Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: The Prodigy That Rolled In (2)
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Of course, it wasn't an ordinary week.
Ban didn't have a single day free from headaches. His body could handle it, but absorbing what might be months or even years' worth of memories in just one week wasn't something that could be easy.
But Ban never once complained. Headaches from swordsmanship? For the old him, that was a luxury he couldn't even imagine.
It was a hundred times better than memorizing herb names until his head hurt. Especially since this swordsmanship belonged to the Cho Clan—no need to say more.
Ban even slept clutching a sword to his chest. Because of that, his chances to practice with the sword from Oben grew fewer, but it was fine. Oben's thrust was certainly appealing, but the Cho Clan's swordsmanship was even more so.
- Those who inherit the blood of the Cho Clan are born with powers that ordinary people can't even imagine.
It was Gintnel's words. Cho Clan newborns could strangle snakes to death, and before puberty hit, they could beat wolves barehanded.
That's why their swordsmanship had evolved in a way that harnessed those innate powers.
Like Jensen's Overhead Slash, their blades minimized air resistance upon contact. The reason was a bit different, though. Jensen's Overhead Slash gathered gravity, weight, recoil—all those forces perfectly onto the blade.
And the reason the Cho Clan's blades traced a perfect straight line toward their target without the slightest slant was solely to prevent their overflowing power from shattering their own swords.
In a way, it could be seen as executing an Overhead Slash from every direction and posture imaginable. From Ban's perspective, it wasn't an entirely unfamiliar sword style. At least when it came to Overhead Slashes, he was already following the Cho Clan's techniques.
Of course, from Gintnel's viewpoint—who knew nothing of the Voice of the Sword—it was only natural for Ban to seem like a pure genius.
"Ban."
"...Ah, Sir Gintnel."
"No need for 'sir'! That's a central region custom. No reason for us in the east to follow it. Just Gintnel is fine."
"Yes, Gintnel."
"The basics seem solid already. Do you think so too?"
"......Yes. I feel like I've gotten a sense of what Cho Clan swordsmanship is like."
At Ban's words, Gintnel inwardly clicked his tongue in amazement. Among all the people he'd seen in his life, no one had picked up swordsmanship this quickly. Even with solid fundamentals, learning a new style was never simple.
"But Gintnel, I have a question."
"What is it?"
"The power of the Cho Clan... where does it come from exactly?"
"Blood."
Gintnel answered without a hint of doubt. Ban's face grew a bit frustrated.
"Then, is there any point in me practicing the Cho Clan's swordsmanship? Without that power, isn't it all useless?"
"......Yeah. You could think that."
Gintnel glanced around. Many people were sweating through their training. He looked back at Ban and asked,
"Want to take a walk?"
They climbed a small mountain behind the Cho Clan estate. As they walked the half-cleared path, Gintnel spoke quietly.
"I thought the same at first. Whether it was even feasible for me to use their swordsmanship when the prerequisites were so different."
"...Is there a way?"
"You've heard of Qi, right? Do you know what it is?"
"Yes. ......But I'm not sure exactly what it is."
"That makes sense. The more you try to know it, the less you understand—that's Qi."
Gintnel drew his sword. The well-honed blade seemed to gleam with sharpness at a glance. Aiming it at the setting sun, he turned to Ban.
"Ban. Do you think it's possible to cut the sunset with a single sword?"
"......I want to believe it is."
"I think it is."
Gintnel swung. A splendid Overhead Slash, comparable to Jensen's. He slashed upward, diagonally, thrust. The traces of long hours of sweat were etched into the perfect straight lines his sword drew.
"I slashed at empty air countless times. Like many swordsmen do. Sometimes straw, sometimes animals. Plenty of human necks too. As you keep slashing one by one... eventually, you'll see it. The boundary between what you can cut and what you can't."
"......Is Qi the power to see that boundary?"
"It's the power that makes the impossible possible."
Gintnel stopped his sword. The sunset remained flawless, untouched.
