〈 Episode 342 〉 Kyle Toven (3)
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Slash! The rain fell.
Slash! I cleaved the black fog spread all around.
Slash! I carved out the flowing black river from the ground.
At the end of my slicing, Kyle arrived before the crashing waves. Beyond that black wave was what Kyle had to cleave.
“……”
Fear. A moment’s hesitation brought on by terror.
But, having firmed his resolve, Kyle leaped toward the waves. As he charged into the massive wave that was going to engulf the world, Kyle inadvertently looked at the ground. The parched earth was scattered with sword marks.
Sword marks of varying shapes and depths.
It was not the skill of a single person.
Countless people had poured their lives into perfecting their sword techniques, and their marks lay etched into the ground. Looking back, the sword marks formed a long path.
The sword marks testified to Kyle’s footsteps.
There was no refuse left on the path Kyle had walked. He had reached this place by cleaving shadows. Kyle turned his head and looked forward again. A gigantic wave reaching the sky. The terror it invoked.
But now, as I am…
‘Now, I can cut through.’
Kyle hurled himself into the wave.
Whooosh!
The rough current swallowed Kyle whole. The moment he entered the wave, Kyle felt his vision darken. It was pitch black. He could see nothing. Yet Kyle was not flustered.
He had no need to open his eyes since he couldn’t see.
Kyle closed his eyes.
In the darkness where nothing was visible and his senses grew faint like an abyss, Kyle did not lose his center.
「Swords are ultimately simple.」
「Stay centered.」
「Feel what you must cut.」
「Swing with all your might, and that’s it.」
The Sword Master, Kuntel.
Recalling his master’s teachings, Kyle found his center. Holding onto that center, he asked himself.
‘What must I cut?’
Everything. All that I feel.
Staying centered, Kyle moved forward. With each step he took, his flesh tore, and blood flowed. The blade-like currents shredded Kyle’s body. But the sword tip in his hand did not waver.
Crack! Crack!
Kyle’s fingers wielding the sword made a loud sound. The oncoming current wrestled against him, yet the blade moved against the crushing flow.
Swish.
Unlike the rough currents, the sword strikes were eerily calm. But just because it was calm didn’t mean that the outcome would be tranquil.
Slash!
The wave ripped apart.
In the tearing waves, Kyle regained his senses. When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing at the center of the wave. Although everything around was tainted black, where he stood was dry land.
The ground was still marked with sword scars.
Kyle, holding his sword, expanded the place where he could step. He swung and swung, cleaving the crashing waves. By cutting through the waves, Kyle advanced.
Flash!
Pure white particles pierced through the waves and reached Kyle.
He knew this was the blessing sent by Sara.
Thanking her, who was invisible, Kyle gradually increased his speed. At some point, Kyle’s movements became faster than the oncoming currents.
Acceleration!
Before the water could rise in the space he had cut, Kyle swung his sword. With each swing of his sword, the gigantic wave that seemed to reach the sky surged.
Whooosh!
In the face of the flooding shadows, a human appeared diminutive.
Injured and bleeding, Kyle held only a sword in his hand, and the starlight he housed felt like a handful of ashes.
Pitiful and shabby.
Yet that light never diminished nor was it concealed. Instead, it shone even brighter. A human’s sword cleaved the waves of disaster. Relentlessly, Kyle cut through all the waves.
Thud.
Kyle took a step forward.
Plop! The refuse that formed the waves poured onto the ground. Standing on the shapeless refuse, Kyle looked ahead.
There, was what he had to cut.
The essence of the Demon Lord.
He faced the embodiment of curse.
2.
The Demon Lord is a being formed by curses.
Numerous lives cursed the heavens and hated those blessed by the stars. They all simply wished to become like themselves.
To fall, to break, to perish.
They sought to pull down the stars.
The shadows took on the most suitable form for such a being.
‘…Clutch.’
A being composed of countless claws.
Before the entity known as the Demon Lord, Kyle swallowed hard. The large and small claws each grasped something.
The collapsed walls of the Celestia Kingdom, the watchtower, homes where no one lived anymore, lightning that threatened to fall from the sky, or perhaps…
‘…themselves.’
Claw upon claw viciously tore at each other.
Bound together as one, yet they clawed at each other with hatred. Their screams echoed into Kyle’s ears.
【■■. ■■■■■■. ■■■■■■■■■■.】
The voice of the false god was a scream.
