Chapter 405
Chapter 405
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 405
>Chapter Title: Show Me Your Limit Once
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Sword Master.
The title of the strongest in history.
This honor was reserved solely for the greatest warrior of all time.
But why the specific qualifier of "Sword"?
The reason was simple.
Ever since the concept of martial arts came into being, among all the warriors who had ever existed, the absolute strongest had always been a swordsman.
No one knew why.
Some claimed it was due to demonic swords, but there were transcendent artifacts like demonic spears as well.
Other transcendent artifacts existed, albeit far fewer in number than demonic swords. Thus, demonic swords could not be the cause.
In truth, the reason why the strongest in history had always been a swordsman was not the important point.
There was only one thing that mattered.
...The strongest in history.
The title of Sword Master denoted precisely that.
So, how was the strongest in history determined?
Unlike mages, who had clear metrics, opinions were divided on the greatest warrior of all time.
Transcendence.
That supreme realm was merely the baseline.
Transcendent artifacts like demonic swords? The title of strongest in history was awarded based on pure martial prowess, without aid from any artifacts.
Some argued that if someone became the undisputed strongest of their era, they were worthy of being called the strongest in history.
Secret arts evolved over time, and those advanced arts allowed warriors to ascend to higher realms more easily.
But that was no proper standard.
A "strongest" title earned in a peaceful era without war differed from one forged in chaos.
Opinions varied widely.
Some said matching the feats of the previous Sword Master was enough to claim the title of strongest in history. Others insisted it required the recognition of the patriarchs of all renowned swordsmanship families.
Each argument had its merits.
Yet none served as a firm criterion.
So how, then...?
Sword Master.
How was the bearer of that title decided?
Throughout history, gossips and enthusiasts had debated the topic passionately, but alas, they never reached a conclusion.
And rightly so, for every Sword Master who had ever existed had simply been called that at some point.
As if it were rightfully theirs.
...That was, until two hundred years ago.
From a certain incident onward, an unshakeable—though not immutable—"standard" emerged.
What was that incident?
- The Emperor Assassination Incident
Shine von Lemang, the last scion of the fallen swordsmanship family Lemangga, stormed the imperial palace, severed the emperor's head, and defiled the throne in a catastrophe for the ages.
She beheaded hundreds of knights and mages, slaughtered three Master Knights, and ultimately sat upon the throne to claim the emperor's head for herself.
And then...
- Now, I am the emperor.
The knight of tragedy who closed his eyes upon the throne.
Though he was the empire's nightmare, he presented new horizons to the knights.
This became the firm standard.
Shine von Lemang.
Surpassing her.
...Yet, here and now.
No warrior capable of surpassing Shine von Lemang, the knight of tragedy, existed.
Save...
“...”
Shine von Lemang herself—the one who had risen from death as a vampire.
Emerging from the realm of selflessness, Shine half-opened her eyes and let the Lemangga demonic sword Proteus droop. Its pure white blade gleamed brightly in the sunlight.
* * *
“Indeed, your unity is impressive.”
Shine smiled, savoring the long-forgotten sense of liberation. Hundreds of exchanges in the world of selflessness had been more than enough to restore her former realm to her.
Before her, Oukan gripped his greatsword with a hardened expression.
‘He’s seen the pinnacle of martial arts?’
Oukan had no choice but to rethink his assumptions. This challenger from Amar had not merely glimpsed the pinnacle of martial arts.
Rather...
‘Martial arts itself.’
Though Oukan had discarded the soul of a warrior, he could not help but feel awe. But awe was just awe.
‘How long can he maintain that composure?’
Kicking off from his position, Oukan’s form scattered into the air for an instant. A shallow feint using sorcery.
Yet no matter how shallow, when employed by Oukan—a sorcerer who had reached the pinnacle—it was a technique that could not be dismissed lightly.
“Intriguing.”
Shine extended her senses to track Oukan’s presence. But she sensed nothing. Oukan reappeared behind her.
Tszz—
A faintly rippling spirit form. The soul of the great warrior Kaliman, infused with the martial arts honed over a lifetime. Its realm fell short of Oukan’s own, but the sword’s master was ultimately Oukan.
Pajjzzzt—!
Emerald Tra flickered like lightning, slicing through space. At the same moment, Kaliman entered transcendence.
The transcendence of Tra-wielding warriors differed from that of mages or knights.
Tzzzing—
It matched in finely dividing the instant, but the scenery within that fragmented time was viewed through Tra. Beyond lay an unknowable flow.
In a world rippling red, blue, and in every color, Oukan’s spirit took a bold step forward.
It was a different spirit from the one infused with martial arts into the blade.
The second Kaliman spirit under Oukan’s command.
Unbound by physical form, the spirit raised its sword high within the transcendent time. As Oukan’s blade swept horizontally through space, the spirit’s sword fell vertically.
Shine’s eyes flashed at that exact moment.
“...!”
Oukan could not hide his shock at the sight unfolding before him. Only his thoughts had accelerated...
