The sword was originally not a cursed blade.
Although it was said to be possessed by an evil spirit, it wasn’t truly haunted.
In reality, it was more like a manifestation of a mindset.
However, in the past, a certain genius wizard had a brilliant idea and realized it through his spells.
“Isn’t there a way to pass down abilities to descendants?”
He pondered and thought about it. His genius idea soon led to its realization.
However, while his magical talent was exceptional, his understanding of humans was severely lacking.
The spirit bound to the sword existed solely for the purpose of imparting a single teaching.
As a result, every person who tried to learn from it ended up bleeding from their ears.
It was not a proper way to pass on knowledge.
After this failure, the wizard developed a thod to pass on the skills of swordsn or warriors—skills that involve physical techniques.
“I will make swordsmanship be passed down through generations.”
Thus, the cursed sword known as ‘Tutor’ was created.
“Dolph, wasn’t it? It seems like you really hated your descendants.”
Luagarne said, slapping her cheek with her tongue in a gesture of frustration.
The cursed sword ‘Tutor’, though it bordered on necromancy, did not drink blood or turn its wielder into a berserker.
What happens when you imprison a human spirit in a sword?
The wizard did not understand humans. He knew nothing about them. He sacrificed a person’s mind and soul.
Thus, the ‘Tutor’ contained a soul with only one purpose.
Regardless of whether the learner died or bled from their ears, it focused solely on its task.
To learn a single technique, one had to cross the mountain of death dozens of tis.
Only by surpassing the opponent with the sa swordsmanship would the soul trapped in ‘Tutor’ disappear.
The treasure being referred to here is probably…
“Swordsmanship.”
Luagarne blinked one eye.
“It’s a matter of obtaining the swordsmanship, but while the body might not die, the mind may not withstand the death. So, it’s better to find another way to open the veil rather than dealing with that sword.”
Luagarne said, and Encrid, after briefly glancing at the sword, turned his gaze back to Luagarne and asked.
“So, you’re saying one must learn swordsmanship even at the risk of death?”
“Yes, it’s an absurd thing. What human could possibly do that?”
Luagarne’s tongue slapped her cheek again. Was this similar to a human clicking their tongue?
“Ah, damn, my mistake. I apologize.”
Krais lowered his head.
“Heh, this is maddening. We can survive for over two weeks with our remaining food, but can’t we dig a tunnel up or down?”
Finn said. She was frustrated, but as a ranger, she imdiately thought of alternative strategies.
And Esther was asleep, lying on her stomach.
Is she really sleepy in this situation?
Encrid looked around at everyone, thinking.
‘So, we just need to learn swordsmanship at the risk of death?’
“Hey, um, that sounds like a scam.”
He felt like a ferryman would mumble that to him in a dream.
Honestly, compared to being poisoned to death while surrounded by a group of knolls…
‘Isn’t this easy?’
Encrid frowned. Could this really be true?
It seed almost too easy, when had things in life ever been so simple?
Probably not.
Just learn swordsmanship?
No way.
“Is there a chance of another trap?”
“Well, if there were any loops, I could probably handle it.”
Luagarne said, showing her smooth palm.
Encrid, after contemplating if that was truly all, finally said.
“I’ll do it.”
“Enduring death multiple tis is not an easy task. Do you want to show you how it feels?”
Luagarne was angry. The human mind erodes easily. Yes, Encrid is an extraordinary person who pushes forward without backing down.
Suddenly, his skills improved, and glimpses of sothing unimaginable beca apparent.
However, for mortals, death is the worst experience in any form.
To endure it would require an incredible amount of cultivation, sothing most wouldn’t even attempt.
“Nine out of ten priests who serve the God of patience and hardship failed.”
That was the nature of the sword ‘Tutor’.
Now, there are only a few such swords left across the continent.
And yet, here was one.
For collectors, this would be a highly sought-after item, one worth pouring out gold to acquire.
‘To think that this trap involves such an item.’
It seed the veil would not open unless handled by a truly skilled wizard.
Though Luagarne was not deeply knowledgeable about magic, she knew enough.
She tried striking the veil with a whip, but as expected, it didn’t even leave a scratch.
It was clearly a frustrating situation.
“Let try again.”
In the midst of this, Krais once again grasped the sword.
“They keep chasing, like berserkers.”
He released the sword as quickly as he had grabbed it. Holding and releasing it was no big deal.
That was the essence of the cursed sword ‘Tutor’.
‘If you let go of the sword, you can return.’
You can give up at any ti if you wish. Giving up is easy. However, the curse tied to the sword ‘Tutor’ would never be lifted.
Crossing the ridge of death would be impossible unless one had a peculiar disposition to feel exhilaration upon dying.
Of course, Encrid himself was not such a masochist.
‘It doesn’t seem that hard.’
He couldn’t help but think this way. After all, hadn’t he been through similar things before?
He wondered if another barrier would appear, perhaps causing the ferryman to show up again, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
“Damn, I really thought this was as simple as picking up a fairy tale by the roadside.”
Krais, who sotis beca clueless when faced with Krona, expressed his frustration repeatedly.
“Should we ration our food to last as long as possible? Won’t the veil thin out over ti?”
Finn suggested a practical approach, worrying about the future.
“This is an unexpected turn.”
Even Luagarne expressed her frustration.
Scratching her head.
Encrid remained calm.
He calmly grasped the sword again.
“Enki!”
Luagarne raised her voice, which was uncharacteristic, but that was the end of it. Soon, he was back in the mire.
It was the second ti.
