Chapter 79
Chapter 79
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: What Does the Sword Cut? (10)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"You've grown."
Even though Ban entered the barrier without any fuss, Erok wasn't particularly surprised. He glanced at the bamboo sword hanging from Ban's waist and gave a wry smile.
"Did you at least encounter some brief fortune in that short time?"
"Thanks to Ropo's teachings."
"Ropo... It's been a long time since I last heard that name. How did his end come?"
"He met his end long ago. What I saw was, at best... just his shadow."
Yeah. Ropo had died long ago. Not in a negative sense. He had prepared for death well in advance and had already accepted it before it even arrived. So when the appointed death finally came, there was no need to panic... no reason to fear.
"How was he?"
Ban asked in return. Erok smiled forlornly.
"She was the same. It had all ended long ago for her."
They were alive yet unable to truly live. And perhaps... Erok was in no different a state.
Eternity was like a fragrant poison herb. People were drawn to the allure of the word like swarms of ants, but in the end, they only realized there was no such thing as sweetness without a price.
"I was going to reproach you..."
For dragging them into such a fate. For having no other choice. Perhaps you were just a weak, cowardly fool.
"I doubt those words would hurt you now."
"You've grown fond of them, haven't you? Poor thing."
"Not as much as you have, Erok."
Ban looked at Erok with an inscrutable expression. His face was the same as when they first met, but Ban realized he had now completely lost the warmth he once held onto.
"...Why decide to bring it to a close now?"
'I'd always thought about it. I just kept putting it off, over and over.'
"I know I'm not the first."
He had heard such stories from Ropo. Over the years, many had tried to kidnap Emily at Erok's behest. But all their attempts had failed. Due to lack of skill, because the vampires hadn't given up yet, bad luck, or failing to pass through Ustain's Forest...
But in the end, even after those meaningless attempts, an end had come into view,
and Ban was here now.
"...You hoped they'd fail."
"And hoped they'd succeed."
"I suppose so."
"You've grown."
In the mere two months, Ban had become a completely different person. Perhaps he had only needed the opportunity to become an adult. An opportunity to face the doubts he had accumulated inside without fleeing.
'Had time been as precious to me as it is to you, I might look a little different now.'
But eternity had been promised to Erok, so time could not make him grow. Time was worthless to him. It was merely a symbol of powerlessness—something he wished would pass quickly, yet at the same time, never pass.
Quint watched the exchange between Ban and Erok with a dazed expression. He tried to piece together the context to understand, but he couldn't even grasp the gist.
"At first, I just felt resentment. For burdening me with such a load of all people... for dragging me into this horrific tale, and for them having to meet such fleeting ends..."
Erok said nothing. He was a sinner, and he knew the virtue of a sinner was silence.
Ban drew his bamboo sword. Erok quietly faced him. Only Quint looked flustered, wondering whether to stop Ban or not.
"It's a message from Ropo."
Ban pulled an apple from his bosom and tossed it into the air. And in the next instant, Ban's hand moved. Faster than a beam of light. Slower than a tortoise. By the time it seemed the sword might be drawn, the apple was already sliced into hundreds of pieces and falling to the ground.
Erok stared at it in a daze. He wasn't a swordsman, but he had lived long enough to read the life contained in a sword. At the tip of Ban's blade, he couldn't help but read the anguish and pain etched there.
It wasn't just Ropo's words. The grievances of all those who had become vampires through his Word Command, the bitterness of the reality they faced—it was all captured at the end of Ban's blade, splitting into dozens of paths before converging.
Dozens, hundreds of lives and deaths were expressed and then faded at that sword tip. Erok stared in a daze. Every trajectory of Ban's sword was an accusation and a scream against him. And all Erok could do was tremble in agony, facing those screams.
Ban sheathed his sword. He looked at Erok with calm, settled eyes.
"After facing death—no, after receiving mercy to prolong my life—I started thinking. Were the lives I took really ones that deserved to vanish like that?"
"...I see."
"It was a painful realization. You'll probably have to carry those lives on your back for eternity... forever. After thinking that, I have nothing more to say to you."
Even if someone handed Ban an immortality elixir for free, he might just throw it away. Erok was living proof of how horrific and agonizing eternity truly was.
Ban looked around.
"I don't see Munet."
"That child has left. It's for the best for her too. The side of an old man who never ages isn't a place for such a young, pretty girl."
"...Munet has?"
He hadn't imagined Munet would leave Erok's side. Ban quietly regarded him.
"Mission accomplished. Please issue the Word Command for the village. Especially to ensure my master remains safe..."
"No problem. ...But that's not the only reason you came."
"The Guardian's Sword."
Ban’s eyes wavered.
"Where is it?"
"I don't know where it is. But I know someone who does."
