〈 Chapter 293 〉 The Prophecy Points to Death (5)
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Garder, Kalt.
This man, who has been recognized for stopping disasters three times, has reached the position of the Hound’s leader, and is also a Sword Master.
Sword Master.
Those who can read the Sword Flow and possess precognition and extrasensory perception based on provided information. Although still inexperienced, Kalt is undoubtedly a Sword Master.
There’s no way he can’t read the Sword Flow wielded by an amateur. There’s no way he can’t predict the outcome created by swinging a sword.
That should be the case.
It absolutely should be… but an unexpected outcome occurred. Kalt stared wide-eyed at Lac.
“… What was that?”
The sword this boy wielded struck the tree right in front of him. Calling it a swing with a sword is an understatement; it was more akin to chopping wood with an axe.
That strike left its mark on the tree trunk before his eyes.
The imprint left in the wood serves as evidence. A small mark for wielding a blade of the finest quality. However, at the same time, that mark is also present on a tree far away.
“…”
Kalt silently glanced at the tree in the distance.
A tree uprooted, shattered into pieces.
Walking towards it, Kalt examined the mark left on the trunk. It’s identical. It’s as if it was struck by an axe, leaving a long trace behind.
A little larger and clearer.
Kalt scratched his chin.
It’s something that defies common sense. He struck a tree right in front of him, yet the tree far away suddenly falls? Moreover, the trees in the path remain unscathed.
However, it’s also hard to dismiss as mere coincidence.
“Lac, did you use magic?”
“Uh? No, I didn’t.”
Rania, standing beside him, was equally bewildered.
There’s no magical interference, yet this is nearly a magical phenomenon. Rania clicked her tongue and called out to Kalt.
“Kalt.”
“… Yes, Senpai.”
“What’s going on here? Is it possible to do something like this with a sword?”
“If this were possible, Sword Masters would have been called Sword Sorcerers instead.”
Kalt let out a hollow laugh, as if it were absurd.
“Hey, Lac.”
Kalt handed the sword back to Lac.
“Try it again. I’ll be watching closely this time.”
Lac blinked in surprise before gripping the sword again.
Rania, beside him, offered advice. He should swing the sword with all his might, as best he could.
“Well then…”
Lac lightly tapped his chest.
In that instant, a sizz sound emerged as heat radiated from Lac’s body. It was now the manifestation of the heating spell, a physical enhancement spell he could now perfectly control.
“Whoa…”
Kalt, watching, couldn’t help but admire briefly.
Kalt knew that heating spell. Furthermore, he understood how difficult it was to manage.
This boy handles it with such skill. Something that seasoned warriors, who have fought on the battlefield for decades, cannot achieve, yet a boy who hasn’t even undergone adulthood does.
He barely had time to be amazed.
C crack, Lac gripped the hilt tightly. Veins popped on his forearms as he swung the sword with both hands.
Whoosh!
The sword traced a silvery-white arc.
Kalt’s eyes widened as he took in the entire scene. Then, he drew the same conclusion as before.
‘His body is complete. His strength exceeds imagination. But, he lacks sword talent.’
He has no talent for wielding a sword.
It’s certain. The stance for swinging the sword, his breathing, the path traced by the tip of the sword — everything indicates that this boy has no talent for the sword. Trying to correct it won’t work, nor is it necessary.
That boy has already turned his weapon into an axe.
When wielding an axe with that immense strength and agility, the destructive power in every strike cannot be ignored. He simply lacks talent for the sword.
Just as Kalt was trying to reassure himself once again.
Thump, boom.
Lac’s heart raced.
The blood pooling in his heart surged rapidly through his body, and something within the blood urged Lac into action. The erratic path traced by the sword began to take on a more aggressive quality.
Like a beast’s claw.
As the beast’s claw made contact with the tree trunk, thud, the air distorted. It was as if space itself was torn apart. Mass rushed in to fill the torn space, creating a momentary vacuum.
WHAM!
The swirling mass violently raked through the area. The tree that met the sword cracked loudly, splintering apart.
Boom.
Then the tree fell.
