Get Out of My Sword Rack!
The back alley reeked of the gutter. I was born in that slum, where a festering sewer wound its way between shanties, to parents whose faces I never knew. I couldn't even remember how I'd survived past infancy in a place where dying at any moment would have surprised no one. All I had were memories—of stealing coins from strangers' pockets to keep myself alive one day at a time, and of the day I tried to pick the purse of a nobleman called the Sword Emperor and nearly died for it.
The cold edge of steel resting against my throat is something I could never forget. One more inch forward with my head, and a sliver of flesh would have come away with it. Anyone else would have stumbled backward, or buckled at the knees and collapsed right there—but I was different. Having already made peace with death long ago, I simply stared the man straight in the eye.
"I can't tell if you're a fool or just brave, but I'll grant you this much: you've got spirit."
"Great. Then I'll sell you my spirit. Pay up."
"Ho! Well, look at this brazen little wretch."
"You said you'd rate it highly. So rate it."
"Ha! You truly are the sort to leave a man speechless. Fine—you declared you'd sell, so I can hardly back out of the bargain now. Follow me. Your spirit isn't something that can be bought with money."
"Then I don't need it."
"Save your breath and come along. It's worth more than gold, I promise you that."
Worth more than gold—those words conjured visions of treasure chests overflowing with silver and jewels, and so I trailed after the Sword Emperor full of hope. There was no treasure waiting for me, of course. All he tossed me was a single wooden training sword.
I grumbled plenty at first, but in time I came to understand what value money couldn't buy. And with good reason—becoming the Sword Emperor's disciple was not something just anyone could do.
"When I first laid eyes on you, I sensed a spark of talent and decided to test it. I never dreamed you'd turn out to be such a monster..."
"Is it proper to call your one and only disciple a monster?"
"If I were wrong, I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place."
Training relentlessly under my master, I came to realize I possessed an innate genius for the sword. My talent was so extraordinary that the Sword Emperor called me a monster; by the mere age of fifteen, I could already manifest sword aura—the realm of a Sword Master. It was an achievement without precedent in history, and it startled even my master.
Not long after, I left his side and set out to wander the world, determined to learn just how far my talent would carry me.
"Knight Aledrong, humbly requests instruction from the disciple of the Sword Emperor."
"Very well. I'll teach you a lesson—for a fee. Leave your sword behind and get lost."
"You insufferable—!"
The reputation of being the Sword Emperor's disciple drew challengers from far and wide, and I crushed every last one of them with sheer skill. My unbeaten record grew by the day, and by the time I turned twenty, I had earned the title of Sword God. That new title only summoned stronger challengers still.
And with each victory, I collected the swords of the defeated as proof. Most of them I converted into coin—the blades were either cheap and shabby, or good enough to look at but not valuable enough to bother keeping. Even so, there were exactly five occasions when I held a sword back instead of selling it, choosing to wield it myself.
The first was Aleyna, the Holy Sword of a Hero hailed as humanity's hope against the Demon King.
"You're the Sword God from those rumors, aren't you?"
"What of it?"
"I am the Hero, chosen by the Holy Kingdom and the Holy Sword! Become my companion, and let us strike down the Demon King together!"
"...No thanks."
"At least hear me out! Slaying the Demon King would be the greatest glory a man could ever—"
"Spare me. Let's settle this cleanly with a duel. If I lose, I'll serve under you and do every last thing you command. But if I win, hand over that sword."
"You'd wager the Holy Sword on a duel?"
"Then choke on your fear and die for all I care."
I fought the Hero, and he took the bait hook, line, and sinker. To be fair, the man they called humanity's hope was strong. But a greenhorn who charged in trusting nothing but his Holy Sword was never going to beat me.
The Hero's shocking defeat. The theft of the Holy Sword. The Kinel Holy Kingdom immediately dispatched its paladins, warning me to return the blade at once.
"Would any of you hand it over in my place?"
It was legitimate spoils, won fair and square in a duel, so I raised my middle finger in reply. The paladins attempted to subdue me by force, and I cut every one of them down. And thus I became a wanted criminal of the Holy Kingdom.
The second was Scáthach, the Dragon Demon Sword of the Dragonewt Great General—a warlord of the Demon Realm where the Demon King himself dwelled.
"I'll acknowledge the audacity of a lone man standing before me. But this is where your journey ends!"
"For a damned lizard, you've got a long tongue."
The demonic blade, forged from dragon scales and bone and blood, wielded terrifying power. But once I identified the flaw—a lack of true swordsmanship behind its strength—I ground him down piece by piece. After a long and brutal clash, the Dragon Demon Sword so beloved by the Dragonewt Great General came into my hands.
At the same time, I was officially designated a public enemy of the demon race.
