The Believer's Conditions (3)
There were many kinds of swords.
There were the massive greatswords I had used for practice, the claymores wielded by the highlanders of Scotland, mithril swords with high magical resistance, and elf swords that carried the elves’ own special qualities.
If you classified them in detail by size, shape, and traits, there were well over a hundred varieties.
Having spent years working in a hunter equipment factory, I knew most models by heart.
I looked down at the sword with its jet-black blade.
This is a new one.
The old occupational habit slipped out before I realized it, and I muttered, “Is this a Dark Sword type?”
Dark Swords were usually a category of blades associated with demon-type monsters or black magic.
“Hah. Don’t compare it to that crap.”
Na Sang-min snorted.
“Give me that.”
He took the White Revenge I had been using.
“Sharp blade. There’s a visible wave-like trace in the forging, so it looks strong. Good for fighting.”
That was true.
White Revenge almost never lost its edge, and when it mattered, it shone.
“But,” Na Sang-min continued, “this is a demon blade, nothing more. It’s more suited to demonic power than mana.”
He drove White Revenge deep into a torn sandbag.
Then he took up his own sword again.
“You know what this blade was originally called?”
The pitch-black blade caught the light and flashed.
“White Eater Sword.”
A sword that didn’t embrace darkness, but absorbed light instead.
“The White Eater Sword changes color the more it clashes. It can turn red, or bluish, or sometimes even green.”
A sword that changed color as it fought.
I had never heard of one, let alone touched one.
“After using it for over twenty years, it gradually turned gray. And then, at last—”
Na Sang-min gripped the sword with both hands.
“It became the Black Eater Sword.”
He drew in a breath and took on a peculiar stance.
I flinched.
It reminded me of the Gangnam Station multi-gate incident.
Back then, Na Sang-min had shown up dragging a spear across the ground.
There was no way an S-class hunter like him would use cheap gear.
His spear had clearly been an expensive weapon.
Either a master craftsman had made it, or it had been some rare item recovered from a dungeon.
But Na Sang-min had never treated that spear with any care.
He had handled it carelessly, almost with a scowl.
He must have hated it.
He hated what the spear represented.
He hated what it meant that he had abandoned the sword.
Na Sang-min with the Black Eater Sword was different from before.
His face was utterly serious, and there was no wasted motion in the short movement that followed.
It was like looking at a perfectly carved statue.
I still didn’t know much about swords, but even I found myself thinking it was beautiful.
“Watch closely. I’ll only show you once.”
Mana spread from the sword’s spine, and then the entire blade burst into a green flame.
What the hell is that...
I widened my eyes so I wouldn’t miss a single movement.
“Yeomhwa.”
As his body rotated, the wrist holding the sword traced a half-moon through the air.
The Black Eater Sword, stretched out in a straight line, moved so fast it looked as if it were bending like rubber.
Crack!
The training room floor split open.
The green flame struck the wall and caused a massive explosion.
I swallowed hard.
The floor was made of a special concrete material.
It resisted mana and could reflect most impacts.
And he cut through it like tofu.
The green flame that hit the wall was no joke either.
The black soot swallowed everything.
If a monster had taken that head-on—
It might’ve burned to ash without leaving a trace.
Maybe.
If Na Sang-min had really wanted to, he might have put even a Cancel Golem down with a single blow.
And yet, in the end, he still had not used the sword fully.
He had chosen to wield the spear with a handicap on purpose.
“Heh. Still alive, huh?”
Na Sang-min rolled his shoulders, looking satisfied.
“See that? That’s the essence of the Black Eater Sword. Now hurry up and take it.”
As though it were something filthy, Na Sang-min held the sword out to me.
It was a completely different action from his words.
To give away the sword he had spent his whole life with—
It was an incomprehensible situation.
“Why?”
“Why else? I don’t need it anymore. I use a spear now.”
Na Sang-min answered casually.
“Why are you giving this to me?”
Everyone carried their own burdens through life.
But to accept the Black Eater Sword, I felt like I had to know his circumstances first.
“Why did you put the sword down?”
I knocked on the tightly shut door of truth.
Na Sang-min’s playful expression hardened in an instant.
For a long while, he just stared at the ceiling.
“...It’s nothing. I couldn’t swing it at a monster anyway. Or was it that I can’t swing it anymore? Heh.”
There seemed to be a reason behind it after all.
I had heard the broad outline because it had once made a noisy round in the news.
- Na Sang-min kills a hunter during combat with a monster!
It was an incident everyone had heard of.
The story was that Na Sang-min had killed a hunter by accident while putting down a monster.
But it had been an accident.
It had not been anyone’s fault.
When you fought monsters, losing a comrade was as common as breathing.
But the public had been merciless.
- Na Sang-min being Na Sang-min, lol.
- Didn’t he do it on purpose? Trash personality, that bastard.
- Makes sense why he transferred to Dio Guild.
...
Had all the malicious comments worn him down?
No, probably not.
From what I had seen so far, Na Sang-min wasn’t the kind of man who cared about other people’s opinions.
“Anyway. I’m never picking up a sword again.”
His hand, still holding the sword, fell to his side.
The higher a hunter’s rank became, the more attention they drew, until they ended up enjoying celebrity-level popularity.
Na Sang-min had more antis than fans because of his foul personality.
But there was something the public misunderstood.
For all his thorny speech, Na Sang-min was softer than anyone else inside.
If you sincerely asked him for help, he’d yell at you—but in the end, he’d help.
I knew that better than anyone.
