Chapter 51
Chapter 51
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Demon, Witch, and Demon Sword (11)
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“That sword… I don’t like it. A cursed blade, is it?”
“It calls itself a holy sword, but it’s a demon sword through and through.”
Ban shrugged as he replied, eyeing Kishin. The blade pulsed as it stomped the churning earth, flashing a toothy grin.
“Looks like a goblin full of grudges possessed it at night.”
“...You pick up all sorts of knowledge living a long life, huh, Senior? Which is why I’ve got one question.”
Ban’s eyes sharpened.
“What’s your plan?”
“You’re asking the enemy that?”
“No matter how I look at it, this doesn’t seem like much of a plan.”
Ban glanced at the people buried in the ground. Drinoa’s Word Command held a power unlike any blade. The fact that everyone here who couldn’t wield Qi was sunk into the earth showed she was practically invincible against ordinary folk.
Did Yucheong know about her? That the witch here was actually a princess.
If so, would he have come with such meager forces?
“...You didn’t expect this, did you, Senior?”
“Hah, I’m used to it. My life’s always been a tangled mess.”
Yucheong grinned. Only then did Ban spot the tension hidden behind that seemingly relaxed smile. Right. If he’d known the witch was a princess, he wouldn’t have dared touch her. Messing with the royal family was like playing with a bomb.
The rebels might slip away somehow, but if word got back later, this city was doomed. His steps, taken to help in his own way, had steered the city toward its worst fate.
Even now, Anya—cloaked head to toe in White Flame—smashed through the demon ghosts like a war chariot. Before her White Flame, which purged all evil, the demon ghosts couldn’t show their strength.
Yeoryeong, Shade, Macdead, and the others went without saying. They were all pre-graduates from the Academy. Unless a high-ranking rebel officer showed up, these agents hiding in Tolzberry just... weren’t enough.
But that was precisely why Yucheong raised his fist.
“Want to hear an embarrassing confession?”
“Go ahead.”
“Word came from Revolutionary Corps HQ. Abandon Tolzberry. Withdraw.”
It was only natural. Their original goal here was to carve a path for the Night Legion while evading the kingdom’s eyes. But if the kingdom had already sniffed them out... holding Tolzberry meant little.
“Then why didn’t you leave?”
“If I go, what happens to this city? It gets trampled, crushed. Isn’t it the right thing to at least try saving it?”
“...That ‘right thing’ will get you killed.”
Yucheong laughed.
“I’m already dead, you fool.”
Ban emotionlessly raised his sword. Why was this ghost, draped in corpses, smiling so purely? Even with a living body and heart, Ban couldn’t imagine himself wearing that smile.
“All the Revolutionary Corps members in Tolzberry followed my lead. Maybe it’s natural. It’s just a pit stop for me, but it’s home for them. They want to defend it somehow.”
“...Might sound sudden, but I don’t hate you for it, Senior.”
Ban lifted his broadsword and dagger. The second sword. Swallowing Strike.
It was swordsmanship worlds apart from the fifth sword he’d wielded with just a dagger—qualitatively different from the start. A barrage too fast for the eye to follow poured out, like a swarm of hundreds of bees clinging on. If it was the Yucheong he remembered, he’d at least take a scratch from this.
But Yucheong dodged and blocked it all.
“...So it wasn’t a lie that you got a decent body.”
The difference was clear in reflexes and speed alone. And...
Boom!
...Power too.
He’d tried to deflect it, but couldn’t fully. Ban recoiled half a step, frowning at Yucheong. Steam rose from his fully extended fist, white as snow.
The resolve that a punch once thrown would never be pulled back.
That will saturated the fist. A borrowed Deflection couldn’t shrug it all off—a will, a Qi, like that.
Yucheong smiled.
“Too hard? Want me to go easy?”
“...No thanks. There’s a princess behind me.”
Ban gripped his broadsword tighter.
“Gotta put on a good show.”
Swallowing Strike.
And Invisible Sword.
Amid the suffocatingly dense barrage, blades of Qi jaggedly stretched toward Yucheong’s throat. A situation where his head could fly any second—but it all ended with one punch from Yucheong.
No matter how many angles he attacked from, it meant nothing. The vortex swirling around his fist sucked in and pulverized every assault. Then it advanced to crush Ban too.
—He’s strong. Ban.
He heard Yuri’s groan. He knew. Strong. A swordsman like this would’ve been at least 5-Star. If he appeared in his true body... maybe even stronger than now.
And such a man was now throwing everything into this fight, unconcerned with consequences. It’d be weirder if he were easy to beat.
Ban breathed through his open mouth. Thoughts flooded in and out with each inhale and exhale. How should he fight?
First sword.
Yucheong’s punch was too massive for Deflection.
Second sword.
A barrage just got swallowed by the vortex around his fist.
Third and fourth swords were meaningless for the same reason.
Fifth sword... without total darkness, hard to use properly.
That left only the sixth sword...
‘Can I do it?’
