Test Cut (2)
The old man who had told me to prove my skills led me to an empty lot behind the forge.
This place seemed to be used for testing the durability of armor or the sharpness of swords—plenty of blades showing signs of use and battered armor pieces lay scattered across the ground.
“Do you know what organization means, old man?”
I wasn’t particularly obsessive about cleanliness, but the chaotic scene made me blurt it out thoughtlessly.
“Shut your trap. Even if it looks like this, I remember where everything goes and put it in the right spot.”
That was the classic excuse from people who never tidied up. He was probably one of them.
I hadn’t come here to quibble over that anyway. Pointing to a nearby suit of armor, I said,
“So, I just need to slash that one roughly?”
“No, what you’re going to cut isn’t some test dummy armor like that.”
With those words, the old man pointed to a massive wooden crate over a meter tall.
Unless he’d lost his mind, he wasn’t telling me to cut the box itself. It had to be something inside.
“What’s in there?”
“…This is a suit of armor commissioned by one of your senpai knights.”
Calling him a senpai suggested it was from a second- or third-year student.
The old man grabbed a rusty iron crowbar lying haphazardly on the ground amid the swords and pried out the nails securing the crate.
“Not to brag as the maker, but with these materials, I don’t think it could’ve been made any better. It’s a masterpiece.”
“And it’s okay if that masterpiece gets sliced in two?”
“Heh…”
The old man smirked and added that I wouldn’t even leave a scratch.
When he opened the crate, what emerged was armor as pure white as snow.
As I wondered if any senior character wore something like this, the old man pulled out all the pieces and set them on the wooden lid.
The armor’s design was ornate, reminiscent of a rose somewhere in its elaborate curves.
“The armor’s name is White Rose. It’s the finest armor money can buy, made with an abundance of white flower iron, which is mined only in tiny quantities up north.”
“White flower iron?!”
I’d heard the name countless times in the novel, so I instantly grasped how incredible this armor was.
White flower iron, a rare metal mined only in the north, was one of the scarcest metals around—more valuable than gold by weight.
There were metals that could match its raw strength.
But none could rival it due to white flower iron’s unique property, no matter how similar their hardness.
White flower iron reacted to the user’s or nearby aura and mana, growing even tougher.
In other words, even without the wearer personally reinforcing it with their own aura, it hardened automatically against aura-infused attacks or spells.
There was a limit to how much tougher it could get, but the stronger the attack, the harder it became—the ultimate shield.
Asking a freshman to destroy something like this? My earlier comment must’ve really pissed him off.
“Old man, don’t you hear ‘childish’ a lot?”
“Blab all you want. So, you gonna do it or not? If you know about white flower iron, you know how reckless this is.”
“Yeah, I know it very well.”
Both its strengths and weaknesses.
“Old man, don’t go demanding compensation after I cut it.”
“That won’t happen, but even if it did, I wouldn’t be petty like that.”
With that, the old man placed the helmet on top of a lump of scrap metal covered in sword marks.
“Try cutting this helmet. If you do, I’ll make that reverse-blade sword or whatever you asked for. But if you can’t… never touch a sword again.”
Never touch a sword—meaning, never draw again. Even facing that brutal penalty, my heart didn’t waver in the slightest.
“…Just the helmet, huh?”
“You can’t even cut the helmet, and you’re worrying about the armor? No, do you really think you can cut past the helmet to the armor?”
“Honestly, cleaving it perfectly in two might be too much, but half…”
Those words must’ve ignited his competitive spirit, because he removed the helmet, placed the armor on top, then set the helmet back on that.
“…If you’re that confident, go as far as you can. But if you fail… you know what happens, right?”
“Yes, I know very well.”
Right after saying that, the first thing I did was step back more than ten paces from the armor.
White flower iron hardened in response to the opponent’s aura.
It was unlikely, but if it reacted to any aura I couldn’t control, that’d be trouble.
Two main ways to counter white flower iron.