What remained on the fallen tree was not the trace of a sword swing. It looked as though a colossal beast had trampled it.
“…”
Silence ensued.
Kalt could not comprehend this bizarre phenomenon. He had not predicted it. Rania was equally perplexed. However, Rania had seen something similar before.
‘This…’
Rania muttered blankly.
“This is something Ganikalt used to do.”
Ganikalt van Galatrick.
As the First Sword Saint, the sword he swung could even slice through space. With every swing, space was torn, and to fill the rift, mass would rush in, creating a temporary vacuum.
Of course, compared to Lac, the scale is different. The power is unlike anything else. Ganikalt could collapse canyons and shatter the final wall with a single blow.
‘Moreover, Ganikalt’s strikes weren’t this reckless. They seemed more refined…’
Ganikalt’s blade drew a perfect line.
In comparison, Lac’s was jagged and distorted.
However, at their core, they are the same.
Rania and Kalt stared wide-eyed at Lac, seemingly waiting for an explanation regarding the swing he just demonstrated.
“… Uh?”
And Lac was…
“Uh, um…”
Alternating between looking at his own hands that wielded the sword and the blade lying sprawled before him. It was as if his body moved on its own.
“Pro, professor.”
Lac pointed to the tree before him.
“W-What is this?”
This was also the question on Rania and Kalt’s lips.
2.
After several more experiments, the initial event didn’t repeat itself, but occasionally, after dozens of swings, strange occurrences happened. Trees in the distance would warp, or spaces nearby would sink, though it occurred with low probability.
“I really have no idea.”
Kalt sighed, rubbing his face.
“The posture is a mess. It’s not the way someone swings a sword. That’s an axe-wielding posture, and if he were swinging an axe, it would have been perfect.”
But, but…
Muttering to himself, Kalt expressed his frustration.
“The results achieved from that are things I cannot do. Even if Kuntel comes back, he would shake his head saying, ‘Ah, that’s something else.’”
It was maddening.
Wielding a sword and causing space to tear? It doesn’t just slice, it literally tears apart. As if he had swung an axe.
“I wielded a sword, and the outcome resembles chopping with an axe. Does that make any sense?”
“Doesn’t it?”
“This is exactly why sorcerers…!”
Kalt thumped his chest in exasperation.
“It’s the same as when a senior tossed a fireball, yet the one hit turned to ice!”
“What nonsense. How is that even possible?”
“That’s exactly what this situation is…!”
Kalt turned sharply to look at Lac.
“When did this start? Why did you choose an axe instead of a sword? Could it be that you are also a superhuman?”
“Uh? No.”
Lac blinked rapidly.
“I had held a sword while following warriors when I was younger, but nothing like this happened back then. I had used a sword relatively recently as well, but…”
It also didn’t happen then.
If he had to think of a trigger, there seemed to be only one.
“Since the trial of the Holy Grail, my heart has been racing a lot. Back when I swung the sword earlier, my heart suddenly started pounding…”
His body moved on its own.
Lac testified like that. In fact, the moment he gripped the sword, his heart thumped a little louder. As if the blood flowing through him was reacting to something.
“Lac.”
Listening intently to Lac, Rania opened her mouth. She brushed her lips thoughtfully and said.
“From all I’ve seen, your ancestor seems a bit unusual, right? Not in a bad sense, just… Anyway.”
“… Huh? Are you referring to Grace?”
“Yeah. We might need to investigate a little.”
Muttering that, Rania turned her gaze.
She pointedly looked at Kalt.
“Kalt.”
“Why do you call me, like you’re about to assign me a task?”
“You know it.”
Rania said with a bright smile.
“Gather all records related to the founder of the Grace family.”
“… From which era?”
“Several centuries ago? Early founding?”
“… Early founding would mean there’s barely any documentation left, and I’d probably have to rummage through forbidden books haphazardly to find anything.”
“Of course.”
“Still?”
“Still.”
Kalt laughed.
After several nights of work, the shadows beneath his eyes were pronounced, and he rubbed them as he smiled brightly.
“Can’t I just quit?”
3.
Kalt spread out the materials he had gathered.
