Chapter 7: Sword Beginner (2)
Chapter 7: Sword Beginner (2)
The Verdi region, located in the southern reaches of the Iron Kingdom Chervil.
It was a place more commonly referred to as "the sticks" or a "backwater" than by its actual name. Despite its vast land, the population density was pitifully low. Most of the youth had flocked to the capital, leaving behind an aging demographic, low education levels, and crumbling infrastructure due to a lack of development.
The term "rural backwater" fit the region perfectly.
The elderly, uneducated residents of Verdi spent their days in a monotonous loop. They farmed, raised livestock, made milk and cheese, or, in some cases, produced the local specialty wine in a bid to put the region on the map.
It was a quiet corner of the world that no one paid attention to—a place one might visit only occasionally for a silent retreat.
Even within this backwater, the most remote area—devoid of any sights or specialties—was the estate of the Caravan family, where Arhan resided. In truth, calling it an "estate" was almost laughable.
It was a small, nameless village. Back when Arhan’s parents were alive, the villagers didn't treat them as authoritative lords, but rather as village headmen.
Everyone worked together, no taxes were collected, and they always joined forces to overcome hardships. The residents viewed Arhan’s father, who possessed the speech and gestures typical of a noble, as nothing more than a fallen aristocrat. They knew he had no right to collect taxes nor the power to exercise a lord's authority.
Had he been a true lord, there would have been knights guarding the mansion, or at least the occasional visit from other nobles.
To the villagers, the Caravan family was simply a nameless, fallen noble house—a wealthy family with a decent mansion that didn't quite fit the rustic surroundings, living comfortably on their accumulated riches.
They were just one of the many fallen noble families commonly found on the outskirts of the Iron Kingdom.
What made the Caravan family different was that they didn't cling to aristocratic pride; instead, they lived alongside the villagers. They were friendly, fun, and genuinely cared for their neighbors.
Such scenes were common enough in remote country villages, so their story never became famous. In fact, most people didn't even know the village existed.
It was just an ordinary country village.
However, the presence of that village had recently begun to grow.
"Did you hear the rumor? The people in the western village have completely vanished. Just like smoke."
All sorts of bizarre rumors began to spread.
Some said the villagers were sacrificed to a spell cast by an evil black mage; others claimed a remnant of a Monster Wave that escaped the Watchers of the North had swept through the village; and some whispered that a mysterious, horrific epidemic had killed everyone.
The conclusion of every rumor was the same.
Do not enter the western village.
Of course, there were those who interpreted the rumors differently. Barbarians looking for a hideout, or fearless youths from the slums who didn't fear plagues or black mages.
But of the many who flocked there, not a single one returned.
They had all been killed by Arhan’s Needle, but the public thought otherwise.
"There's something there. You must never go inside."
The rumors continued to swell.
And bloated rumors have a way of spreading far and wide.
Eventually, the rumor of the "village you must not enter" reached the ears of a certain man.
"...A village where you die if you enter, huh?"
It reached the ears of a man who looked entirely out of place in the southern Verdi region.
"Then there must be no people there. That's where I'll go."
*
After repeatedly hanging from the cliff, several things began to change.
First, my senses became noticeably sharper.
I had always been more sensitive than the average person, but now my senses were honed to a razor's edge.
The things I saw, the sounds I heard, the smells, and the textures I touched with my fingertips—everything felt different.
It seems you are beginning to sense mana.
Liam commented simply on my transformation.
The changes didn't stop there. My concentration had also developed to a level that was in a different dimension.
When I held the Needle and stared intently at something, I felt as if time slowed down for a very brief moment.
These were changes that would be incredibly useful in combat.
Gaining these results, I thought to myself:
This is just the process of approaching the level of a Sword Beginner, and it's already this effective.
I had only barely touched the realm of the superhuman, yet the gap between now and before was palpable. And I hadn't even fully become a Sword Beginner yet.
I truly realized how distant the goal of becoming a Swordmaster was. Those called divine beings—what kind of world did they live in? Just how high was the realm I had to ascend to?
It felt overwhelming, but I didn't feel despair.
Because it was something I had to do.
I would not give up.
Instead, I simply continued to endure while hanging from the cliff.
It was then that I felt a strange sensation. When I inhaled, it felt as if something "other" than just air was entering through my nostrils.
