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Now reading: Chapter 9 : Chapter 9 from Sword Devouring Swordmaster, a Action novel by Akazatl.

Chapter 9. Sword Beginner (4)

Sword Beginner.

The novices who had just taken their first step into the path of the sword.

Young masters and ladies who learned the sword as a hobby, or new academy students who had barely entered—such were the insignificant ones that made up this lowly stage.

I had seen countless Sword Beginners in my life.

Their swords had all been pathetic, clumsy, and so fragile they could snap with the slightest touch. Of course it was natural. Solidity was sothing accumulated through years of repetition, and the swords of novices who had only just set foot on this path could not possibly be firm.

That was why Fetel could not believe his own eyes in this mont.

He had fought and defeated countless Knights.

They were 「Sword Walkers」, skilled swordsn who had devoted their lives to the sword.

Yet this feeling—he had never once experienced it, even when crossing blades with other masters.

For a fleeting instant, Fetel saw an illusion overlaying the boy who stood before him. Though only for a mont, the boy beca steel. Not soft flesh and blood, but steel that would not break no matter what it clashed against.

At the center of that steel was a heart. The source of its solidity.

If he had to describe it—then it was a heart of steel.

‘Have I lost my mind?’

That thought suddenly struck him.

Were the ominous rumors about a ghost living in this village actually true?

What was he seeing now? Was it rely a pitiful boy? Or was it the spirit of one who had died and could not leave this world, wandering the village as a ghost?

Then the boy’s figure in Fetel’s sight wavered violently.

In that instant, the boy’s face changed.

It was no longer the face of a boy, but of a woman of indeterminate age. A woman whose face was twisted and marred with burn scars, as if cursed by a demon. Her gaze shone with a cold, moonlike glimr.

Fetel instinctively knew.

The sword would co again.

Tightening his grip, Fetel muttered without realizing it.

“…Perhaps I am fighting a ghost right now.”

***

My heart pounded.

The new heart that had been born inside beat with imnse force.

If the pounding of a normal heart made it feel like one’s chest would burst, then this other heart beat as if it would explode my entire body. With every surge, a shudder coursed through .

From the very mont it was ford, I knew.

This was a 「Mana Heart」.

Though this was a glorious mont after long training, I could not allow myself to rejoice. The guest before had drawn his sword and swung it at .

Now—think.

That man was a Knight.

He had more real combat experience than I, and his mastery of the sword was higher than mine.

I had barely parried the first strike by sheer luck.

By holding onto tension and carefully observing his muscles, predicting his movents, drawing the sword’s trajectory in my mind, and slipping my blade into the path beforehand. Mary the swordswoman’s intense mories had also resurfaced, aiding .

But this ti the guest would not hold his sword loosely. This ti he would strike with more force, more ruthlessly, so his sword would not be deflected by the thrust of a re Sword Beginner.

So. Expecting a second miracle was forbidden.

And what was that sensation when our blades clashed?

‘It felt like colliding with a speeding carriage.’

The instant our swords t, it felt as though every bone in my body shattered. I nearly spat blood, and all strength drained from my limbs.

Had I not clung to consciousness, I would have dropped my sword instantly and collapsed on the spot. Such was the chasm between my current self and the realm of a 「Sword Walker」.

There was only one reason I was still standing after crossing blades. Because I was a Karavan.

Just as Liam had said, the other heart coiled in my chest had taken firm root like steel.

「This proves again that your training was not in vain, young descendant.」

Fixing my gaze on the guest, I kept breathing steadily.

Ever since the 「Mana Heart」 was ford, my breath had not only drawn in oxygen but also that other elent filling the world—Mana. That mystical power flowed into my body, reviving my flickering mind.

“Hoo, ha.”

I looked into the eyes beyond the sword he aid at . Human eyes always reveal much.

Even those called superhuman were no different. In the guest’s eyes I read many emotions.

Shock, agitation, suspicion of this situation, confusion.

