Chapter 5
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: The Ten-Character Sword
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“The sword style I use is called the Ten-Character Sword.”
Camilla’s training began on a morning where volcanic ash fluttered down, distorting the sunlight into a crimson hue.
It was always like this on the battlefield, in the south.
The lands lost to the Abyss underwent bizarre topographical mutations; mountains turned into volcanoes, endlessly spewing smoke and ash into the sky. One could never see the sky of the old era unless it had just rained.
“It’s a martial art that integrates offense and defense, using both the sword and the scabbard.”
The sword in her right hand.
The scabbard in her left.
There was an ineffable grace in Camilla’s stance as she crossed the two.
“The Ten-Character Sword? What a lame name.”
Perhaps it originated from the cross shape, like the character for ten, that formed when the sword and scabbard intersected.
“Hey, you little shit. Every successor of Aradamanthel has used this sword style. Show some respect.”
“Hmph.”
“Hmph? Hmmmph? Hmmmmmmph? Did your father teach you to show respect by crossing your arms and grunting ‘Hmph’?”
Looking back, Camilla never invoked his mother when making such filial insults.
“I told you not to hit my head! And what does my dad have to do with this?”
“A brat with an upbringing as messed up as yours needs to be beaten periodically to instill some character. I’m curious what your old man looks like. What’s his face like?”
“He’s handsome! Incredibly so!”
“Looking at your busted-up face, I highly doubt that.”
Whenever the mercenaries watched Camilla instruct Kaisen, they marveled inwardly.
‘This is the first time I’ve seen Lady Camilla talk so much.’
‘And teaching someone, of all things.’
‘She used to just punch the other kids in the face, knock them out, and kick them out.’
For Johan Wolf Frost, the feeling was even more profound, though he didn't understand the reason at the time.
It was somehow both heartwarming and sorrowful.
He did not yet know it was the weight of sorrow brought by the old commander’s son.
“Clean out your ears and listen up. To use this power, you need to learn two methods of mana control.”
“Mana control?”
“First, for your right hand—the sword—you use the Mana Chain. It’s a chain of mana that spreads its roots throughout your entire body.”
Suddenly, the tip of her sword lunged before Kaisen’s eyes, causing beads of cold sweat to form on his brow.
‘But the sword can’t reach me from this distance.’
A demonic energy, coiling crimson around the blade, had extended its reach and made it possible.
‘Right, this is what Mother used back then…’
When grief seeps hotly into the heart, it becomes resentment and rage. The boy barely managed to compose himself.
“Most swordsmen use the Mana Chain. The main techniques of the Ten-Character Sword also stem from it, but do you think that’s enough to take down Uruks?”
“Then?”
“You also need to be able to handle the Mana Heart. Hey, Wolf!”
A mathematical equation formed in Wolf’s mind, causing a slight anomaly in a corner of the world’s principles.
All at once, a chill coalesced above his palm, forming into an icicle.
The icicle shot forward like an arrow, only to be deflected by a blood-red barrier that erupted from the scabbard Camilla thrust out.
“The sword is for offense, the scabbard for defense?”
“You need to be able to do both with each, you dolt. Trying to make life easy for yourself… is what I’d like to say, but you’re a man, so you won’t be able to use the traditional Ten-Character Sword anyway.”
“Why?”
“Men can’t use the Mana Chain with the same precision as women. It’s so pathetic, it’s embarrassing to even compare.”
“So what am I supposed to do?”
“But they can use it with more size and power. That’s why male swordsmen who reach the master level use heavy weapons that can support their immense mana.”
“So I should change my weapon?”
“We’ll have to see about that, but it’s not like the Ten-Character Sword has no way to utilize that innate mana capacity.”
“And… what’s that?”
“The sword-drawing technique.”
“Sword-drawing?”
“That’s right, the art of drawing the sword. As punishment for being born with a dick, you’ll have to learn a version of the Ten-Character Sword that focuses on drawing techniques rather than the traditional form. That’s my judgment, at least. Historically, no man has ever become a FakeWarrior or mastered the Ten-Character Sword.”
“Sword-drawing is just for show-offs. It’s only used for assassinations or to counter them. I don’t like that stuff.”
“You hopeless idiot. The drawing technique of the Ten-Character Sword is on a completely different level from all others.”
