Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Seonwoo's Story (1)
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After that day, Ban repeatedly gripped the dagger and tried to sleep. But all he could learn from that slumber was that the person he wished to meet had ascended to a realm so distant he couldn't even gauge its depths.
"It's just a matter of swinging it."
Yet he couldn't help thinking that so much changed at the end of that swing. Simply by taking up a sword, some seized the world... while others claimed the right to command life and death.
"Hey, how long you gonna stand there spacing out? Get in here and eat."
Jensen spoke in his usual gruff tone. Ban glanced at him, then slowly stepped into the kitchen. The first thing he saw was Quint setting the tableware.
"...So you've switched careers to maid now? Smart move. Must be real peaceful."
"Don't tease. You think I can eat free meals without lifting a finger?"
"Didn't know you had this much gall."
Ban chuckled and took his seat. Jensen shot him a quick look, then quietly began spooning up the meat stew. It was made from beef rump, tomatoes, and basil, simmered since morning. Aside from a touch too much pepper, it was flawless.
But Ban just poked at his food, unable to focus. Jensen frowned as he watched him zone out mid-bite.
"Not hungry?"
"Oh, no. Just got a lot on my mind."
"No stray thoughts at the table. Eat."
"...Yes, sir."
Compared to when he'd left to hunt vampires, Ban's demeanor had changed beyond recognition. Jensen knew boys were like pupae—capable of sprouting wings and shedding their shells in an instant—but he wasn't entirely pleased with Ban's transformation.
"No need to grow up so fast."
"Huh?"
"Growing doesn't always bring good things. Worrying doesn't always give answers. Sometimes just relax. Be grateful for what you have, pray to the gods. Ask them to let tomorrow pass as peacefully as today."
"...Since when are you so devout?"
Ban grumbled.
"I've lived without much worry, so now I'm trying. To regret a little less later."
"I don't know what you'd regret."
Jensen said.
"No life is free of regrets. No matter how straight you try to live, they'll pile up. So instead of getting bound by them, think about what to do next."
"Next?"
"Yeah."
Jensen pointed his spoon at Ban.
"You're a full-fledged swordsman now, beyond anyone's reproach. Probably no one in Shionel Village could beat you. So, what are you going to do with that sword?"
"...I was trying to learn not to draw it."
"That's still about training. Beyond training, what do you want?"
Jensen's voice echoed softly.
"What do you take up the sword for?"
§
"I request a spar, Ban."
It was a moonless night. Quint gripped a new two-handed greatsword from the forge, gazing at Ban. Compared to his previous blade, it was lighter and less sturdy... but more than sufficient for sparring.
Ban glanced at Quint. He spoke with weary eyes.
"Sorry, Quint. I'm practicing not drawing my sword."
"...Sorry, Ban, but I intend to disrupt that practice."
"You won't manage it."
"Here I come!"
Before Ban could reply, Quint swung the two-handed sword. The sharp blade fell straight for Ban's nape. Ban twisted his torso to dodge as he closed in on Quint.
"I said I won't draw."
"Hmph!"
Before Ban could continue, Quint swung again. Lighter weight meant greater speed. Yet it meant nothing against Ban. Having glimpsed Ropo's world, no sword speed posed a threat to him.
Quint swung dozens of times. Not one connected. He brushed back his sweat-matted hair and looked at Ban. His shoulders sagged with fatigue, but his lips curved in delight.
"Ban, what do you wield your sword for?"
"...For the sword."
"I wielded mine for my mother."
Quint murmured.
"My father was a bandit. Not just plundering outside—he plundered at home too. Bruises never left Mother's face..."
Quint fell silent, unable to continue. Lifelong suppressed rage filled his eyes.
"One day, Father brought meat. Salted pork. The sort who'd normally toss me his leftovers fed it to me and Mother. That night... another man climbed into Mother's bed, not Father."
"Quint."
"I had to take up the sword."
Quint closed his eyes. The memory of striking his sleeping father's neck with his blade never faded, no matter the time. The neck didn't sever in one blow. The startled father grabbed at it in panic, only severing his own fingers.
Even after his breath stopped, Quint's sword didn't.
"...Mother hanged herself a week later."