The third was Hibana, a cursed katana belonging to a famed swordsman of the continent known as the Eastern Kingdom. The Holy Kingdom's and the Demon Realm's pursuit was closing in, so I crossed over to the Eastern lands. There I crossed paths with a swordsman called the Kengo, and we clashed. Even his blade was no ordinary weapon, and the man himself was first-rate. In a fight that blurred the line between duel and deathmatch, I severed his throat by the narrowest of margins and claimed the victory. Only later did I learn that his katana was a cursed blade steeped in a vendetta of blood. But when I took it in hand and swung it myself, I felt nothing harmful whatsoever—so I kept it.
The fourth was Eclipse, a pair of twin daggers wielded by the head of the Creed Assassin Guild, a killer rumored to never leave a target alive. The name Eclipse came from the way the two daggers traced arcs in the air like the sun and the moon. It was certainly dazzling enough to please the eye, but the gap between my level and the guild master's was vast, and I won without effort. After facing so many powerful enemies and growing far stronger for it, the Holy Kingdom's hired assassin was nothing more than a mild diversion. In any case, I liked Eclipse personally, and so I decided to keep them rather than sell.
The last, the fifth, was different from the rest—not spoils wrested from a worthy foe in battle, but Grishras, an ancient greatsword driven majestically into the ground of the Land of the End, at what people called the world's edge. By another name it was the Greatsword of Gluttony, infamous for devouring the strength of every living thing that touched it. No one had ever managed to draw it; they'd only had their power drained away. I pulled it out with ease.
I couldn't tell you why. I simply burned with the resolve to try, and the blade slid free without resistance. The Greatsword of Gluttony wore a vicious, monstrous appearance that matched its name—and I found that charming enough to carry it on my back.
And so, armed with five different kinds of swords, I roamed every corner of the world, challenging the strong with flawless blades and sharpening my skills day after day. Through relentless effort, I eventually reached a realm where I could hear the will of the swords themselves.
At first, I was overjoyed. I could finally commune with the beloved blades I had cherished and cared for all this time. But I quickly learned that the ability was closer to a curse.
"Rian! You felled the Hero, so take up the Hero's duty!"
"Forget that—come hunt a dragon with us! Hm? Hm?!"
"Master, my curse can only be undone with more blood. So let's start a war, shall we? With your strength and mine, toppling a nation would be simplicity itself."
"Oppa! Play with Icle more! Plaaay with meee!"
"Comparing our overall usage, my sister and I are utilized at a drastically lower frequency. Might I ask you to wield us more often, you pitiful Orabeoni?"
"Your... power... can I eat it...?"
My cherished swords were driving me out of my mind with their nonsense. The Holy Sword nagged me at every turn to slay the Demon King in the Hero's stead. The Dragon Demon Sword wailed day and night about killing dragons, even after I told her outright she was no dragon-slaying blade. The cursed katana whispered seductively of indiscriminate slaughter, claiming she needed more blood. The twin daggers whined about wanting to be used more, while the Greatsword of Gluttony asked, without fail, whether she could eat my power yet.
"I'm losing my mind...!"
Not a single day passed without them shoving their demands down my throat. In the beginning I gritted my teeth and endured, but their ceaseless, pointless chatter had me well on my way to a proper breakdown. Unable to bear it any longer, I resolved to make one great decision—and I trained desperately to see it through.
"When, precisely, do you intend to go defeat the Demon King?"
"Master, did you know? They say dragon meat is packed with nutrients and incredibly delicious!"
"If you'd rather not become a scourge wandering the world, might I suggest quietly burning down a village or two?"
"Oppa does nothing but train all day... You stingy old miser, you never play with Icle and Lips..."
"Haa...! Do you hear my sister's grumbling? Sometimes you must play along as if you've lost the argument, you foolish Orabeoni."
"Power... no eating?"
Just before my mind shattered entirely, I drove my body to its absolute limits—and there I attained the realm of Sword Unity, a state known only in legend, where the sword becomes my body and my body becomes the sword. In other words, even without a blade in hand, I could wield my own body like a sword and manifest sword aura all the same.
Having finally achieved my goal through all that hardship, I lined my swords up in a row with a beaming smile.
"I have a crucial announcement to make, and every one of you needs to hear it!"
"Have you finally decided to fulfill the Hero's duty?"
"We're going to hunt dragons, yes?"
"So long as you fight with me, Master, I shall be content with whatever it may be."
"Yaaay! Oppa's gonna play with Icle!"
"Hasty judgment, sister. Knowing this worthless Orabeoni, he is far more likely to raise our hopes like this and then leave us to rot."
"Finally...! So I can eat...!"
Each of them was already swollen with expectation. In moments like this, they almost seemed cute.
Almost. Only in moments like this.
"I'm selling every last one of you."
Get out of my sword rack. All of you. Now.