As soon as Encrid stepped onto the muddy ground and perceived his surroundings, he imdiately swung his sword.
Bang!
He struck horizontally, pushing the opponent’s blade away.
The opponent’s sword, which seed to retreat, twisted and stabbed at his side.
Encrid quickly reacted, swinging his sword downward.
Clang.
A clear sound rang out as the blades clashed.
Whoooosh.
Wind blew from sowhere, and the mist cleared.
A figure with a blue fla in its tal head and partial plate armor on its body appeared.
‘Heart of Great Strength.’
It didn’t move.
‘It feels unfair that this doesn’t work, though.’
It didn’t matter.
He just needed to understand that this was a ntal world, the front yard of a malevolent spirit, or sothing similar.
He had experienced this once before.
Though it was just once, there had been countless tis when he had risked his life and gone through similar situations.
Thanks to those experiences, so things only needed to be experienced once.
For instance, understanding the situation just once was enough.
Therefore, even if Encrid wasn’t familiar with the current situation, he could remain calm.
“Ah.”
His voice ca out.
He tried speaking, and it seed to work fine.
“Can you speak?”
The answer ca not in words, but with a sword.
Thud!
A suit of armor wielding a sword charged at him, kicking up the thick mud.
Whoosh.
It was a heavy strike, a downward slash from above.
It combined speed and strength, and the trajectory was tricky.
Encrid blocked it in the sa manner.
He blocked and pushed. The opponent then thrust at his side in the sa way. Encrid’s response was identical.
As he repeated these identical actions, like a play, the opponent’s blade suddenly rose.
No, it was a pre-planned move from the beginning.
The rising blade from below aid to pierce his chin. Encrid bent his left knee and twisted his body.
The blade narrowly missed his chin, grazing his right cheek and brushing past his forehead.
Thanks to the gap created by dodging, Encrid’s sword slashed at the opponent’s waist.
Clang.
‘Did he block that too?’
As they continued to exchange blows, Encrid got caught up in the situation. He swung his sword repeatedly. He tried to open the Gate of Sixth Sense to read the opponent’s intentions, but failed.
The consequence ca physically.
The opponent’s tal blade stabbed Encrid in the chest.
Luagarne would have been shocked if she had been stabbed in such a vital spot.
“Phew.”
A dull pain spread from his heart throughout his body.
He died again.
This was the second death. However, his body was still intact. His heart was racing, and there was pain, but he wasn’t truly dead.
So, this is what’s supposed to be difficult?
No, isn’t this actually not that bad?
It seed much better than actually dying.
“Were you stabbed there?”
Luagarne was right next to him. Encrid nodded and stood up.
After taking a few breaths, he felt fine. He could move. He wasn’t seriously injured.
‘Grasping the sword causes the pain of death. The mont is brief, and the task is to learn swordsmanship.’
It was strangely familiar in so way.
“It’s foolish. Attempting it is foolish unless you want to go insane…”
But was Luagarne always this nagging?
Encrid recalled the first ti he repeated this day.
The thrusting technique from then had beco second nature and now felt like his own skill.
He also saw Frog, who was absorbed in nagging, in the background.
And the sword he had been holding until recently, the cursed sword Tutor, supposedly housed a malevolent spirit skilled in swordsmanship.
“Is this really how it’s supposed to be done?”
Encrid calmly ignored the nagging. Instead, he swung his sword, displaying a form he had learned from observing his opponent.
His intention was clear: to train or discipline himself.
Luagarne, who had stopped talking, stared at Encrid without blinking.
Luagarne muttered aloud what she had been thinking internally.
“Did you hit your head? Are you already injured?”
Encrid didn’t shake his head or add any explanation in response to Luagarne’s words. He simply swung his sword, muttering to himself.
It was as if he was trying to recall a specific trajectory.
“Was it like this?”
To Luagarne, Encrid seed slow, very slow. He was a person remarkably lacking in the talent for moving his body or handling a sword.
‘I’ve been teaching him directly, and this is as far as he’s gotten?’
Luagarne considered herself a scholar. Not the kind who sits and reads books all day, like other Frogs.
She also studied swordsmanship. Luagarne had a deep understanding that significantly influenced the swordsmanship of the leading families in the central continent.
She wasn’t an old Frog without reason.
She was recognized more for her skills in other areas than for her martial prowess.
Among those skills, her ability to teach stood out.
Despite this, Encrid’s progress was incredibly slow.
Of course, there were monts that defied understanding.
In monts of seemingly impossible crises, he suddenly made significant improvents.
No preparation, signs, or indications.
His skills just suddenly improved.
Luagarne had never encountered such a person.
Soone who was incomprehensible, inexplicable, and could not be understood by any asure she knew.
“Can you watch this for ? We’re trapped anyway.”
At his casual request, Luagarne spoke up again.
“You really seem like you’ve hit your head.”
“Kya.”
The panther lying next to them nodded.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Krais asked.
“What is it? You’re not possessed by an evil spirit, are you?”
Finn asked, her voice filled with concern.
Encrid calmly swung his sword again. It couldn’t be said to be perfect, in fact, it was clumsy.
But to Luagarne’s eyes, the intent of the sword was visible.
If the opponent were in front of him, he would drive them to the left and then thrust.
Encrid moved similarly.
There were issues with his footwork and a few other things, though.
So, Encrid was currently trying to implent the form.
Just as Luagarne was about to say sothing.
“I think I’ll watch it again.”
Encrid said, then imdiately grasped the sword again.
“He’s completely insane. Totally insane.”
Luagarne was suddenly impressed.
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