Chapter 9: Star Instructor Kang Geomma (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 9: Star Instructor Kang Geomma (2)
Every single cadet looked as though their soul had left their body. Their eyes were dull and lifeless, like toys whose batteries had run out.
Strange gasps of admiration bubbled up here and there from their parted lips, when...
Schwing.
Flicking Murasame clean, I sheathed it.
Gazes filled with awe pricked at my skin. But all my attention was already fixed on Murasame resting at my waist.
'I've grown a bit rusty.'
As I've mentioned before, I've mostly been handling lightning-attribute magic lately.
Perhaps because of that, my swordsmanship felt a touch off. Of course, that was strictly by my own standards.
'I don't like this feeling.'
My slash—
A slash drawing out the full potential of the Blessing of the Sword God was strong enough now to wound the world itself.
'That's why I refrained from using the Blessing of the Sword God.'
I'll have to practice on my own from now on.
Making that mental resolution, I pulled my eyes away from my waist and swept my gaze over the cadets.
They were waiting endlessly for me to open my mouth.
'Their eyes are going to pop out at this rate.'
I chuckled softly and spoke.
"Sorry, but please don't take what you just saw as a reference. I'm so rusty it's embarrassing."
"...Pardon? What do you mean..."
"The final lecture is in a week, right? I'll show you proper work then, so please just pretend you didn't see anything today."
At my words, everyone's expression turned strange.
* * *
With that, Kang Geomma left the classroom. His lectures were usually short like that.
A lecture was only truly complete with explanations, but he was never good with words.
On top of that, he knew himself that there was simply no way to explain this verbally.
He satisfied himself with letting the cadets vicariously experience things through subspace that they normally wouldn't be able to encounter.
Geomma was aware, too, that this was a form of cop-out.
Even so, he felt leaving silently was better than giving a half-baked lecture. It wouldn't matter if only he looked foolish, but a blunder on his part could negatively affect his wife, Saki Ryozo, who was the academy principal.
That was why Kang Geomma walked out without looking back.
However...
The interpretation of the cadets who audited his lecture was entirely different.
"Whoa."
"Seriously insane."
Everyone remained frozen in their seats like people possessed by ghosts.
Dropouts—the dregs who couldn't handle the Heavenly Sword's class—peered through the window.
Not that anyone cared. The cadets inside didn't give those losers a second glance.
A stunned silence hung over the room, as if ice water had been poured over them.
"Hey," a female cadet muttered to the male cadet beside her. "You saw that just now, right?"
"Yeah. I've never seen a strike like that in my life."
"Subspace is a realm outside physical influence. Yet he cut through that? What is he, seriously?"
"That's why his title is the Heavenly Sword."
As a side note, the female cadet was a special admission student, while the male cadet was from a noble family. Ten years ago, imagining a conversation between two such people would have been nearly impossible.
This change was heavily influenced by the former and current academy principals, Medea Poison and Saki Ryozo, as well as Abel, who advocated for reform within noble society.
"Whoever gave him that title came up with something truly fitting."
Actually, the current Association President Seong Yu-chang gave it to him.
"By the way... is that something anyone can actually imitate?"
"Dummy, how could anyone copy that?"
"Then why did he show us...?"
The male cadet looked puzzled. The female cadet shot him a dry, unimpressed glare.
"He didn't show us so we could imitate it. He told us to engrave that sword strike into our eyes to nourish our own growth. Just because the Hero of the Origin, Balor Joaquin, created subspace, does that mean you can create one too?"
"N-No."
"It's the same logic. Even if you can't duplicate it, blindly imagining something versus seeing it with your own eyes to make it part of reality is night and day."
The female cadet raised her chin slightly. On the first day of lectures, she had been one of the cadets who refused to acknowledge the Heavenly Sword.
Now, however, she praised him more fervently than anyone else. She had even joined his fan club, the Heavenly Demon Cult.
"The Heavenly Sword's strike is the embodiment of the Sword Principle itself," she said, shoulders squared with pride. "So to a swordsman, it's like the ultimate answer. It's just like math. Knowing the right answer doesn't mean you automatically know how to solve the problem, but knowing it makes working toward it a lot easier, doesn't it?"
"But... didn't the Heavenly Sword say at the end that he was 'too rusty'? He literally told us not to take it as a reference."
"Even that was a lesson! If someone who has mastered the Sword Principle still considers himself lacking, it means mere cadets like us shouldn't be arrogant and must strive forward humbly."
"Then what about leaving without any further explanation? Is that a lesson too?"
The female cadet nodded, pride written all over her face. "He left us room to contemplate."
"Crazy. That's so fucking cool. Fucking sexy."
"He really is an amazing person."
The female cadet stared at the door with dazed admiration. "If it were me, I'd want to brag about how awesome I am for half a day, if not a whole day."
"As expected of humanity's hero. Even his lectures are on another level."
And so...
