Chapter 15: It's an Unwritten Rule That Transfer Students Are Singularities (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 15: It's an Unwritten Rule That Transfer Students Are Singularities (3)
Out of nowhere, during our subspace sparring, Leon had asked me, “Did you just cut down death itself?”
‘…No?’
I was way too old for this kind of cringe, wasn't I? Just as my vision was about to blur from the sheer absurdity of lines coming out of an (aspiring) hero's mouth, a lightbulb suddenly flickered in my head.
“Ah, so that’s what it was.”
The training ground remained dead silent. Up in the sky, a bald eagle froze mid-descent, hovering awkwardly in place.
In this grayscale, paused frame of time, I felt like the only living creature left with color. Leon’s voice had echoed enough times that every single audience member must have heard it loud and clear. Whatever his past was, he was an (aspiring) hero, so his words naturally carried weight.
‘Man, I really hope that old nickname doesn’t resurface because of this.’
You know the one.
Death Sashimi.
I had so many titles attached to my name that it was a moniker(?) buried years ago…
Yet I had a very reasonable suspicion that the tacky alias was about to rise from the dead. Damn it. I was twenty-seven and a married man; what kind of ridiculous name was Death Sashimi?
Caw, caw.
Right on cue, the bald eagle—Eagle XIV—cried out, as if heralding the dark clouds gathering over my mindscape.
The surroundings were so quiet that my internal ramble went on longer than intended, but anyway.
Thanks to the stillness, I was able to reflect on why Leon had suddenly developed a late case of eighth-grade syndrome.
‘He mistook the Blessing of Borrowed Power.’
Now his reaction made sense. From an outsider’s perspective, it really must have looked like I had sliced through death itself. In fact, isolated from context, that description wasn't entirely wrong.
When you spend enough time swinging a blade, you start to feel a certain flow. A rhythm, so to speak. It’s probably similar to how master Chinese chefs chop ingredients at a steady beat. A sashimi knife is still a blade, so the same principle applies.
Granted, slicing ingredients and cutting down people are two very different things. But since I completely erase my emotions whenever I wield a blade, they were essentially the same to me.
Anyway.
‘I got too carried away.’
I'll be honest. Without thinking, I had unleashed a slash capable of bisecting the world. To be fair, at my peak, every single one of my slashes was meant to cut the world apart.
That was only natural, considering I was the God of Sword. If I didn't regulate my strength, this fragile world would be torn into absolute tatters.
But still.
The swordsman’s rhythm I usually kept sealed inside me had reared its head. In a world where there were no heroes left to match me—let alone stand as my equal—I had finally met someone who could somewhat keep up after a very long time. Swept up in the excitement, my control slipped for a brief second.
‘So I instantly activated the Blessing of Borrowed Power to rewind time.’
Originally, the Blessing of Borrowed Power wasn't this potent. At best, it could rewind a few seconds around an event. Which was already broken enough, but because the Blessing of the Sword God was so monstrous, the Blessing of Borrowed Power had been influenced by it. Once I perfected the Blessing of the Sword God, the Blessing of Borrowed Power automatically upgraded to its Divine form—Divine Blessing of Borrowed Power. That was why I could interfere with the laws of the world like I just did.
‘Cutting down death, huh? I’ve never thought about it like that before.’
Then again, would it really be impossible? The sudden spark of inspiration made the inside of my head itch. I almost wanted to stick a finger in and scratch the folds of my brain.
I had arranged this spar to teach the cadets, but somehow I was the one walking away with a new enlightenment. Not that there was anything wrong with that in its own right.
Shake, shake.
I shook my head. Only then did the frozen world begin to move again. A collective gasp burst from the packed stands, and a shrill groan leaked from Leon’s lips.
I adjusted my grip on my two sashimi knives, flipping them into a reverse hold, and looked at Leon.
‘He looks pale as a ghost, but damn, he’s still handsome.’
Leon was somehow still standing, looking as if he might collapse from exhaustion at any moment. A faint, pleased smile curled the corners of my lips as I spoke.
“Want to keep going?”
“Of course…”
Truly a hero. He had just hovered on the brink of death—strictly speaking, he had died and just been revived—yet his competitive spirit immediately flared back to life.
Though, judging by how visibly his knees were trembling, he wouldn't last much longer.
‘Even if he loses, I want to make sure he leaves the impression that he fought well.’
My deliberation lasted only a split second; action came immediately after.
Lowering my center of gravity, I pushed power into my legs. My vision blurred. Sure enough, red fire was pouring from my eye sockets in streams.
—BANG!
