Chapter 52
Chapter 52
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Devil, Witch, and Demon Sword (12)
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Of course, that sword would never reach the sky.
A sword that couldn't reach could never cut.
Even so, he had named it the "Sword that Cuts the Sky" purely as a promise to himself. The dream he had etched into his heart even before he first gripped a sword—no, from the very moment he picked one up.
Sword God Ban. That nickname they always used to tease him with—he wished one day it would truly become his title.
Six swords. What did that mean? That he could wield six types of swordsmanship? No. That couldn't be it. He had handled hundreds of swords so far, and just as many styles. Even sword techniques his mind couldn't recall, his body remembered. Sometimes, when he moved, a sword path would emerge that made him wonder if he had ever known such a technique.
And yet Ban had been called the Five Swords of Ban, and now he wielded a sixth. They were his six promises. Based on these sword techniques, he vowed to himself to complete the swordsman known as "Ban."
He would deflect every sword. He would devour every sword. He would create thousands of strikes from a single sword. A sword that couldn't be dodged, couldn't be sensed.
And someday, with that sword, he would cut the moon and the sky.
"...What an excellent junior."
Yucheong laughed, his arms severed. Just because it was a borrowed body didn't mean he felt no pain. No, factoring in the demonic energy of Kishin seeping into his soul and gnawing at him relentlessly, he was enduring agony beyond what any living person could bear.
But he didn't cry out. He couldn't show such an unsightly display before his junior. Ban looked at Yucheong and asked.
"You must have spent four years at the Academy, Senior."
"I did."
"Even if the kingdom is rotten, you must have seen the parts that aren't. So why? Why did you decide to bring this country down? How could you?"
"Hmm, well..."
Yucheong unexpectedly couldn't answer right away. He reached to scratch his head, then realized his arms were gone and gave a wry smile.
"I don't know. There seemed to be some grand sense of justice or whatever at first, but at some point, I forgot it. All that was left was that the kingdom was run by bad guys, and we needed to build a new country."
"...I see."
Ban raised his sword again. It was a lame answer, but perhaps the question itself could never have a satisfying one.
Yucheong stood tall. He had no more fists to throw, but he didn't run. No long conversation was needed.
He gripped Kishin. Pulled and thrust. The thrust that had pushed back the forest now shoved this gentle senior off his cliff...
All that remained was an empty shell.
"...You won't need to wander anymore."
Convincing himself that true death and enlightenment were a greater blessing for the dead than a false life, Ban turned away. The remnants of the rebels and demon ghosts were still rampaging, but regretfully, the Academy trainees were far too skilled for such fringe drifters to handle. Ban moved forward. He had no intention of watching this predictable play drag on.
It was time for the curtain to fall.
§
"Are you hungry again?"
"It's been a long day. Even breathing is exhausting, Pastor."
"Come in. I'll at least make you some tea."
The pastor silently led Ban into the church. Ban stepped slowly inside. It was late at night, yet quite a few people were there. No one would mistake them for coming to pray or attend service. Their eyes held far too much raw fear for that.
The moment they saw Ban, their faces paled, and they began whispering among themselves. Ban ignored them and met the pastor's gaze.
"Seems I'm not the only one who's worn out."
"If your body is weary, then their hearts are weary."
"...My heart isn't exactly full of pep either, Pastor."
"Ho ho, is that so? Then that's my failing. Here, eat. It's nothing special."
The pastor handed him a potato. Ban held the potato and quietly spoke.
"The witch hasn't been caught."
"...I know."
"You don't need to worry about the murder charges. The real culprit has already been revealed. But the crime of colluding with the Revolutionary Corps... that you won't escape. You'll have to pay the price."
"And the mine...?"
Ban gave a bitter smile.
"At least you won't have to worry about a miner's son living and dying as a miner anymore."
Now that it was clear the mine had been exploited by the Revolutionary Corps, the kingdom wouldn't stay silent.
His wish to return the mine to those who rightfully deserved it had instead ensured no one could have it. Was that wish fulfilled? Or unfulfilled?
The pastor bowed his head weakly. His lost eyes fell on the basket holding only potatoes.
"...I was the only one who joined the Revolutionary Corps."
"..."
"The parishioners were just blindly following me, not knowing what was what. Do you... understand?"
"I do."
The pastor clasped his hands and began praying quietly. Watching him, Ban suddenly wondered. What prayer was he offering now? Was he cursing God, repenting, or grateful that his wish had been granted in some twisted way?
No, at the end of all this... did he still believe in God?
It was a question he couldn't ask.
Ban left the church with a single potato.
The potato, unsalted, was bland and crumbly.
But it filled his stomach.
§
"Then we'll report the mission as a failure, 'Princess.'"
Shade stared straight at Drnoa as he spoke. His voice held no respect or affection. But whether many had shown her such an attitude before, Drnoa nodded as if accustomed to it.
