Loving the Sword
During the time he'd holed up in the Great Library, Kyle had spotted Gladiheim's knight trainees several times, but he'd never exchanged more than a greeting with any of them.
The reason was simple. Kyle was always glued to his desk, buried in books, and even the trainees granted access to the library were rushing through on tight schedules, frantically scouring the shelves.
But this time was different. The three who had come with Lucia stared at him with eyes sparkling from curiosity and interest.
"Do you have something to say to me?"
As a pureblood Alastor, he could speak casually to trainees, but Kyle started with polite speech out of courtesy. It felt rude to drop the formalities with strangers.
"Please, feel free to speak casually to us."
One of the trainees bowed in a fluster. Only then did Kyle nod.
"Alright then. What's up?"
"W-We heard a lot about you from Lucia."
The short-haired girl stammered. Heard what? Kyle tilted his head and glanced at Lucia, who puffed out her chest proudly.
"I've told them many times just how amazing you are, Kyle."
"What'd I do?"
"Bruno improved not just his training scores after your guidance, but his reputation among the trainees too. And hasn't my sword grown even sharper thanks to your help?"
"Maybe Bruno, but what'd I do for your sword? Yours is sharp because of the elders' teachings and your own talent."
"I gained a lot from our repeated spars too."
Lucia insisted stubbornly. Technically, she wasn't wrong. After losing to Kyle six years ago, she'd thrown herself into the sword with even greater fervor. Back when sparring partners were scarce, their repeated bouts had helped her immensely.
Especially since Lucia strongly felt that Kyle's swordsmanship was unbelievably masterful. As he'd said, she was learning from the Sword Tower elders.
It was only natural that the elders' skills were exceptional—they'd devoted over half a century to the blade. Yet Kyle's sword was just as formidable, rivaling theirs. Lucia couldn't yet put that greatness into words, but her talent let her sense the same overwhelming wall when facing the elders... now in Kyle too.
"If you're not too busy, could you recommend some sword techniques for my peers?"
"Hm."
Kyle pondered briefly. There was librarian Nellia, but she only located books—she didn't recommend ones suited to individual physiques or styles. Without knowing what swords or techniques the trainees had mastered, she had no choice.
"Sure. Let's head to the practice room first."
He'd become a Gladiheim knight someday anyway, so building rapport with trainees early wasn't a bad idea. Besides, these were the elite after Lucia in rankings—he was curious about their level.
Following Kyle's lead, Lucia and the trainees headed to the Great Library's practice room. There, Kyle drew wooden swords he'd brought and faced each one by one.
He didn't unleash the same overwhelming pressure as with Bruno. That would make it impossible even to see the sword. The trainees hesitated at first to swing at him, but Lucia's prodding got them moving eventually.
"N-No way..."
They'd heard their ears ring from Lucia's tales of the pureblood young master's genius, but clashing blades made it feel understated. No matter where they looked for openings, swinging revealed none existed. And no matter how solidly they defended, it crumbled.
The three 14-year-old trainees—ranked 2nd through 4th—could only drop their swords in utter defeat. Would aura have changed it? Even that, they couldn't be sure, and their eyes wavered.
"Hm."
Kyle stroked his chin thoughtfully. Their skills were solid. Purely on swordsmanship, they matched or slightly exceeded last year's Bruno.
"Up to what grade techniques are you cleared for?"
"4th grade."
In the past year, Kyle had devoured 3rd-grade cultivation manuals to refine his Mixed Origin Technique, spending spare time on 4th-grade sword manuals. He hadn't read them all—the library's collection was vast—but he could pick fitting ones for trainees.
Kyle promptly left the practice room, pulled three sword manuals from the 4th-grade shelves, and handed them over. The trainees accepted with bright faces, no hint of doubt.
Their library time was limited. Without prior visits, they had no pre-selected manuals, and combing vast shelves in that window was a huge waste.
Getting recommendations from Kyle? They bowed gratefully.
"How much have you been hyping me up?"
Still, these proud elites accepting and diving into manuals from someone they just met was odd. Kyle glanced back at Lucia, who trailed behind instead of joining them.
"I only said what I saw and experienced."
"Feels like they trust you, not me."
"That's true too. I'm stronger than all three of them."
Lucia replied confidently. Ignoring the shelves, she followed Kyle, then sat across from him as he settled at a desk with a cultivation manual.
"No books for you?"
"I have my own sword techniques to train."
"Then why come here?"
"I was curious what you do in the library."
Lucia fixed her red eyes on him intently. Kyle chuckled at the gaze and showed her the covers of his books—all cultivation manuals. She blinked.
"Not just sword manuals, then."
"I read those too. More cultivation ones, though."
"Wouldn't sword manuals be more useful?"
"They help, but they leave me thirsty too. Gotta start here."
Lucia tilted her head at the answer. As a demon hybrid, she didn't awaken a spirit root like humans. She'd instinctively handled mana since birth.
Cultivation manuals weren't useless—they taught efficient mana control. She just wasn't bound by spirit roots.
That made Kyle's obsession with them even harder to grasp. The humans she'd seen didn't act like that.
"I figured you'd gained sword enlightenment from all those manuals."
"Enlightenment doesn't always come from books."
"Then where?"
