Chapter 55
Chapter 55
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: Swordsman? Or Knight? (3)
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There’s a saying about cutting water with a sword.
No matter how much you slash at water, those wounds hold no meaning. And it was the same with fire. Of course, the White Flame that Anya unleashed right now boasted such destructive power that one might hesitate to even call it “fire,” but it was obvious that slashing it wouldn’t make any difference either.
Even so, Ban slashed at it. As if whether it held meaning or not was irrelevant to him. As if no matter what realistic or logical reasons you threw at him, he would still dedicate his life to this “slash.”
Yuri strengthened his Deflection but didn’t assist with the slash itself. But that didn’t matter.
He might die. A duel didn’t necessarily mean neither side would die. From overheating, a slippery hand, or any reason, they lived in a world where life could end at any moment.
But that wasn’t a reason for Ban to feel fear. Of course, he didn’t want to die. Especially not in a duel like this. But if he did die, it would just mean he was that kind of man—nothing more. Whether due to lack of skill or luck, shortcomings weren’t an excuse.
To wield a sword is to walk the blade’s edge.
You could fall at any time, and death always waited at the bottom.
Screeeeech! When sword met fire, a sound like thousands of bells rang out from the tip of Ban’s blade. Ban’s life and Anya’s life were clashing. Ban’s life was slashing and splitting Anya’s life apart.
Yes. That was undoubtedly a slash.
“……This is Ban.”
The freshmen forgot even to gasp in admiration, lost in awe. They were talented enough to enter the academy—they could gauge the level of this clash.
The path of a man who had devoted his life to the sword was revealed in that single slash. Fire isn’t meant to be cut. That’s common sense.
And Qi was the stubbornness of a swordsman that transcended common sense.
Ban’s sword and Anya’s White Flame, locked in a fierce standoff, raced toward their conclusion. It seemed like the flame might bypass the blade and engulf Ban, but strangely, the White Flame clung to his sword, unable to move an inch.
It had no choice. What it touched wasn’t just the blade. It was Ban the swordsman himself—his very life.
Anya didn’t want to win by dodging the blade either. This fight only had meaning if she burned him blade and all. She gritted her teeth, barely holding back tears.
‘You’re going to be that stubborn?’
Was there a more passionate, fervent rejection in the world? Should she be happy or sad to receive such a refusal?
In her confusion, Anya poured more power into her White Flame. She wanted to reject him too. His attitude, his life—despite herself, she threw a tantrum.
To outsiders, their fight might look like an incredibly high-level clash. But inside, it was more pathetic than it appeared. It was just a spoiled plea from an ugly woman begging to be seen.
And that tantrum was ultimately slashed apart.
Ban’s sword tip pointed toward the ground. The clash that had blinded onlookers with its intensity had quieted, and the beam that had torn the earth white was nowhere to be seen.
Anya collapsed to her knees powerlessly. She felt like she didn’t have the strength to lift a single finger. Ban panted roughly, a smile on his lips. He tore off the heat-shriveled hem of his clothes and looked at Anya.
“Ha…… I’m impressed, Anya. When did you get this strong? At this rate, I don’t know when I’ll hand over the top spot.”
Annoying guy. She wanted to snap back, but she didn’t have the energy to speak. Anya just stared at Ban silently. He walked slowly to her side and plopped down on the ground. Laughing brightly, he patted her shoulder.
“You’re doing great. Just keep it up.”
“……”
Anya couldn’t say a word. She wanted to complain that was all he had to say, but it felt petty to gripe at someone who had faced her tantrum head-on like this. She reached out a hand. Dusting off his charred collar, she said,
“……Sorry. Your clothes are all burned.”
“It’s fine. No big deal.”
“Free Knights don’t exactly have deep pockets.”
“An ordinary Free Knight wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, you’re not ordinary. You’re annoyingly not.”
Anya smiled weakly. Yeah. He’d always been like this. From the beginning until now, he hadn’t changed.
The only thing she could grasp was this collar, at best.
Just like always. Probably forever.
§
It didn’t take Ban long to complete his graduation mission. Even if it was a Royal Knight Order assignment, it wouldn’t have been too hard for someone of his caliber. Besides, he’d taken on a simple task: dealing with ronin harassing a village near the Citadel.
Sure, those ronin had some reputation, but it wasn’t a big deal to Ban. Once the mission was done, he dove straight into training. He sought out stronger opponents, met with juniors, and sometimes offered small bits of guidance.
Before he knew it, graduation day had arrived sooner than expected.
So many had come to the academy dreaming of becoming knights, but on graduation day, only about half of them stood in the plaza. Some had died, some vanished, some given up. No one dwelled on their empty spots or excuses.
And rightly so—graduation day was special. Academy trainees were all knighted upon graduation. And the one doing the knighting was no other than…… the King.
Even nobles, even scions of the Nine Great Clans, couldn’t help but tense at facing the King. Ban wondered. Even Drnoa had that presence. What would the King, who watched over all his subjects, be like?
Was he strong? If so, what kind of strength?
After bowing toward the Royal Palace visible on the cliff above the plaza, they formed ranks and marched toward it. Citizens along the way stopped, doffed their hats, and paid respects upon seeing the procession.
It wasn’t flashy. They just walked. Yet the Citadel that day was wrapped in an inexplicable reverence, as if the city itself performed a ritual.
Centuries of pride from past graduates shone on their faces. With each step toward the palace, with each respectful gaze from the crowd, their steps grew heavier, their hearts fuller.
And when they finally stood before the inverted waterfall, the emotion peaked.