"Indeed. You worked hard."
"...Let's go."
"Ban, wait! This great Macdead will catch up to you soon!"
Macdead's voice was noisy. Shade gave Ban one last look.
'He's gotten stronger again, that bastard.'
The single strike Ban had unleashed before Yucheong wouldn't fade from his mind. The sword itself seemed infused with some mystical power, but...
Failing to catch the witch—no, the princess—was unavoidable. Not even he was confident he could pierce her Word Command. Unless they ambushed her in her sleep and covered her mouth, but he lacked the confidence to do that to royalty.
Shade's group departed. And Ban's group was now about time to leave as well. Anya looked back at Tolzberry, swallowed by fog, and murmured.
"What will happen to this place?"
"Once the mine closes, the town loses its value. Everyone will scatter, probably."
"...Did we cause a whole city to fall?"
"It wasn't because of us. It was a city destined to fall, and it did."
Ban said calmly. That was all. Just as the weak died in battle, cities that couldn't overcome their fate perished. If his heart still lingered on it, did that mean he was still naive? Or kind?
He couldn't tell. Ban turned away. He didn't want to dwell on the past. A swordsman's job was to swing the sword. Anything more... was for kings and nobles.
Escorting Drnoa was nominally protection, but really just keeping her company. Whether walking through forests or anywhere else, her Word Command always hid her from prying eyes.
Mediocre bandits couldn't even find her to begin with, and if they did, their luck had run out. One word from her, and they'd be face-down, breathing dirt instead of air.
Thanks to that, Ban could immerse himself in training whenever he had time. No need to expend stamina, and gripping Kishin even replenished energy he didn't have, easing the burden.
[Your current swordsmanship level is 5-Star. Memory synchronization rate is adjusted to the limit.]
The moment he gripped Kishin, Ban's swordsmanship reached 5-Star. His body strengthened by its demonic energy greatly influenced his swordplay. Even managing to barely assimilate the sixth sword recently was thanks to Kishin's demonic energy.
Kishin's swordsmanship itself wasn't remarkable. The enemies he'd faced with it were intriguing, but that was it.
But that's why training with Kishin gave a peculiar sensation. He layered his swordsmanship over Kishin's still-incomplete one. His sword, once just brute force poured out violently... now with his own power.
It felt like being the conductor of an orchestra. His body became the outlet for Kishin's power. Even moving the same way as before produced different results. Reflecting on that, Ban slowly examined what kind of swordsman he was.
How fast was his thrust? How sharp?
How keen were his eyes, and how did they move?
Did he have habits visible before moving?
It was strange. The more missions he completed, the more he confirmed his strength. But the stronger he got, the thirstier he felt. He had to get stronger. He wanted to. And he could.
Was it odd? After Tolzberry, a battle over countless lives, what stuck most was Yucheong's strength. If he had stood there in his true body, what would it have been like? Without Kishin? Would it still have been him standing here?
Someone might say he was strong enough already. How much stronger could he get? But then Ban would look up at the sky again.
It still didn't reach his sword.
Not even knowing why he wanted to cut it, Ban swung diligently. Toward the horizon. Toward the moon. Toward the sky.
It was one such day. Drnoa watched Ban training and asked.
"Ban. Why do you want to get stronger?"
"Hmm, if there's a reason, it's just that I like getting stronger."
"What will you do once you're strong?"
"Cut the sky."
"...And after you cut it?"
"See what a sky sliced by a sword looks like."
"Pfft, what a wastrel's reason."
Drnoa laughed roughly, pausing her smoke. Ban glanced at her and asked.
"Then why are you running away, Princess? The palace has every delicacy, and everyone bows to you."
"Because of the delicacies, and because everyone bows to me."
"That doesn't make sense."
"It wouldn't to you. I don't always get it myself. But I don't get why you want to get stronger either, so we're even, right?"
"...Do you hate the kingdom?"
Ban finally asked the question he'd always wanted to. And deep down, he hoped for a 'yes.' Why? Maybe because hearing this kingdom's flower deny it would be amusing.
"No, I love it. Even the roadside weeds that sprout and wither."
So when those words came, he didn't know what to say. Drnoa puffed her cigarette at Ban's dumbfounded face. Smoke veiled her languid smile.
"But you can't, can you?"
"...Me? Pardon?"
"You're no ordinary swordsman. Normally, just gripping it would drive you mad. But you handled that monster sword like any other... Either you've got skill beyond my imagination, or..."
Drnoa leaned in. Cigarette smoke and her blue eyes approached slowly. Curiosity and mischief lingered there, then faded to loneliness.
"You have some other power."
"Other power...?"
"For example, yeah. Like the lord of the goblins decades ago..."
Drnoa said it offhandedly, as if it were nothing.
"Reading swords, or something."