"Swinging the sword."
Kyle flipped a page, adding,
"While loving it."
Love... love. Lucia blinked more. She struggled with the word.
Lucia had no memories before age five. Her earliest: wrapped in red cloth, barefoot on the northern coast below the Blade Mountains.
After trudging the beach, the Aurora Knights found her and brought her to Gladiheim. She met Aurora Captain Katarina, then Julius arrived at news of a demon hybrid—and granted her provisional residence in Gladiheim's lower levels.
She took interest in the "sword" because everyone below held one. Skill earned respect. At five, she instinctively grasped that, approached training soldiers, and begged for a sword.
Her unique demon hybrid birth, boldly asking? Curiosity won; they lent her a wooden one.
After that, she gained Sword Tower residence. Elders taught her personally. Her first grip on a sword wasn't from love. Just to earn respect, escape discrimination and hostility as a hybrid, and be loved.
"..."
She wouldn't deny her innate sword talent—that was one reason she swung it. Did I come to love it because I'm gifted? Hard to say straight.
She still didn't love the sword. To her, it was a means to acceptance and recognition. Her dream of knighthood? An extension—to join the elite Elegy Knights, beyond scorn as a hybrid.
"Loving the sword must be tough for you."
Kyle grinned.
"You don't have to. The sword already loves you. But what comes must go—love it back as much as it loves you."
"I don't really know what love is."
Lucia pondered, then answered. Arms crossed, serious face—like a teen wrestling life's puzzles.
"If you don't know love, learn as you go. Easy. Before swinging, tell the sword you love it. Say it before bed, upon waking."
"Do you?"
"Me? No need. I already love it, and it loves me."
"A sword's just a blade in the end. You're the one swinging it, right?"
"Exactly. So loving the sword means loving the you who swings it."
Even more baffling to Lucia.
"If that's hard, stand before a mirror, sword in hand, and say you love it."
Kyle had nothing more for her. Swordsmanship? Flawless. Elders taught well, but her drive fueled ascent. Pointing flaws? She'd challenge to spar first, patching them herself.
She'd become a strong swordmaster as-is. Self-love? She'd find it loving herself and the sword—not something he could force. Frustrating now, maybe, but loved this much by the sword? Thirst would come.
"..."
Lucia fell silent, arms crossed in thought. Kyle focused on his manual.
Truth was, he wasn't fit to guide either.
This year, obsessed with cultivation manuals to perfect Mixed Origin Technique—no end in sight.
Can't ask anyone...
He knew swords well. But spirit roots, circuits, mana operation? Gaps galore. Built on his unique talents, hard to query Julius or Nellia.
Refining by trial, but hitting limits.
Not stagnant, though. Based on Self-Lightning Sky Cannon, blended others. Yorm in mid-dantian core grew from finger-sized. Lower dantian mana surged.
He was sure: No 3rd-grade manual beat this unfinished one's accumulation. Using chaos spirit root beyond single elements? Expected.
Unsatisfying. Reincarnated, born elite in elite house—crave peaks past life missed.
Deep in reading, Kyle looked up. Time flew; Lucia gone.
Four notes on her seat: She'd left first; trainees thanked for recommendations. He smirked, pocketed them.
Routine said return to mansion, but lingering today. Wandered shelves more, then back to practice room.
To test today's gains in Mixed Origin. Push harder than operation. Fainting at mansion? Arian's wrath. Better here.
"Yorm."
Yes, Master.
Yorm emerged from mid-dantian, now forearm-thick, no longer purple—swirled in rainbow lights, eyes gleaming at Kyle.
Not just bigger; mentally matured. No stammers, childish speech.
Mealtime already?
Voice mature-ish. Kyle petted Yorm's eager head.
"Food later. If I collapse, fetch Nellia outside. Got it?"
Got it.
Yorm nodded. Kyle sat on the floor, focused on Mixed Origin. Yorm returned to mid-dantian unbidden, prepping mana refinement.
Woooong...!
Room mana flowed into Kyle. Pushing harder, influx massive, circuits raging. He endured body-wide pain, concentrating.
Body trembled wildly. Internal torrent threatened to burst him. Mind guided Mixed Origin to prevent. Awakened roots signaled hunger to lower dantian; mid-dantian mana cascaded like falls.
Vast hole devoured. Year-expanded lower dantian insatiable as jaws. More, more. Influx shook him violently.
Expected so far. Like past life—cruder, harder.
Master, is this right?
Mid-dantian Yorm cried out. Influx unprecedented. Refining full-tilt, but anxiety surged. Instinct screamed: this wrecks human flesh.
Don't know.
Voice calm amid agony, circuit torrent. Circuits vast, but he craved beyond. Circuit-bound operation limited. Vast, but segmented. Rather than optimize paths, fuse into intuitive shortest.
Success? Leaps ahead. Accelerating—
"What kind of brute is this?"
Tsking voice. Before eyes opened, hand on back.
Who?
Unheard voice. Touching during operation? Perilous.
But instinct: safe. Whoosh...! Pain eased; cool energy seeped.
Torrent calmed, flow steady. Unknown energy guided mana naturally.
One cycle. Kyle snapped eyes open, whirled.
Stranger behind.
Person...?
"Who are you?"
Kyle asked first.