As soon as I read those elents, Mary’s voice echoed.

『Just as an unfamiliar enemy is an unknown existence to , I am also an unknown existence to the enemy. Knowing this when fighting and not knowing it makes a great difference.』

『Rember. Just as I fear the enemy I do not understand, so too does the enemy fear , for they do not understand .』

My muscles tensed tautly. Like a bowstring drawn to its limit.

『Fear is another blade a swordsman possesses. Though unseen, it can swell larger than anything, and though without substance, it can pierce sharper than anything.』

『Hegel said that in order to survive, it is important to wield the weapon in your hand well—but just as important is how you wield the invisible, unseen blade.』

“Hoo.”

At the mont my muscles reached their limit, I stretched out my hand. The gleam of the blade transford from a point into a line. Needle shot forth like lightning at the guest, and from his body stretched a 「Road」. Instinct told . I could not pass, pierce, or cross that Road.

Just as expected, the guest’s sword strike was harsher, more thorough, showing not the slightest opening. It was the true sword strike of a perfected Knight, a 「Sword Walker」. A Sword Beginner’s sword could be shattered instantly.

Then what was I to do?

There was only one answer.

To create my own 「Road」.

“Haa—”

It was an absurd thought. A 「Road」 was the domain of Sword Walkers, not sothing a novice who had just beco a Sword Beginner could imitate.

That was why they were called superhuman.

Even I knew.

That was why I did not seek a perfect Road. Even if incomplete, I wished to carve one out for this single mont. If I had a heart as solid as steel, then perhaps it was possible.

Instinctively.

‘Now.’

As I inhaled and exhaled to the limit, I wrung out all my focus.

The world slowed, my senses sharpened to their extres. I scanned all the information I could possibly perceive.

My target was only the guest.

Which muscles he tensed, how he breathed, what movents he prepared, where his eyes looked, how much oxygen and Mana he inhaled, how much force he would invest in his next move, how much Mana he would release.

Suspicion. I doubted every trivial elent, dug into it, questioned it. I examined everything without letting anything pass without a reason.

Only then could it be done.

『As Hegel said, I went out into the wider world.』

『With this hideous face, I thrust my blade at the world and lived as a wanderer. That life was free—and lonely.』

Only then—『Perhaps my thin, needle-like sword was a blade that reflected myself. I, who only found relief in stabbing sothing, who snapped at once upon colliding with anything, who lived bristling with thorns—Mary……』

『Sharper, pricklier, living as a lonely needle that kept no one at my side while pointing at everything in the world.』

I could do it.

『Perhaps what I had truly wanted to stab was the world itself.』

『The world that had stolen my parents, my daily life, my future.』

At the end of perfect focus ca perfect imrsion. In that instant, my hand and arm gripping the Needle transford, becoming those of the swordswoman Mary from the past.

『So if you ask whether I succeeded in stabbing my world, I cannot answer.』

『There is only one answer I can give.』

A frail arm marred with burn scars. Following it down revealed a calloused hand, twisted fingers clutching a thin Needle. Along with a vivid mory, my eyes saw a line—illusion or not, I could not tell.

『I no longer fear fire or the world.』

A straight line, like a road.

『Even if I cannot win, I can stand against it.』

『With my Needle in hand.』

The line was hazy like a mirage. There were many such lines, but the more I focused, the more the outer lines disappeared. Until only one line remained.

The last line left was startlingly clear.

『Ah, now that death approaches, I recall what I said as a child.』

『Yes, is that not what life is?』

The Needle in my hand moved on its own, sucked into the line before . The trajectory of the blade twisted on its own. The weapon was forged by a blacksmith hamring iron. A collection of steel that should have been lifeless moved with will, as if alive.

“…!”

The guest’s eyes widened in that instant.

Agitation, shock, faint unease.

Regardless, my Needle pressed on, like an arrow.

And Mary’s voice resounded.

『Whether slashing or stabbing, so long as you can aim it, that is enough.』

The swift, precise Needle aid to skewer the enemy.

