*
EP.487 Sword of Yeocheon (3)
*
“What do I want to do once I defeat the Demon Lord and end all battles? Hmm, just a second. I’ve got a lot on my mind. Please wait a bit, Cardi.”
Gleria tilted her head while stroking her chin. A grand wedding, a honeymoon, throwing my resignation at the Pope’s face instead of being a saint… Belial, who was listening to her mumbling, forced a smile.
“Unlike Gleria, I think I can say it right away. I’ve got something in mind.”
Belial spoke with his chin resting on his hand.
“I’m thinking of starting an orphanage with the rewards I’ve received. A big one.”
“An orphanage, huh?”
“Yeah, Cardi. These days, there are too many children who have lost their parents. What sin did those young ones commit?”
Belial winced.
“There are too many children who have lost their parents or guardians and have been thrown into the world at such a young age. Kids who should be loved and grow up without a worry… are living with venom in their hearts at such a young age.”
That’s a tough situation, indeed.
As Belial muttered that, he smiled.
“So I’m thinking of starting an orphanage. Big. Really big. To embrace all the children. Oh, and it wouldn’t be bad to occasionally invite you guys to teach the kids.”
“Then how about starting an academy instead?”
“Oh, that’s not a bad idea either.”
Cardi chuckled, listening to Belial’s story.
“That’s a dream that suits you.”
“What about you? What’s your dream, Cardi?”
“Well… I guess it would depend on what Gleria wants.”
Cardi replied with his chin resting on his hand.
Since Cardi’s wish likely wouldn’t differ much from Gleria’s, fulfilling what she wants would likely be his wish too.
“Then.”
Cardi stretched his gaze.
While looking at Ganikalt, who was cleaning his sword in front of the campfire, he asked.
“What about you, Ganikalt?”
“Well, my wish isn’t that grand.”
Ganikalt, who was reluctant to speak, eventually opened his mouth due to his companions’ prodding.
“I’m thinking of training knights while wandering the world, just like my master did in the past. And then…”
Ganikalt looked at his well-polished sword.
“In the end, training a knight who can surpass me. And having a duel with that guy would be my dream.”
Everyone chuckled at those words.
It may be humble, but considering it was said by Ganikalt van Galatrick, the likelihood of that wish being fulfilled seemed immensely low.
“Sounds like a hard-to-achieve dream.”
“If a knight appears who can surpass you, you should seriously doubt whether they’re a knight or just a sword magician.”
“Hey, you can’t just assume they’re a magician. They could be a sword sorcerer.”
Amidst their banter, Ganikalt smirked, laughing softly. Indeed, it was a ridiculously lofty dream, even for himself. A sword magician, a sword sorcerer, that wouldn’t be so bad either. Still, Ganikalt said,
“But you never know.”
Ganikalt stated.
“One day, a bold kid might come up to me, holding a single sword and shouting that he’ll surpass me.”
Kyle Toven swung his sword.
With a swing, he deflected Ganikalt’s blade. Deflecting, countering, twisting, and eating away at the sword’s energy, several strikes exchanged within a single breath.
Kang, kaang, kaaang!
From a distance, Kalt watched the swords flying. He felt like he might lose consciousness at any moment, but he couldn’t look away from that scene. Forgetting even to breathe, Kalt watched their clash.
‘At the end of the path… the knights standing on the edge.’
An achievement that all knights would dream of at least once.
In the long history, there were only two knights who reached that level, swinging their swords toward each other. The swords they wielded were difficult to comprehend, even for Kalt, a fully matured superhuman.
Slicing through space, the swords swung. Creating sweeping afterimages, the swords surged like waves. With a single swing, hundreds of sword marks were created. Unfathomable swords filled that place, and it was not just a showy display.
There was no waste in their movements. Not even a single swing was wasted. Each and every strike was filled with intent to overpower the opponent. A slow sword could receive a rapid strike while a light blow could pierce through a heavy blow.
Common sense didn’t apply here.
It was unbound by natural law.
The space where their swords clashed was a separate world just for them. Watching the frantic swordplay, Kalt couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh. Surely, they were swinging swords to kill each other.
Yet, strangely enough,
Kyle’s breath while wielding his sword was incredibly light. There was not a hint of strain or tension. The same could be said for Ganikalt, both bleeding but appearing unfazed.
Kaaang!
The moment their swords clashed, Kalt squinted his eyes. Using his heightened senses to the maximum, he was watching their swords closely. A bizarre scene captured Kalt’s vision.