After spending so much time training with Na Sang-min, he had even given me the Black Eater Sword as a gift.
Even Na Sang-min, whom everyone called a mad dog, had a warm side to him.
If I had to guess why someone like that had laid down his sword—
It was something to do with a dead comrade.
That was enough.
I decided not to pry any further into a past that clearly hurt him.
“Choi Yongki. You said you wanted to become the strongest hunter, right?”
Na Sang-min looked straight at me.
“There was some bastard who kept saying that from the days he was an F-class hunter, just like you. Said he was going to surpass me, too. Heh. A punk with barely any hair on his chin.”
There was a lonely trace buried in Na Sang-min’s reminiscing smile.
“I’d forgotten. I even told that bastard I’d never be caught, no matter if a hundred or a thousand years passed.”
I didn’t comfort Na Sang-min.
He didn’t cheer me on either.
Instead, like a proper hunter, he said, “Choi Yongki. Let’s make a bet. My spear versus your sword. Let’s see who becomes the strongest.”
“Understood.”
Only then did I take the sword from him.
The moment my hand closed around the hilt, my wrist naturally dipped downward.
Heavy.
“Feels weighty, doesn’t it?”
Na Sang-min pointed at the sword with his chin.
“The Black Eater Sword gets lighter the more mana you pour into it. If it suits the user well enough, mana can even fuse with it.”
I sent mana into the blade as instructed, and an astonishing effect followed.
It’s like a thin branch.
The weight became lighter in real time, until eventually it felt as though the sword and my hand had become one.
“Swing it.”
At his words, I gripped the Black Eater Sword with both hands and drew it up behind my head.
I stepped forward and thrust my arms out.
A single streak of black radiance burst forth and tore the air apart.
Slash.
The sound was sharp enough to seem like it could split space itself.
On top of that—
The Black Eater Sword trembled in my hand as though it were alive.
The sword feels alive.
It resonated with the frequency of the mana, humming softly in reply.
Na Sang-min curved his lips.
“Looks like it likes its new owner.”
He spread his palm.
“My ability turns mana into heat damage. Combined with the Black Eater Sword, it produces that unique flame you just saw.”
Flame swirled in his palm.
“You’ve got some special talent too, don’t you? A punk like you wouldn’t be able to use this kind of power if there wasn’t some catch.”
I had assaulted Na Sang-min during Dio Guild’s admission test and barely passed by stealing a chair.
“There has to be a condition. It wouldn’t make sense to use a broken skill like that without any risk.”
Sharp as ever.
Na Sang-min’s guess was exactly right.
With one exception.
“What’s the cost? Does it drain your life force every time you use it? Or maybe you’ve got some serious disease that shortens your lifespan?”
My cost was money.
[Awakener's Balance]
₩953,594,655
I confirmed the figure floating in the air—more than 950 million won.
“Well, you don’t need to tell me. If I had to give you advice, I’d say save your skills as much as possible. If you use them recklessly, one day you’ll collapse.”
I agreed completely.
Hero powers weren’t infinite.
The more you used them, the more they were consumed.
Na Sang-min pointed at the floor.
It was the place where his strike had gouged the concrete rough.
“Go on. Try it.”
Like a man about to behead a criminal, I lifted the Black Eater Sword with both hands.
Na Sang-min said, “Using the Black Eater Sword properly is tricky. If it were that bastard Lee Ji-jun, he wouldn’t be able to use it. Blood-based abilities don’t harmonize with a sword.”
Combining the hero power I currently had with the Black Eater Sword.
What should I use?
As always, I decided to go with the special move of Super Kid, the hero who first crossed paths with me.
Let’s go.
I poured Judgment of the Superhuman into the blade and brought it down.
Judgment of the Superhuman
At the same instant, one million won was deducted from my Awakener's Balance.
Kagaaaak!!!
A violent gust of wind exploded outward, flinging fragments of concrete into the air.
In my excitement, I lost control and ended up slicing into the ceiling as well.
Grains of sand rained down like falling snow.
That’s incredible power.
In fact, the floor had been gouged much deeper than the one made by Na Sang-min.
“Hm?”
Na Sang-min tilted his head, looking flustered.
“Damn it! Give that back. I was off because it’s been a while.”
Na Sang-min’s competitive streak flared, and he started toward me.
Just then, the training room door opened.
An elderly manager looked around, then shouted with a disgusted face, “Hunter Na! What the hell is this? Why did you turn the training room into this mess?”
And well, it was no wonder.
The sandbags had been ripped apart.
The floor and ceiling were gouged.
And the walls were blackened all over.
The once-pristine room had become a complete disaster.
“Aigoo. What am I supposed to do with this?”
There were rules inside the training room.
First, do not overuse mana abilities.
Second, treat the facility with care.
We had broken both.
Na Sang-min pointed at me.
“Not me. It was him. I’m suddenly hungry. I’m out. Handle it yourselves!”
He bolted like a man fleeing for his life.
For the past two weeks.
I watched the back of Na Sang-min, who had done everything he could for me.
“Hunter Na!”
At my shout, Na Sang-min, who had been running in a panic, looked back.
I fastened the Black Eater Sword at my hip and bowed to him.
“Thank you.”
It was short and plain, but it carried my sincerity.
Na Sang-min flashed a grin, his white teeth bared.
“Do well. Disciple. Don’t embarrass me.”
As always—
“Take the damage out of my salary. It’s not that expensive.”
Na Sang-min turned away, grumbling for no reason at all.
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