Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Hero
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Do-yoon swung his sword alone in the training ground after the day's routine ended. The mysterious paths of Buske Style swordsmanship etched invisible strokes into the empty air.
A few days later came the Cradle inspection. There, the most outstanding cadets were scheduled to spar in friendly matches against the instructors. Naturally, this too was the result of outside pressure.
For Do-yoon, it wasn't a bad deal at all. After all, it was thanks to that pressure that he could hold and swing a real sword like this now.
It was a shame he could only practice the Buske Style from before his seventeenth regression. The condition "under instructor supervision" meant the swordsmanship instructor was watching closely from the side. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Skill 'Swordsmanship' has leveled up. Current level: 2] Just being able to train like this was already a huge boon.
'Let's take a look.'
Do-yoon kept swinging without pause, comparing the before and after of the skill level up.
The invisible lines carved into the air grew thinner. The quiver at the sword tip lessened, and the trajectories sharpened into crisp clarity.
The whoosh of slicing air quieted, and the resistance pushing back against the blade eased. Even repeating the exact same forms, a natural edge infused the sword's edge all on its own.
Do-yoon halted his sword. And marveled.
This was his first skill level up, but now he understood why skill levels were seen as a key metric for an apostle's prowess.
"Huu..."
As Do-yoon exhaled, the lingering sharpness scattered into the air. From afar, the swordsmanship instructor shuddered, the fragments of razor keenness raising the hairs on his arms like a chill gust.
'I knew he hadn't shown his full hand in the tournament, but this...'
Even just demonstrating swordsmanship without a real duel, no other cadet could hold a candle to it.
'And he's improving at a ridiculous rate.'
Just moments ago, Do-yoon's swordsmanship had visibly shifted midway. The skill had leveled up right then.
The System sets skill levels to 0 at the moment of the "System's Blessing." So even at the same level, anyone who'd already reached great heights before getting the System would be stronger.
But in practice, that theory rarely mattered.
Almost everyone strong before the System arrived had died in the war... or simply of old age.
Cases where it applied were vanishingly rare, with the Boss Monster Killer standing out as one prime example.
'Hwang Bo-jun and Salamander met untimely ends on the battlefield, sadly...'
But if Do-yoon, unlike them, reached full maturity...
'...'
The instructor trembled in a shiver of dread.
Meanwhile, Do-yoon clicked his tongue at the unsatisfied aftertaste lingering in his grip.
"Tsk..."
Back on Earth, when he couldn't even touch a real blade, it had been fine. But now that he'd tasted this, the craving gnawed deeper.
'I want to channel some sword aura and really cut loose...'
Do-yoon eyed his sword.
A blunt training blade mimicking only weight and shape. Trying sword aura on this would snap it in half instantly.
No sword built to withstand aura existed in the Cradle. Cadets wielding aura? Unheard of.
Borrow the instructor's sword? Beyond rude. Laughable, even.
Every time he gripped a blade, even rarely, the feel of it left him aching with regret.
'A proper sword would be perfect...'
In Enoch's eighteenth run, countless famed blades of the continent had passed through his hands.
His favorite among them had ended lodged in the Demon King's heart—then lost forever when dimensional banishment hit.
'Probably still in the Demon King's castle by now.'
What a waste. The Dwarf King's masterpiece, unrivaled across the continent.
'Might as well call it gone.'
Do-yoon scratched at the hilt with his fingers, mind drifting to alternatives. Something on par with Enoch's beloved blade...
'Buske's collection. That's it.'
The Sword Emperor's sword collection. Famous enough to feature in history class.
A man who'd forsaken all else for the sword's path, he had one quirky hobby: collecting blades.
Thirteen in total—the continent's finest masterpieces.
Yet that collection had never been stolen. The housing "gallery" was skull diamond, absorbing nearly all shocks, auras, and mana.
And the entrance lock? No key, no code. Pure simplicity—openable only by the Sword Emperor and Enoch on the entire continent.
'One of those would be heaven...'
Especially number nine. Do-yoon had coveted it fiercely even as Enoch.
Poor beauties. Locked away a century? Back in the day, I'd sneak in now and then, give them a breath of fresh air...
'...Huh? Hold on.'
The gallery was underground in the Buske family estate... Kingdom of Skeletonia.
'This kingdom's name...?'
Class said Skeletonia, plain as day.
'...Right. This kingdom's hero is that Brütet guy.'
Post-war, where else would Brütet settle? His master's ancestral home, naturally.
The sword collection was far closer than he'd realized.
'Looks like I've got reason to pay him a visit soon.'
Do-yoon had plenty to discuss with Brütet.
How he'd been faring. How far his skills had come. Married yet? Grandkids?
And most of all—how the hell was he still alive?
Do-yoon recalled today's lesson.
'He's the Sword Emperor's direct disciple, right? From a hundred years ago? Is he some long-lived elf type?'
'No, Hero Brütet is human.'
'What? Then how...'
'No one knows.'
'Huh?'
'Literally no one. Not even Brütet himself.'
'...You're kidding.'
'Haha. Absurd, isn't it? For him, even more so. One day he's walking along, bam—a System message about a "long-lived species blessing." Hasn't aged a day in decades since.'
'Uh...'
'Interview quote: he joked, "My late father must be watching over me."'
Do-yoon had thought the exact same.
'What nonsense.'
Maybe Brütet was hiding something.
Do-yoon itched to meet him, catch up, pry that secret loose.
Oh, and snag a sword.
'...He's basically family. Gotta cough up at least one, right?'
Shameless? A bit. But the collection was Brütet's inheritance as the disciple.
Still, Do-yoon had more than gall going for him.
Swords zero, seven, and twelve? Gifts from Enoch to the Sword Emperor.
'And who knows—maybe Brütet's grown enough to crack the gallery lock himself.'
If not? Open it for him, claim one as payment?
Continent's ultimate sword vault. Brütet had to be tearing his hair out watching them gather dust.
'...Shame I won't see him this time.'
This kingdom's hero, Brütet, was skipping the inspection. Some hero from next door instead.
Regrettable, sure—but he'd make do meeting the elf kid, Eloa.
Not a kid anymore, of course.
'When she sees me... if she realizes I'm Enoch. I wonder what her face'll do.'
Revealing himself to Eloa? First tie from a past life as Enoch. Tension coiled tight.
'A century back... she swore she'd marry the hero, bold as brass.'
But time marched on. Elves changed slow, but a hundred years? An eternity even for them.
'Come to think... Eloa must've bawled her eyes out.'
How that little one must've wailed for her hero, begged to bring him back.
'...'
His heart sank.
'...Guild Master, huh.'
Do-yoon had been one too—the very first, coining "guild."
He knew the biggest headache of running a massive outfit.
Money.
'If she still welcomes me with open arms...'
An apology gift for the grief seemed fitting.
'Which vault stashed the gold coins?'
Grand guilds guzzled funds, but Great Hero Enoch's legacy? A fortune beyond measure.
Enoch had been continent-tier rich, vacuuming wealth each loop via foreknowledge.
His hidden troves dotted the land. One alone would bankroll a guild into delirium.
Do-yoon grinned at the thought of the beaming elf kid, sheathing his sword.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The end of week six at the Cradle.
"Open the gates!!"
The inspection procession flung wide the Cradle's doors.