Ssssh—
Accompanied by an impossible frictional sound, the pure white blade danced through the air. Or so it seemed—before it had already reached the ‘end.’ As if ‘beginning’ and ‘end’ were one.
Immediately after...
Kwangchang!
“...Kuh!”
Oukan groaned as he was forcibly ejected from transcendence. The spirit slashed by the pure white sword staggered as if it were a living being with flesh and blood. It wasn’t entirely impossible. There were sorcery tools capable of striking spirits directly.
While supplying Tra to the dispersing spirit, Oukan moved his lips. The incantation spilling from them infused the Tra, stimulating mana.
“Hoo.”
Shine’s eyes gleamed with interest as she gauged the ‘sorcery’ caught in her senses. It fluttered toward her like a butterfly—one wing. Slow-seeming, yet not slow at all.
Should she take it with her body, or...?
She didn’t ponder long.
“Sorcery is tricky, isn’t it?”
Sorcery could not be slashed by ordinary means. Even grand archmages’ spells couldn’t block it. But...
Re-entering transcendence, Shine focused her mind. A sword strike where beginning and end were one. The very sword that had felled Aebiron, first seat of the Decullan Seven Mages. It was not an ‘act,’ but a ‘concept.’
Seok—
The slashed sorcery fluttered in the air like a butterfly with torn wings before evaporating.
“Indeed, a monster.”
“You’re no less worthy of the title. If only for that rotten mind of yours.”
Shine was sincere. None of Oukan’s strikes, his spirits, or his sorcery were to be taken lightly.
One need only note that she had used her ‘sword strike’ twice because of him.
But.
“If you say that already, what’s the point.”
Oukan bared a feral grin. And then...
Pajik, pajijik—
“Huh!”
The change that followed left even Shine stunned.
The spirit’s form split like an afterimage. No—it only seemed to split; an optical illusion.
Kang—!
“Huh, two surprised me... but twelve spirits?”
Shine parried Oukan’s relentless strikes while voicing her admiration. The exchanges were so rapid that sharp ‘kagagagak!’ sounds echoed.
Sparks flew in the air as the spirits Oukan called the Twelve Martial Gods swung their blades from every direction. Vertical, horizontal—from all angles, the onslaught of strikes poured in, and Shine closed her eyes.
She wasn’t watching.
She was feeling.
And then—
Chaaaaang...!
A crisp metallic ring resounded through the air. Proteus, slicing through the unseen speed, repelled the spirits’ blades.
“Truly troublesome.”
Shine immediately kicked off and leaped skyward. Her body spun in a whirlwind—or so it seemed—before unleashing a single sharp sword strike.
“Hup...!”
Oukan laid his greatsword diagonally and blocked with the flat of the blade. Even supporting it with his palms, the immense impact made his body sway.
And so...
“Hup!”
One breath.
As he inhaled, Shine—who had already landed—seized the gap and thrust her sword. Sometimes, a sword unburdened by any imagery was the fiercest.
This strike was just that.
Between one breath and the next. Pinpointing the severed flow, the strike made Oukan grimace and enter transcendence.
Tzzing—!
Only within the fragmented instant could Oukan respond.
One of the Twelve Martial Gods deflected Shine’s thrust...
‘...More.’
Receiving Oukan’s command, the spirits swung their blades to slaughter the enemy as they had in life. Unlike the initial varied attacks from twelve directions, this was a unified strike.
Possible only because the spirits lacked physical form.
But.
Kang—!
Shine repelled the twelve spirits’ blades with a strike of beginning and end as one, then promptly exited transcendence.
“How delightful.”
Fools who treated martial arts as mere tools might not understand, but encountering a worthy foe was quite enjoyable. Especially after reaching the supreme realm.
Those who sought rivals craved endless struggle, only to find solitude at its end.
In that sense, Oukan was more than enough to soothe Shine’s loneliness.
Of course... it was an emotion Oukan could never comprehend.
“Ha!”
Oukan burst into incredulous laughter and powerfully kicked off the ground, soaring upward. In an instant, his body shot into the sky. And then—
Tzuzz...!
Sorcery pulled his body downward. The muscles in his raised arms swelled to their limit.
Shine swung her sword to bisect him, but the Twelve Martial Gods on the ground harried her fiercely.
Thus, when Oukan’s body met the ground.
Kwang!
A thunderous boom erupted. Dust billowed thickly as his greatsword plunged into the earth.
But.
“Tch.”
Oukan clicked his tongue, feeling no sensation of cutting flesh or bone. At the same time, with his greatsword still embedded, he raised his gaze to his foe.
“Now, show me your limit.”
Oukan’s cheek twitched at the words from the enemy perched atop the flat of his blade. He had no choice but to acknowledge it now.
“You are comparable to Geyar Kaliman.”
Geyar Kaliman...
The strongest warrior in the Great Plains’ history, said to have appeared only once.
The warrior—more demon than great—who felled ninety great warriors and ten Kalimans to pass through Amar.
Oukan humbly admitted his foe matched that legend.
And before that admission, Shine smiled faintly.
“I was called that once, yes.”