Kyle frowned as his mind was shaken by the voice. Suddenly, he realized that his vision had turned red. When he slightly lowered his head…
Plop.
Blood was pouring out.
From his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth… blood was gushing out from any breach. Just facing the essence of the Demon Lord caused Kyle’s body to crumble.
His body had already reached its limits.
To arrive at this point, Kyle had pushed himself beyond his limits. It was made possible thanks to Sara’s blessing. However, now that was no longer an option. His body screamed in agony.
‘…Not yet.’
This was when Kyle attempted to catch his breath.
Kyle’s eyes widened in an instant.
He barely jumped sideways, but it was far too late. Though there was ample distance, the giant claw, which had closed the gap in an instant, grabbed Kyle’s leg.
Crack! Crack!
Kyle’s leg broke.
The claw held Kyle tightly and flung him to the ground.
Thud!
The ground split, and a mouthful of blood gushed out of Kyle. Nevertheless, the claw did not release Kyle. It knocked him back into the ground. Countless claws surged towards the trapped Kyle.
“…Cough. Hack.”
Kyle opened his eyes, still upside down.
His one eye was bloodshot.
He swung his sword and severed the claw that gripped his leg. Lacking the ability to execute a proper fall, he tumbled grotesquely to the ground.
The extending claws transformed into fists.
Before the oversized fist aimed at him, Kyle couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh. It was a fist large enough to crush a watchtower. Yet dozens of such fists were extending toward him simultaneously.
How on earth was he supposed to counter this?
How on earth was he supposed to cut this?
He couldn’t even grasp the situation. Still, he had to move, so Kyle kicked off the ground with his broken leg and ran. He dodged, sliced, and struck back. But he couldn’t fend off everything.
Boom!
A claw digging into the ground struck Kyle. He defended with his sword, but the arm holding the sword snapped with a crack. Floating in midair, Kyle rolled for quite a while along the floor.
“…Huff.”
Kyle, staggering with his sword embedded in the ground, stood up. Blood poured from his mouth. His body screamed in agony. The distance to the Demon Lord, which he had thought was close, was now far again.
Far.
So very far.
Yet, it seemed that only Kyle felt this way, for the shadow reached out its arms without regard for distance. Kyle, with blurred vision, saw hundreds of beasts approaching from the sky.
‘…Is this it?’
Is this…
‘Is this the scene you witnessed that day?’
Is this the disaster you faced that day?
Kyle unconsciously took a step back. But the moment he stepped backward, he stopped. The ground he stepped on had split apart.
“…”
The ground, marked with sword scars.
The footprints he had taken to reach this point.
It felt as if it was questioning Kyle. Would you run away again? Would you run away in a pitiful manner yet again?
“…Ha.”
Kyle unintentionally let out a laugh.
Extending the foot he had been about to step back with, Kyle murmured inwardly. No, that can’t be.
Ka-ching!
Kyle swung his sword toward the approaching claw that was upending the ground. As he swung, Kyle thought of the figure of Raniel he had seen here years ago.
‘That guy…’
That damned guy didn’t back down even before that monster. When everyone else was trembling in fear, he stood against the Demon Lord, sacrificing half of his lifespan. He held that massive calamity right here.
That’s right, he didn’t retreat.
Kyle stood firmly like Raniel. Hiding his fear, he brandished his sword. As he swung the blade, he suddenly thought.
Would you be satisfied with this?
It was a question posed by the child version of himself.
Forever admiring and envying Raniel, the young Kyle posed a question to the present Kyle. Would you be satisfied with this? Would you be satisfied with becoming just like Raniel?
Once again, Kyle answered himself.
No, that can’t be.
That day, Raniel stood his ground against the Demon Lord, but now, he must cut the Demon Lord down. Nothing could be achieved by just standing still.
Boom!
With his broken leg, Kyle stepped forward.
He pushed past the apparition of Raniel beside him and advanced. As he moved forward, he swung his sword.
‘I…’
Kyle.
The boy who dreamed of being a hero.
Had always admired Raniel.
To Kyle, a hero always meant Raniel. Even when Kyle was despairing in front of his burned hometown, Raniel lifted him up and led him toward the capital, insisting he would die if he stayed there.
From that moment on, he was always like that.
Walking ahead of Kyle, Raniel showed him the path he must take. He was a guide, the most perfect hero Kyle could imagine.
