Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Reading the Sword (1)
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Ban gripped his sword instead of replying.
"Now come on, just give up already. Ban."
His comrades had long since become corpses at the end of this war. He didn't even have the luxury to grieve. There were still so many enemies to cut down, and he was alone.
His opponent spoke.
"You're the only one left now. Fighting at this point is meaningless. Why not surrender? With your reputation as the famed Sword God Ban, the New Kingdom would never treat you poorly."
"If I were worried about that sort of treatment, I wouldn't be standing here."
Ban smiled bitterly. There was no longer any hostility left to burn. The battle was over, and he had lost. He scanned his surroundings with bitter eyes.
"What a meaningless war. What were we even fighting for? They're all... dead."
"This is a war to ensure such conflicts never happen again. The New Kingdom will bring eternal peace to this land."
"I didn't know you were the type to believe in fairy tales."
Ban sneered as he gripped his sword. He had no strength left. He'd lost too much blood; in fact, he could barely even make out his opponent's face. But the weight of the sword in his hand was crystal clear.
"Enough chit-chat."
And it was right then, as he swung the blade—
Whack! A burst of pain hit him, and Ban clutched his forehead. The sword was no longer in his hand. The enemy army that had filled the plains had vanished without a trace. All that was left before his eyes was... one stubbornly wrinkled face.
"The end my ass. What kind of damn dream is this to be having so vividly! Get up, you lazy slob."
"Ah, M-M-Master..."
"There's more than just one or two baskets of herbs to gather today. You know that, right?"
"Yes..."
Ban pulled himself up with a dejected look. Just moments ago, he'd been barking orders at dozens of bandits, but now he couldn't muster any of that.
And rightly so—because in reality, he was nothing more than an apothecary's assistant.
Not even a swordsman, let alone the Sword God.
§
"...Ah, that dream was a good one."
On the back mountain, Ban kept replaying the dream he'd had while gathering herbs. Today's 'Sword God Ban' dream had been pretty high quality. For one, the feel of the sword in his hand had been incredibly vivid, and the dialogue...
"Enough chit-chat... Heh, so cool."
Ban aimed a random tree branch he'd picked up from the mountain at the empty air, grinning for a moment before letting out another sigh. Delusions were always like that—they just brought on self-loathing. What good was having such a realistic dream? In reality, he was just a kid who had never even held a wooden sword.
Ban wanted to become a swordsman. For a fifteen-year-old boy, it was perhaps only natural.
Just imagine it: swordsmen who could split the sea with a slash or bring down the moon with a thrust. What delusion could make a young boy's heart race more than that?
Ban stopped digging in the dirt and gripped the branch. He swung it wildly at the air for a good while before tossing it away, deflated.
It was pointless training. He couldn't even be sure if he was swinging it properly, and more than that, furtively waving a few branches around on the back mountain wasn't going to change his future.
The only ones who could become apothecary assistants were apothecaries themselves. It was too late to pick up a sword now and expect to become a great swordsman overnight. And above all, even the guard squad wouldn't take him. In the village, one apothecary was worth more than a single swordsman.
The herb basket filled up quickly. Having climbed these mountains since childhood, he knew not only where every herb grew but even the paths of the wild beasts.
His master, Jensen, had no idea. And rightly so—Ban never went straight back to Jensen once the basket was full. There was one part of his routine he could never skip.
Peeking at the training ground where the guards practiced.
It was a meager training ground—just an empty lot where they swung wooden swords—but even that was enough to stir something deep in Ban's chest.
"You again?"
And it was then. A gravelly, low voice came from behind him. Turning around, Ban saw a man of dreamlike bulk staring down at him with a face full of scars. It was the guard captain, Aidan.
"Ah, Mr. Aidan."
"If Jensen finds out, one scolding won't be the end of it. You know that, right?"
"Yes, I do..."
He knew, but he just couldn't help it. If he didn't at least catch a glimpse of them swinging their swords, the regret would keep him up at night.
Of course, Aidan knew full well how deep Ban's longing for swordsmanship ran. And that's exactly why he could only shake his head.
