Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Prologue
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A knight in a realm of awe-inspiring prowess beyond the reach of ordinary talent.
Berddin.
He had ascended to the pinnacle at a young age with skills unmatched by any other.
Even the emperor bestowed upon him the glorious title of Sword King.
At nine, he graduated from the academy.
At fourteen, he stepped onto the battlefield.
At twenty, he single-handedly reduced a monster legion to ashes.
This was a unique record no one had ever achieved before.
'That's right...'
Invincible under heaven.
Those words were made for him.
Back then, Berddin believed he had reached the realm of the gods.
No one could defeat him.
Neither monsters nor adventurers.
And so, he grew increasingly arrogant.
He showed no respect to anyone he met. Respect was just a dictionary term to him.
He was that strong. Strong enough for everyone to acknowledge it.
[Who could possibly surpass this absolute, mighty Sword God, 'Berddin'?]
Questions like that flooded conversations among adventurers.
There is no one stronger than me.
Not in the past. Not in the future.
Berddin lived with that conviction.
But the time he thought would never come found him.
He believed he could never lose to anyone.
'Damn it...'
[Lord of Disaster, Red Dragon.]
Slash after slash, stab after stab, yet it wouldn't fall.
'If I could just take down this one last monster, I would claim the title of the strongest being on earth.'
Simply slashing away wasn't enough to win.
Is a dragon truly beyond human power?
Well, one of them has the strength to destroy the world, so coming here alone makes me the madman.
'...Damn it all!'
Splat!
The Red Dragon's massive, razor-sharp claw pierced through Berddin's chest. With a guttural urk!, he was flung back and crashed to the ground.
A groan escaped him from the searing pain.
Cough—
Blood surged from his mouth.
His clothes and the ground had long been soaked red.
He had lost.
A complete defeat.
It was far too strong.
Stronger than anyone he had ever faced.
The Red Dragon fixed its black eyes, devoid of whites, on Berddin.
"Grrrrowl—"
Its gaze was chilling, incomparable to any forest beast. Berddin felt goosebumps erupt across his entire body.
'I have to run.'
A powerful urge surged in his mind, but his body wouldn't move.
For the first time in his life, he was struck by the shock of defeat.
Fear of an unbeatable foe. Misery at his own powerlessness. Hatred boiled within him like a raging typhoon.
"Haa."
Even exerting all his strength yielded only shallow breaths.
His body was a wreck. Limbs unresponsive. He'd lost so much blood his mind was growing hazy.
He lacked even the power to lift his head.
Sleep pressed down on him. His eyes closed on their own.
'Hoo.'
As time passed and his thoughts cleared, Berddin accepted his defeat.
With that, calm returned. The battle's outcome was decided. I lost today.
That fact wouldn't change.
So how could he defeat the dragon?
Even with defeat staring him in the face, Berddin yearned for victory. The answer came quickly.
'Right.'
The reason he lost to the dragon today wasn't because he was human. He lost simply because he was too weak.
If he had been stronger, the victor of this fight would be different.
This wasn't human versus dragon. It was Berddin versus the Red Dragon.
White breath escaped his lips with each exhale, drifting like mist.
Berddin let out a few hollow chuckles, then pressed the back of his hand to his forehead.
'...Damn it.'
I want to grow stronger.
Truly stronger.
Madly strong.
Stronger than now. Beyond human limits. Strong enough to fell a dragon. To reach the divine realm!
Berddin was a man worthy of being called the incarnation of the battlefield. Even facing death, he craved even greater power.
In his final moments, he prayed.
If gods truly existed, grant him one more chance to fight.
Next time, he would be strong enough to slay that dragon.
Without fail.
—Roarrr!
The Red Dragon prepared its final strike.
Red flames swirled in its maw.
And poured down over Berddin's head.
BOOM!
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Dragon Slayer
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A dream? A miracle?
Or perhaps a god's prank.
I couldn't help but be stunned when I opened my eyes again.
I had clearly been incinerated by the Red Dragon's flames.
"Waa?"
I was alive.
And in the body of a newborn infant, no less.
'What the hell is this?'
Berddin couldn't comprehend it.
Why was he in this form?
But after half a day, he realized where he was.
His face twisted in disbelief as he let out a sigh.
'No way? This place is...'
A room where walls, floors, and every object gleamed white.
In this all-too-familiar space, babies competed to cry the loudest.
And among them, one baby scowled fiercely.
The youngest son of the continent's premier swordsmanship family, the Strange Family—a monstrous prodigy of unparalleled talent.
'Berddin de Strange.'
The place where I, who would later be called the Sword King, was born.
My brief but powerful cry echoed through the room.
"Waa!"
'No matter how I look at it, this is the Strange Family manor where I lived!'
I quickly scanned my surroundings, then furrowed my brow deeply.
"Waa, waa."
'No, that's not the issue. What the hell happened? Why am I here?'
My mind and mouth weren't syncing.
No matter what I tried to say, only "waa" came out. I twitched my lips, clenched my tiny fists, then sighed and turned my head away.