It was similar to when I was a child, playing in a valley stream with my father. It was that unfamiliar, stinging feeling of water rushing into my nose when I fell in.
The difference was that this time, while unfamiliar, it wasn't unpleasant. For a very brief moment, I felt a sense of fullness in my stomach.
The moment I felt it, I looked at Liam.
"Master, just now..."
Yes. You inhaled mana.
I had inhaled mana.
The moment I heard Liam’s words, a bright smile spread across my face.
However, Liam shook his head.
But you only inhaled it. It does not mean you have accumulated even a handful of mana.
"Ah..."
A Mana Heart has not yet formed in your body.
It meant I hadn't reached the level of a Sword Beginner yet.
When my expression turned to disappointment, Liam spoke again.
But it won't be long now. Feeling mana means you are almost there.
I smiled again at Liam’s words.
As I’ve said before, he never lied when it came to the Sword.
Those weren't empty words of encouragement; they were the absolute truth. My heart pounded with excitement.
I spent another three hours hanging from the cliff before finally climbing back up.
It was then.
"...Hm?"
In the distance, I saw an unfamiliar guest walking through the village entrance.
A guest who could be a neighbor, or an uninvited intruder.
For once, I hoped he wasn't an intruder.
Because...
That fellow is at least a Sword Walker.
The guest who arrived today was not a bug I could simply chase away.
I remained silent for a moment before asking, my habitual curiosity getting the better of me.
"Can I handle him?"
To my question, Liam replied mercilessly.
You would be dead within 1.2 seconds.
As expected, my Master never lied when it came to the Sword.
*
What will you do?
Liam never gave clear-cut answers.
Instead, he asked me questions.
And I would always give him my opinion.
"I plan to watch him for now."
Liam said the person who entered the estate was at least a "Sword Walker."
If that was the case, I stood no chance.
There was zero probability that a novice like me, who hadn't even become a Sword Beginner, could defeat a Sword Walker who had reached the realm of the superhuman. What about appearing before him and warning him like I did before?
That was also impossible.
Even if I had built up my physical strength by roaming the estate every day, I could never win a race against a Sword Walker who had created a "Path." Never.
A wise decision.
Liam nodded after hearing my words.
I replied bitterly to his comment.
"Actually, it wasn't so much a wise decision as it was the only one I had."
Why? There was also the option of abandoning everything and running away the moment you spotted him.
"...That was also an option I couldn't choose."
I had realized it myself while dealing with various uninvited guests until now.
I cannot abandon this estate. The village where memories still linger, the desolate streets, the quiet mansion. The people I loved are gone, but this place is precious to me. So very precious.
I see.
Liam spoke briefly.
A moment of silence passed before he added:
You must know that, at your current level, that is greed.
"I know."
In the Continent, power is the law. The strong can do anything, but the weak have no choice but to flee or crawl on their own. And right now, you are a weakling at the very bottom.
The bottom.
It was the perfect description.
Even if I had been lucky enough to deal with insignificant intruders until now, I was nothing more than a speck of dust when viewed from the perspective of the entire Continent. I felt that reality poignantly once again.
If you want to protect what is precious to you, you must become strong.
Liam was right.
If I had been a Swordmaster, my parents wouldn't have died.
If I had been a Swordmaster, this village wouldn't have been ruined.
So, hang from the cliff, young descendant.
I don't want to lose anything else.
To ensure that, I have to become strong.
Stronger than anyone else in this world.
"I understand."
Even though a strange guest had arrived, nothing had changed.
In the end, I would simply continue walking the same path as before.
Let's climb. To that high place.
"Whew—"
The grip of my hands as I grabbed the rocky protrusions had become surprisingly strong. I could now support my body not just with one hand, but with only two fingers.
My rate of growth was excessively fast.
Even Orcs, who were born for battle, likely couldn't grow strong this quickly. This was probably the effect of devouring the sword of the Swordswoman Mary.
As the Sword was digested in my stomach and her memories and experiences melted into my frail body, my form was gradually becoming harder and sharper.
Just as my Master said.
Like Steel.
"Whew."
Even after the guest arrived without warning, my daily routine did not change.
The incident occurred a week after that.
*
My daily routine included one more task besides the training to become a Sword Beginner.
It was watching the mysterious guest, who was estimated to be at least a "Sword Walker." To be precise, it was to distinguish whether he was someone who could become my neighbor or a dangerous person who should be classified as an intruder.