Quint's face was too painful to behold as he spoke. The sword meant to save her had killed her instead. Quint looked at Ban.
"Why did she take her life? Seeing her son kill her husband—did the world become that hateful? ...Or despite his cruelty, did she still love him as her husband?"
"No one will blame you, Quint."
That was all Ban could say. Quint continued.
"Every night in my dreams, Father appears. And I'm still that powerless kid before him. I hate it, so I take bigger swords, cut down stronger swordsmen... but I still feel trapped in that time."
"I thought getting stronger would free me. Strong enough his shadow wouldn't scare me, I'd sleep easier. But seeing you, Ban, I realize strength alone might not be the answer."
"...Should I say glad I could help?"
"But you can find the answer."
Quint's eyes gleamed calmly.
"Because you hear the sword's voice."
Quint said.
"You who wield the sword for the sword itself—you can hear what it truly wants to say. How we can use it most wisely."
"...You really think the sword knows that answer?"
"Everything began with the sword. Conflicts, kingdoms, revolutions. The end must lie within too."
Quint said.
"The heavens sent down the Seonwoo Clan... you, for that answer. So I'll make aiding you my mission. I'll help you find it."
"Don't go placing expectations like that."
Ban grinned.
"But with you expecting it, hard to say no."
In the end, a sword filled Ban's hand. Not the bamboo sword. Holding Yuri, he slowly assumed his stance. How could he keep dodging someone who looked at him so squarely? Quint smiled back.
"I know your sword escapes time's flow. But I've watched you long enough. Now... I can at least clumsily chase that blade."
"You're mistaken about one thing."
Ban smiled as he took his stance.
"What you've seen is just a fraction of my swords."
§
That day, Quint was overwhelmingly crushed by Ban—utterly defeated, no other word for it. In speed and technique, he couldn't even catch Ban's heel. Yet he laughed. Helping Ban was reason enough for joy.
Ban often mulled over his talks with Quint. Quint's words held genius in ways unlike Ban's. The idea that swords held words for people.
'Anything you want to say? As a sword.'
—...Well, I'm a goblin, so calling me a sword feels off.
Yuri replied awkwardly. Of course—her self was formed as a person, not a sword.
—But if I had words for you... maybe just to relax a bit.
'Do other swords say the same?'
—Maybe. Perhaps they want us to discard them. Or the opposite... who knows. A sword asking for blood on itself? Kinda weird.
'Sounds like Kishin.'
Ban stroked Kishin. It had never spoken once. He wanted to hear its story, but the aftermath of being forcibly swallowed by the sword's voice must have been severe.
'What does it mean I'm not ripe yet, Guardian?'
Ban pondered the Guardian's dagger in his bosom. His immediate goal was earning the Guardian's approval, but he had no clue how.
'...Time to leave soon.'
Shionel Village once felt vast, but now it seemed too small to contain him. Ban was born a wanderer. Unbound, free... drifting like the wind, only then did life feel real.
And so, that impending meeting left him all the more uneasy.
It was an ordinary day. The weather was clear, Shionel Village basking in its faded peace as always.
He was entering the house when he saw it. Five or so black-haired guests in gray coats clustered before Jensen. Assuming it was a busy sales day, he meant to pass, but couldn't. Jensen's face was uncharacteristically angry, and their eyes—turned to Ban—sparkled with inexplicable ecstasy.
"...Is that him?"
"Exactly, showing up without a word...!"
"So many swords... and this aura. Ah, truly like the Guardian from the tales..."
The black-haired woman knelt first, bowing deeply. The others followed, one by one, slowly prostrating. Ban watched in undisguised confusion. They bowed their heads reverently.
"It is our honor to meet the Seonwoo Guardian, inheritor of the Voice of the Sword."
"Who are you?"
"I am Seonwoo Yujin. I've dreamed since childhood of this day to see my uncle."
"Uncle? What...?"
"Ah, you must not have heard. We asked Elder Jensen to pass on the message..."
Yujin shot a slightly peeved glance at Jensen, but he ignored her. Clearing her throat, she said.
"Allow a formal introduction, Uncle. I am Seonwoo Yujin, second daughter of Yul and Ari."
She spoke in an exaggeratedly mature tone.
"I've come to take you with us."