Dozens, hundreds of future possibilities that had been divided.
Those possibilities merged into a single path.
Thus, the completed future was invisible to Kalt. With a crunch, his vision shattered and Kalt blinked rapidly. No matter how many times he blinked, he could see nothing. He could no longer grasp their fight even with his acute senses.
Only that future could be seen by those two.
*
As Kyle swung his sword, he sensed something unusual. The blade paths that had branched out before his eyes began to merge into one.
Kaan!
They began to predict each other’s movements.
They read each other’s sword paths.
Instead of their futures biting and canceling each other out… they turned into perfect harmony and began to turn like gears interlocking.
Kang, kaang, kang!
Thus, what unfolded before Kyle was no longer mere prediction but the realm of foresight. A clear future appeared right before Kyle’s eyes. And it wasn’t just Kyle observing that future.
Swish.
Ganikalt felt it as well.
Their swords clashed at an unusual trajectory. When their swords collided, they did not deliberate on what the next strike should be. Trusting the future laid out before them, they swung their swords.
Kaaang!
Judgment, prediction, choices of sword paths.
Now, seeing the completed future, all unnecessary processes were omitted. Because it was omitted, their swords accelerated a bit more.
Dozens of strikes exchanged within a second; what Kyle felt was a sense of unity. It was as if the knight before him had become a part of him. He could tell what kind of strikes this proud knight would show, how he would wield his sword, and what strikes would come next.
The accelerated swords clashed while cutting through time.
Time didn’t flow because a second had passed, but rather because swords collided. If the swords wouldn’t clash, this halted time felt like it could last forever.
Kaaang!
However, neither knight wished for this time to last forever. They simply wished for the outcome to depend on their swords. Ganikalt’s swing pushed Kyle back. Kyle’s swing pushed Ganikalt back.
The swords collided sufficiently.
The weight built by their lives had been more than adequately tasted.
It was now time to put an end to their sword dance. The two who were pushed back exhaled deeply. As they exhaled, they stomped the ground with their elevated legs. Thus, the stances they took were similar yet different. Similar yet aiming for the same goal.
Yeocheon.
The knights of Yeocheon lifted their swords.
In the past, a certain knight posed a question to himself.
What does the sword seek?
What is the ultimate limit that I pursue?
If one were to ask a hundred knights, they’d receive a hundred different answers. At the moment he reached the end of his life, he was able to answer that question. In that moment, he said:
‘A sword exists to cut.’
The sword is…
‘To cut whatever it seeks to cut.’
It exists solely to cut what must be cut. Therefore, it is not bound by shape, weight, or anything else. It doesn’t matter even if part of himself, his eye, or even his body is lost.
That was the answer Ganikalt van Galatrick found.
Galatrick’s No-Form Style.
The No-Form Sword.
By displaying that answer with the single sword he held, Ganikalt posed a question. Kyle Toven, what is the ultimate limit you pursue with your sword?
To you, what is the sword?
To that question, Kyle Toven answered by lifting his sword. The stance looked similar to Ganikalt’s but was inherently different. For Kyle Toven, the sword didn’t just carry one meaning.
‘I longed. I craved. I despised. I reproached.’
He grasped the sword because he admired the First Hero.
He longed to become a perfect hero while holding the sword.
He despised himself for having such a meager vessel.
He reproached himself for his mistakes.
‘To me, the sword was a shackle, a pillar that held me up, and everything that constituted me.’
All his hesitations, regrets, escapes, halting, and mistakes made up his life. Ugly and unsightly, it was the path he had walked. The sword he held crossed that path.
‘To me, the sword is everything.’
My everything. Myself.
At that answer, Ganikalt burst into laughter. A good answer. If that is the answer you found, then why not show it to me? Let’s pit our answers against each other.
The futures visible to the two of them shattered.
They could no longer grasp each other’s sword paths.
Yet it didn’t matter. The path of which to swing their swords was clearly visible. They took their stances. Gripping their swords tightly, they stomped their feet.
The ground cracked. Stones erupted.
Dust rose, being sucked into the center. The air shook, and the space creaked.
Tick, tidididididik.
In the frozen moment, the two swords moved. Every time the swords moved, things shattered. The paths described by the swords split the air diagonally. The swinging swords became the axis around which the scenery was rearranged.
Two axes, two swords, two paths.
The axes interlocked. The swords clashed. The paths overlapped.
Scrape.
The swords of Yeocheon collided.
