Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: The Path of the Swordsman (1)
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That day, Ban and Jensen shared no further conversation.
There was simply too much they had put off for a single night to unload everything. Because of that, there was no need to rush.
And so, it was only a few days later that Ban learned what hardships Jensen had endured after being captured by the murderer.
"You mean he made you brew drugs?"
"Yeah. He brought me the recipe and some strange powder, then forced me to make the drug right there. It seemed like some kind of elixir."
"At least that's a relief. When I first saw that vial... I was worried you might have become that guy's experimental subject, Master."
"You were overthinking it."
Jensen snorted. But from Ban's perspective, he had no choice but to worry. The master he had known his entire life had been hiding something enormous like his origins... Nothing more could seem strange after that.
'If that drug keeps spreading... it's going to cause all sorts of headaches.'
It might not mean much to a knight of his level, but if even a novice murderer like that knew the recipe, and the drug became commonplace... the Kingdom might plunge into even greater chaos than now.
But that wasn't his concern anyway. He was nothing more than a Free Knight without a lord. All he needed to worry about was himself.
"So. What are your plans now?"
"I need to train."
"...Is becoming the world's strongest really your only goal?"
"I'm still not sure if I can even achieve that one. Do I have the luxury for another?"
Ban shrugged. He swung Yuri through the empty air, regulating his breathing. Even though he was only cutting air, every time Jensen watched the trajectory of Ban's sword, it felt like his breath might stop. A beauty reaching the realm of art dwelled in that slash.
'Fate can be so persistent.'
He had tried so hard to keep him away from the sword, yet it ended like this. Jensen smiled bitterly as he watched Ban train. Ban swung the sword until even watching became tedious. It reminded him of Ban's childhood self.
He couldn't help but cheer for him.
"...The Seonwoo Clan's librarians each could read different things."
Jensen began his tale.
"Some read trees, some buildings. Some read instruments, others food. And... very rarely, there were librarians who read swords."
They were called Guardians.
That was what Jensen said.
Ban made no reply. He didn't stop swinging his sword. It wasn't that he lacked interest in Jensen's words. Every time he swung the sword, every time the line traced by the blade grew straighter, his mind found greater peace. No matter what Jensen said, he wouldn't waver.
"Like you with your sword, those people devoted their lives to what we could read. That's why, when the North faced destruction, no one abandoned the Kalsmori Library. They stayed with the North until the end."
"...My parents were like that too?"
No matter how much he tried not to think of the Seonwoo Clan, Ban couldn't hold back that question. Jensen smiled bitterly.
"Your parents were good, upright people."
"...What did they read?"
"Your father read charcoal, your mother pottery. They were the finest—no, the world's finest—charcoal makers and potters in Kalsmori."
"I see."
Once more, the sword cleaved the air. Rage, sorrow, resentment gathered at the tip, where they belonged, and vanished with the fading sword light.
It was absurd. Ban had never seen his parents' faces, yet just hearing about them stirred an inexplicable fury from somewhere deep within.
But that fury guiding his sword was enough for this moment.
'...Were they happy?'
"Probably. No one ever saw them fight."
"Were you... in Kalsmori, Master?"
"I inherited the Seonwoo blood, but not the Seonwoo blessing."
So all he could do was serve as an assistant to a librarian who read 'herbs,' at best.
He wasn't even permitted to write his own book to leave in the Kalsmori Library. Those who couldn't 'read' couldn't 'write' either. Jensen spoke calmly of his own dull life.
"...Why did the Kingdom abandon the North?"
"Who knows."
Jensen shook his head as if he didn't know either.
"Does the reason matter now?"
"...Not really."
Once more, a slash. A thrust. A deflection. Then a diagonal cut.
With every swing, his mind grew calmer. Petty emotions like hatred faded, filled only by passion for the sword. Amid that sad passion, Ban spoke.
"I'll probably forget this conversation by today."
"...That might be for the best."
"Is it okay to forget?"
"That's not a question I can answer. But..."
Jensen continued slowly.
"There's no need to defy it either."
§
"So, has your anger subsided a bit?"
"It wasn't really anger so much as..."
Ban scratched his head with a awkward expression. Considering the prickly aura Jensen had shown when kidnapped, it wasn't strange for Aidan to ask.
Aidan smiled gently.
"You've grown so much. I almost didn't recognize you."
"Five years is a long time."
"Yes. A long time."
"...The village atmosphere feels a bit different from what I expected."
Aidan smiled wearily. He had reason to say that. Even as a village of fugitives, Shionel Village's security wasn't bad. The only issues were clumsy thugs at worst, which the guard unit could handle easily.
But a murderer who wielded Qi. And with strange elixirs to boot.
"These things happen. So, how long do you plan to stay?"
A strange hope flickered on Aidan's face as he asked. He couldn't gauge Ban's strength precisely, but he knew it surpassed most knights. From the guard captain's view, having Ban stay would be a godsend.
"Not too long."
"...I see. You have somewhere else to go?"
"There's a place I promised to visit... and staying in one spot makes me antsy."
Even the Royal Knight Order, offering him the best treatment, had been left behind. Aidan sighed.