"Learn how to mix potions properly. Jensen's the best apothecary I know. When you grow up, you'll realize what a stroke of luck it is to be his assistant."
"I'm working hard at it. And I'm grateful to Master too."
"...And yet you still come here? You can't give it up, huh?"
Ban sheepishly clutched the herb-filled basket.
"It's not like I'm doing any harm just watching, right?"
"Stubborn kid."
Aidan sighed. Truth be told, he couldn't exactly say he didn't understand. He knew better than anyone how childish boys this age could be.
He placed a hand on Ban's head. It was a rough hand, callused from years of hard work.
"Swordsmanship is just a skill for killing people, in the end. You, on the other hand, can save lives. Believe it or not, I'd actually envy you."
"No, I wouldn't believe it."
"...You little punk."
Aidan couldn't help but chuckle weakly at the boy's cheek. Truth be told, he already knew it wasn't the kind of aspiration that could be quashed with a few words. And in a way, that's why Aidan didn't mind Ban coming around all that much.
No—if he ever stopped showing up, Aidan might even be disappointed. There wasn't a single guard with that much passion for the sword.
'If this kid had picked up a sword from childhood...
He might have aimed for 'knight' status instead of just being a simple guard. Aidan didn't know the extent of his talent, but with that much love for the sword, his skills would have grown inevitably.
But it was too late. At fifteen, the body was already set in its ways. The chances of him becoming a great swordsman now were honestly slim to none.
Maybe that was for the best, for Ban's sake. A quiet life as an apothecary in this small village. It might not be glamorous, but it wouldn't be unhappy either.
"Don't stay out too late."
"Yes, sir."
Ban replied without hesitation.
And he watched the training ground until the sunset painted the sky. He watched the arcs traced by the blades. He watched the quivering sword tips. He watched the writhing muscles and the feet stomping the ground chaotically alongside the swords.
Again. And again. And again...
§
"Where the hell have you been to come back this late?"
"Ah, where else? I was diligently gathering herbs."
"It's been years since you started picking herbs, and your hands are still this slow?"
"How slow can it be..."
Ban grumbled as he entered the house. Jensen glared sharply at him before speaking in a subdued tone.
"Don't stay out so late. It's dangerous."
"I'm plenty grown now. You don't need to worry like that."
"Grown? You? Still mumbling nonsense like 'I'll let you go painlessly' in your sleep."
"Ah, th-that! Master! That's not fair, bringing up my dreams!"
"Shut it, you brat! Sort those herbs already."
"...Yes, sir."
He had no comeback when the 'Sword God Ban' dream was brought up. Ears burning red, Ban scurried to the storeroom and started sorting the herbs. It was strange. Such a cool, fun dream turned into something embarrassing in reality.
'Ah, whatever. I just want to swing a sword once, just once.'
There was a wooden sword at home, but it just didn't give him the feeling he craved. He wanted to feel a sharp blade slicing through the air. The weight of steel pressing on his wrist, the light fracturing and scattering off a well-honed edge...
'What would Master say if I told him I want to be a swordsman?'
He'd be lucky not to get thrashed. Getting kicked out would be par for the course.
It was then. Lost in thought, Ban accidentally dropped the basket, spilling the freshly sorted herbs everywhere. Nearly half an hour of work down the drain.
"...Ah, come on."
Ban sighed and started scooping the herbs back into the basket. As he lamented how long it would take to sort them again, he plucked an herb from between the floorboards. Frowning, he stared at the floor.
'What?'
He hadn't noticed before, but something was off with this floorboard. Reaching out just in case, it lifted right up as if it were meant to. Seeing the hidden box beneath, Ban let out a scoff.
'What the heck did he hide so carefully?'
It looked suspicious as hell. Ban glanced at the door, then carefully pulled the box out. Maybe a jar of honey? Or something too scandalous to show his apprentice? Whatever it was, he hoped it was something he could tease Master with—a counterattack for all the 'Sword God Ban' jabs.
But moments later, when he opened the box, Ban's face froze as if he'd been smacked in the back of the head.
It was something he never could have expected.
......A sword?