# 040 Moonlight Sword
# 040 Moonlight Sword
What was the easiest way to teach someone the sword?
First, you showed them directly.
No matter how much you drilled them in vertical and horizontal cuts, no matter how many swordsmanship manuals you made them study from, you were not to simply hand someone a sword with no foundation whatsoever and tell them to figure it out by swinging.
One who trained only the basics knew only the basics—and died on the battlefield.
One who learned only theory could not apply theory in real combat—and died to the unexpected.
And one who recklessly swung a sword to pick up a practical combat style was highly likely to ingrain what they called the mercenary's method into their hands.
There might be those who had reached the pinnacle through killing techniques alone, but most swordsmen inevitably trained their bodies in a style they could still execute even if they lost their memories.
Therefore, swordsmanship with a set form had to be taught.
Fundamentals were important, theory was important, and practical experience was important.
But what Sharia needed most right now was a demonstration.
I had already shown Sharia the sword technique called Seven Swords, but Seven Swords was merely the ultimate realm she would one day reach.
Seven Swords—if she could imbue each individual sword with a specific sword form, if the Seven Swords could each manifest a distinct technique, she could grow even stronger.
The stage of learning that was precisely now.
One problem.
Sharia had a weakness: her breasts.
She had trained diligently to overcome her breasts, but she still could not shut out her awareness of them entirely.
In bed, they boasted a destructive power more vicious than any weapon, but during a fight, they could hardly be called helpful.
She wasn't about to slap someone across the face with her breasts, after all.
That being the case, she had to fight so that her breasts swayed as little as possible, and to minimize the sway, she had to reduce her body's movement.
Hence, the Moonlight Sword.
I decided to show Sharia the Moonlight Sword.
"To aid your understanding, I have polymorphed into your form. I ask your pardon."
"At times like this, it really hits me that you are a dragon, Master...."
"Surely the strongest dragon can at least borrow an outward appearance."
I had polymorphed into a form similar to Sharia's.
To help her understand, I wore the exact same training clothes as Sharia, and I gripped the sword while personally experiencing Sharia's weight.
"Worry not. I have perfectly reproduced not only the weight of your breasts but also the jiggling."
"Master, I have a question. Is, um, down there also the same as mine?"
"What? Where? Here?"
I pointed to my groin area, and Sharia nodded stiffly.
"No."
"......Master?"
"Just so we're clear, do not think that because I transformed into your body, I intend to use your body carelessly."
"No, what I meant was... that part isn't changed?"
"Ah, so that's what you meant."
I took off the shorts I was wearing underneath.
"Eeek?!"
"Ta-da. There's nothing there."
"P-pull them back up!"
"Why so startled when nothing's sticking out and nothing's tucked in."
It was simply a bare hill with nothing at all—just like a mannequin or a golem doll.
A groin smoother than the abdomen, without even the hint of a mound or a hatchet-wound mark.
Sharia practically had a fit, so I put my pants back on.
"Phew. You startled me. But, Master, your, uh... your pe-nis... where did it go?"
"I hid it with magic."
If I were in a male body, that would be one thing, but there was no need to attach a penis when transforming into a female form.
On rare, exceeeedingly rare occasions, there were women with that particular taste, but except when dealing with them, I simply erased the shape altogether.
"It'd look unsightly if the appearance were female but that area were bulky, wouldn't it."
"That is true."
"Lucky for me. In the past, someone actually welcomed it, saying 'on the contrary, I like it.'"
"Who?"
Abruptly, Sharia's voice dropped low.
Judging by her eyes and her tone, it seemed she thought every story I told was about a former girlfriend or past woman I had been involved with—and she was getting jealous.
...It was true, so I couldn't exactly lie.
The person who had said that was a woman I had held long ago.
"She exists. Though she's dead now."
"Ah...."
The invincible shield.
The death shield.
"I see. Well then...."
If the person were alive, that would be one thing, but Sharia did not dwell much on those who were already dead.
Although the person in question, without revealing herself, was giggling behind Sharia's back and playing pranks on her.
"Then let's put the idle chatter aside and get to the point, shall we. Sharia. From now on, I will show you the Moonlight Sword. Before I begin, let me say one thing: everything I show you now is both swordsmanship and, at the same time, a martial art."
Srak.
I assumed the most fundamental stance of the Moonlight Sword.
"Sharia, what stance am I taking right now?"
"You are preparing to draw the sword from its scabbard."
"Correct. I am still in a sheathed state."
One foot forward.
The other foot back.
My hand gripped the sword.
My upper body leaned forward.
It was a battō stance, familiar to those who wielded a do—that is, a blade.
"One thing I'll tell you in advance: the Moonlight Sword has no connection to the Twin Moon Goddesses. This is a sword drawn in the image of the moon itself."
"The image of the moon?"
"Yes. I will demonstrate it quickly, so watch with your eyes first."
From the initial stance, I swiftly swung the sword.
First, one strong thrust forward.
Then, as if flicking the blade, I flipped it once in my hand, pulled my body back, and cut diagonally.
I spun my body halfway around while swinging the sword, then swung it upward again from below.
Then came one broad motion.
The sword sequence ended with a full turn in place as I swung the blade.
"How was it?"
"......I don't know."
"What?"
"I don't really get it. Didn't you just swing your sword around?"
"That's...."
