Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: What Does This Sword Cut? (9)
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The parting with Armen was brief. He left without a word, and Armen didn't bother to see him off. There wasn't time for that, and even if there had been, their farewell didn't call for any greetings.
'Did I really need to draw the sword?'
Walking along, Ban reflected on that moment anew. The apple falling toward Armen's head. Was it necessary to demonstrate such a feat just to prove he was seriously walking the path of the sword?
Ban knew he'd drawn the sword back then out of his own childish pride. And because of that, recalling the moment only made his face burn hotter.
"Hey, wait up!"
"......"
A gruff voice shattered Ban's reverie. He glanced back. Quint was hurrying after him. Ban asked in a slightly annoyed tone.
"I thought you had business in the forest."
"I did. But now I have business with you."
"......With me?"
"I want to understand your sword."
"I'm not planning to take on any disciples."
"I don't need you to teach me. Just let me tag along. As you can see, I've lost my sword, so......"
Quint held up his greatsword, now missing its blade.
"Even if you make me your servant, I'll do it. I can cook, stand watch at night—having a servant like that wouldn't be so bad for you."
"You're a knight. For a knight to serve as a servant...... I can't wrap my head around it."
"It was a sword worth that much."
Quint's eyes blazed with passion. Ban didn't dislike that fervor. Quint might think he was admiring Ban's sword, but in truth, his praise was directed at Ropo. As Ropo's follower, Ban couldn't ignore that reverence.
"......You're right. It is that kind of sword."
To Quint's ears, it might have sounded like boasting. But it didn't matter. Ban turned away again and said.
"I'm headed to Shionel Village. What about you?"
"......Wherever your footsteps take you."
"Fine. Follow me. But steel yourself."
Ban took a step forward.
"I plan to walk pretty far."
§
"......Not a single day where you draw your sword."
Quint looked a bit deflated. It was understandable. It had been several days since he'd joined Ban on the journey, and Ban hadn't drawn his sword once. Facing Quint's sullen expression, Ban said.
"Training isn't only about drawing your sword."
"......If anyone else said that, I'd tell them to shut up and kick their ass, but since it's you...... Sigh. How can you train without even drawing your sword?"
"I get why you think that. But let me ask you one thing. Why does training require drawing your sword?"
"Urgh, well...... You have to swing it to know what it's about, right?"
"I've swung it thousands—no, tens of thousands of times already."
Leaning against a tree, Ban said.
"After that much, haven't I done enough of the training that comes from swinging?"
"......So now it's time for training without swinging?"
"Who knows. It's not exactly 'time' for that. Just that it could be."
With that, Ban blankly watched the marching line of ants on the ground. It was a sight he'd seen many times before, so instead of shaking his head at Ban, Quint joined him in observing the ants.
It seemed utterly pointless, the kind of landscape that made you wonder why bother watching. But there had to be a reason Ban kept staring. Quint endured the boredom and continued watching the ants.
It was strange. Hundreds of identical ants marched in formation. They were clearly moving, yet the scene felt somehow stagnant.
Watching too long made it frustrating. Quint huffed a breath at them. A few ants were blown away by his exhale, scattering. But the others, as if oblivious to what happened, hurried to fill the gap Quint had created.
And in the end, the same scene returned.
"......Do you feel something?"
"No. What is there to feel from this?"
"I'm the same as you—no great insights. I just try to feel it."
Ban glanced at Quint and asked.
"Hey. Do you think you could cut this ant procession?"
"......Sorry, but thanks to you, I lost my greatsword."
"True enough."
Ban chuckled. Quint replied in a peculiar tone.
'But even if I had it, hmm, yeah, I don't think I could. Whether my breath or my greatsword, it wouldn't make much difference. I might disrupt their path a bit, but unless I kill the whole swarm...... I couldn't cut the march itself.'
"What would it take to cut it?"
"......How do you cut something impossible from the start?"
"Is that so."
Ban nodded in acceptance. That straightforward affirmation left Quint feeling oddly uneasy, and he asked.
"......Weren't you about to say you could cut it?"
"No. I can't cut it. I want to, but I can't. That's my reality."
"Sometimes you seem less like a knight and more like a monk."
"Hah, I never imagined hearing that."
Ban had always prided himself on being the polar opposite of anything 'enlightened.' For him to hear this now. Was Ropo's shadow upon him that vivid?
'Ropo.'
It had been a short encounter. But it left a deeper impression than anyone else he'd met. Perhaps because Ropo was a swordsman who defied time. Time itself couldn't refuse to revere him.
And suddenly, Ban realized that the way Quint looked at him resembled how he looked at Ropo. Ban asked, gazing at Quint.
"......Why are you following me?"