"A shame. Just your presence would deter most troublemakers."
"I didn't think you'd say something so weak, Captain. Not like you."
"You're stronger than me now."
Aidan grinned. Only then did Ban realize this bear of a man had grown weaker than him. It wasn't Aidan stepping back. Ban had simply advanced so far.
"I believe you'll protect this village, Captain."
"...Even after so many died by that murderer's hand?"
"What happened to him?"
Ban’s eyes gleamed coldly. He wasn't exuding any aura, yet his gaze alone stung the skin. Aidan smiled bitterly, anew amazed at Ban's realm. Even without drawing his sword, Ban himself had become a blade. The dream of all swordsmen.
"He's still under interrogation. He spilled his motives without us even asking. He thought the man who raped his sister was hiding in Shionel Village."
"...Then he should have hunted down that rapist. Why kill innocent villagers?"
"He asked if anyone had seen someone with the same tattoo as the culprit. No one answered. You know the basic rule of Shionel Village: don't ask, don't tell about pasts before arriving. He came up empty, returned to find his sister hanged... and snapped."
Neighbors kept each other's pasts secret. It was the rule for fugitives to build real lives. In a way, Ban was alive thanks to that rule, so he had no right to criticize it. He sighed and shook his head.
"The world is always so complicated. That's why I hate being tied down. Life gets rough around people who excel at escalating things."
"Haha, I get it."
"What was that drug?"
Aidan's expression grew serious at the question. He clutched his head and sighed.
"Isn't it obvious? Only the Porter Clan could make something like that... or..."
"The Revolutionary Corps."
Ban murmured quietly. Aidan looked at him oddly before replying.
"...Yeah, rebels like that. He claims he got the ingredients and recipe from some unknown person... But the real issue is whether more like him with that drug will keep showing up..."
"Headache incoming."
Ban sighed. He might handle it, but the drug's effects were beyond ordinary people. Even a commoner could tear apart beasts barehanded.
But that wasn't his worry either. He began edging back subtly.
"Speaking of which, I have a request."
"...A request?"
"I heard you're a Free Knight now. Doesn't that mean you take jobs from anyone?"
"That's true... but it's weird getting one from you, Captain."
"You know who backs Shionel Village."
Ban’s face hardened. Anyone born and raised in Shionel knew who Aidan meant.
"No way... from him?"
"Yeah."
Aidan said.
"Could you bring the Master here?"
§
Master. That's what the people of Shionel called him. Few knew his name. No need to. He neither appeared in the village nor lived there. Far east of Shionel Village lay a rocky mountain, reachable only after a long trek. No proper path led there. That's where the Master's hut stood.
No sane person would climb it. Rumors about the Master were all vague, but they unanimously painted him as someone not to associate with.
Appearing before a woodcutter who dropped his axe in a pond to hand him a pickaxe, turning a child's precious doll into a frog, and such. His bizarre antics were enough to dash any expectations.
Yet the 'Master' remained unforgettable in Shionel because rumors said the fugitives' tolerance stemmed from his protection. Those hunting Shionel fugitives got lost and turned back, or fell from horses and broke legs. It happened too often for coincidence, so people believed in his protection.
And so, Ban wanted even less to climb that mountain.
'...Master used to threaten to sell me to the Master if I kept crying as a kid.'
The peak was shrouded in clouds. Beyond those clouds lay the Master. That terrifying, dreadful Master.
It felt off, but he couldn't hesitate forever. Ban tied his hair tightly and kicked off the ground. A mountain that took hours for most reached its end as he ran, the scenery sliding past like on ice.
Just as he thought he'd reach the summit and meet the Master soon, Ban felt an odd dissonance. As if he were circling the same path endlessly...
Ban’s feet stopped.
"Ha."
He laughed as if amused. Something was distorting his senses. He didn't know what. But it didn't matter.
Ban drew his sword. He'd experienced sense distortion before meeting Siraz's Kane. Since then, he'd imagined such scenarios dozens of times. Without Anya's White Flame that day, he'd have been utterly defeated. He wouldn't have even swung properly.
So Ban needed an answer. If he faced Kane again, how should he respond?
Ban drew the Broadsword. Yuri's experience and will flowed into his hand. The sword he'd used longest in life. He might not feel his own weight, but Yuri's was unmistakable.
Yuri's size, balance, the flow of air along its edge.
'The Sword that Cuts the Sky.'
Explosive Qi gathered on the Broadsword to an absurd degree, then dwindled. It could distort his world, blind his eyes, deafen his ears. But no one could block this 'slash.' Interfere. Confuse.
For that sword was Ban himself.
The Qi, vast as an ancient tree, shrank. Bit by bit, steadily. As it did, the space around his blade warped grotesquely.
'A bit more.'
He endured. Felt Yuri's senses. The world touched and passed him. Even if the ground crumbled, with Yuri in hand, Ban knew he wouldn't waver.
How else could he call himself a swordsman?
Gather Qi. Gather mind. Your life, your existence, thoughts, dreams...
"Pleasure to meet you, Master."
He poured his greeting into the thrust and unleashed it.