Chapter 71
Chapter 71
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: What Does the Sword Cut? (2)
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The blade flashes.
The power of the Storm Sword exerted itself even more against corrupt beings like Kishin. In some ways, it was no different from White Flame. It might fall a bit short compared to White Flame, which could burn anything to ashes if one willed it, but at least against those tainted by the night.
'What am I cutting with this sword?'
'For what?'
'……To become the world's strongest?'
'To obtain a sword?'
Once a ripple had formed, it never vanished so easily. Ban thought and thought. Sometimes he even thought just to avoid thinking. But the tip of his sword grew heavier with distracting thoughts, and the more that happened, the clearer his openings became.
"Make way."
"We cannot do that."
"Are you daring to block our path with a sword lacking conviction……!"
"Do you have conviction, old man?"
Ban spoke as blood flowed from him. He had kept his word. Not a single one who tried to cross the line he had drawn escaped his blade without exception. Kishin's qi, which devoured the corrupt, could even wound their granted immortality.
But it demanded a price from him as well. His left arm was slashed down to the bone, and blood streamed from his torn eyebrow, making it hard to even open his left eye.
A metallic taste filled his mouth. He felt like he might drop his sword at any moment. It was hard to find an uninjured spot on his body—harder than any injury he'd suffered in his life. And that made sense. He had been bitten, slashed, and beaten. Of course, just as many vampires were grinding their teeth with wounds of their own, but it was obvious that defeat awaited him at the end of this fight.
—This isn't looking good, Ban.
'I know. But we have to buy time. The signal hasn't come yet.'
—You need to judge wisely. Will you risk your life just to stall for a bit, or plan for the future? Do you have the strength to run……?
'Senior.'
Ban murmured quietly.
'I don't want to become a swordsman who runs away.'
It might sound foolish. But for a swordsman, the blade was conviction enough. A swordsman who clung to other convictions would eventually miss what a true swordsman gripping the hilt should grasp.
Kishin's flames roared once more. Facing the green-glowing swordsman, the old man let out a groan.
"……Can our conviction make you yield the path?"
"It won't. In any case, the reason I can't yield seems pretty clear."
The moment Ban yielded the path, the mission would fail, and Munet and Arotep would be in danger. Ban had no intention of pushing his comrades into the fire pit because of his own dilemmas. And yet, he had to ask.
"What are you protecting?"
Was it the queen out of courtesy, the young lady? Or was it that cursed life where all they could do was drink blood every day and avoid the sun? Were they protecting the continuation of that miserable existence?
Or were they protecting their own lives? If she continued her unstable life, they wouldn't have to face death either?
"What must be protected."
The old man answered thus. A firm resolve flickered faintly atop his raised blade. Unlike Ban, there was no hesitation in his eyes.
"Someday, when the end comes, she will have the right to look back on her life amid those who worry for and protect her."
"……Is that all?"
Vampires weren't fools. They knew their lives were cursed. Some got drunk on the word "eternity" and roamed the world as they pleased, but that was ultimately childish thinking.
All the world's food turned to ash between their teeth, and under the sun, they suffered rotting flesh every day. Their immortality was not an eternal blessing but an eternal punishment.
And yet, they protected their master within that punishment. Solely because they must.
Before such beings, how shabby was Ban's sword.
'The world's strongest…… what is it?'
Ban asked himself. If he cut them down, obtained the sword, reached 6-Star, 7-Star, 8-Star…… and no one could challenge him anymore, would that make him the world's strongest?
Was the world's strongest he wanted to become something so simplistic and lackluster?
In the end, Ban could no longer postpone the question he'd been avoiding. What was his sword for? To cut what had he become the Sword God? Heaven and moon. Between them, what would he cut?
Through battles from Citadel Academy and beyond, Ban had realized one thing. There were many who spoke of justice in the world, each with their own reasons for being right. But he couldn't heed every justice, nor judge each one right or wrong.
So deep down, he thought this: in the end, just bare his fangs against those who did so to him.
But look at right now. They were protecting their comrades, their master, just as he was. What justice could he find in cutting them down?
Was justice even a fitting ornament atop a blade?
He could no longer delay the answer. To trample into others' lives with mud-caked shoes when he didn't even know his own path—that was too irresponsible.
"……Allow me a proper introduction. I'm Ban of Shionel Village."
Ban wiped the blood covering his left eye with his sleeve. His expression grew unusually solemn. Kishin's ghostly qi faded as if vanishing. And between that subsiding ghostly qi, Ban's own qi began to surge as if overflowing.
