Fake and Real
Fake and real. Hearing him babble on like that, at first Yun-seok figured the guy was just treating him like some replicated knockoff. But then came the speech patterns and the glint in his eyes. And gazing at his sword, Yun-seok realized it was something else entirely.
Whoooosh!
Slash!
Not fake, but real. Something beyond the skills and stats imposed by the System. That something was contained within this man's sword. It was still hard to pin down exactly what it was... but if he kept digging, time would reveal it, just like always.
"......"
Come to think of it, the man had said it himself. That his body had never possessed mana to begin with. That he'd overcome it without yielding. That the truth held here as well. Yun-seok didn't take those words lightly; he repeated them to himself over and over. It felt like the answer lay hidden there somewhere.
Something's off no matter how I look at it...?
Sehelanbard. Murim. Killian. They all used qi—just called it by different names like mana, internal energy, aura, or Force. They wielded it to cast magic, manifest superpowers, and perform martial arts defying scientific explanation. But in worlds like that, could someone without mana truly survive as a swordsman? No, absolutely not. Yet the man didn't come across as bluffing either.
...The answer must lie in his Unique Skill.
Unique Skills were deeply tied to a challenger's talents, life, and experiences. A former mage would get magic-related abilities; an assassin, something stealthy. And this opponent's Unique Skill was Ascetic. A ridiculous power that sealed away all skills and authorities.
With a cheat like that, there has to be a handicap. So is the lack of mana the penalty?
No limbs? Blind and deaf? Even the frailty of old age— the moment you became a challenger, base stats normalized everything. But no mana? That pointed straight to a Unique Skill penalty.
Slipping...
Unable to seize the advantage, Yun-seok struggled to parry and riposte while observing his opponent's sword. And he noticed one more thing.
The man's sword wasn't shattering Yun-seok's sword energy. It merely dissolved like spring snow before contact, creating the illusion.
"......"
Now he was starting to get it. What Ascetic really was. The kind of life this man had lived. Why he'd called Yun-seok a fake upon seeing him.
* * *
Mana Eater. A congenital ability that nullified all supernatural powers composed of qi upon contact. But it came with a fatal flaw: the user couldn't wield mana themselves.
Thus, throughout history, these rare individuals—few enough to count on one hand—mostly ended up as arrows shields for nobles or kings.
But Ravan Vargas was different.
"There is a man I must kill, no matter what."
He took up the sword for revenge. And honed his body to the extreme.
"Mana Eaters can't be swordsmen? Bullshit."
If his foes couldn't use auras either, weren't they on equal footing? They were human too. A sword to the heart would kill them just the same.
Of course, it was the naive stubbornness of one who knew one truth but not the full picture.
Thwack!
In a dingy tavern in some backwater town, a C-rank mercenary's fist sent him flying. That's when reality hit.
Mana Eater blocked auras, but not body reinforcement fueled by mana. No amount of training mattered. The bloated, beer-guzzling mercenary's punch was several times faster than his sword.
One day, lost in despair and wandering...
"What vexes you so?"
Ravan met his master. A once-renowned swordsman now crippled, unable to use mana... In a way, just like him.
Or so he'd thought. Until the man cleaved steel in two with a wooden sword devoid of even a speck of mana.
Slash!
"True principle resides not in mana, but in the sword. How about it? This should give the world a proper shock, no?"
"......"
"Abandon your revenge, and I'll teach you the sword."
Ravan forsook his revenge. And learned his master's sword.
A blade that directly denied a world that exalted mana above all.
Like the "something" he'd fiercely craved since birth as a Mana Eater.
"If you don't want to die in one stroke, move faster. Can't? Don't make me laugh. The world's a shitty place, but 'can't' doesn't exist. You just can't do it yet."
Under his master's harsh tutelage, Ravan endured grueling ascetic training. He cast out doubts and worldly attachments from his heart. And slowly, his sword began to change.
His will became principle. When he willed it, his sword became wind, fire, or lightning. Without mana, his body moved with the agility of body reinforcement.
"Now, at least, you won't die in some gutter."
In his forties, with hair turned fully white, Ravan left his aged master behind and stepped into the world.
A chaotic age reeking of blood everywhere he went.
"A Mana Eater?"
"How can a half-baked wretch wield such power...!"
Amid it all, Ravan toppled countless powerhouses. He even clashed with the continent's strongest, matching him evenly though he couldn't claim victory. It filled the void he'd carried his whole life.
Only then did Ravan realize what he truly sought to prove in this chaotic world.
"......"
The world was wrong, not him. You could achieve anything without mana, yet everyone was deluded by fakes, blind to the essence.
The Tower of Heaven has chosen you.
Ascetic Rank F - Mana is sealed. Middle Dantian opens.