"As a kid, I made up my mind. Someday, I'd cut that sunset. But... it's still far off."
And that was the moment. Gintnel spun and thrust his sword at a rock beside Ban.
No sound came. Like slicing tofu, Gintnel's sword cut through the rock smoothly. Only the dark sword mark left behind proved he'd cut it.
"But rocks are this close now."
"This is... Qi."
Ban swallowed hard amid shivers. An ordinary person would have just marveled and been done.
But Ban was different. He saw it all with his own eyes—how cleanly Gintnel's sword traced its path, how its speed didn't slow even while cutting the rock.
Gintnel said,
"Slash and slash again. Swing and swing more. Then, one day, without anyone explaining, you'll know what Qi is."
Only then did Aidan's words make sense. Qi wasn't learned—it was cultivated.
That night, Ban could hardly sleep.
When he finally drifted into a dream, Oben was there.
§
'......Was it like this?'
Waking up, Ban grabbed Oben's longsword and thrust repeatedly. In the dream, he'd vaguely felt that Qi, but in reality, the sensation didn't quite register.
"What was that? It didn't look like Cho swordsmanship."
"...Cho swordsmanship?"
"Cho Clan swordsmanship. The name's too long."
"You're right."
At God’s words, Ban nodded. God tsked at Ban.
"You're really something. What's so great about living by the sword that you're this enthusiastic? At best, you'll end up one-eyed like me."
"The eyepatch suits you though."
"What, you wanna be one-eyed too?"
"That's a bit......"
God chuckled. He grabbed Ban's shoulder and smiled.
"But since you're doing it, go for it. That world strongest thing or whatever."
"......You're not teasing, right?"
"Would I tease you till the very end before parting?"
At those words, Ban lowered his sword. God shrugged.
"Anyway, we're all leaving today."
"...I see."
"We're not the type to chase far horizons. Fish have their fish happiness, birds have their bird happiness. You fly far—to places we can't see."
Ban nodded and looked at Dolbi and Aidan. Dolbi nodded silently, and Aidan said quietly,
"Come visit the village whenever you have time. Jensen will want to see you too."
"You're planning to stay as guard captain there forever......?"
"It's a small village. I have to protect it."
"......What wish did you make back then anyway?"
Instead of answering, Aidan smiled faintly. He ruffled Ban's hair and whispered softly,
"I believe in you."
After that, there was no more talk. Farewells couldn't always be grand, and they left as modestly as their wishes.
Urong visited that evening.
"Ban. Doing well?"
"Ah, Young Master Urong."
"You know you're pretty famous in the clan now? They say you mastered the basic forms in a week."
"That's how it happened."
"There's reason they call it world strongest. Hmm... Anyway, I have something to say."
Urong said,
"I'm heading to the academy in a fortnight."
"A fortnight?"
"I originally planned to go with you then... but since you asked for the Cho Clan's teachings, you couldn't leave right away. I came to ask what you want. Come with me? Or... chase after me in a year?"
Ban groaned softly. Going with Urong would mean enjoying benefits right by his side. And he was curious about that rumored academy.
But he couldn't leave just yet.
"I'll stay."
"......Yeah. I figured. So I can expect you as my junior in a year?"
"I promise. We'll meet again at the academy in a year."
"That means you'll breeze through the entrance exam, right?"
Ban just smiled. That smile was answer enough. Urong left satisfied.
'......Another reason to get stronger.'
From that day, Ban devoted most of his day to training. He even made sleep part of his practice. Sometimes hugging Oben's sword, sometimes Lucas's, sometimes the Cho Clan's.
No day was easy. Muscle pain turned into full-body aches that left him bedridden at times, and his sword-gripping palms were callused everywhere.
Still, he never let the sword leave his body for a day.
The boy who once only dreamed of being a swordsman drew closer to becoming one, day by day. He slashed flying bees and butterflies, falling leaves,
straw and wood.
And so, a year passed.
"......Did I cut it?"
Ban sheathed his sword and wiped his sweat. He could cut rocks now.