The path to becoming a Sword Runner .
It had been several days since I began the endless sparring sessions packaged under the guise of “guided training.” Ever since I grasped that initial clue, I could feel my sword changing with every passing day and night. From the moment the results of my training became tangible, my motivation soared. Nothing was as valuable as visible progress.
Liam was right.
My training was identical to a blacksmith forging a blade. Just as metal is hammered into shape, I was being carved away by the flow of time.
Into a new shape, harder than ever before.
“The town square is looking quite respectable now.”
The appearance of the Caravan estate was also gradually transforming. It was the joint work of Hailyn and Audrey . Both were capable mages, and mages made for excellent estate managers. The landscape of the territory shifted day by day. Now, there were even merchants out on the streets selling goods. I bought a bottle of milk this morning, and it tasted quite good—it reminded me of the milk I used to drink as a child.
“Ah, Young Master . Thanks to you, I’ve been able to learn some incredible magic.”
“Thanks to me? What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, just something! I’ve gained a wonderful master because of you!”
Hailyn spoke in riddles. A master? Did that prideful witch actually decide to teach Hailyn magic? When I looked at her with a questioning gaze, Audrey simply huffed as usual and offered no explanation. A beaming Hailyn continued.
“Look forward to it. I’ve learned a new kind of magic this time. Or should I call it shamanism? I’m going to test the results tonight, and I’ll be sure to show you, Young Master !”
“Ah, right.”
“You have to watch!”
Regardless, change and growth were good things.
I watched Hailyn and Audrey depart before heading toward the training grounds. Seol-yoon was there. And so were those tiresome wooden swords. Beside the nicked wooden sword lay dozens of broken ones.
“Shall we start for today?”
The dozens of wooden swords I had broken.
“Yes.”
Indeed, change and growth were good things.
I, too, was changing.
And I was growing. Clearly.
*
A Sword Runner’s wings are essentially a mirage. The wings are not a physical part of the body but merely a manifestation of Mana. It is easier to understand if one thinks of it as “The Path” visualized in a different form. The wings that Sword Runners create sprout naturally once they begin to influence the external world. They are generated when the mana of nature and the mana within the body resonate.
Seol-yoon’s were similar.
Fitting for the characteristic of Thousand Changes , which shifts endlessly, Seol-yoon’s wings flickered without rest, maintaining a form that was simultaneously incomplete and perfect. Because they had no fixed shape, they were wings that could become anything. Consequently, Seol-yoon’s Mana tended to be somewhat light. It had to be, in order to change in an instant.
It was Seol-yoon’s only weakness.
Compared to swordsmen of the same realm, Seol-yoon possessed lighter mana. If she encountered an enemy of similar or higher standing, she would inevitably suffer from “Mana Shock.” However, Seol-yoon was aware of her weakness. Thus, she never sought to clash head-on. She neutralized her enemies by turning their own strength against them or by utilizing her miraculous transformations. It was the pinnacle of technique—a feat possible only because of her genius talent.
From Seol-yoon’s perspective, what Arhan was doing looked like “madness.”
“…Are you growing wings using your Mana Heart as the root? Instead of sprouting new wings outside your body, you’re planning to connect the ‘Path’ and the ‘Wings’ entirely, starting from your heart? Why on earth would you do such a thing…?”
Arhan had given up on the process of making the mana light and separating it. Instead, he intended to create wings while maintaining their hardness, using his heart as the root. Not a new creation, but an evolution and connection of what already existed. The moment she realized his intent, Seol-yoon was horrified.
“If you do that and experience ‘Mana Shock’ while fighting an enemy stronger than you, it won’t end with a minor injury. What would normally be resolved by temporarily folding your wings will instead pierce all the way to your heart. Connecting everything is incredibly dangerous.”
“It likely is dangerous.”
“You know that, so why…?”
Seol-yoon viewed Arhan’s actions as a stupid and ignorant eccentricity. She thought he had committed a blunder because he had agonized over the “wings” for far too long.
Why is the Immortal just leaving him be?
The Sword Demon was always by Arhan’s side. Why would that great Immortal stand by and watch Arhan make such a mistake? Seol-yoon could not understand it.
However.
“Let’s talk after we cross swords once.”
When the duel began, Seol-yoon could faintly understand why Arhan had made that choice.
“…Huh?”
A brief exchange.
They traded three or four blows, the same attacks they had used in dozens of previous spars. When the short duel ended, Seol-yoon unknowingly let the sword slip from her hand. No, she hadn’t let go. She simply could no longer hold it. Seol-yoon looked at the wooden sword on the ground with startled eyes. The wooden sword was perfectly fine. Next, Seol-yoon looked at her own hands.
“…!”
Seol-yoon’s palms were a wreck. Her soft skin was torn and bleeding, and her fingers were so bruised she couldn’t exert any strength. Without her even realizing it, both of Seol-yoon’s hands had been ruined. Forget holding a sword; it was difficult even to make a fist.
“What is this…?”
Seol-yoon looked at Arhan with a grimace. Arhan hadn’t moved a single step from his spot. He stood firm, as if rooted to the earth, holding his wooden sword. To Seol-yoon’s eyes, Arhan looked like a statue erected in a city. A statue made of Steel.
Even though it was not yet complete, Arhan’s sword was unnervingly hard. To the point where the question, Does a swordsman really need that much hardness? surged within her. Wiping the blood from her hands, Seol-yoon looked at Arhan once more. Only then did she realize.
” Arhan .”
“Yes.”
“…Your sword. Just who is it meant to fight?”
