Translator: AkazaTL
Pr/Ed: Sol IX
***
Chapter 172 – The Great Warrior (1)
“The Order of the Cross has sent word. Have you heard of it?”
“Of course. They’ve withdrawn from the port city of Visente.”
“Idiots. I had expectations for those fools, thinking they carried so grand ideal—but they turned out to be nothing more than flower-brained Southerners. Didn’t we warn them repeatedly? Crusaders, Inquisitors—those kinds of violence only function in peaceful lands.”
“Did you expect simpletons ignorant of the outer world to understand by words alone? It was bound to happen eventually. Better that they learned their lesson early—if sothing like this had happened during a crucial mont, the losses would’ve been far greater.”
“Damn it, it’s frustrating. If it were up to , I’d sweep them all aside and rebuild their foundation from scratch, just like the Iron Kingdom did with the Six Free Cities. Do you realize how valuable that land is? Just looking at its conditions, it’s worth more than all Six Free Cities combined.”
“If we did that, others wouldn’t stand idle. To keep the entire continent from burning, we must preserve appearances. More importantly, the Seven Lords and Nine Goddesses might deliver judgnt. It’s fine for now, but if we adopt our usual direct and forceful thods, they might sing a song of divine wrath. We all know the truth, don’t we? The gods aren’t fair. Their favoritism is blatant—like the Heavenly Father who shelters only his wives.”
“Right. We can’t end up like those who angered the Witches.”
“In any case, we need to invest more. The port city of Visente is a key position and the future face of the Southern Continent. It’s a city with symbolic aning—and, more importantly, essential for maintaining supply lines. Tch, do those fools not even understand basic military logistics?”
“Let’s leave that aside. The Crusaders are commanded by the Papal Office, after all. Those people think the supplies we send simply fall from the sky. They have no idea how vital logistics are in war, or how complex the administration behind it is. As long as their army moves, they assu it’s all natural—oblivious to our efforts.”
“Well, the less they understand our importance, the better. If they don’t appreciate what we provide, they won’t mind when we’re gone. Whatever they’re thinking doesn’t matter—just hurry up and unify the Southern Continent already. Make it easier for us to consu.”
“The uniqueness of the Southern Continent is already eroding. Where hatred, anger, and conflict spread, there can be no sanctity or greatness. Paradise will burn away. And when it does, we’ll simply swallow the ashes. Compared to the Six Free Cities devoured by the Iron Kingdom, the harvest here will be incomparable—a whole continent running tirelessly for our benefit.”
“To enjoy that sweet harvest, the Southern Continent must first unite. And for that, Visente is indispensable. So, no matter how much we despise those fools, we help them—for now.”
“Who will you send? I heard the Order of the Cross drew their own ‘trump card’ after our warning.”
“Their trump card, you say.”
“The one most beloved by the Son of Sin and Punishnt—the one chosen by Him personally. The Great Warrior of Judgnt is said to be heading to reclaim Visente.”
“The Great Warrior, huh. Seems they finally feel threatened.”
“Yes. But we needn’t worry. A Great Warrior doesn’t lose.”
***
Magwang—Polished Light. A term aning to grind tal until it shines. Ordinarily used in the process of forging a sword—the final stage after forging, quenching, and polishing, when the blade is rubbed until it gleams. As a na for a sword technique, it sounded… peculiar.
‘Then again, the nas of other Karavan techniques were similar.’
Forging. Polishing. Both sounded more like parts of swordmaking than swordsmanship.
To my doubt, my Master replied:
「The reason for such nas is simple. Karavan Steel was born from the process of crafting swords—because I was once a blacksmith.」
“You were a blacksmith, Master?”
「Yes. Though of mixed blood, I considered myself a Dwarf.」
A blacksmith. Now that I thought about it, I had seen traces of that in Liam’s mories contained within the Beloved Sword. In those fragnts, Liam crafted his own blade instead of asking another. With his small hands, he gripped a hamr, striking heated steel until a weapon capable of cutting and piercing the world was born.
My Master had been a blacksmith.
「There was no such thing as swordsmanship at my age. What I saw and grew up around were the Dwarves, the mountains that pierced the heavens, the ringing of hamrs echoing through the peaks, the roar of fire and sparks giving birth to blades.」
“……”
「I was born in war. I grew up watching the world drown in blood. The era devoured everything—brave youths once called heroes, boys drafted by the will of kings, children who could barely lift a spear, won who brewed soup, and the elderly who’d lost their families. Everyone died, equally.」
Liam looked at .
「In the desolate land the war left behind, the only things that stood tall were blades. Over the earth where life had returned to dust, only the weapons stripped from the dead remained.」
His eyes reflected distant mories.
「Among that devastation, a single blade stood like a flower blooming amid death. Not a soldier’s spear, but an officer’s sword. Stuck upright in the soft ground, it looked to like a gravestone honoring the fallen. Though everyone had fallen, that sword alone stood tall, as if defying the heavens.」
“Will…?”
「That mory forged . Everyone who wielded a weapon eventually died. When the trials ended, no one breathed anymore. The only thing left unbroken was steel.」
Liam chuckled faintly.
「I was young then, too foolish to think deeply—but to , that blade seed alive. Even if the world perished, it would stand unbending—like sothing eternal. Even if the sea dried up, the sun fell, or the sky collapsed, I believed the sword would remain.」
“……”
「That was the origin of Steel.」
Liam’s eyes glead.
「That’s why I never swung a sword to fight. The thod of slashing or thrusting didn’t matter. I sought to beco one with the sword. To be precise—I sought to beco the sword itself.」
To beco the sword. It sounded taphorical—at first.
「Do you understand now?」
But it wasn’t.