“To think I’d get to ride this……”
Jeo trailed off in感動. The inverted waterfall wasn’t a natural phenomenon, of course. Legend said the founding King made it rise eternally with a single word. It was a symbol of the royal family—and not accessible to just anyone.
But what moved Ban wasn’t that. Not the gazes or the waterfall.
Thud! Thud!
As they ascended the waterfall, majestic footsteps greeted them. The Royal Knight Order. Dozens of knights stood in formation, flanking the carpet before them.
And seeing them, Ban first regretted his decision to become a Free Knight.
Gulp.
Swallows echoed. Some from tension, some from excitement, all calming racing hearts for different reasons.
For Ban, it was thrill.
‘They’re this strong……?’
Just looking filled him with defeat—not a few, but so many he couldn’t count. The kingdom’s strongest, gathered in the Royal Knight Order. It made sense, but……
His blood boiled. He wanted to thrust his sword at them, pillow his head on theirs. He wondered about their world. Why dream of the world when they were the world itself?
Foolish thoughts, he knew, but regret seized him. Sensing his aura, some knights glanced back, snorted, smiled kindly, or stuck out tongues.
But he had to pass. Not the time. Ignoring the thirst raging inside, Ban walked past the Royal Knight Order.
‘Terrifying pressure.’
Just passing shortened lives by a year. Even his companions held their breath momentarily.
But even that paled compared to what lay ahead.
Perception shattered. Common sense crumbled. Everything he knew fell away, leaving only…… inexplicable terror and awe.
‘……Ah.’
Thoughts wouldn’t connect. Not just Ban—his companions stared at the distant throne with unfocused, entranced eyes, as if possessed.
Then, Dean Jayden’s voice enveloped them.
“Dean of Citadel Academy, scribe of House Ballgot, Jayden, approaches His Majesty the Great King.”
No reply. The heaviest silence Ban had ever known. He clenched his fists, gritted teeth. How to describe it? A visceral rejection—not as a living being, but as existence itself.
The one before him wasn’t human on the same plane. Not just status. If he spoke, hearing the voice alone might scatter all Ban had built like sand.
‘No, it won’t.’
Ban half-clenched his fist. Imagined a sword that shouldn’t be there. He wouldn’t vanish. Couldn’t. Too much left to slash, too much he wanted to.
The time he’d built, embraced—it wasn’t so insignificant.
And then.
“Long time no see, Jayden. Seems like a good crop of graduates this year.”
“Who’s to judge the wheat from the chaff, but compared to other classes, their bonds were deep. Pushing and pulling each other—naturally, the results followed, I dare say.”
“I see. Is that so.”
The King’s voice was formal. Sometimes it dripped overt affection, other times cold indifference.
The same during the knighting. Knightings weren’t ordinary. Only royalty could do them, and a single blessing could shape a knight’s life.
“Very well. Forget not your intent, and may you forever be a knight illuminating the night.”
“That resolve to live unashamedly shall never lose its light.”
“Yes, Eustaine has always yielded to nature’s laws. So shall your life.”
Like that. The King called graduates one by one. Drawn by Word Command or will, they couldn’t tell, they stepped forward. Stated goals as bidden, received fitting blessings.
Then Ban’s turn.
“Graduate Ban, step forward.”
Was it Word Command? Unclear. Ban fought hazy consciousness, stepped slowly.
Up close, the King was an aged man.
Features sharp, but depths unseen. Eyes too deep to sense depth; voice so kind it chilled.
Yet his presence overwhelmed just standing before him.
“So, what kind of knight do you wish to become?”
Ban expected Drnoa talk, but none. Maybe the King didn’t know him. Academy top graduate wasn’t worth royal notice.
Unspoken, but attitude and tone made Ban feel insignificant. So he gripped his imagined sword tighter, continued slowly.
“I…… will become the world’s strongest swordsman, Your Highness.”
Childish for the King. But Ban wouldn’t hide or dress up his lifelong dream. He reflected in the King’s eyes. They’d been on him, but now Ban felt truly seen.
“……World’s strongest swordsman. Your intent lies more with the sword than the knight?”
“A dream since childhood. This humble one may be a knight, but at root, a swordsman. Thus, to your question of what knight…… I can only give this vague answer. My apologies, Your Highness.”
Ban spoke longest among graduates. Each word crushed him with indescribable pressure.
Yet he didn’t yield.
Not now. Speaking his dream.
How could he cower?
Other graduates’ gazes turned. They knew he was different, but what drove his audacity?
A smile touched the King’s lips. They might not know, but here Word Commands numbering dozens, hundreds permeated unseen. Fear the King. Revere him. Speak formally. No idle words. Waste not his time. Pledge loyalty……
Before history-lost Word Commands, his sword-passion demanded utterance.
How endearing.
“No need to apologize, young swordsman. Yes. Henceforth, your sword shall lead you to greater heights. Duels your daily life, growth your constant end. Yes. Become it.”
The King’s voice resounded.
“World’s strongest swordsman.”
That day, did Ban become a knight? Or a swordsman?
Even he couldn’t tell.
All done. He was a knight now, to wander the world growing stronger. That’s what remained—or so all thought. Thus, hearing of his duel next day, they were aghast.
His opponent was……
“……Felt like if not now, no chance.”
Lucas.
“Please.”
Ban smiled. Long-awaited moment.
Royal Knight Order. Vice Commander of that monster haven. For Ban, who’d learned swordsmanship gripping Lucas’s blade, it was inevitable curiosity.
How many steps closer now?
No.
How many left?