'Haa...'
Rebirth was fine, in a way.
I didn't know how, but I was alive now.
But as a baby.
"Waa!"
'Fuck!'
My cry just moments ago had been a scream of frustration.
The nanny, misinterpreting it, checked my diaper and shoved a bottle into my mouth.
'I'm not hungry, so take it away!' I tried to shout, pushing at the bottle.
But...
"Waa!"
Only "waa" emerged again.
The clueless nanny just smiled brightly and patted my head.
"Oh dear, our little Young Master Berddin, why are you so fussy?"
It's not fussiness—I'm not hungry.
"Your eyes and nose look just like the Family Head's."
Shut up! Being compared to Father is the last thing I want to hear, especially since it's the first time anyone's said it.
"Thick eyebrows, high nose, cherry lips. What a handsome little fellow..."
She was spouting nonsense without a care. If she knew I understood, she'd faint on the spot.
For the reborn Berddin, infancy was utter torment.
He hated his one-year-older siblings wailing loud enough to rupture eardrums. And the humiliating routine of bottles forced into his mouth and diapers changed.
A normal baby wouldn't think twice. But for Berddin, who had lived over twenty years, it was pure humiliation.
The man once called Sword King, reduced to crying for food and fresh diapers from a nanny.
'Hoo...'
For a while, I denied my rebirth.
Only after days turned into a week did I accept reality.
This place I stood was no dream.
For whatever reason, a chance to grow even stronger had come.
* * *
The continent's foremost swordsmanship dynasty.
Children of the Strange Family receive their lifelong Guardian Spirits at age five.
Not just direct descendants—even collaterals gather at the main house for the ritual. Over a hundred kids each year make it a rowdy affair.
'Time flies.'
I had regretted this day in my past life.
I ended up with what I thought was the most useless Guardian Spirit.
Siegfried, wielder of the famed sword Balmus, said to have beheaded a dragon.
Back then, I believed supreme swordsmanship solved everything.
So I chose the Guardian Spirit called Sword God. Everyone blessed me, calling me the next Family Head.
A scion of a sword family with the Sword God as Guardian—who could ask for better?
But it became both my strength and weakness.
Siegfried wanted me to follow his path as Sword God. I sought skills beyond swordplay.
Our talks dwindled until we cut ties completely.
'No helping it.'
By fifteen, I had surpassed Siegfried's swordsmanship.
To grow stronger, I needed other paths.
And in the year of war against mages, I learned slashing alone couldn't conquer the continent.
So I resented Siegfried. Another Guardian might have taught me special arts.
'All I learned was how to wield a sword.'
I was so furious I yelled at my ancestor, "Useless bastard!"
Thus, Guardian Spirit Siegfried left. Insulting his master—what nerve!
'I should have held onto him then.'
After earning the Sword King title, I realized the vast gap between us.
Siegfried wasn't just skilled with swords—he calculated and mastered every possibility through the blade, reaching a divine realm that could cleave the ineffable.
In the end, Sword King me lost to the dragon; Sword God Siegfried won.
'...Exactly.'
That's why I'm here now. The path to the divine realm opens soon.
Creeeak—
The training hall doors swung open.
Figures in white armor covering even their faces entered, capes billowing, splitting to either side.
They formed ranks. Knights' shouts echoed from afar.
"Hail the Family Head!"
At the corridor's end appeared a blond middle-aged man with a finely groomed beard. All bowed, swallowing hard. Some nannies fainted from his presence.
Clack, clack, clack.
His shoes echoed.
A halo glowed behind the Family Head.
The era's strongest swordsman, lord of the Strange Family.
'Roys de Strange.'
"...Prepare."
His heavy voice, like the earth itself, filled the hall.
—Yes!
The knights responded in unison, their voices booming through the castle.
Women in pristine white dresses entered, carrying urns of varied shapes, lining them up.
So many that half the vast hall—able to hold over a thousand—was filled.
The urns stood at proper intervals, each unique.
Behind them, five-year-old Strange children poised to dash.
To survive the harsh world ahead, one needed a good Guardian Spirit.
Parents knew this and prepared their kids to claim the best.
Rush first.
Pick the flashiest urn.
I had been taught the same and chose the grandest in my past life.
That held the coveted Siegfried.
Shooo—
Time passed; misty Guardian Spirits emerged from the urns.
A burly knight with a massive flail. A gaunt man dual-wielding swords. An old man with a staff, flushed from spicy drink.
And among them, a red-armored man with arms crossed, relaxed.
'...Siegfried.'
"Begin."
Roys de Strange said quietly.
The guard at the entrance nodded and beat the drum with all his might.
BOOM!
The children surged toward the urns.
Desperate for the best Guardian, faces contorted in effort.
As all scrambled, I alone stood still, watching.
Then,
Smoothly,
I picked up the nearest urn.
And hurled it!
Toward the urn sealing Siegfried.
"...You'll be with me again this time."
Dragon Slayer, Siegfried.
Crash!