「Do you understand why I beca the first Swordmaster? How one of mixed Dwarven blood accomplished what none had in all history? Why, during the age of Karavan’s glory, our family produced so many Swordmasters?」
The word sword referred to a blade. But it held another aning, too.
「Karavan Steel was created with the dream of transcendence from the very beginning.」
Transcendence— The realm belonging to Swordmasters.
The power that made them absolute.
「The Swordmaster’s realm is the essential goal of Karavan. Every other so-called Swordmaster is an imitation—a desperate mimicry of . A true Swordmaster is only one who inherits Karavan’s Sword.」
An outrageously arrogant claim. Yet, it wasn’t arrogance—it was fact. I could see it in his eyes.
「Draw your sword, young descendant.」
When it ca to the sword, my Master never lied.
“Yes.”
And this ti would be no different.
***
「The third Steel differs from the first and second you’ve learned.」
“How so?”
「The first—Forging—is a sword that hamrs down the opponent, just as one strikes steel. The second—Polishing—is a sword that shaves away armor and mystic barriers in an instant.」
I knew both movents well. Polishing was not for slaying foes instantly, but for stripping their defenses—a secondary form, not suited for finishing blows. I preferred Forging, a strike of pure domination. The sa movent that had shattered even Earth Spirit King Gaia.
「In swordsmithing, Polishing and Polishing Light appear similar, but their purposes differ. So it is with the movents of Steel.」
Liam smiled faintly.
「Magwang—Polished Light—is the act of giving the sword its shine. It is the process of making a blade gleam, drawing all eyes to it. Polishing sharpens—it cuts. Polished Light makes it shine.」
“So… if I use it, my body glows?”
「Tch, fool. Did you imagine killing enemies with light shining from your body?」
“Well… that would look pretty cool.”
「I truly cannot sigh enough at your idiocy.」
It was a joke.
「Polished Light is an act that lets your sword shine. That brilliance makes everything else seem dull and unworthy in comparison. So… no, never mind. Explaining it to a slow-witted dullard is pointless.」
“……”
「Better that you experience it yourself.」
With a long sigh, Liam spoke again.
「Follow my movents exactly.」
I obeyed, swallowing my irritation. The third Steel, Magwang, wasn’t hard to execute—but…
“Master.”
「What is it?」
“I can tell it’s different from the others, but… when would I ever use this? Honestly, it seems too—well, impractical.”
How would I even use this?
「A fair question.」
He nodded, then replied.
「Against the shining ones.」
“Pardon?”
「Against those whose brilliance your feeble sword cannot yet reach. You’ll use it when you face them.」
The shining ones. An abstract phrase—but perhaps one day it would matter. Still, I doubted I’d need it any ti soon.
「You still doubt. You never learn.」
He clicked his tongue, as though reading my thoughts.
「You’ll use it soon enough—especially here, in the Southern Continent. Nowhere else will you find so many shining beings.」
***
The port city of Visente quickly regained its forr splendor. Rebuilt structures restored its old charm, and the ancient, sacred atmosphere once more fit its reputation as the “Blessed Land” of the Southern Continent.
“It’s going smoothly. As expected, in a land so faithful to the gods, everyone worships heroes. The mont they hear I’m with you, my lord, they’re all smiles. In business, goodwill is everything—and I’m swimming in it! Hahaha! Well, I am quite the likable man, don’t you think? Ah! Not that you’re any less likable, my lord! Hahahaha!”
“You’re very… optimistic.”
“Positivity is my life’s motto!”
Zeppelin Gold was practically glowing.
“At this rate, I might just strike it big! My legend may begin right here in the Southern Continent! Oh no, I’ll have to write an autobiography—but my writing’s awful. I’d better hire a ghostwriter soon!”
“……”
He was the definition of over-the-top. Watching him, I sighed.
“Aren’t you the least bit concerned? This is still a war-torn land. Anything could happen.”
“Co now, things are stable enough. We’re in the Southern Continent—small troubles can be handled by the Black Archipelago rcenaries. And besides, you’re here, my lord.”
“Hm…”
He really shouldn’t have said that.
‘Words like that always tempt disaster.’
Nothing ever goes that smoothly. Visente was too important a place—for both the Holy Empire of the Southern Continent and the Order of the Cross. Peaceful or not, surely they wouldn’t be without a final card to play.
“Y-young master Zeppelin—!”
And there it was.
“S-sir, you need to co out right away!”
“What is it? Another city offering trade, perhaps? My fa travels fast! Hold on—hair first. A tidy appearance is key in negotiations—”
“It’s not that, sir. It’s… the Order of the Cross. They’ve co.”
Even a cornered rat bites the cat.
“The Order of the Cross? What, they’ve sent Crusaders again? A swarm of priests and soldiers?”
“No… but the atmosphere is strange.”
Zeppelin tilted his head, puzzled. We stepped outside together.
Beyond the city gates stood the rcenaries of the Black Archipelago, Priest Oren of the Sun, the people of Visente—all gathered, watching an unwelco visitor.
“...Just one?”
No Crusaders. No priests. Only an old crone, her back bent beneath a crimson-stained cross.
“A lone emissary for negotiations? Then allow to—”
“No, sir. Do not approach her.”
The old woman was… strange. She wore a pitch-black nun’s habit embroidered all over with red crosses. It was unlike any attire the Order had worn before. A sinister air seeped from her as she slowly opened her eyes.
No pupils. Only pale, empty white—like a blind woman’s gaze.
“She’s dangerous.”
The old woman’s eyes moved across the crowd—the rcenaries, Zeppelin Gold, Priest Oren, the anxious townsfolk, and finally, . Her gaze—repulsive, suffocating.
As our eyes t, Liam spoke within .
「They’ve made their move.」
“What do you an?”
He frowned.
「A Proxy Warrior. A god’s representative.」
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