Not a false hero from a fairy tale.
To Kyle, Raniel was a hero living in reality. Kyle often dreamed that he too might become like that, someday standing a step ahead of Raniel.
At last, in the finale, Kyle recalled that dream.
A light smile formed on Kyle’s lips.
Kyle closed and opened his eyes. His blurry vision sharpened. The path Kyle had walked was filled with severed claws.
Kyle came to a halt.
Before he knew it, he was standing far ahead of Raniel. He stood before the Demon Lord. He had achieved his dream. Musing over it, Kyle took his stance.
A stance to recreate the hero’s final strike.
3.
Boom!
With his broken leg, Kyle struck the ground.
This was the final step. The moment his foot hit the ground, it split with a crack. Stones and dirt erupted into the air.
What soared up was not falling.
No, it appeared as if it wouldn’t fall.
In the time that seemed to slow to a halt at its limit, Kyle recalled the hero’s final strike he had seen over and over in his dreams. The last strike of the first hero, Ganikalt van Galatrick.
It was an incredibly beautiful sword strike.
The domain bound to the extreme of the sword.
One might spend a lifetime trying to reach such a realm.
With one eye seeing reality, Kyle saw his inner self with the eye he had lost that day. A man stood in an endless expanse of wilderness.
He mimicked the man’s stance.
But not completely.
That was Ganikalt’s swordsmanship.
His sword was different from that. Rather than a single sword, it was a multitude of things tied together. Kyle overlayed his own swordsmanship onto that.
The sword path visible in his wide open eyes.
The countless threads of the sword path, branching into hundreds, thousands, millions began to slowly merge. As Kyle’s stance perfected, the forks in the path began to reduce. As the rock that had been lifted slightly moved, all paths converged into one.
A single path.
But that path did not reach the Demon Lord.
It couldn’t cut what it wished to cleave.
This was insufficient. Kyle gathered every last bit of starlight remaining in his body.
「The stars only open the way.」
「In the end, swinging the sword is your task.」
「What you must ultimately believe in is not the stars.」
Only, myself.
After the starlight burned away, what remained was a single human named Kyle Toven. He reflected on his life. He turned back to the path he had walked.
That path was not beautiful.
He did not always walk the right path.
Having made numerous mistakes and fled, it was a path too far removed from that of a hero.
An ugly path, filled with struggles.
But at that moment when he faced it, Kyle couldn’t help but smile.
He had realized how to complete this path that cannot reach the Demon Lord.
‘…Oh.’
So this was the realm you reached.
Kyle grasped his sword tightly. The gathered sword path scattered and then came back together. The forming sword path took on an entirely different aspect than before.
…A knight is one who draws the sword path.
Then, the path he had walked.
The path he was about to walk.
The path over which he would walk throughout his life could also be called the path of the sword.
Wretched, hesitant, regretful, jealous.
Tripping, skewed, giving up.
Yet in the end, moving forward.
It may not be the noble path of a hero, but it still is the path he walked. And the path he was about to walk. All of it, Kyle exchanged for the sword path.
Past, present, and future.
He burned it all and drew a single path.
A pristine path of white appeared in Kyle’s sight.
That path surely reached the Demon Lord.
Since the sword had a path to follow, there was no reason not to swing it. Kyle swung his sword along the path.
Tick tick tick!
The trajectory of the sword began to tear through the void. The stones and dirt that had floated in the air crumbled the moment they touched the sword. The blade cut through everything it met, drawing a perfect line.
Whoosh!
Kyle swung his sword.
Frozen time began to flow again.
A colossal wind surged around Kyle. At the moment he swung his sword, his arm contorted, and blood burst forth.
The tip of the sword did not draw light.
What the blade dragged along was a massive current.
The Demon Lord, which had charged at Kyle with terrifying momentum, suddenly halted. The Demon Lord came to a standstill, unable to advance. In the silence that followed, the sound of tick tick tick could be heard.
Something was parting.
Standing still, swinging his sword, Kyle chuckled. It was the moment his faint laughter echoed.
Swish!
A calm slicing sound echoed.
A delicate line split the world in two. Everything that touched the line was severed. Concepts, common sense, providence, and laws crumbled away.
Slashhhhhhh!
A sword that defied providence.
To cleave the false god, the ultimate sword created by a single knight, Yeocheon.
Now, after centuries, this sword was perfectly reproduced by one human.
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