In an instant.
As Camilla gripped the scabbard with her left hand and the hilt with her right, the very atmosphere around them changed.
It became heavy, sharp, suffocating.
“What did I say? That the left hand controls the Mana Heart, right?”
A torrent of mana erupted from her palm and flowed into the scabbard.
“What happens if you keep filling a leather pouch with water?”
“It bursts.”
“The drawing technique of the Ten-Character Sword works on the same principle.”
The heat of the mana, piled and stacked inside the scabbard, began to boil explosively, causing Camilla’s hand on the hilt to tremble.
“You fill the inside of the scabbard with mana from the Mana Heart to its absolute limit, then use the Mana Chain to weave the condensed power together and detonate it in a single moment.”
And then Camilla drew her sword.
He couldn't see the process of the slash tracing its arc; he could only see the result of the sword having been drawn and swung.
Perhaps this is what it would feel like to be in the midst of a sword dance. A form of art achievable with a blade.
The moment the blade reflected the sunlight, *shhlick*, three massive trees that had been swaying in the wind in the forest behind them were sliced in two and fell.
Was it childish awe? He could feel his body tremble with a shiver.
“Show me how to use it.”
“Like this.”
Huh…?
Suddenly, a pain as if his heart had exploded stained his vision crimson.
Only after feeling the agony did he barely register that Camilla had pierced his heart with her scabbard.
A vibration of power tore through the blood vessels of his entire body, a sensation of being consumed from within as blood poured out.
From his mouth, his eyes, his nose.
“Breathe, breathe, you bastard! If you lose consciousness, you’re dead.”
As the world bled into a distorted, dark red, his balance gave way, and the horizon tilted and fell.
“Normally, it takes at least a few years of training to use this power. But am I crazy? You think I’m going to put up with you for years?”
“……?”
“I’ve forcibly opened the pathways for your Mana Chain and Mana Heart. If you can’t handle it, the backlash will kill you. If you can… well, we’ll just have to see.”
He looked to be in considerable pain, writhing on the overgrown, blood-soaked field.
The mercenaries clicked their tongues as if to say they knew this would happen, but the expressions on Johan and Eltram were quite serious.
As Camilla brushed past Johan, the mage with eyes of snowflakes spoke.
“I never thought you’d favor Kaisen this much.”
“What about it.”
“You didn’t just open his pathways; you shared your own inner energy with him just now. Will you be alright? Giving him that much…”
“Hmph, I’m just returning what I received.”
“Returning what you received? What do you mean?”
“I gave it to him because I don’t need it anymore. Now I’m tired, so don’t talk to me.”
*That’s right.*
*I received it from my master, after all.*
*You told me to pass it on to my own student when I became a great Yongsa in your stead.*
‘Don’t blame me later. He’s the one who chose to walk the path of the sword.’
Childhood,
Prologue to Summer (4)
While Kaisen recovered from his internal injuries, he was assigned to Squad 3.
“Clean up after these guys until you’re healed. And learn the basics of combat so you don’t annoy me.”
The squad members weren’t averse to Kaisen—in fact, they were initially thrilled to have a cute rookie join them.
“What should I do?”
“What should you do? Don’t try to do anything.”
“Just stand around?”
When it came to combat, however, they were strictly and stubbornly unwilling to accept him.
“If you want to do something for me, you can warm up my bed. You’re pretty enough that if I just close my eyes, you’ll look like a girl.”
“Uwahahahaha!”
The sergeant who was always cracking lewd jokes was named ‘Long Gun’ Jin.
The long gun was the most powerful among the various types of steam rifles, but everything about it, from the difficulty of firing and reloading to its price, was formidable.
Wielding a long gun meant you were a veteran of veterans (as it meant you’d survived long enough to earn that much money), and Jin said he’d been using one for nearly fifteen years.
Kaisen had even seen Jin shoot an Uruk battle commander squarely in the head from 200 meters away.
“Just shut up, watch, and learn, Mr. Uruk Slayer. We’re not Uruks, you know. Just because one guy is good doesn’t mean we all are. You probably don’t even know what a squad is, do you?”
In this era, a squad was a community bound by fate, built upon the tactical doctrine known as the "Iron Bird Formation."
Two spearmen.
Four riflemen.
One sergeant.
These seven made up a single squad.