She seemed to have no interest whatsoever in the progression from Moonless to Full Moon.
"I'll grant you that your breasts didn't sway, to a certain extent, but that's probably because you're the one doing it, Master."
"That's not it, Sharia. This is a swordsmanship that deflects strong external impacts through flow."
"Really?"
"Yes. If this became known to the world, every master would come flocking, raising a racket to learn it, you know?"
"...Isn't that dangerous?"
Sharia pointed at my sword with a tense face.
"If I take your sword technique to the tournament, we can't have my identity exposed by accident."
"It's fine. You see, this is an unknown sword technique."
"Huh?"
"There are truly many techniques unknown to the world. Well... there will be those who know the fundamentals of swordsmanship and take an interest in you, but when that happens, you just say what we've roughly prepared in the plan."
I lightly pointed at Sharia's neck, and Sharia grimaced as she hung her head.
"Ugh...."
"What? Are you afraid?"
"No, not afraid, it's just, um, I suppose it's a little embarrassing...."
"It's merely a performance. And you're the one who chose this."
"...Yes, I understand. I will follow your will, Master. No...."
Sharia continued speaking, her expression tense.
"...Master."
"That's right. Fufufu."
Master.
I had heard the title countless times as a dragon, but hearing it like this felt strangely new.
"Then it seems your Master must personally demonstrate the sword technique."
Clap, clap.
"Arvata, bring out the golems."
"How strong should the ones I prepare be?"
"The strongest ones—they can be repaired even if they break."
"If that's the case... will the usual ones suffice?"
"Of course."
They would suffice, and then some.
It wasn't as if I would lose to them anyway, and golems were the most ideal opponents for showcasing the elegance and smoothness of a sword technique.
"Sharia. Once you master the Moonlight Sword, you will be capable of facing foes two stages above your current level of swordsmanship. I won't guarantee a high chance of victory, but you'll be able to take a fight to a stronger opponent with even odds. How tremendous would that be?"
"What happens if I become stronger?"
"You become an existence that no one can meddle with easily."
"Ready!"
Thud, thud, thud.
The golems approached.
Calling them golems was a bit off, for all of them had humanoid forms.
"Wh-what are those...?"
"Automata that Arvata made. Mechanical dolls, so to speak. The things dwelling inside are ghosts."
"Gh-ghosts...?"
"Yes."
They were not ordinary ghosts, either.
They were the elites of the old castle, whom I had packed into a rifle vessel and brought here—each one of them possessing Master-level swordsmanship.
"Are you ready?"
Clank.
As the doll at the very front raised its sword like a knight, the other dolls also raised their swords like knights.
'Jin intends to go all out.'
At present, the dolls' bodies were inhabited by Banshee Maids.
Rather than occasionally manifesting physically through mana, there were also times like this when they possessed mechanical dolls that Arvata had made and moved their bodies through them.
"Then, come at me."
I immediately drew my sword.
The first incoming attack was....
'From the front.'
Claaang!
The doll recoiled backward sharply from my horizontally swung blade.
Ordinarily, I would have pursued and driven my sword into the doll's chest here, but right now, showing Sharia my swordsmanship was the objective.
Tap.
After lightly pressing the tip of the sword against the doll's solar plexus—just enough to touch it—I turned my body halfway around and blocked an attack coming from elsewhere.
The trajectory was like moonlight itself.
"Cut them down."
Gently.
"Full Moon."
With the sword, I blocked everything.
"Wow...."
Sharia was entranced by the sword aura, the swordsmanship, the trajectory of the blade.
"Sharia, watch closely."
The Moonlight Sword was the ultimate defensive sword technique.
A self-defense art predicated on the opponent attacking first—a technique for protecting oneself.
"When this sword technique is taken to the extreme...."
Boing.
"The breasts hardly sway at all."
"...That's the effect?"
"Yes. You'd best get used to the stares, you know? Everyone will look at you with lecherous eyes."
"Well, that's...."
"It won't be the ordinary sort. They'll look at you with the sleaziest of eyes."
To put it concretely....
"Your enemies will try to strip your clothes off."
With their swords.
* * *
At that very hour.
While the Festival of Swords of the Sword Demon God was in the midst of preparation, the Sword Demon God's priests were working ceaselessly to organize the participants' documents and prepare the preliminaries.
"Ugh, there's too many again this year...."
"Split them into groups. They submitted that thing where they wrote down their approximate skill level, right? Let's use that to check."
How could there be so many people willing to participate in a battle of the sword-mad, where no resentment was permitted even if they killed one another?
As the priests lamented and sorted through the materials, they discovered one puzzling document.
"What's this?"
"It's a woman."
"Surprising. A woman, and... ugh."
The priest furrowed his brow and clicked his tongue at the application.
"I don't know what demonkin she is, but she's got a seriously nasty disposition."
"Why?"
"She's a slave."
"A slave...?"
"Yeah."
Sniffling, the priest skimmed through the application of a woman named Ria.
"Some perverted demonkin sent his slave out as a swordsman. Sheesh, there's always one of these bastards every time."
"Why? Something up?"
"Hey, isn't this a place where anything goes if you win with the sword?"
The priest shook his head.
"This is obviously someone planning to stick her in bikini armor and enter her."
Shake, shake.
"Ah, jeez. Perverted bastard."
Participation approved.