"On the request of Ballgot Erok, I've come to escort Root's young lady. And now, I'm standing here to tie your feet…… but tying just your feet seems the harder task."
What reasons were there? Well, to protect his comrades, fulfill his mission, and obtain the Guardian's Sword…… perhaps.
Ban murmured as if reciting.
"I'll sever the curse you couldn't."
The vampires slowly rose. Beings whose names alone made the world call them wicked and vicious—they gazed at Ban, harboring an inexplicable fervor behind their ferocity. Kishin's spirit cried out. Rely on my power now. I'll grant you the strength to burn all those vampires.
But Ban's eyes sank deeper than ever. It was time to stop baring fangs in blind intoxication with power.
"A curse we couldn't sever……"
Sometimes, even from curses, people find reasons to live.
The vampire who still considered himself human spoke.
"My name is Ropo. Remember it. I'll remember yours too."
"……Come on."
Ropo bared his fangs. Ban's momentum shed all viciousness and grew calm instead. He'd thought just tying their feet would suffice, but such half-hearted resolve would only add to his wounds.
There were roughly thirty vampires. But the problem was that each possessed monstrous strength incomparable to humans…… and in Ropo's case, he was a swordsman no lower than Ban.
The trajectory bent. Ropo's Bamboo Sword seemed aimed at his head, then twisted like a snake toward Ban's feet. It was more elusive than anything Ban had faced before. And at times.
Ban swung his twin swords. But in the next instant, his collar was neatly sliced off. Even blocking with twin swords, he couldn't catch the old man's movements with a single blade. Three streams of sword light targeting all his blind spots. That old man could cut three, four, five times with one swing.
"……An interesting sword."
"The hesitation is gone. What change of heart occurred in that time?"
"Doesn't seem like an enemy to face with hesitation."
In skill and courtesy alike. They were opponents worth clashing at full strength. Ban glanced sideways, scanning the surroundings. The vampires were gathering one by one to encircle him.
'Sangro?'
None. They seemed intent on finishing him off before passing now. Seeing them, Ban's mind calmed instead. The air surrounding him whispered what he couldn't see. Who was swallowing, who was aiming in what stance. How their toes were positioned.
None dared leap into Ban's range rashly. They already understood their lives would 'certainly' end the moment they did.
"……A pity. If only I'd faced you in a more pristine state."
Ropo said this as he raised his Bamboo Sword.
After that, no more words passed. Only the clash of blades, the rending of flesh, and muffled screams breaking the silence accompanied them.
The vampires fell one by one. But the more they did, the more Ban realized he couldn't run. It wasn't just stamina. Before those who threw everything to tear into him, he couldn't bear such a half-hearted attitude of just tying feet and fleeing……
Victory was impossible. Even with Kishin's power letting him rival a 6-Star swordsman momentarily, the numerical disadvantage was insurmountable. He'd never planned to win anyway; stalling then fleeing was the goal……
As his stamina waned, his sword grew heavier, Ropo's Bamboo Sword harder to track, the vampires' breaths more terrifying, Ban barely suppressed the urge to run.
The signal flare rose. But too late. At some point, Ban had left no strength to flee. He couldn't. He didn't want to face them with such flimsy resolve. Even if he fled, considering vampire stamina, he might not outpace them.
He might die. He might really die. And in that moment, Anya's face floated before his eyes. If he'd listened and gone north, become lighthouse keeper there, would it have been more peaceful?
No way.
Ban’s blade trembled. From fear of death, or blood loss? He couldn't tell. He recalled what he'd boasted to Yuri. He didn't want to be a fleeing swordsman. Yes. Think on it now. Was that empty talk, or not?
Ban bit his lip, pondering. If he died, what would he die as? A fool swordsman clueless about his fight's purpose? Or a pure swordsman pursuing sword's pinnacle?
This was the first time Ban faced such terror and anxiety head-on.
Just run, Ban.
Did Yuri say it? Or his inner weakness? Unclear. Ban slowly sheathed Kishin, gripping only Yuri. Kishin's ghostly qi had long burned out. All he could rely on was his own power. That was it.
"Arrrghhhhhhh!"
Ban roared. The weak cry laced with fear and regret vanished beyond the forest, and calm settled on his face. Yes. This was the life he wanted. Burn everything in battle, end as a blaze grander than any wildfire.
No fuel left to burn inside him, but from his empty stamina, Ban drew strange comfort. As if saying everything was meaningless, no need to fear. Ferocity, obsession, childish stubbornness—all gone.
Seven vampires remained.
Which side would fall first?