Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Five Swords of Ban (3)
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The vice commander of the Royal Knight Order. A position so lofty that even most nobles couldn't treat him as an equal.
And now this man had come all the way to the academy to meet with a student? One who hadn't even reached his fourth year yet?
"As expected of Senior Ban... incredible."
"Wow... even the third-years are already getting offers."
"Does the vice commander normally come here in person for interviews like this?"
"Not that I know of."
"Hey, what's the problem? He's Five Swords of Ban. Five Swords of Ban. The strongest in his third year. No, from what I saw last time, he was pretty much on par with fourth-year Hay... How much stronger will he get from now on?"
The juniors' eyes sparkled as they looked at Ban. Among the younger students, he was inevitably an object of admiration in all sorts of ways. Especially for those not from noble families—it went without saying. Without the blessing of a clan, he could still grow stronger than the heirs of the Nine Great Clans. That unrealistic notion rang utterly true whenever they looked at Ban.
But contrary to what they imagined, the vice commander's personal visit wasn't solely because he was "Five Swords of Ban" or the "strongest third-year." Vice Commander Lucas smiled.
"What a peculiar thing. For two proper swordsmen to come out of that backwater village."
"...Our guard unit was pretty solid, after all."
"Yeah. That's right. Captain Aidan was quite the character too, and then..."
Lucas narrowed his eyes for a moment, as if reminiscing. Then he looked back at Ban and asked.
"Good work getting this far. I never imagined little Jensen's kid would turn up as a swordsman like this."
"You remember me."
"Your face, at least. You were always hanging around the training grounds, too busy gawking at us to notice anything else. It stuck with me. Sort of."
Ban scratched his head sheepishly at Lucas's words. He could barely even recall when that had been anymore. But he soon composed his expression. Even if his interlocutor was the vice commander of the Royal Knight Order—and a fellow native of his home region, no less—there was something he couldn't just hand over easily.
"Thank you. But still, I can't give you a firm answer yet."
"...You serious? If you're trying to drive up your price, you don't need to beat around the bush. The Royal Knight Order intends to give you the best treatment possible. It's no exaggeration, really. The top talent at Citadel Academy, unshadowed by any 'clan'... Could there be a better rookie candidate?"
It wasn't just because Lucas was strong that he held the vice commander position. Ironically, the factional infighting within the Royal Knight Order had made him—a man with no backing from any clan—the perfect fit for the role.
And for the same reason, if Ban joined...
"I'm still too ignorant of the world to tie myself to one place just yet, Vice Commander."
From Lucas's perspective, it was an absurd response. The Royal Knight Order—the most coveted knighthood for academy students, noble or not. And here he was, personally marking his territory in advance, only to be turned down.
But Lucas smiled. If anything, the look in his eyes as he gazed at Ban held a hint of fondness, like an uncle proud of a cheeky nephew.
"Fair enough. You should take your time deciding where to swing your sword. I get it."
"Thank you."
"Still, kid, try to come to our order if you can. I'd like having a hometown buddy around. We could swap stories. Eh?"
"I'll consider it. Thank you so much for coming today."
"Alright. See you."
Lucas grinned and rose from his seat. Ban licked his lips and watched the man's retreating back. Only after Lucas had left the lounge did Ban finally exhale the breath he'd been holding. His palms were slick with sweat.
'...Lucas is Lucas, alright.'
Not something I can cut just yet.
§
"You're... going to the Royal Knight Order?"
Anya asked hesitantly. In 'Qi Form Transformation' class, Ban extinguished a candle flame with the qi coating his blade and replied.
"No. Not yet."
"...Why? Didn't he come early to recruit you? I figured you'd end up handling nothing but their commissions."
"I've still got a ways to go before fourth year. And... I don't want to get tied down so soon."
"I see."
Anya nodded. Her White Flame had been flickering unevenly for a while now, failing to hold its shape. Ban glanced at her, then slowly directed his blade toward her. The qi from its tip split into dozens of strands, refining Anya's unformed White Flame.
"Focus. What are you doing?"
"I-I'm not feeling great today."
Anya stammered as she refocused on shaping her White Flame. She could usually form a dog or cat just fine, so why was it so hard to concentrate today?
'...Should I really ask to team up with him?'
'No, it's not even team formation period yet. Is it okay to bring it up now?'
'People will think it's weird.'
'Why do I even want to team up in the first place?'
It was a strange feeling. Yeoryeong kept nagging in her head, making her feel like she had to team up with him—but at the same time, like she absolutely shouldn't.
And it was after class that day. On the way to the meditation room, using training as an excuse to walk with Ban, a woman with long brown hair cascading down her back blocked his path. Unlike Anya, she had long, graceful limbs, and her monolidded eyes carried an oddly refined air. Min of the Iseo Clan, was it?
"Senior. Got a minute?"
"Not much. What's up?"
"Um, could you take a look at my form? I've been feeling stuck lately."
"Why not ask the professors?"
"I already did. But you have your own unique style, right, Senior? Please? Pretty please?"
"...Anya, go on ahead to the meditation room. I'll catch up."
"Yay! Thanks, Senior!"