First: Shatter it in one blow with aura or magic exceeding its maximum hardness.
And the second I was about to use now…
“Haa…”
I exhaled deeply, closed my eyes, and recalled the old man’s words.
Never touch a sword again.
There was no magical geas binding me, no real reason to honor it. But if I failed, I’d keep the promise.
Otherwise, I couldn’t face myself—or Battōjutsu—with a clear conscience.
Opening my eyes again, the pure white White Rose armor stood before me, looking several times tougher than the academy’s white walls.
Without taking my eyes off White Rose, I silently placed my hand on the sword hilt.
“Sss…! Haa…!”
Inhaling and exhaling, I slowly infused my circulating blood with aura, strengthening my body.
Heat built gradually, a sensation I’d never felt before spreading through me.
Before my mind grasped it, my instincts and flesh knew: this was the strongest my body had ever been since birth.
But it wasn’t enough.
If raw muscle power alone could do it, white flower iron wouldn’t have its reputation.
In Battōjutsu, it wasn’t my body clashing directly with White Rose.
I poured aura into the sword to its limit, reinforcing the scabbard as well so it could withstand the draw.
The scabbard, overflowing with aura and on the verge of bursting, began shaking violently like there was an earthquake.
Honestly, I was nervous.
This Battōjutsu assumed the sword and scabbard would be destroyed, so I’d only ever used it once.
I’d only used it once, but its destructive power surpassed any other technique I knew, which was why I chose it now.
If it failed, there’d be no second chance.
As I gauged the moment, staking everything on this single draw—
-Crunch!
A ominous sound came from the wooden scabbard, and like when I first developed this technique, I knew it was time.
“Aaaaaaah!!!!”
I drew with a massive kiai, but my shout was soon drowned out by the roar from the scabbard.
A thunderclap or massive bomb explosion would be the only comparison as my sword blazed with light.
The ultra-fast, ultra-powerful Battōjutsu exploded the compressed aura from the scabbard like a cannon, shredding the air’s resistance and generating a huge shockwave.
The recoil exceeded my expectations for a moment, nearly throwing my blade off course, but I corrected it at the last second. My sword flew straight toward White Rose’s helmet.
-Screeech!!
The helmet collided with my blade, crumpling like melting iron before shattering into pieces and collapsing pathetically.
Having smashed the helmet, my sword plunged toward the breastplate—the main body of White Rose below.
Once more, my blade met White Rose.
A wretched roar echoed across the lot, like torn metal begging for mercy.
Sparks flew spectacularly from the clash, but the fierce struggle ended abruptly with a sudden explosion.
“Ugh!!”
My sword, striking down on White Rose, vibrated so intensely I nearly lost my grip on the hilt before exploding.
This happened when you forced more aura into a weapon than it could handle. It was only the second time I’d seen it firsthand.
Moments later, the black smoke from the sword’s explosion dissipated in the wind, revealing White Rose. I smiled.
My blade hadn’t cleaved it entirely, but it had slashed from chest to abdomen across a wide area, prying open wounds with the explosion’s shock and leaving it in a truly wretched state.
And not just that—the scorch marks from the sword’s detonation had blackened White Rose, trampling the old man’s pride underfoot. It felt extremely refreshing.
Success.
The second way to cut white flower iron armor or shields.
Slash it as fast as possible before it can react to aura or mana.
Battōjutsu: Explosive Sword[Rank: B+]
Infuse aura into the sheathed sword, then explode it from the scabbard to slash the enemy with the recoil and detonate the blade.
If used after a preemptive draw, the scabbard won’t break, and you can harness the recoil more effectively without being thrown off. Additionally…
No. That’s bullshit.
Additionally, the difference in power between exploding aura from a sheathed state versus post-draw is negligible, so it’s meaningless.
In fact, the friction and shock from drawing damage the sword, causing it to explode faster than a post-draw burst—making it inefficient.
“……”
Shut up. Fuck.