Chapter 2: Needle (1)
Chapter 2: Needle (1)
Only a Swordmaster can kill a Swordmaster.
This is an ancient proverb, a piece of common sense known even to young children.
*
Was it because I had stayed too long in a mansion reeking of death?
Or perhaps it was because I had spent far too much time without any human contact. To think a blade was speaking to me... I probably needed to visit a nearby temple and seek treatment from a priest.
It wasn't an entirely rare symptom. I had read in books that such phenomena occurred in soldiers who had fought in many wars or in those who had experienced horrific events. The mental trauma I had suffered was certainly no less than theirs; if anything, it was far worse.
With dead eyes, I stared at my family’s heirloom.
The voice rang out once more.
It was a commanding, heavy voice, like the low growl of a lion.
「Devour me, descendant of Caravan.」
「Do so, and you shall obtain what you desire.」
I wondered if my father had also been plagued by such auditory hallucinations before he succumbed to madness.
I kept my mouth shut and stared blankly at the sword. Then, in addition to the voice, I began to see a vision. A transparent human figure flickered behind the blade. It was an old man with the face of a hero, identical to the one in the portraits. His face was wrinkled, but his eyes were as sharp and piercing as a blade.
Staring at the vivid hallucination, I spoke without realizing it.
“Do you even know what it is I desire, to be saying such things?”
After a brief silence, the answer came.
「To become a Swordmaster. To become strong enough to kill a Swordmaster.」
“……”
「I guarantee it. You will never be able to kill that Swordmaster on your own without my help. The man who came here a year ago has reached a level far beyond what anyone of your generation can achieve.」
The ghost flickering around the sword spoke.
「He is a Swordmaster of the caliber that only appeared during the Age of War. A greenhorn like you could train for a lifetime and still never achieve your revenge. Therefore, I shall help you.」
“……How?”
「Devour me. Then you will know everything.」
Again, those nonsensical words.
I found the situation absurd—talking to a hallucination that only I could see.
Yet, I couldn't ignore it. I felt that I shouldn't.
The ghost of the sword, despite being a mere hallucination, exuded an eerily intense pressure.
So, I asked another absurd question.
“Why do you want to help me?”
The answer came immediately.
「Because you are my descendant, inheriting the Steel Blood.」
“……”
「That Swordmaster is not just your enemy. Did he not dare to brutally harm my great descendant? Thus, I intend to use you to judge him. In the name of Caravan.」
The ghost’s eyes were shining.
Like a single blade.
「You heard his words, so you must know. The old stories your innocent father told you were all true. They weren't hollow lies made up to satisfy vanity like the nobles do. Caravan was greater than anyone. Once.」
For some reason, at that moment, I found myself drawn into his gaze.
And so, I gave a strange response.
“……How am I supposed to eat it?”
Perhaps I had already gone mad.
Just like my father.
*
The ghost of the sword spoke of bizarre things.
Everything he uttered was hard to believe.
「The blood flowing through the Caravan family is a mixture of human and dwarf blood. It is a trait that originated from me, a dwarf half-blood. That is why the rumor that the blood of steel flows through the Caravan family was so widespread.」
Mixed with dwarf blood.
That was the first absurdity. No member of our family possessed any of the racial characteristics of dwarves. We had no short stature, no incredibly thick bones, no lush beards growing from the age of seven, nor heat-resistant skin that resisted fire.
Neither I nor my father manifested such traits, and they were absent from the portraits of past family heads as well.
「While there are no outward dwarven traits, I possessed one special ability. By consuming blades—specifically swords—I could acquire the memories and power contained within them. Every descendant who inherited my blood has passed down this ability. That is the decisive reason why the Caravan family was able to produce Swordmasters for generations.」
.
.
.
「The method of consumption is not difficult. Heat the blade until it is glowing, then break it with your teeth and swallow it down your throat as if you were eating a piece of hard bread. It will then permeate your stomach and mix with your Steel Blood.」
What followed was even more preposterous.
Chew and swallow a sword? If I did that, the roof of my mouth and my gums would be shredded. If a piece of metal got stuck in my esophagus, I’d face a miserable death. Even if I managed to swallow it into my stomach, there was no way I’d survive such a thing.