It was called the Iron Bird Formation, they said, because they formed up in a V-shape, just like migrating birds.
Ten squads formed a platoon, five platoons a company, and three companies a battalion. Naturally, the V-formation grew larger as more squads gathered.
“The two spearmen stand at the front, and the riflemen spread out on either side like wings.”
“Mm.”
“The spearmen hold back the Uruks with their two-meter-long pikes. The riflemen fire away, then hide behind the spearmen to reload.”
“What about me?”
“You stay in the back and suck your thumb, kid. You can pass the time thinking about your ideal girl. Like Lady Camilla over there.”
“You could die for saying that.”
“My apologies, my lady. But I’m the type who can’t lie, even if I die a hundred times.”
Jin tried to teach Kaisen gunnery as well.
No matter how you looked at it, the idea of a little kid like him fighting Uruk warriors with a sword was just absurd.
But no matter how hard he tried to learn, Kaisen could only see the limitations of gunnery.
“It’s heavy.”
First, you had to equip what was called a ‘Frisbia Core,’ also known as a SteamCore.
Frisbia was the name of the steam engine’s inventor. With the technology of the time, you had to carry a steam engine on your back like a backpack to use a steam rifle.
Ten tubes connecting the Frisbia Core to the rifle provided the power for it to fire.
Because of this, their military packs had to be designed inefficiently with a large hole in the middle.
“How can you fight wearing this?”
When he grumbled in annoyance, Jin and the other mercenaries started to snicker, which soon turned into full-blown laughter.
“Kh, khahahaha!”
“Hee, wahahahaha!”
Was it a cultural difference?
What was so funny about that?
“I was laughing because it’s been so long since I heard someone say that, you brat!”
“?”
“Not just us, the FakeWarrior corps only recruits the most skilled guys. They pay that much, too. It’s been a long time since we’ve met a rookie who complains about his pack being heavy. I didn’t realize it back then, but seeing it again now, it’s actually kind of cute.”
They were the White Skull Brigade.
They wore pure white helmets embossed with a skull, donned pure white uniforms, and draped themselves in pure white capes.
Their attire was a symbol of their confidence and pride as the strongest brigade, a statement that not a single drop of enemy blood would ever stain them.
“Don’t pinch my cheek.”
“Hahahaha! It would be great to be remembered in the history books as the man who pinched the Uruk Slayer’s cheek and lived to tell the tale.”
“Oh, me too then.”
“Me too.”
“Hey, I said stop it!”
If his body had been in proper condition then, he would have beaten them all to a pulp.
He had no interest in gunnery, but he thought it would be best to learn how the squad fought, so he promptly participated in their training.
It wasn't his own judgment, but a gentle suggestion from Johan.
*Think about why Camilla would assign you to a squad, especially to Jin’s squad,* he had said.
“With current technology, a magazine holds five rounds. Do you know what that means?”
After firing all five bullets, you had to go through the reloading process, which required considerable skill.
An average person took about 30 seconds, but the brigade's veterans could do it in around 10.
For reference, Jin’s time was 6 seconds (!).
“Firing, reloading—every part of combat has a rhythm. Understanding this rhythm of battle leads to understanding the rhythm of war.”
It was the heat of the battlefield, something those who rose to command through books and theories alone could never comprehend.
“Squad, form ranks! Fourth Iron Bird Formation!”
When Jin’s order rang out, the playfulness vanished from the squad members’ faces.
In an instant, they formed a V-shaped line.
Whether or not you could form ranks without panicking, no matter the situation, determined life and death.
‘The Iron Bird Formation, huh.’
Even though he hadn't properly learned gunnery, he had certainly learned about gunnery formations.
His time of rest was also a time to connect with these ill-fated companions.
The core of the brigade was comprised of the following four individuals, the so-called Yongsa party.
FakeWarrior Camilla.
The Great Mage of Snowflakes, Johan.
White Bear Eltram.
Long Gun Jin.
Originally, there had been a witch in charge of healing, making it a party of five, but she had been killed in the last battle.
The brigade considered each other blood brothers.
Although Eltram and Jin led the soldiers as sub-commanders, it was less a vertical hierarchy and more a group of close friends.
The exceptions were Camilla and Johan.
Camilla was not a friend; she was the Yongsa they revered.