Min immediately hooked her arm through Ban's and cheered. It was so natural that anyone might mistake them for a long-married couple. Anya watched with a sour expression as the two headed to the training grounds. And Min glanced back at her with a smug glint in her eye, like she'd just claimed victory.
'...Why's she looking at me like that?'
'He's just a friend.'
'Everyone's always jumping to stupid conclusions.'
'...Seriously.'
In truth, plenty of underclassmen weren't the only ones clinging to Ban like that—some of his peers did too. After all, when it came to promising careers, no one at the academy could match him. In a way, it was only natural.
Her head was a mess. Anya headed to the meditation room. And suddenly, she winced. "Ugh." There, of all places least suited to meditation, stood a few unwelcome figures a few paces away.
'Shade and Macdead... Why are these guys here?'
At least Yeoryeong wasn't around—small mercies. She sat down and began quietly probing her inner self. Sometimes in words, sometimes not, all sorts of emotions and thoughts from her unconscious bubbled up.
Deeper. Deeper still. Confront thoughts even I didn't know I had. What lies there? Fond memories surfaced, as did ones she'd rather forget. And with those memories, the White Flame dormant deep in her roots slowly coursed through her body.
'Feels languid.'
'...Sleepy.'
'And angry.'
'I don't know why, but just...'
Suddenly, Ban's face appeared. Seeing it made the swirling vortex inside her swell larger. The moment Anya bit her lip and opened her eyes—
"Huh?"
Anya blinked in a daze. Macdead was shouting something, and Shade was glaring at her with a stiff expression. The other students stared back at her in panic.
Only then did Anya realize her White Flame was enveloping her body. And not in any ordinary way—it seemed ready to devour everything around her.
'No!'
Anya desperately tried to control the White Flame. But the blaze surging from the depths of her being refused to heed her will so easily. Writhing like a serpent, it seemed poised to lash out at the other students any second.
'I don't want this.'
'I don't want to burn anything.'
'I don't want to burn... anything...!'
Anya whispered to the White Flame over and over. To lose control like this—it was a mistake from her childhood days. A moment that revealed just how fragile her mental fortitude had become lately, but that wasn't the priority now.
And then it happened. The White Flame seemed to look at her. Or at least, it felt that way. In that instant, Anya realized how alien the White Flame she'd carried her whole life could become. This flame that could burn anything she desired... it was as if it wanted to consume her.
"...This again?"
A sigh-filled voice filled the meditation room. Those skilled in water-attribute transformations were pouring out their qi to extinguish the White Flame, but unlike ordinary fire, it couldn't be doused with water. Ban, facing Anya's shocked expression, let out another sigh. He'd thought it had quieted down lately...
Ban gripped his Huando greatsword and dagger in both hands. He lowered his stance, pointing the blades forward.
The name of the first sword was Deflection.
And the name of the second sword was...
Devour.
True to its name, it was a sword that tore, shredded, chewed, and erased anything in its path.
Ban shot forward, vanishing like a phantom. To those watching from right behind him, it seemed as if he'd shrunk in an instant from sheer speed.
And Ban's blades were even faster than his body.
Tilting his frame, sometimes the dagger, sometimes the Huando greatsword led, ripping into the White Flame. Each line the swords traced made the flames vanish as if devoured; they couldn't regenerate before being torn and swallowed again.
To master this sword, he'd studied countless swordsmen. Among them, dual-wielders like Shade and quick-blade users like Hay. Swift, cunning, seamless. Attack and defense blurred into one, shielding his entire body one moment and engulfing the foe the next.
'...Damn punk.'
Shade clicked his tongue as he watched Ban. He'd come to the meditation room seeking peace of mind, only to run into this. Even now, Ban's second sword made his fists tremble.
He should've seen it coming when Ban started acting all chummy out of nowhere. At some point, Ban had kept challenging him to spars. Shade hadn't loved how Ban fawned over the Cho Clan either, but as a swordsman, he respected the man... so he'd obliged, chalking it up to experience. Never dreaming what scheme lay behind it.
Then Ban had started showing up with dual blades. Shade had scoffed at first. Recognizing the greatness of the Scorpion Sword was praiseworthy, but trying to steal it through spars? Idiotic.
...It should have been idiotic.
Shade swallowed involuntarily. Ban's devouring sword was infuriating and loathsome... yet split-him-in-two beautiful at the same time. Look at that. Erasing the Nahar Clan's White Flame—untameable by any water—purely with the flow of his blade, no blessings needed.
Perhaps this devouring sword of Ban's was the very blade Shade had yearned for. The moment a commoner's edge pierced a noble's pride.
The White Flame let out a horrific shriek, like a scream. But Ban's blades permitted not a single tongue to touch him. At some point, it shrank faster than it could grow...
And Anya collapsed.
Shade gripped the sword at his waist. Could he have done it? Could he have devoured that White Flame? The one that defied control, eager to burn even its master...
Doubting that much already proved his inadequacy. But Ban hadn't hesitated. Hadn't doubted. His blades burned brighter than Anya's White Flame, if that could be said.
What an irony.
Ban, beloved by the greatest nobles, alone held the power to extinguish their flames.