"...Someone from the Seonwoo Clan?"
"Seonwoo Clan?!"
At Ban's question, Quint beside him yelped in shock. As Ban and Erok's gazes turned to him, he flinched and shut his mouth, but he couldn't help feeling this conversation was on a scale far beyond what he'd imagined.
'What does the Seonwoo Clan have to do with this? No, wait. If it's the Guardian, then the Seonwoo Clan...'
Quint's gaze shifted to Ban's waist. Seeing the mismatched swords thrust into his belt, Quint recalled a story he had forgotten.
Among the Seonwoo Clan, who could read all things, there were those who could read swords...
And he was said to always claim to be the world's greatest swordsman.
'No way, Ban...?'
His heart pounded. Though the Seonwoo Clan had been branded rebels and wiped out, to Quint, a knight—or more precisely, a warrior—that wasn't such a big issue.
What mattered most was that the man before him might one day become the unparalleled strongest on this land.
'Seonwoo Ban... It has such a natural ring to it.'
"The Guardian's Sword. Then, from whom is it proper to seek that sword?"
"...The Guardian."
"Exactly."
Erok handed Ban a dagger the size of a palm.
"His location is contained within this dagger. Anyone else might not, but you, the 'Guardian,' can read it. Go find him."
Erok said.
"For all the swords in this world are with him."
§
"B-Ban. I have a question."
"Ask away."
"Are you really the Guardian of the Seonwoo Clan...?"
Instead of answering, Ban looked at Quint. They were about halfway down Erok's rocky mountain. Ban seemed lost in his own thoughts, but Quint couldn't hold back any longer.
'Reading swords? Man, that'd make life easy.'
'But it makes sense why the world's greatest sword heroes always came from the Seonwoo Clan. How could they fall behind with such an ability?'
'...The love of myriad swords, huh. Enviable.'
Few knew of the Guardian. And some dismissed it as mere rumor. If the Seonwoo Guardian was truly the world's top swordsman, how could the clan have vanished so easily? That was their reasoning.
Quint hadn't fully believed in the Guardian either. He thought it was baseless romantic nonsense from swordsmen. But now, the proof of that nonsense was walking right in front of him.
"Do you really hear the voice of the sword?"
"It's not hearing so much as seeing."
"...Y-You're really the Guardian!"
Quint flushed red, like he'd met a lover from his dreams. He snorted heavily as he stared at Ban.
"What do they say?"
"I said I see the voice of the sword. What do you think their voices are trying to say? Oh, can you tell me what my sword is saying?"
At Quint's question, Ban stared at him with a dumbstruck expression. Quint tilted his head in confusion.
"Did I say something weird?"
"...No, no. You just caught me off guard a bit."
'Voice of the sword.'
Even hearing that blunt explanation, Ban had never thought of swords as 'trying to say' something.
Of course, swords like Yuri or Kishin with goblins dwelling in them did speak, but it felt more like the voices of those 'individuals' rather than the sword's voice.
What would swords say? What did they want to say? When blood touched their bodies, would they shiver in ecstasy, or crumble in sorrow?
It was beyond Ban's knowledge. He glared at Quint with a sullen expression. He felt like he'd lost somehow.
"...I'll tell you later."
"Come on, just tell me now! It's something I've wondered about my whole life. What does my sword say... what does it want to tell me? Don't you get how badly I want to know?"
He understood. And that's why it frustrated him more. He, who could see the voice of the sword, had never truly thought to converse with them.
Ban gripped the dagger from Erok.
[You have gripped the dagger of the 'Swordsman Who Converses with Swords.' ]
Material: Iron
Quality: ?
Owner: ? (?)
Memory Preservation Rate: ?
Note: A dagger forged solely to hold the 'voice.' In your dreams, you might hear his voice.
'...The strangest description I've seen yet.'
The question marks were odd, and even swinging it felt blocked, like he couldn't read the memories. As expected of the Guardian's dagger. It was different in every way.
All he could do was sleep. Peeking into memories in a dream might reveal some clue. So he thought.
It was a miscalculation.
That night, Ban, who had fallen asleep with the dagger deep in his bosom, encountered a being of pure shadow. A being whose face, build, and even the sword in its hand couldn't be properly seen.
Every cell in his body tingled unpleasantly, making him want to scream... but he couldn't move a muscle. Now he finally understood what it felt like to be utterly prey.
'Wh-What... is this thing?'
It didn't even feel human. The being turned to Ban. It grinned darkly.
You haven't ripened yet. Child.
When he came to, Ban was sprawled on the bed, drenched in sweat. He slowly sat up, his face pale as he drew the dagger from his bosom.
"...Not ripened?"
It seemed his predecessor wasn't the affable type.