And then…

“──!”

With a thunderous crash, my body was flung into the air. A tingling sensation slamd into like a lightning strike. For a mont, it felt as if my body were being torn apart.

“Ugh…”

I could see nothing.

When I opened my eyes again, I was rolling across the dirt, covered in dust. The Needle I had gripped until my hand nearly shattered was broken, splintered into pieces. Pain surged so intensely it was hard to even breathe. The heart that had pounded so fiercely now slowed.

Thump… thump…

“Th… this… truly, astounding…”

The guest’s voice reached , halting and distant. That gentle voice faded, my vision blurred, then was painted completely black. And my consciousness was severed. With a snap.

After I completely lost consciousness, a voice echoed inside.

『The last thing I rember was the burning mansion.』

The final mory contained within the Needle’s forr master.

***

The last thing I rembered was the burning mansion. Within the raging flas, my father and mother turned to black ashes. I did not know how I survived those savage flas. In that accident I lost my family, and I lost the rosy life I could have had as a woman. What remained was a little wealth, and a body and face twisted and marred with scars, as if cursed by a demon.

The image of myself in the mirror was hateful, my will to live gone.

Well, if there was any consolation, my life turned out not as dark and miserable as I had once feared.

“Ah.”

I t good people, I t the sword, and I lived a freer, broader life than what had originally been destined for . If asked whether it was a life of hatred, I could confidently say no.

“…In the end, it seems it was fate.”

I opened my eyes faintly and looked around. Flas engulfed everything.

The fire that had stolen my childhood and future now sought to take my life entirely.

I should have listened to Nerik, who told to avoid jobs that paid too much. Perhaps I should have listened to Jeven, who asked to quit rcenary work and live with him. No other man would ever love soone as hideous as I.

“Yes, this must be fate.”

But as I said, I had no regrets.

I had entered the enemy’s den, been trapped in a cabin, my needle was broken, flas surrounded on all sides. There was no way out. As my mind drifted away, I instead felt a sense of release.

Yes, this was the common end of a wandering rcenary.

Insignificant, lonely…

“Hegel.”

Dragging my heavy body, I slowly stood. Then I aid my broken Needle toward the advancing flas. The snapped blade was blunt, short, and thin.

It was foolish. No matter how I thrust the Needle, it could not drive back the fire. I was just an ordinary blade-for-hire, a pitiful gypsy with no knowledge of mysticism.

And yet, and yet…

“Soon we will et again. If the Sergen Order’s words are true, I will see you once more in the embrace of the flas.”

Even so, I stood against it.

“When that ti cos, I will tell you the story of my free life. All of it was thanks to you.”

I loosened my grip, twisted my wrist.

The flas drew closer.

Instead of retreating, I stepped forward.

Like a moth to fla.

“I no longer fear fire or the world.”

That was…

…the end of Mary, the swordswoman.

.

.

.

“Gasp!”

I woke drenched in cold sweat.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I frantically touched every corner of my body with both hands.

The excruciating pain from monts ago was gone.

“Ah, a dream. The mory of the sword…”

Mary’s mory, the mory of being burned alive, had been too vivid.

My clothes were soaked through with cold sweat.

Panting, I felt the changes in my body.

How to describe it? My muscles felt softer, more flexible. My senses are keener, like those of a cat. As if I had lived a lifeti in danger as a rcenary.

I could feel it.

Mary’s sword, 「Needle」, within —its Ingestion was complete.

“Ah…”

I sat there blankly in strange fulfillnt.

“You have awakened at last.”

A heavy voice rang from afar. Turning my head, I saw the guest. He sat before a crackling bonfire, looking at .

“There is sothing I very much wish to speak to you about.”

***

「Na: Needle」

「The long, slender sword once used by the swordswoman Mary.」

「A sword specialized for thrusting.」

「Ingestion complete.」

.

.

.

「Steel Blood is hungry.」

「Ingest a new sword.」

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