Accompanied by a flash of light, my body shot forward.
* * *
And so, the subspace spar came to an end.
The clash, which had seemed roughly neck and neck, concluded in a single bound from the Heavenly Sword. While the outcome was a given, the display was as breathtakingly novel as ever.
Even Lee Won-bin, a proud honoree of this year's Top 100 Bald Men, was left thoroughly mesmerized. What chance did the cadets stand?
Leon’s unexpected appearance had already sent blood rushing to their brains, but the content of the subspace battle was nothing short of unprecedented. It defied description.
Because they couldn't see a thing.
Their eyes wide with shock, their mouths opened and closed like sick goldfish. The expressions on their faces all seemed to say the same thing:
—How are we supposed to learn anything if we can't even see it!
Lee Won-bin sympathized completely. The elegant moment when the two drew their swords was likely the first and last thing anyone had actually managed to catch. Even Lee Won-bin himself, using his Blessing, had only managed to track up to five exchanges before losing sight of them.
‘Rather than an educational demonstration, it feels more like a match to satisfy the Heavenly Sword's own desires.’
Looking at his disciple's back as Leon walked away, the young man seemed noticeably lighter. Lee Won-bin felt a complex mix of joy and sadness—a sense of helplessness at failing to properly fulfill his role as a master.
“Senior.”
A clear, bright voice called out to Lee Won-bin. Glancing sideways, he saw Choi Seol-ah standing beside him before he even realized it.
“…When did you get here?”
“Just now.”
“No, wait, is the Principal’s secretary even allowed to leave her post like this?”
“I have my standards too!”
Choi Seol-ah huffed indignantly, pointing her index finger. On the other end of her finger stood a lone, vacant chair. It was where the Academy Principal had been sitting until moments ago.
Naturally, Leon could only enter the academy with the explicit permission of the principal, Saki.
‘You’ve grown so much, Saki.’
The fact that it was the principal—and no one else—made this moment deeply meaningful. Saki’s father, the Archery Saint, had died in battle during the 2nd Human-Demon War.
The relationship between father and daughter had been terrible. The details were an open secret among academy insiders.
Yet the Archery Saint's end was heroic. Demonstrating the ultimate spirit of heroism—self-sacrifice—his remains laid the groundwork for the current Joaquin Academy.
Perhaps as a result, Saki had forgiven the Archery Saint. Though he had been the worst parent imaginable, she respected him as a hero. She had once confessed as much to Lee Won-bin.
‘And the person directly responsible for Sir Archery Saint's death was none other than Leon von Reinhardt.’
Yet Saki had readily welcomed Leon into the academy. She had forgiven him too.
As her teacher, Lee Won-bin could say with absolute certainty: among her peers, Saki possessed the loftiest depth of mind, while her husband, Kang Geomma, possessed unmatched martial prowess.
Choi Seol-ah stared sulkily at the side of Lee Won-bin’s face, which was steeped in nostalgic reminiscence.
Then, her eyes drifted toward the crowd of politicians' children sitting further away. As if on cue, their faces were ashen pale.
“Oho.”
Old habits die hard. The wicked streak ingrained in Choi Seol-ah during her past days as a villain suddenly reared its head.
“Senior, Senior.”
She nudged his shoulder with her elbow, subtly motioning toward the group of aristocrats with her eyes.
“What now?”
“Those kids have been causing such a racket lately that the Principal’s had a headache because of them.”
“It’s because they’re young. If they were adults, hardened by the ups and downs of the world, they wouldn't have the audacity to pull shit like that. Besides, they aren't called hero candidates for nothing. Their brains are wired differently from ordinary people, which is why they’re here. Joaquin Academy is a place meant to cultivate the courage to defy death.”
“If that’s the case—” Choi Seol-ah’s lips curled into a strange arc. “Then my Lord… I mean, the Heavenly Sword seems to have thoroughly crushed whatever courage they had left.”
It was a plausible assessment. The academy was meant to teach cadets how to brave death—it was never meant to teach them how to deal with someone who had literally died and come back to life. You couldn't find a lesson like that anywhere in the universe.
Choi Seol-ah scoffed and mocked the third-years as if serving them right. A fine example of an instructor's attitude.
Lee Won-bin considered scolding her, but instead, he looked up at the sky. His eyes met the bald eagle gliding through the clear blue expanse.
“I shall trust that the Hero of the Origin is watching over us.”
* * *
As expected, night in Demon Realm Gehenna was treacherous. The magic power grew far denser than during the day, making the toxins—already lethal to humans—infinitely worse.