Furthermore, in all the books I’d read about dwarves, I had no memory of any dwarf possessing such an ability. It was well-known that they were close friends of iron and fire, but there was no record of them harboring such a mystery within their bodies...
As I was thinking this, the ghost spoke.
「You don't believe me. I suppose it sounds like nonsense to your generation, where everything has been forgotten.」
It was as if he had seen right through me.
「If you cannot believe, then do not do it. I will not force you.」
“……”
「But you must know. No matter what you do on your own, you will never achieve your goal.」
The ghost’s eyes glared at me.
「For the past year, you’ve bought swordsmanship manuals and practiced alone in the backyard. Afterward, you felt nothing but helplessness. Because the body you were born with is as weak as a girl's. You don't put on muscle well, your bones are damnably thin, and your frame is small. You don't even have a brilliant mind for understanding the mysteries of swordsmanship. You are an ordinary talent who can't even reach the level of a Sword Runner, let alone a Swordmaster.」
“……”
「The calluses on your hands are nothing but wasted effort. You’ve already thrown away a year, and during that year, the Swordmaster you hate has only become greater. He was born with that kind of talent.」
The ghost’s voice pierced me as precisely as a blade.
I couldn't ignore his words. Because they were all true.
「If you won't believe me, then spend the rest of your life like that. Wasting your effort, loathing yourself, and watching from afar as that fellow performs heroic deeds.」
That was the clincher.
Listening to the ghost, I reached out and snatched the sharp sword hanging on the wall.
Looking at it again, it was far too sharp for a sword over five hundred years old.
It looked as if it would slice through flesh with the slightest graze.
Carefully gripping the hilt, I walked out into the yard.
The ghost asked.
「Where are you taking me?」
“I’m going to put you in the fire.”
「The fire?」
I answered his question.
“Didn't you say I had to heat it up before eating it?”
It would be better to die than to keep living like this.
I finally decided to stake my life on this madness.
*
“Gah, cough!”
To put it simply, chewing and eating a heated blade was absolutely, utterly horrific. And the result?
Well, the fact that I can tell this story now is proof enough that I survived.
“Crunch... Ugh, cough.”
It felt like the roof of my mouth was being shredded and set on fire. It felt like my esophagus was being torn apart and molten iron was being poured into my stomach. But surprisingly, while there was pain, there were no injuries.
The roof of my mouth was fine, and no matter how much I coughed, not a single drop of blood came from my throat.
As I was marveling at this strange phenomenon, the ghost of the sword spoke.
No, since his words had been proven true, the title "ghost of the sword" was no longer appropriate.
I knew his name. Since I had actually eaten the sword, I had to call him by his name now.
「Now you believe me, don't you? That my words are all true, and that I am not some hallucination you saw because of your weakness.」
Liam Caravan.
The Progenitor of the Caravan family.
“……Yes, Progenitor.”
「Progenitor? What a ridiculous title. Forget it, there's no need to call me that.」
“Then?”
Liam spoke nonchalantly.
「Call me Master. That is what my descendants used to call me when they received my teachings.」
The title was decided.
“Yes, Master.”
I let out a long, deep breath.
For some reason, my breath felt hot. Even after wiping my lips and taking a sip of cool water, I didn't feel refreshed. It still felt like my insides were burning.
Stroking my stomach, I asked Liam.
“Master, I don't feel like anything has changed yet.”
「Nothing has changed?」
Liam frowned.
I nodded honestly.
“Yes. Your form looks a bit clearer and I can hear your voice better, but other than that—”
「Strange. Wait a moment.」
Liam reached toward my chest. He stirred his transparent hand around the area of my heart a few times and then clicked his tongue.
「My blood has thinned over the generations. You inherited the ability, but it has become quite weak.」
“Weak? What do you mean?”
「Normally, by having you eat my body... that is, the beloved sword I used in life, I intended to raise you to the level of a Swordmaster immediately. But your case is different from mine.」
Liam continued.