"You're strong."
"There are strong people everywhere. You didn't follow all of them."
"True. But...... from the moment I first saw—no, felt—your sword, I knew. If I didn't follow you, I'd regret it for life."
Quint spoke firmly.
"Your swordsmanship is beyond anything I could have imagined in my lifetime. If I understand that sword, I feel like I can take one more step forward."
Quint did resemble Ban in some ways. The differences were that Ban had met Ropo, gained the power to read his sword, and possessed his sword. So, Ban couldn't help but extend some kindness to this pitiful comrade.
Ban placed his hand on Ropo's Bamboo Sword. Meeting Quint's shining eyes, Ban quietly spoke.
"I know how to wield this sword, but I don't truly understand it."
"......How can you wield a sword you don't understand?"
"I'm confident in imitating it."
And there's still Ropo's qi lingering in the bamboo sword.
Ban’s presence shifted. Quint's eyes widened. The sword that he hadn't even noticed being drawn at first. The martial artists at the Forest Wind Inn had called Ban's sword a "swift blade invisible to the eye." But was that really it?
The answer lay now in Ban's hand.
The sword was drawn. Infinitely slowly. Infinitely swiftly. It had been drawn countless times, yet at the same time, never drawn even once.
'Defying the flow of time.'
That had been Quint's old hypothesis. But now, witnessing Ban's sword right before his eyes, Quint realized his guess was completely off.
'Ah.'
It's not a sword that defies time's flow.
It doesn't reverse time, nor exist in multiplicity at once, nor pull a sword from the future. None of that.
Time simply couldn't contain that sword.
Over the image of Ban swinging the bamboo sword overlapped the ants he'd been watching. The moment he'd forgotten what he was looking at, what mattered, lost in a daze beyond time's flow......
It resembled Ban swinging his sword so closely.
"......What is this?"
Quint's face went slack with awe. What world must one glimpse to wield such a blade? What, exactly.
Unable to bear the impatience, Quint asked.
"What are you trying to cut with a sword like this?"
Ban answered.
"To cut nothing."
As some old swordsman had said.
§
Sword of No-Self.
That was the name Ban gave Ropo's sword. The blade swung by a swordsman who forgot himself could sometimes cut things the world itself forgot...... and make the world forget it had been cut.
"......Is this the place?"
Passing through Shionel Village, Ban and Quint arrived at the rocky mountain where Erock resided. Instead of answering, Ban gazed up at the peak with a complicated expression.
Erock hadn't deceived him. He'd never claimed to be justice itself, nor called the vampires pure evil.
Yet the sense of betrayal came from childhood tales of the 'sage' as a flawless, noble being.
"......I understand you."
But understanding didn't breed affection. Ban slowly advanced. Quint followed with an uneasy look.
"H-Hey. Something's off here...... Like, the world is warping or something?"
"You're seeing it right. This is a domain of twisted minds."
"Domain...... You mean that kind of domain?"
Quint asked in alarm. Instead of replying, Ban faced the barrier Erock had erected to block them. It was a familiar barrier. But one he'd failed to breach before.
The old Ban had tried to break through by piling slash upon slash to draw Erock's attention. If Erock had seriously uttered a Word Command like 'Seal,' he might not have even seen Erock's face before retreating.
'Immature.'
And that probably hadn't changed much now.
Ban gripped the bamboo sword. He felt the life of a swordsman who'd held farming tools for centuries. That weight gave him the strength to press on.
He didn't draw the sword. What was a barrier? Ultimately, Word Commands to push back the entire world to protect Erock from it.
So what Ban needed to cut wasn't the world infused with those Words, but the Words themselves. But could that even be cut? Could a 'sword' bare its edge before 'words'?
'Probably not.'
Then rephrase the question.
Do Word Commands absolutely have to be cut?
Ban walked forward silently. The sticky sensation of the world watching him lingered, but he accepted it quietly and kept going. He retraced paths that felt familiar, and in the repeating maze, he gradually blurred his consciousness—yet made it sharper too.
Where was he walking?
His steps now headed for the summit, but someday they'd lead back down. What reason bound these present steps to the now?
If one slash could cut dozens of apples, why couldn't one step traverse dozens of paths?
Quint, trailing silently behind, sometimes felt like he was going mad. Ban's shadow seemed to split into dozens of branches, each becoming Ban and walking. But in the next moment, Ban was behind him again, and turning back revealed Ban steadily stepping forward, not overtaking but persisting.
In short, Ban had become the bladeless edge of No-Self himself.
And before this visitor beyond understanding or interpretation...... even Erock's barrier raised its hands in surrender.
The boy who had become a man spoke in a voice firm as steel.
"Long time no see. Erock."