Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Voice of the Sword (1)
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At Ban's bold question, Juwon instead wore an expression as if he found it commendable.
"That's very much like a Seonwoo. You don't neglect what you can read."
"Could there be anyone who can see a sword's voice yet treats it carelessly?"
"Even the love that seems eternal eventually fades."
Juwon replied with a subtle expression.
"The feelings toward a sword's voice are no different. So you must carry that passion of yours as far as you can. One day, the wick might suddenly burn out."
"I doubt such a day will come... but I'll keep that in mind."
"There are plenty of swords. But for the kind you're after... well, only one comes to mind."
With those words, Juwon headed to a drawer. It held all sorts of items, from weapons of every kind to push rods and fountain pens. He pulled out one sword and said,
"This is my sword. Take it."
"...The Chief Librarian's sword."
"I haven't devoted my life to the sword like they did, but I've peered into plenty of their lives. It's not the original, but as a copy, it should still be plenty useful to you."
"...Thank you. I'll gladly accept it."
Ban took the sword without hesitation. It clearly bore the marks of long disuse. Watching Ban brush the dust off his hands, Juwon gave an awkward smile.
"As I said, swords aren't my interest."
§
[You have gripped the longsword of the 'Swordsman Who Never Sweats'.]
Material: Steel
Quality: Rare
Owner: Seonwoo Juwon (6-Star)
Memory Preservation: Low
Note: The sword of a swordsman who stole others' lives. Gripping this sword might just give you a broader perspective.
'...A 6-Star just from peeking.'
The claim of no training must be a lie. At the very least, the moment he peered into those books' lives, Juwon retraced every experience and realization they had through his own body, one by one.
Of course, it lacked proper real combat experience. Even so, there was much to learn from Juwon's sword. He hadn't read every Guardian's records, but still.
'...If just watching and imitating could achieve this much, what if I got my hands on a Guardian's sword?'
It was a tempting thought. Ban gazed at Juwon's sword stuck in the dirt floor, lost in quiet contemplation. He was struck anew by the Seonwoo Clan's power. No glory remained mere relic under the Seonwoo name. The past took flesh in reality, growing bit by bit each day.
'My successor as Guardian will be even stronger than me.'
The thought brought a twinge of jealousy, yet also a swell of pride. He understood now why the Seonwoo Clan obsessed over leaving records.
'What record will I leave?'
What kind of swordsman would the Voice of the Sword call him?
"What do you want to say?"
Ban rested his chin on his hand, staring at the sword. Quint had asked. What exactly was the sword's voice saying? But Ban still couldn't grasp that much. What did the sword want to say? What was it saying?
'...To me, it just seems like it wants me to swing it a bit cleaner, a bit more elegantly... That's all I see.'
"What are you doing, Uncle?"
Yujin's voice came then. Without turning, Ban replied in a slightly hoarse tone.
"Wondering what this thing's voice is trying to say."
"Voice? Oh, you mean communion?"
".......?"
Ban slowly turned his head. Yujin smiled at him as if wondering what the problem was. In a slightly flustered voice, Ban said,
"Is that communion just about feeling the sword better? Or... does it mean something else?"
"Huh? ...Ah, you grew up outside the clan, so of course you wouldn't know..."
"Know what?"
"Well, communion is, um... how do I explain? Take a hammer, for example. Sometimes when I swing it, it feels like the hammer's swinging me instead. Sounds weird just hearing it, but when that happens... it's like the hammer's voice comes through deeper. It's complicated..."
"...So then you hear the hammer's true intent?"
"Yeah. But it's not easy. You have to commune with that hammer for a long time, and... um. I need to organize my thoughts before explaining more. Is that okay?"
"Sure. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere right now."
Yujin looked at Ban with a strange expression. He said he wasn't going anywhere, but watching him made her feel like he could vanish like smoke at any moment.
"Do people like you?"
"It's too soon to talk about like or dislike. I've only been here a short while."
"Then stay longer. They'll like you for sure. I can't say they're perfect, but they're people who pour their whole lives into one thing. And people like that... aren't often bad. You know that too, right, Uncle?"
"They might not be bad. But is that reason enough for me to stay long?"
"...How can we make a reason for you to stay longer?"
"I'd rather you didn't. I have many places to go."
The conversation wilted like a flower. Their words carried a clear temperature difference. Yujin, with her clear goal, and Ban, wanting to escape his—perhaps they could never truly talk from the start.
"I understand the Seonwoo position."
Ban began as if speaking to a stranger.
"You want to reclaim the North. Give the Kingdom a piece of your mind. Fair enough. But that doesn't mean I'll join your revolution."