「The ability flowing in your blood is far lower than mine. So while you ate it, you failed to digest it.」
“……”
「You’ll only be able to digest the essence contained in my sword once your own level has risen significantly. Dammit, not only is your body pathetic, but your blood is pathetic too. You troublesome descendant.」
He was grating on my nerves to an annoying degree, but I had no excuse.
It was true that I was pathetic, so what could I say?
「Then there's no other way.」
Fortunately, the Progenitor of our family—Master—who had promised to help me, did not abandon me and run away. He let out a sigh and suggested another method.
「It would be better for you to eat swords that suit your current level first.」
“Swords that suit my level?”
「Yes.」
Liam floated in the air, looking down at me with his arms crossed.
「Is there a weapon shop nearby? We don't need new weapons; we need swords that have been used for a long time.」
*
I left the village for the first time in a long while.
Since carriages no longer traveled this way, I had to walk a somewhat rugged path. After pushing through the forest trails, I arrived at the small city closest to the village. In the center of the city, merchants were selling their various wares.
“They’re fresh, come try one!”
I passed the fruit store owner who was offering apples and entered a secluded alleyway. As I stepped into the mouth of the alley, I felt a wave of heat. It was the heat of a smithy. The smell of a blacksmith's shop, of iron being hammered.
But this was not our destination.
「The older the weapon, the better. Lead me to a place with many old swords. I will do the selecting.」
I walked toward the place Liam requested.
I went past the smithy and deeper into the city.
Soon, the stench hit me, and the slums came into view. I saw ragged children living among piles of trash. The residents of the bottom rungs of society, living with eyes full of despair and devoid of hope. Various kinds of refuse were gathered where these people lived.
I could hear the sound of rats squeaking.
The inhabitants here were the poor, rats, cats, and various insects.
“Please, just a penny.”
“I’ll do anything if you just give me a piece of bread. What do you want?”
I shook off the beggars who clutched at my ankles and muttered to me as I went deeper.
There, I found a mountain of trash.
A mountain made of discarded clothes, broken glass, and ruined daily necessities.
Withered hands poked out from various parts of the trash mountain. The refuse that made up the mountain included corpses. The dead whom no one came looking for.
「A place black mages would absolutely love.」
Listening to Liam, I slowly climbed the mountain.
Every time I felt the sensation of flesh beneath my feet, it was hard to hide my disgust. The smell of corpses I had smelled at the mansion was even more intense here. Once I had climbed high enough up the trash mountain, the soles of my shoes made a clinking sound against metal. Clang.
“There will be many blades discarded here. The children living in the slums gather all sorts of things and pile them up, and there will be weapons that were washed in here by the rain. Most of them are useless, but... there's no better place nearby to find old swords.”
「Good.」
Liam floated slowly toward the area I pointed out.
「In the beginning, I also used to devour swords in places thick with the scent of blood like this. It was a battlefield back then. I ate every single sword held by dead soldiers, every discarded sword covered in dirt, without leaving a single one. This place is quieter, but for some reason, it reminds me of that place.」
Liam’s transparent hand swept through the tangled piles of metal.
It was then.
「Found it.」
“Already?”
「Yes. Pull it out.」
“Which one do you mean...?”
「The one I am pointing at.」
Frowning, I looked again at the spot Liam was pointing to.
I looked back at Liam in confusion. Liam’s gaze was steady.
It was as if he were saying, You didn't see it wrong; that's the one.
‘……But that’s not a sword, is it?’
I reached into the pile of metal and grabbed the object Liam had indicated, pulling it out.
As it caught the sunlight, the dull blade gave off a subtle glint.
Liam spoke.
「The moment you eat it, you will know my choice was correct. Treat it with care.」
“……”
「For that will make you, insignificant as you are, look a little more like a swordsman.」
I was still doubtful.
Because what I held in my hand was far too thin to be called a sword.
Rather than a sword, it was... well.
It was like a needle.
*
[Name: Liam's Beloved Sword]
[The sword favored by Liam Caravan, the Progenitor of the Caravan family.]
[Despite hundreds of years passing, it remains unrusted and maintains its sharpness.]
[A treasure of the Caravan family.]
.
.
.
[Consumption Effect]
[Connection with the soul of Liam Caravan has strengthened.]
[Digestion currently in progress.]