword meant for life in the Demon Realm the Holy Demonic Sword, so he’d reversed the order and named it Demonic Holy Sword. For something he’d named without much thought, it had turned out rather well.
Valender von Graus poured him a drink. It was a fierce liquor he’d brought from a tavern before leaving the territory.
“Ahh. Nice.”
If you took alcohol out of a long expedition through the Demon Realm, the whole thing would become truly bleak.
“Sang-hyuk.”
“Yeah.”
“Care to spar with me?”
“A spar? Sure.”
He drained the drink in one go and stood.
The reason Valender von Graus had suddenly suggested a spar was obvious. He wanted to see for himself how much stronger Yoon Sang-hyuk had become after obtaining enlightenment.
Valender von Graus had also recently gained enlightenment. And yet the gap between them had not closed. If anything, it only grew deeper and wider.
Valender von Graus’s pride in the sword was second to none. But that did not mean he belittled Yoon Sang-hyuk’s skill, which had grown through the Player trait. No one knew better than he did how much bone and blood Sang-hyuk had poured into his growth, because he had watched every bit of it from his side all along. This spar was not a challenge of pride. It was a swordsman’s request to learn from one who had grown stronger.
He took Song of Doom in hand and extended the sword straight ahead. It felt as though the blade were part of his own body; there wasn’t the slightest awkwardness. It was as if he could bend the sword the way he bent his arm.
Valender von Graus stood before him. As it had the first time they met, his massive frame imposed tremendous pressure on his opponent. It felt like a mountain blocking the way.
“I’ll yield the first strike.”
“I won’t refuse.”
Valender von Graus’s figure blurred.
A sword came for Yoon Sang-hyuk’s throat. The distance vanished in an instant as the blade rushed in. For someone of Yoon Sang-hyuk’s level or Valender von Graus’s, distance was practically meaningless. At any time, they could erase it and attack by cutting through space itself.
Rather than lifting his sword to block, Yoon Sang-hyuk chose to shift slightly aside. Valender von Graus’s blade passed a hair’s breadth from his neck. It was an evasion made possible only because Valender von Graus had not used dark energy.
The chill carried by the blade awakened every cell in his body.
Yoon Sang-hyuk thrust his sword forward. It was less a stab than simply extending his arm, sword and all. Yet the result of that simple motion was astonishing.
Valender von Graus, who had been pressing in with a follow-up attack, hastily retreated. But Yoon Sang-hyuk’s blade kept pursuing him. What was remarkable was that Valender von Graus was the one forced back while Yoon Sang-hyuk stood rooted in place, as if nailed there.
After retreating a considerable distance, Valender von Graus asked, “How did you do that?”
“I just decided I was going to stab you.”
“Hmm. The will has materialized?”
“You could put it that way. You’re not thinking of ending it this soon, are you?”
“Of course not.”
Valender von Graus closed the distance again. But when Yoon Sang-hyuk’s sword moved once more, Valender von Graus had no choice but to step back.
The same pattern repeated itself again and again. In the end, Valender von Graus lowered his sword.
“Sword Emperor.”
Yoon Sang-hyuk grinned.
People really did love putting things into stages.
Magic had circles, and swordsmanship had its own ranks.
Beginner, User, Expert, Master...
The Sword Master, meaning the master of the sword, was not the final stage of swordsmanship. Above that was the Grand Master, those who had reached the ultimate truth of the blade. If he were to describe the swordsmanship realm Valender von Graus had reached, it would be Grand Master.
Beyond that lay the legendary realm of swordsmanship passed down in Roselia Continent: the Sword Emperor. It was a realm that surpassed even the ultimate truth of swordsmanship, the absolute peak, the emperor of the blade.
“Mind Sword.”
Valender von Graus murmured as if in pain.
A moment ago, Yoon Sang-hyuk had merely willed it toward Valender von Graus as he attacked.
In the wuxia novels Yoon Sang-hyuk liked to read, there was a realm called the Sword of Mind. The Mind Sword was exactly that.
A realm where, the moment intent arose, that intent took form.
That realm was the Mind Sword.
Snap.
Valender von Graus returned his sword to its scabbard.
“I can’t even begin to measure your limits. You’ve soared so high now that I can’t follow you anymore.”
“That’s a realm you’ll reach too.”
“Enlightenment is terribly shy. If you’re not the one it has chosen, it refuses to come near.”
Valender von Graus made a request.
“I’d like to see your true sword.”
Yoon Sang-hyuk nodded.
Creatin and Arnin, standing nearby, also widened their eyes and watched closely. In truth, the spar had ended far too anticlimactically. They could tell something enormous had happened in a short span of time, but at their level, they had no idea what.
The same was true for Ibrahmut.
Ibrahmut remained on a lower level than Valender von Graus. If even Valender von Graus could only barely glimpse that realm, there was no way Ibrahmut could understand it.
Yoon Sang-hyuk turned his back on his companions and stood facing away from them. He lifted his eyes toward the distant horizon.
At that moment—
“Ah—!”
Everyone cried out. No, more than a cry, their eyes filled with shock.
Without any warning, the world they were looking at was split in two.
The instant it was divided all the way to the horizon before their eyes, a strange thrill ran through everyone’s body. It felt like an illusion, something that had not truly happened. It was not even the concept of cutting space. And yet the world itself had clearly been severed.
“Did you see it?”
At Yoon Sang-hyuk’s question, Valender von Graus shook his head.
“I did not.”
Yoon Sang-hyuk tapped Valender von Graus on the shoulder.
“You’ll see it someday.”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Lying in bed, he closed his eyes.
“Can I really call myself human?”
It was a question he had sometimes asked himself after first becoming a Player and obtaining inhuman power.
Watching the people who rejoiced at being chosen by God, he had wondered whether he too had ceased to be human.
Now, in this moment, he thought about it again.
The power he possessed was not something a human being could ever truly hold.
The Abyss of the Void, and Satan within it, whose strength he could not even begin to guess at.
And yet, no matter how much power Satan might wield, he could not imagine losing.
That was not arrogance.
A single sword stood upright in his heart.
When that sword split the world in two, he had felt overwhelming emotion surge through him.
Baal was strong. But right now, he felt as though he could cut Baal down with a single strike. Even if Satan was stronger than Baal, the result would not change.
He thought about it once more. Baal and Satan, in Heaven’s terms, stood in the same place as the chief god, Idea. Could someone who could cut down gods really be called human?
Godslayer.
One who possessed the power to kill even gods.
“Pfft... ahahaha!”
He muttered it, then burst out laughing.
“What’s the point of killing a god?”
But soon he let the laughter fade.
“No, if it means I can go home, then I can even kill a god.”
So now he was going to kill a god. No, he was going to kill something that had once been a god.
As he drifted off to sleep, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he murmured quietly, “Let’s go home.”
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