Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 87
Chapter Title: Voice of the Sword (5)
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The shadow grew quieter. Though his face remained unseen, it was clear his gaze was captivated by the apple tree grove Ban had demonstrated.
— A strange realm, indeed.
The shadow finally spoke. It was immature. Not ready yet. That had been the extent of his words until now. But it made sense. The blade of Ropo, deeply embedded within Ban, was a power no swordsman could ignore.
"It's Ropo's sword."
— Ropo... Sword Ghost Ropo, you mean. I've heard the rumors. I thought he'd vanished from the world.
"It transcended time to gift this blade to me."
— Using the power of an ancient wraith to protect yourself.
"There's no shame in wielding a wraith's power against wraiths."
— You talk a good game.
The shadow turned his head. His pitch-black maw cracked open.
— Come to Kalsmori Library.
"Pardon?"
— I'm just a shadow at best. If you want a proper conversation, seek me out at Kalsmori Library. If you're lucky, you might even convince me. It's up to you.
The shadow growled like a beast.
— For all the swords in this world.
§
'......How did it come to this.'
Ban let out a hollow chuckle the moment he woke. He'd sworn not to be swayed by the Seonwoo Clan's old grudges, yet every twist of fate was dragging him toward them.
Kalsmori Library. Could he make it there on his own? Who knew. Ban had only a superficial knowledge of the North.
He glanced at the Guardian's dagger before slipping it into his bosom. A destination had appeared, but he had no intention of setting out immediately. He wasn't even sure he could head north right away, and above all, there were still many threads to unravel with the Seonwoo Clan. He hadn't even properly learned blacksmithing from Yujin yet.
From that day on, Ban continued wielding the hammer as usual, seeking out Yujin. The blazing forge fire occasionally scorched his hands, but it didn't hurt when he considered it a wound every smith must endure. After all, every sword was born from such searing agony.
'Is the Guardian really like that shadow?'
Something was off about him. He resembled Cho Muryeong more than Ropo. An absolute confidence in his own strength, laced with the arrogance that followed.
Not every enlightened master set aside everything. If anything, Ropo—having attained such insight yet grown so strong—was the anomaly.
Strength was selfish, after all. Without baring one's teeth at the world and relentlessly pursuing one's own path... humans were destined to weaken.
'Have I grown stronger?'
Clang! The hammer struck the blade. The glowing red metal took on the sword's shape with each spray of sparks. It went without saying, but hammering couldn't always be forceful. Sometimes it had to be gentle, sometimes straight down only to glance off at an angle.
The sword Ban forged was naturally clumsy. Any craft required years to master even the basics.
Yet Ban didn't see this time as wasted. There was a vast gap between hammering and swordplay, but each strike let him feel the blade. Even in forging, with the right mindset, he could grasp the essence of the sword.
Right now, Ban was probably swinging at a slant... cautiously. His strikes might grow fierce again someday, but not now.
Two pairs of eyes watched him. One pair spoke.
"How long does the Guardian plan to just hammer away? I've never seen him hold a sword."
"He probably doesn't need to."
Yujin replied. A man with a spear slung over his shoulder—nearly as tall as he was—twisted his lips.
"Does he really need to dress it up like that? Anyone can see he's wandering aimlessly. It's ridiculous. The great Seonwoo Clan pinning all their hopes on someone who won't even swing a sword."
"Hwan."
Yujin narrowed her eyes and turned to him.
"Don't repeat the mistakes of our elders. The Guardian deserves the Seonwoo Clan's respect in any situation."
"I have no intention of repeating mistakes. And I do respect the Guardian... somewhat."
Hwan wrinkled his nose as he eyed Ban.
"But is that man really the Guardian we've been waiting for? Why?"
Just because he heard the Voice of the Sword?
Hwan stared at Ban, unconvinced. From the day Ban arrived, he'd worn that expression. This man, utterly devoid of aggression, didn't seem like the glorious savior who'd reclaim the North for them.
Look at him now. He had to sense the intensity, yet he pretended not to notice and just swung his hammer. Was the clan's future safe in hands so lacking in presence?
That day too, Hwan glared at Ban for a long while before leaving. Only after Ban finished forging a crude sword did Yujin squat beside him and inspect the blade.
"It's simple."
"......Yeah?"
"But it's a good sword."
It was a shortsword. Yujin gripped it, tilting the blade. Thanks to the prolonged sharpening, it looked keen enough to slice paper on contact.