Even heroes of Warrior rank or higher couldn't dare roam Gehenna at night. In truth, among the human species, it was an impossible feat for anyone other than Kang Geomma.
And yet.
Step, step.
A figure cut through the twilight. Jade-white skin, black hair, and dull, emotionless black pupils. By all appearances, a human.
A naked girl walked aimlessly, treading down the thoroughfares and occasionally carving her own path.
She had no set destination. She moved wherever her consciousness guided her footsteps.
The Black Sun sank completely below the horizon. As the girl walked along a forest path, a thicket of bushes trembled before her.
Soon, a group emerged from the shadows of the woods. Three in total.
All three had long, pointed ears, and their eyes glowed with a faint yellowish-green luminescence. They were a group of High Elves.
Having taken a severe beating from Kang Geomma earlier, they were currently stumbling back toward their canopy settlement.
“…What is that?” one elf muttered in disbelief. A human wandering around at night? And stark naked, no less?
While the three elves stood there flabbergasted, the girl brushed past them without giving them a second glance.
Veins bulged on the elves' jaws at the sudden humiliation of being ignored by a mere human. They were already walking back battered and humiliated after being slaughtered by Kang Geomma. Bad luck was piling up today, and now a human girl dared to brush them off?
They had no idea how she had gotten in here, but they desperately needed an outlet for their brewing violent urges.
“Human.” A female elf grabbed the girl by the shoulder, threatening her with a sinister smirk. “We’re in a terrible mood right now. I don't think we'll feel better until we kill you. Why don't you come with us?”
“……”
The girl turned around quietly. The shoulders of the three elves flinched.
It was only then that they realized her eyes were completely, pitch black. As panic took hold of them, the girl tilted her head.
“■ie?”
“What is that supposed to—”
The female elf felt a sudden warmth above her upper lip. Releasing the girl's shoulder, she brought a hand beneath her nose.
Blue liquid. Blood.
She tried to shift her gaze back to the girl.
Too late.
POP—!!
The headless corpse collapsed into a heap. A pool of blue blood soaked the girl’s bare feet. The remaining two elves turned deathly pale.
The black glow of her eyes, which had been staring down at the High Elf's corpse, slid slowly toward the pair retreating in terror. The girl opened her mouth once more.
“■■.”
The other two met the exact same end.
The girl gazed quietly down at the three bodies. After a moment, she stripped the clothes off the female elf who had first picked a fight with her and put them on. Since High Elves were taller than humans, the sleeves and pant legs dangled loosely on her frame.
The girl didn't care. Dragging the oversized clothes behind her like a paintbrush, she continued forward.
Her goal on this journey was to find the man who had flickered within her mindscape ever since the moment she came into being—the man with the exact same hair and eyes as her own.
* * *
That evening, I had dinner with Ryozo. Today was an odd-numbered day.
Before we dug into dinner, I offered her my thanks.
“Thanks, Ryozo.”
“Hm? For what?”
“For letting Leon enter the academy. Especially considering what he means to you…”
“It’s been ten whole years. Why bring that up now?”
Ryozo shook her head casually.
“You explained it to me enough that I understand. It was just a difference in perspective. Leon was ultimately played by the 2nd Corps Commander too. He was just trying to save his father.”
Knowing something and accepting it were two entirely different things.
I knew better than anyone how terrible the relationship between Ryozo and the Archery Saint had been. But blood was still blood. Just as her mother, the Divine Doctor Cynthia, could never truly let go of her lingering feelings for the Archery Saint.
Leon had to kill someone else’s father to save his own. That was the nature of conflicting perspectives, and that was precisely why it was war. The victims were left to carry the harsh past like a tattoo for the rest of their lives.
“Speaking of fathers,” Ryozo asked me suddenly. “You said you had a father too, right?”
“I did. Though he was my adoptive father.”
“…Would it be selfish of me to ask about him?”
Ryozo quietly set down her chopsticks and bowed her head slightly. She fidgeted with her fingers, peering at me with those sky-blue eyes. She was still awkwardly learning how to show consideration for others.
A smile touched my lips.
“Not at all. If anything, I’m sorry I haven't told you sooner.”
Ryozo perked up, quickly moving seats to sit right beside me. Snuggling close, she perked up her ears in full focus.
“Before that.” A dead serious gaze. “Does Abel know about this?”
“You’re the very first person I’m telling.”
Ryozo pumped her little fist in triumph and nodded.
“I’m ready.”
Feeling Ryozo’s warmth pressed against my chest, surrounded by the comfort of family, I began to speak of Balor Joaquin—my adoptive father who had taken me in and raised me, the Hero of the Origin.