The conclusion I reached after this tedious observation was this:
"He doesn't seem like a dangerous person."
I agree. It doesn't seem like he'll suddenly swing his sword and kill you.
From morning until the sun set in the evening, the guest walked around the village as if taking a stroll. When the sun began to set, he would sit on a hill and gaze at the orange glow. The guest's eyes would grow moist as he watched the sunset, looking as if he were reminiscing about some distant, fond memory.
Looking at him like that, he seems more like a sentimental bard than a swordsman.
After watching the sunset, the guest would unpack a large bundle he had brought and prepare food. He was a good cook; even from a distance, the aroma made my mouth water.
Strangely, the guest never entered any of the empty houses in the village. He never opened a creaking wooden door, nor did he ever take any of the scattered grains or vegetables.
Perhaps thinking that everything belonged to someone, he didn't touch a thing and lived solely off what he had brought. There was a sense of dignity in his behavior.
He is upright. Even though he likely thinks no one is watching, he strictly adheres to rules and etiquette.
"...Seeing him like that, I have a bit of a guess as to his identity."
Ho? Can you tell me what you've guessed?
Liam threw a question at my opinion.
As always, I answered immediately.
"A swordsman whose body is steeped in discipline and etiquette... there's only one possibility, isn't there?"
Indeed.
Liam agreed with my opinion.
It seemed he had been thinking the same thing.
That fellow is a Knight.
The identity of the strange guest was vaguely revealed.
A Knight.
Loyal individuals who value honor and absolutely follow the regulations of the Order they belong to.
"If he's a knight, wouldn't he be fine as a neighbor?"
Why do you think so?
"Well, knights are supposed to be righteous people who know honor and protect the weak..."
Haha, child. It seems you've read too many chivalric novels.
Liam burst into laughter upon hearing my words.
It is true that knights value honor, but I am not so sure about them being righteous beings. A knight's honor is excessively subjective, and the beings they protect are those of high status who can consistently provide them with fame and valuable riches.
"..."
Honor and justice are inherently quite selfish things. In that regard, let me give you an objective definition of a 'Knight' once more.
Liam’s eyes flashed coldly.
They are blade-wielders who travel in packs under the pretext of honor to exercise violence through numbers. They are executioners who know how to efficiently break humans based on swordsmanship passed down for generations.
"..."
Above all, thanks to the wealth they've accumulated by cleaning up after nobles, they are bastards who are damnably hard to kill because they are armed with unnecessarily high-quality armaments. That is what a knight is.
Liam spoke while looking me straight in the eye.
Do not be swallowed by the deep resonance of the name 'Knight.' Do not focus on the word, but judge the human being themselves. Do what you do best: never be certain, and doubt constantly.
Doubt.
That word stuck in my mind.
"I understand."
I continued to observe the guest after that.
In doing so, I discovered a few more of his peculiar habits. Every night at the same time, he would look up at the moon and bow his head. He would also press his hands together and mutter something, and before eating, he would draw something in the air with his index finger like a religious ritual.
The biggest reason I became convinced he was a good person was his attitude toward living things. The guest didn't pick a single flower blooming on the street, he walked around growing weeds, and if a rabbit or deer popped out, he waited for them to pass so as not to startle them.
Like a priest of an Order that pursued non-killing.
A week after I began observing the guest, I decided it was time to approach him first and ask if he was willing to become a neighbor.
I had no right to chase him away for staying in this deserted estate, and if a new person wanted to settle here, I was more than willing to help.
Well.
"...I knew you had been watching me all along."
I never imagined he would draw his sword the moment I approached him, though.
"Do not even think about turning your back to flee."
I had spoken to him from a considerable distance, preparing for the possibility that the guest might turn into a killer. However, the distance I had judged as "safe enough" was, in fact, not safe at all.
I could be certain.
If that man made up his mind right now, my head would be severed in a single stroke.
"You are already within my 'Path'."
That was my first experience with the realm of the superhuman.
The Sword of a "Sword Walker."
And.
My heart is pounding like crazy.
The first superhuman Sword I encountered was a new kind of danger and an unfamiliar terror to me.
A death far, far greater and more tangible than hanging from a cliff.
So.
It's as if another heart has formed in my chest...
It was more than enough to make my body feel the desperate need for a "Mana Heart."