Kang Geomma's stock soared sky-high.
'...My ears are itchy. Is someone talking about me?'
Completely unintentionally.
* * *
The sun of Gehenna was an ink-black color so gloomy it felt suffocating. Its texture was thick and sticky like oil, a pitch darkness that not a single drop of light could penetrate.
Looking at it gave the sensation of being sucked inside. Yes, just like a black hole.
The slanting rays of Gehenna's sun illuminated the ground.
Shadows fell across the vast, cloudy white earth.
A world existing solely in stark monochrome light and shade.
Leon von Reinhardt strode across Gehenna. His body was draped half in the white of the earth and half in the shadow of the sun.
The child of an angel and a demon—it was a scene where the Demon Realm itself seemed to proclaim his identity as a Nephilim.
Crunch, crunch.
Weeds crushed beneath his boots crumbled fruitlessly into dust. The tattered hem of his cloak brushed carelessly against his calves with each step, then came to a sudden halt.
"What's wrong, Leon?"
The middle-aged man walking beside him turned to look at Leon. His bulging muscles were crisscrossed with scars that formed a grid-like pattern.
"Um, well, Father..."
"Hahaha. It still sounds wonderful to hear that. Though this Demon Realm is utterly desolate, walking beside you makes me so fleetingly happy."
The man accompanying him laughed aloud.
"It's all thanks to him."
"Ah... right. It's thanks to him that I can walk like this with you, Father."
His name was Metatron, Leon's father.
Back when he was an angel, he had been betrayed by his own younger brother—who was known as Azazel then, and later as 2nd Corps Commander Kuarne—and tortured by the false gods for eons.
Then, during the 2nd Human-Demon War, he regained his sanity and was liberated from the false gods. This was possible because the shackles binding his mind to the abyss were shattered.
Furthermore, his son, Leon von Reinhardt, who had almost become an enemy of humanity because of him, also regained his freedom. It was all thanks to Kang Geomma's efforts.
"At any rate, what is making you look so serious?"
"Ah, well..."
Leon raised a hand and pointed at the sun.
"Doesn't the color of the sun look a bit grayish for some reason?"
"Hmm."
Metatron shielded his eyes with the edge of his hand and looked up at the sun.
"Indeed, the blackness does seem to have faded slightly. Why does that bother you?"
"To tell you the truth..."
Leon explained the anomaly in Gehenna that he had discovered a few days ago with Meain Poison (San Hana).
At first, Metatron listened with an air of mild curiosity.
However, as the story progressed, his face hardened into a serious expression.
Metatron had been the most brilliant and powerful among the wings of heaven during the Mythic Era.
Now that the false gods were eradicated, he was the entity closest to the root of the universe, with the exceptions of Kang Geomma and Lycan.
"Something is unusual."
"Is... that so...?"
"It is, but there is no need to worry too much, my son."
Metatron gently patted Leon's head.
"You have your father here. I will investigate it separately."
Though he felt inwardly embarrassed at being treated like a child when he was a grown adult, Leon did not pull away from his touch.
These were days he had yearned for for so long.
It felt like living in a dream. A sweet dream he never wanted to wake up from...
"...!"
It was at that moment Metatron's hand froze. Something registered in Leon's senses as well.
The father and son exchanged a glance and immediately kicked off the stone ground. The pale white earth caved in, and a heavy rumble echoed through the area a beat late.
Running faster than the speed of sound, the two quickly arrived at their destination.
Soon, Leon's cloak whipped violently in the wind. As they drew closer, what came into view was a massive crater.
The terrain of the Demon Realm Gehenna shifted constantly.
Even so...
That was merely the reassembling of basic elements. Something entirely unprecedented, like this, did not simply spring into existence.
Therefore, even to Leon and Metatron, who had made their home in the Demon Realm, this pit was completely foreign.
...Whoooooosh.
The pit exhaled and inhaled wind rhythmically. It was as if a living creature were breathing, and its circular shape closely mirrored the sun in the sky.
Leon and Metatron looked down into the pit from the edge of the cliff. It was so deep that even the eyesight of these two transcendent beings could not gauge the bottom.
They glanced at each other, closed their eyes, and opened them again.
Immediately after, a feather settled on Leon's shoulder. A pair of wings had sprouted from his back.
"Let us go, my son."
"Yes, Father."
The angel and the Nephilim leaped unhesitatingly into the crater. In the spot where they had stood, only feathers scattered lightly through the air.
* * *
In the quiet room of Joaquin Academy.
The Sword Emperor and Medea were enjoying tea time as usual. The Spear Saint, Richard de Myura, had departed the country about a week ago due to pressing duties.
"Old geezer, why aren't you leaving?"
"Can't I stay where I damn well please?"
Medea's fine eyes narrowed.
"You can. But I don't think you've stayed this long since ten years ago when you suddenly demanded to be hired as an instructor."
"Ahem, ahem."