Lac laid out the related legends he obtained from the Duke of the North, and I began verifying them one by one.
“Belnoa continued the lineage of Sorcery.”
The Sorcery of the Shadow Dragon.
In the past, it was Belnoa who inherited the lineage of the sorcery once wielded by the sorcerer Belial. The will of Belial, steeped in the sorcery system, was something he had prepared for the future.
That fact was conveyed to me by Cardi.
So, what about Lac?
Ganikalt van Galatrick appeared during Lac’s trial. There must be some correlation between the two, but all I knew was that the figure of Grace was Ganikalt’s pupil.
“Grace.”
Kalt laid out the organized data.
Grace, who unified the North at the early founding period several centuries ago, discovered the White Night Castle and became the lord of the North.
“Grace was a Sword Master, but there are few anecdotes left regarding how he handled the sword.”
That’s a fact.
In the legends sent by the Duke of the North, the way he handled that sword was astonishing. It was bizarre. Those were the only stories that remained.
The tales surrounding the figure of Grace were all of that sort. A character whose true intentions are unknown. An odd character who enjoyed eccentricities, often leaving the throne to go on journeys elsewhere.
As I delved deeper into the records.
Eventually, I also stumbled upon the final whereabouts of Grace. This coincided with anecdotes about the first prophet from centuries past.
‘The First Prophet.’
There was still debate about whether she was indeed a prophet or merely a fraud… nonetheless, there was a story linked to her.
“The First Prophet prophesied that the Death’s Blade would appear in the Kennel Snowfield in the North. Grace trusted the prophet’s words.”
No one believed that statement.
However, Grace believed it, and on that day, he headed to the Kennel Snowfield. It is said that he drew his sword before warriors for the first time…
“… A massive greatsword with a hole in it.”
I had an inkling.
I finished reading the text.
“Since then, Grace vanished.”
The information Kalt had gathered ended there.
However, the legends received from the North had some additional tales. I turned to view the supplementary stories.
“On a deep night with a full moon, a loud roar echoed several times through the Kennel Snowfield. No warrior dared approach, but those who watched from afar say they were filled with fear and spoke like this.”
There,
“Death was present.”
“Grace fought against Death.”
“And ultimately, while he suffered defeat, he also achieved victory. Grace managed to repel the death that had come to the North.”
It is said that death was there.
And throughout centuries of history encapsulating death always pointed to one being.
“The Death’s Blade, Ganikalt.”
The reason there are differing opinions regarding whether the First Prophet was a fraud or not is precisely this. If the Death’s Blade truly appeared in the North, historians argue it wouldn’t have remained intact as it is today.
No matter how much of a Sword Master he was, a figure like Grace couldn’t possibly stand alone against the Death’s Blade.
Thus, historians claim this anecdote was distorted in the process of sanctifying Grace’s disappearance or death in the North.
“The Prophet, the Death’s Blade, and Grace.”
As I mumbled those three keywords, bang, someone burst through the door. I squinted as I looked at the person entering.
An unexpected figure.
A person who should not be here stands there.
“You.”
With pale pink hair and green eyes.
Saint Sara.
My damn former colleague, now someone who should be on the battlefield, approached me with the sound of her heels echoing. She stepped forward and halted in front of me, her drooping eyes emerging through her flowing hair.
“What do you want?”
“I have something to say.”
“I have nothing to say. Get out now—”
“Raniel.”
I narrowed my eyes.
How did she know? Did she figure it out then? Just as I was about to lash out, I froze at Sara’s next action.
She knelt before me.
For the first time, she bowed her head in front of me.
“I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t keep up with the situation.
As I blinked, doubting my ears, Sara pressed her forehead against the ground.
“I apologize. I was wrong all along. I’ve been wrong, so I’ll do whatever you ask. Just please, grant me one request.”
She begged me.
“Don’t go to the North.”
Kneeling down, lowering her head, she implored.
“Please don’t confront the Death’s Blade.”
At that moment.
The communication magic tool, the letter connected to the Knights Order Leader, and the magic tool shared with Kalt, all began to ring loudly.
“Please, don’t go.”
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