"We're not after some grand revolution. We just want our homeland back."
"Why did you lose your homeland?"
Yujin fell silent at the question. Ban continued quietly.
"You called for the Northern Expedition, and when it was rejected, you called for revolution. Yet you never gave the 'sword' the respect it deserved."
"...That's on us. No excuses. That arrogance cost us our home, our library, our families."
"Yujin. One thing I'm curious about. You've never set foot in the North your whole life... Why cling so hard to a place you've never seen?"
"Isn't it because I've never seen it that I can dream of it?"
Yujin replied softly.
"If you want to call my dream foolish, fine. But I'll never give up on the North. I'll read every ancestor's life who wielded a hammer before me in the Kalsmori Library. I'll stake my plaque there."
"...Sorry. I didn't mean to call it foolish."
Ban's voice sounded somehow forlorn.
"It's just... I don't think I could ever yearn that fiercely to return to that library like you do."
Watching him, Yujin realized that if he couldn't understand her, perhaps she couldn't understand him either. Born of the same blood, yet lived different lives—they could be closer than anyone, yet feel farther too.
"Sorry, Uncle."
Ban smiled wordlessly.
Afterward, Yujin spent a long while by his side with idle chatter, perhaps to lift his spirits by force. Finding her endearing, Ban ended up chuckling at each of her unfunny jokes.
—Cute kid.
Yuri said. Ban nodded.
"Never thought I'd have a niece at my age. Wait, does 'uncle' count for calling her one?"
—Probably? Anyway, that girl looks at you not just as an uncle, but like an idol.
"...Yeah, I sensed that vibe."
Ban gripped the broad dao, Yuri, in his hand. Yuri's memories flowed in. Yuri's feelings flowed in. Yuri's life flowed in...
"Am I still not hearing your voice properly, Senior?"
—You've already surpassed me.
Yuri's voice sounded a bit bitter.
"Deflection is still yours. I'm just imitating you."
—Imitation has no reason not to surpass the original.
"Even so, I'm still learning from you."
Ban replied stubbornly. 'Communion.' The first sword that came to mind was Yuri's broad dao. The one he'd spent the most time with, taught him the most. His senior. If he had to face the true 'Voice of the Sword' for the first time, he wanted it to be hers.
"What do you want to say, Senior?"
He repeated the question he'd asked countless times. Yuri didn't answer. She knew no answer was needed. Ban didn't swing her. Even without, he knew intimately what trajectories her blade could trace with his body and mind—what it could and couldn't do.
'Is there deeper communion than this?'
Perhaps he'd been doing it all along, just called differently. But something was missing. As the previous Guardian's dagger said, he wasn't 'ripe' yet.
What was a ripened swordsman? A fully matured one?
If an apple's skin turned red at the end of patience's time, what of a swordsman's skin?
'Teach me, Senior.'
The junior, long since surpassed, cried out to his senior's shadow. Knowing only the stump remained, he still shouted to it that it had more to give.
Yuri gazed quietly at such a Ban.
'The Seonwoo Clan... has a strange blessing.'
Crossing time and death, two who shouldn't meet conversed. Yuri felt gratitude and pity watching Ban. She envied him. His healthy body with limbs, his blessing with the sword, and...
'...Even knowing there's nothing more I can give you.'
Yuri was not Yuri. She'd known that long ago. The real Yuri had died ages ago; she was at best... an illusion of her footsteps, a mere phantom, a goblin.
The Seonwoo Clan had to watch their Guardians stand motionless, gripping a broad dao. They'd tilt their heads at the odd sight, then quietly clasp hands in prayer to the gods.
The deeper his thoughts, the more Ban focused on the sword, on Yuri. The noisy clamor of his mind quieted the instant he gripped the sword.
By day, Yuri; by night, the previous Guardian's dagger. Days passed without letting go of a sword even for a moment.
If anything had changed in those days,
—You're still...
"Not ripe? I know."
Ban pointed his sword at the shadow.
"But are you?"
Ban charged. The result was utter defeat. He awoke gasping, split in two in an instant without knowing how. How many such nightmares?
—...You're persistent.
The shadow now seemed weary of Ban. Ban smiled silently.
"Compared to being tormented by stray thoughts, getting bisected by you is more relaxing."
—You're still not ripe.
The shadow said quietly. Ban shrugged.
"I know. How many times are you gonna repeat that?"
—No respect for your senior.
The shadow's presence intensified. Ban struggled to hold his mind against the pressure that felt like it could make him bite his tongue. Forcing a smile, Ban said,
"My senior loves his junior too little, so the respect doesn't come easy."
—But I like it.
The shadow laughed.
—I'll ripen you.