Veterans like Jin would occasionally tease her lightly, but they all maintained a respectful distance.
Camilla was like the strict father of the brigade, and Johan was the gentle mother. The gender roles in the analogy were reversed, of course.
Strict as she was, Camilla had never abandoned a single soldier (as long as they were alive), and under that firm belief, the soldiers trusted and followed her completely.
Jin emphasized the words "a single one" several times.
In the countless bloody maelstroms of the battlefield, she had never left a single soldier behind.
“They’re both incredible people. Our brigade is the strongest of all existing FakeWarrior brigades. You have no idea how long the line is of guys wanting to join.”
Jin proudly pointed to his pristine white uniform and the helmet eerily engraved with a skull pattern.
“The pure white uniform is a symbol of our confidence that not a single drop of blood will touch us. And we are the rightful successors to the Crimson Flame Brigade, you hear?”
“The Crimson Flame Brigade?”
“You don’t know? It was the legendary brigade led by Raminea Alter Aradamanthel.”
Since Camilla and Johan had been part of the Crimson Flame Brigade led by Raminea Alter Aradamanthel last summer, it was naturally considered the predecessor of the White Skull Brigade.
‘In other words, people who knew Mother.’
Camilla was said to be his mother’s direct disciple. He wondered what kind of master his mother had been.
“Ugh, you moron, you can’t do anything right. Tsk tsk tsk, I’ve said it a dozen times, but I’m really curious what your father looks like.”
She probably wasn't like this.
He was curious but didn't ask. He didn't reveal his own identity either. There were other things he needed to ask about.
That name, that swordsmanship.
A method of slaughter, a tool to stack living sacrifices before his mother's altar. That was what he had to learn now.
[Among the six great demon races, there was a barbaric tribe called the ‘Giant Bones,’ and they were the Uruks.]
Since he couldn’t learn swordsmanship until his body had fully healed, he stoked his thirst for revenge by peeking at the history journal Johan was writing.
[The Uruks were the first wave of the invasion in 1692. The Old Republic crumbled helplessly before these giants, who typically stood seven feet tall.]
The Uruks, who had shattered the southern strategic points in just 50 days, divided their forces into left, right, and center armies to ravage the entire land, their momentum explosively, absurdly powerful.
[At that time, the Papal Office dispatched FakeWarriors. Their mission was to provide cover until the refugees could flee behind the Inferno Line…]
*Wait.*
*Just wait a little longer.*
*I’ll be coming for you all soon enough.*
“You idiot! You can’t even copy this? Just swing the sword with a *whoosh* so it makes a *swish* sound.”
“?”
“Hah, what am I going to do with this fool? A *whoosh*, and then a *swish*. *Whoosh*, *swish*, *whoosh*, *swish*. Is that so hard?”
“?”
“You can’t do it? Are you kidding me? You’re doing this on purpose to make me lose my mind and die, aren’t you?”
“!”
“Just do it. Try it! See! You can do it.”
However, the journey to that point seemed truly arduous.
Wolf, too, thought so and sighed, adding a note to the diary where he meticulously recorded Kaisen’s childhood.
[The fact that Kaisen managed to perfectly complete even this kind of training might make him the best student there ever was.]
As Wolf wrote this, he quietly smiled, watching Kaisen and Camilla.
When teaching Kaisen, Camilla’s perpetually cold expression became richer and more relaxed than usual, and Kaisen, the student, was the same.
“Looks like Camilla doesn’t hate teaching as much as she lets on, huh?”
Beside him, Jin, who was carefully cleaning his long gun with a cigarette dangling from his lips, smirked playfully.
“It’s like watching a chick I raised when I was little.”
“A chick?”
“No matter what the mother hen did, it tried so hard to copy everything. It was so cute to watch, my little sister was crazy about it. Though it did end up on the dinner table for my tenth birthday.”
“Was it really necessary to add that last part, Jin?”
“Lying isn’t in my nature. Anyway, if it was that adorable to a bystander, imagine what it was like for the mother.”
A mother and child…
Jin’s words brought a wistful smile to Wolf’s face.
“At Camilla’s age, it wouldn’t be strange for her to have a child by now.”
But Camilla was a FakeWarrior, and FakeWarriors became infertile due to body modification.
‘That’s right. But if Camilla hadn’t been a FakeWarrior…’