Ban reached for Kishin. He’d only attempted it so far, but with Kishin, maybe the odds were better. Especially against a demon ghost like Yucheong...
“Why’d the attacks stop? Scared?”
“No way.”
“Sorry, but I don’t plan to drag this out. The quicker I win, the fewer losses on our side.”
Yucheong spoke as if they still had hope. Even as the ground quaked in rejection.
A hero’s will clearly dwelled in him.
He wanted to cut him down.
He didn’t want to cut him down.
Conflicting urges tormented Ban. He really didn’t hate this man. He wanted a friend, not a foe. Yet in the end, he had only one choice.
Ban sheathed his broadsword and dagger, raising Kishin. Yucheong’s brow furrowed, and an indescribable thrill curled Ban’s lips.
—Kill.
—Tear the night apart.
—Erase even those stained by night.
Echoes like hallucinations rang in his mind. It wasn’t just Kishin’s will. The obsessions of countless who’d wielded this sword before shook his body. The Voice of the Sword could block that will shaking him, but not the lingering echo in his ears.
‘Shut up.’
Ban gritted his teeth, igniting his gaze. Facing a high-level demon ghost, Kishin’s demonic energy blazed like a torch. Flames vowing to burn all worldly evils rose even from Ban’s skin and eyes.
“W-what is that...?”
“Ban...?”
Even the others locked in battle stared at him in disbelief. A sight more sinister than any they’d seen—even more ominous than the demon ghosts.
“Huh, that’s...”
Drinoa, watching from behind, wearily lifted her eyes to Ban. The sword’s power itself wasn’t surprising. What amazed her was that Ban remained himself despite drawing such force. Demon swords, holy swords, cursed blades—they all consumed their wielders...
‘No way.’
The thought flashed through Drinoa’s mind as Ban spoke.
“If we’d met at the Academy, I bet you’d have liked this, Senior.”
“...Really? I think you’re pretty good right here.”
Yucheong smiled faintly. That smile still so pure—Ban stared only at his eyes, not his mouth. Amid the demonic energy filling his body screaming to devour the man before him, Ban focused on his own voice.
Power surged. His body felt light, unbelievable after days of nonstop movement and fighting. Sounds came. Leaves crumbling to ash. Hearts pounding. Yucheong’s breath.
He felt every fiber of muscle. How to move for peak efficiency, air currents’ flow—all told him how to fight.
So he leaped.
“...!”
A speed incomparable to before. It had to be. Senses, power, Qi—all fuller than ever. Even compared to usual with Kishin. With so many demon ghosts around, Kishin raged more viciously than ever.
And that viciousness calmed only upon reaching Ban’s body.
He had built-up training. Stolen experiences. Wielding Kishin, Ban saw how it had swung his body before. It was a fine sword, but no fine swordsman.
Just dumping blind rage into the blade with brute demonic energy.
But what he wanted to pour in wasn’t rage.
His life, his greed, and... a touch of respect.
Ban swung down. It resembled his old master’s Overhead Slash. But the result was utterly different.
Air was crushed. Ignited. Vision warped, atmosphere sliced and falling.
The blade clashed straight with Yucheong’s punch. A punch once thrown never retracts—meaning nothing could block it.
Like lightning striking lightning. Each clash of Ban’s Kishin and Yucheong’s fist boomed like thunder. Some nearby were flung just from proximity; even Drinoa’s Word Command-held earth couldn’t budge.
‘Dangerous.’
Staring at Kishin’s flames, Yucheong instinctively knew. Even unbound by flesh, a slash from that blade wouldn’t leave him unscathed. So he punched desperately.
But Ban was the same.
Each swing, each draw of Kishin’s power, let him glimpse memories hidden within. He faced the countless wraiths, goblins, and man-eaters Kishin had cut, and cut them down.
Perhaps victory was decided there. Fighting while absorbing dozens of battles to grow—unless crushed by overwhelming skill, winning was... impossible from the start.
The roars from Ban and Yucheong gradually quieted. Neither tired; both had stamina left. But the demonic energy on Ban’s blade... grew thinner, sharper bit by bit.
As noise faded, scratches began appearing on Yucheong’s unrelenting fist. Seeing it, Ban focused harder, swinging. He didn’t think what this fight was for. The power filling him, controlling it... too thrilling, ecstatic.
‘What was its name?’
Sixth sword. He’d thought of a name.
Doesn’t matter. Swing the sword. Isn’t it this fun? This full?
Cho Swordsmanship. Overhead Slash. All experiences layered over Ban’s shell. And that moment—Yucheong fancied hundreds of faces overlaying Ban’s.
A flash of light streaked.
“...”
“...”
Silence fell. Yucheong’s fist, like the conviction he’d held lifelong, didn’t retreat to the end. Just extended... and severed.
Over his fist—now just the thumb—Ban’s face appeared. Briefly holding hundreds of swordsmen’s faces, he was now an ordinary youth.
Yucheong laughed. One fist left. Shift stance, twist hips, punch...
The sword strike came again.
Sixth sword.
Ban dared name it Sword that Cuts the Sky.