"You still clear your throat first whenever you get flustered, just like in the past. But well, I suppose an old retired geezer has nothing better to do, so killing time like this isn't bad."
"Can you stop calling me an 'old retired geezer'?!"
"It's true though..."
Normally, she would have cut him off sharply to tease the Sword Emperor.
However, Medea trailed off. It was because the Sword Emperor looked younger now than he had ten years ago.
A hero's life expectancy was relatively long at around 140 years. Aging was slowed due to the influence of Blessings.
The reason their average lifespan was only around 60 years was simply that being a hero was a combat profession.
Returning to the main point.
'Is Zieg eating something good these days?'
Setting Medea aside—since she was an Ancient—the Sword Emperor was an ordinary (?) human. Even as a descendant of the Sword Saint, his expected lifespan was fixed.
Yet the Sword Emperor was getting younger.
The wrinkles on his face had visibly smoothed out. In fact, it wasn't just him; the Spear Saint was the same way.
For men pushing eighty, the Sword Emperor and the Spear Saint were far too energetic.
While as a friend she was very happy for them, it also weighed uneasy on her mind.
'I'll have to check this separately using the Poet's Blessing.'
The Poet's Blessing was Medea's unique blessing.
It was a prophetic sight that allowed her to peer into the future.
While Medea was deep in thought, the Sword Emperor set down his teacup and changed the subject.
"By the way, I hear the Heavenly Sword has been giving lectures lately? How is he being received among the cadets?"
"Apparently, the number of students dropped sharply after the first day. But among the remaining cadets, his ratings are overwhelmingly good. It's so good that even my retired ears heard about it."
"So the Heavenly Sword has a knack for teaching as well."
"Tell me about it. There really isn't anything he can't do. Should I take a shot at it too while I'm at it?"
The Sword Emperor's eyebrows twitched. "Take a shot at what?"
"What else? The position of Geomma's third wife."
"..."
"What? Why are you looking at me like that, punk?"
Medea snapped at the Sword Emperor's silence.
"I'm an Ancient, okay? Age gaps mean nothing to me! You silly bastard."
Age gap isn't the issue here, woman.
Proposing to the Heavenly Sword, whose wife was her friend's granddaughter... Even in this world with relaxed views on marriage, it would create an unprecedentedly messed-up family tree.
'Medea, you really are a bitch.'
The Sword Emperor thought about arguing, then gave up.
He simply closed his eyes tightly as dizziness washed over him.
* * *
That weekend, I received a contact from Yoo Se-in. She was a girl who normally stuck to texting, but she had called me in a hurry.
I headed straight to Yoo Se-in's apartment.
For some reason, I felt tense. Applying a bit of force to my grip, I turned the doorknob and walked inside.
"Oh, you're here?"
Yoo Se-in greeted me. She didn't look... particularly serious.
At least not judging by how she was munching on stale potato chips. Even those were probably bought with Abel and Ryozo's hard-earned money. A dark crimson urge stung my throat.
"Should I kill her?"
"What?"
"Ignore it. Just my inner thoughts speaking aloud."
"Hearing it's your 'inner thoughts' makes me worry even more. Anyway, come in. There's something I need to tell you."
Yoo Se-in said, licking her fingertips clean.
Feeling a slight wave of exhaustion, I slumped onto the living room sofa at an angle and asked, "Why'd you summon me on a golden weekend?"
"I'll get straight to the point."
Yoo Se-in's black eyes turned solemn.
"Let's say this world is this chip bag."
Yoo Se-in tightly squeezed the opening of the chip bag. The bag puffed up tightly.
"And let's say the concept of 'perfection' is this fully expanded chip bag."
"Eighty percent of that is nitrogen."
"Ah, come on. It's a metaphor, a metaphor!"
Frowning, Yoo Se-in continued.
"Anyway, this chip bag represents the current state of 'this world' we live in. It couldn't be better. Everyone is satisfied, and nothing is lacking."
"That's a surprisingly accurate metaphor."
"That was our delusion. No, the fundamental premise itself was wrong. Think about it. Geomma, you slaughtered the false gods, right?"
I nodded.
"But isn't it strange? Blessings are bestowed by gods, so how are heroes still able to use Blessings right now? That shouldn't be possible."
"That's..."
It was a completely logical point with no room for counterargument.
"Blessings today are no longer Blessings. A Blessing is like a plug meant to fill human deficiencies. But currently, for humanity—including you—there are no notable deficiencies left. So what's left? The power of the Blessings just keeps expanding endlessly. What do you think happens when that goes on?"
Yoo Se-in held up her other hand opposite the twisted top of the chip bag.
Then, without warning, she slammed her palm against the bottom of the bag.
BANG!
An explosive sound that shocked the eardrums echoed.
"Even a minor shock makes it pop like this."
The Saintess, Yoo Se-in, issued a warning to the world.
"And that is precisely what the Counterforce wants."