"......Why'd you let that Hwan guy slide?"
"Who?"
"That guy who comes every day, glares at you, and leaves."
"Oh, him......"
Ban shrugged.
"What am I supposed to do, confront him?"
"Why not give him a lesson? If you, Uncle, put him in his place, even the clan elders wouldn't complain."
"I know the Seonwoo Clan has been kind to me."
Ban muttered.
"But abusing that kindness is another matter."
Yujin knew her suggestion was childish. She hugged her knees while squatting.
"Honestly, at first I agreed with Hwan a little."
"About what?"
"You're the Guardian, but... you seem too mild, Uncle. I wondered if you could bare your fangs when needed."
Ban wouldn't have tolerated such words in the past. He was a wildcat with claws out even when walking. Before he could respond, Yujin continued.
"But seeing you always sheathe your claws makes me trust you more now. If you ever unsheathe them... I believe it won't end with just scratched earth."
"......."
"I have a confession."
Yujin looked down at the ground.
"The sword design was finished long ago."
"I see."
"......If I make it for you, will you leave again, Uncle?"
Ban didn't answer. His eventual departure was a given. She'd hoped to forge a reason for him to stay longer.
"When will the Seonwoo Clan stop wandering?"
Most had fled to corners of the kingdom. Some became merchants, others local artisans. With information and funds gathered from afar, they were now amassing power to reclaim the North.
Ban couldn't answer Yujin's question. He wanted to, but he didn't know.
It had been ages since a night felt so restless. His communion with Ropo was over, and the shadow had revealed his next destination. Instead of bed, Ban wandered the back mountain, hoping to run into Jeonghyeok and share words under the moon.
But it wasn't Jeonghyeok who found him.
"Can't sleep, Guardian?"
"You're......"
"Hwan."
Hwan readjusted his spear.
"I hear the voice of the spear."
"I see."
"I have a question."
Hwan leveled his spear. The pressure was immense—not like a single spear, but a massive pillar bearing down. Ban didn't draw his sword. Seeing his empty hand, Hwan asked.
"Do you hate swords?"
"Why would you think that?"
"I've never seen you wield one. A Guardian should live days beginning and ending with the blade. Why hold a hammer instead? It begs the question."
His words were polite, but his aura was hostile. Like old Ban. Ban looked at Hwan with faint pity. Hwan scowled.
"Why look at me like that?"
"Just... reminded me of the past. Right. You asked why I don't swing it."
Ban gripped Yuri.
— Just like you back then, Ban.
With Yuri's voice and a smile, Ban said,
"I've never not swung it. Not since the day I arrived here. Not for a single moment."
"......Pardon?"
"See?"
The voice came abruptly from behind. Ban's form blurred like mist, and suddenly Hwan faced him with a blade at his nape.
"Like this, even now."
Hwan paled and stumbled back. He'd thought he had the range advantage. But closing the gap so easily...
"......As expected, one who hears the Voice of the Sword is different."
"Did you come to test my skill?"
Ban didn't pursue. Confidence overflowed—he could recreate that strike anytime.
"Or to test yours?"
"Both."
"Couldn't tell from that one exchange?"
"I was careless."
Hwan bit his lip, glaring. He assumed his stance. Thousands of spears had passed through him. For their memories' sake, he couldn't crumble so easily.
"Don't underestimate me."
'If anything, you're underestimating me.'
Ban swallowed the words rising in his throat. He felt proud for holding back. Time to graduate from childish provocations.
'But I'm curious.'
He'd trained without drawing, but against this reckless brute, could he manage barehanded?
Ban sheathed Yuri, already drawn. Hwan's brow twitched, but he didn't demand he draw again.
'This time, I'll exploit your carelessness.'
He envisioned countless spear forms. All to pierce one man. To stab his unguarded heart.
With a sword, maybe. But not against an unarmed foe. Or so Hwan believed. His deliberation was an eternity in an instant. Resolved, he moved not as a man, but as a spear.
A thrust faster than light. One that could pulverize rock to sand. Honed over a lifetime—no, beyond. It shot forth...
Ban raised his hand.
"......!"
"I don't hate sparring, but my temper's mellowed lately."
Ban's hand caught Hwan's spear. Lightly, like grabbing a child's chopstick thrust. Ban smiled.
"You seem to have time to spare. Why not keep me company?"