If he could reach the end, would that be proof?
* * *
Heaven Breaking Divine Art was there, but he couldn't gain the edge with mana-based techniques. His sword energy vanished before contact.
Body reinforcement via mana was possible, but it meant little. He'd still been pushed back even with it.
His base stats can't be that high... So something's replacing mana?
He didn't know. But ultimately, technique would decide the fight. Like medieval knights' duels.
Strike first, thrust true—the one who took the opponent's life won.
But...
Damn.
Regrettably, the superior technician wasn't Yun-seok, but his foe.
Whoooosh!
Clumsy, for sure. Solid fundamentals, but that was it? Normally, Yun-seok's swordsmanship would crush such a blade.
Yet...
Why?
Strong. Devoid of mana, yet fierce winds rose, raw power to sunder the world infused naturally.
Whoooosh!
Of course, the Heavenly Demon had once stirred tsunamis with a single sword, sans mana. But that was fundamentally different. Not mere sword enlightenment...
This man's sword contained something.
Probably what he called the 'real'.
Yun-seok wanted to know its nature. So even as he desperately moved, he peered endlessly. Into the stark black-and-white world etched with tension lines. At his opponent's silent sword thrusts.
"......?"
Then, a strange incongruity hit him. That sword, seemingly devoid of mana... something enveloped it.
...What the hell is that?
Invisible even to his way of seeing. Yet Yun-seok had no doubt it existed. Instinct had faintly recognized it, sharpening its outline.
...Definitely not mana.
Something indefinable, fused seamlessly with the world like air. A new internal energy derived from a Unique Skill, like Dragon Soaring Qi? He couldn't be sure, but it felt familiar.
A sensation as if he'd unconsciously felt it countless times, long ago.
When? Where?
No memory surfaced. But...
Whoosh!
As the opponent's sword shot like lightning once more, he grasped its origin.
Normal mana circulated from the lower dantian at the navel. But this energy originated from the heart—the middle dantian.
Coincidence? No chance.
A smile crept across Yun-seok's lips. Middle Dantian. A clue to the mystery that had shrouded it for so long, from an unexpected source.
Now, time to verify.
"......"
Yun-seok immediately introspected his body. Veins pulsing, muscles twitching—all visualized like a anatomical model in his mind. A personal trick honed from daily meditation.
He focused on the middle dantian.
"......"
The empty space brimmed with mana converted by Heaven Breaking Divine Art. And as always, it refused to budge.
But that was the trap. The middle dantian was worlds apart from the lower.
The middle dantian was never meant for mana.
Mana had merely filled the void and taken root, leading to the misconception.
It wasn't for storing mana. It was closer to great nature itself.
Natural qi. A repository to accumulate and convert it into tangible power.
One question arose.
How do you use natural qi?
He sensed its presence clearly. But that wasn't enough. It remained locked in the middle dantian.
Fundamentally different from mana, so the handling differed too.
Not hopeless, though. The perfect textbook stood before him.
Whoooosh!
Whoosh!
Watch and mimic—he'd figure it out. How to wield the middle dantian's natural qi.
"......"
Yun-seok ceased mana use. Overflowing mana still aided his body naturally, but he suppressed even that.
To steal and learn his opponent's way, he needed similar conditions.
Bam!
Slash!
Whoooosh!
Without body reinforcement, parrying grew arduous... but leveraging Yang's Art to judge two, three times in split seconds, he reacted to the sword. Judgment Sword's indestructibility let him barely hold.
Unknowingly, he slipped into a trance.
And from that moment, Ravan Vargas's expression shifted.
"...You bastard."
He noticed. His opponent was mimicking him.
Normally, he'd scoff. Even after his master's teachings, it had taken ages. Becoming real demanded unshakable faith above all.
A guy who'd lived chasing fakes, now claiming to grasp the essence? Absurd.
Yet...
Whoooosh!
System stats, skills, mana... A sword brimming with falsehoods transformed truer with every instant.
Hard to accept. Not mere envy of superior talent.
Clinging to fakes while aspiring to real?
"...You think that's possible?"
Even if heaven allowed it, he wouldn't.
Ravan leaped back, widening the gap. He lowered his sword slightly.
No more dragging this out.
"I'll end it in one stroke."
His master's legacy: the essence and secret technique of the sword. A true strike piercing any foe.
—Give it a name?
—Master, this is truly remarkable swordsmanship. For wretches like us, it's power beyond compare!
—Hmm...
After deliberation, his master named it.
—The heart that lets man live and breathe. The hard-won will and faith harbored there. A sword drawing from that source.
Thus... Heart Sword.
—Yes, perfect.
In Yun-seok's eyes, a massive, hazy form descended upon the arena. Not from the heavens, but one swordsman's heart.