Seol-yoon’s sword was optimized for fighting other swordsmen. She could mimic a sword technique the moment she saw it, and once she had perfectly copied it, she could execute it with further refinement. By stealing and swallowing the techniques of others and wielding them with the Thousand Changes , Seol-yoon reigned invincible among those of equal skill. Her talent was a gift from the heavens.
In Seol-yoon’s mind, “swordsmanship” was decided by the battle of wits and technical perfection. Martial arts were originally created for the weak to stand against the strong. Therefore, she believed that “technique” was the most important factor when determining superiority among those who trained in the sword.
That wasn’t just Seol-yoon’s subjective opinion. In reality, once one surpassed a certain level in the sword, physical training was no longer considered vital. The body only needed to be at a basic level. Even in professional academies, stamina or strength training was only given to apprentices who hadn’t reached Sword Beginner or freshmen who had barely attained it.
What mattered was technique.
How mastered was a certain sword style? How great was the sword art one possessed? How well could one read the opponent’s moves, and how many moves could one produce in return? Everyone said those were the core of swordsmanship.
These were the words Seol-yoon had heard until her ears were sore while learning the sword.
These were the things considered common sense when discussing the sword on this continent.
However.
“The unreasonable.”
Arhan’s sword was completely shattering the common sense Seol-yoon knew.
“The things that cannot be accepted.”
Technique? It was crude. If they competed on technique alone, he would lose ten times out of ten against an academy graduate.
Sophisticated battles of wits? There were none. He possessed a “Doubt” that allowed him to read an opponent’s moves remarkably well, but even that would eventually fall to a systematic sword style.
To Seol-yoon’s eyes, Arhan’s sword could only look pathetic.
However.
“This world, which takes away precious things as if it were nothing.”
Seol-yoon could not imagine that pathetic sword ever breaking. A blade without technique, without a battle of wits, without a refined form. Yet, it was a blade that would never be swept away, no matter what storm blew. A sword that felt as if it would hold its place with dignity even if the continent split and the heavens collapsed. Immovable Steel that would not waver, bend, or retreat.
“My sword is a sword meant to fight the world.”
It was a statement Seol-yoon could not understand.
No such sentence existed in the swordsmanship she had learned. Yet, strangely, her heart raced. Every time she looked at Arhan’s sword, an unexplainable thumping occurred.
“…How strange.”
Change and growth were good things.
“Again.”
The boy was not the only one growing.
The girl facing the boy was also changing.
“Again.”
Everyone was moving higher.
Upward, toward the heights.
*
「Judging by the flow of the current era, that girl’s sword is correct.」
On a moonlit night, Liam spoke.
「A long time has passed since the ‘Sword’ first appeared in the world. Countless techniques have been established, countless people have researched them, and countless records have been amassed. That girl’s sword can be called the most efficient, clean, and perfect sword.」
“…….”
「One could say she walks a path that is beyond reproach for a swordsman.」
I listened to Liam’s words in silence.
「But tell me.」
“…….”
「Can a single ‘excellent swordsman’ truly point their blade at the world?」
Liam’s question was heavier than ever.
「Can one thrust a blade at the continent crafted by the Great Nine Goddesses and the Seven Chief Gods , and raise their voice to say this world is unreasonable and unacceptable? Can a mere individual do that? Can a swordsman, who is nothing more than a mortal, truly do such a thing? Even if they could… would those lofty beings even deign to listen to such a trivial voice? They would not. They would ignore, look down upon, and trample it.」
“…….”
「Young descendant, you said you would point your blade at the world. You said you would take revenge on the Swordmaster who took everything from you, and that you would become a Swordmaster yourself to achieve that. To do so, you must become a being capable of facing the world. You must become a single sword that can oppose anyone.」
Liam’s eyes reflected my image.
「You are a dullard. You cannot walk the same path as that girl. But you have another talent.」
“…….”
「The talent of a hero.」
The ‘me’ reflected in Liam’s pupils was still pathetic.
「The talent to become a legend, to build an epic, and finally, to become a myth.」
“…….”
「Fortunately, that talent is the most suitable for learning the sword of Caravan .」
A face that had grown larger and a body that had thickened, yet still retained the air of a boy. A figure gasping for breath from exhaustion. All of it was pathetic and insignificant.
「In the First Age, such a thing as a ‘Sword’ did not exist. When I first gripped and swung a sword, the enemies I had to face were not swordsmen using superior techniques. They were not enemies divided by realms like Mana Hearts , Paths , or Wings . My enemy was an era drenched in blood. My enemy was a world gone wrong, filled with malice.」
“……Ah.”
「So, I had to pick up a sword that could face those things.」
The midnight moon shone coldly.
Under the blue light, Liam’s eyes also gleamed.
「A sword that would not break even if it stood against the entire world.」
“…….”
「Steel was born from such resolve.」
My physical strength was depleted.
Because I had swung my sword to my absolute limit, I felt as if I might collapse at any moment.
「Young descendant.」
“Yes.”
「Are you ready to take flight?」
“Yes.”
Despite everything, I did not fall.
Instead, I stood firm and looked at my master.
「Do you remember what I told you before?」
“Which words do you mean?”
「That you need three blades in order to take flight.」
I remembered.
Since my master said those words, I had devoured Gale and Lantern . Now, I only needed to devour one more blade to reach three. Why was he mentioning this now? Was he going to choose the final blade for me right away? Amidst my rising questions, my master spoke.
「Within your body, there are already three blades to be used as sacrifices for your wings.」
“Pardon? Are you mistaken about something? So far, I have only—”
「No, there are three. You simply haven’t realized it yet.」
It was an unexpected statement.
「From now on, you will swing your sword without rest so that you can properly melt down the Gale and Lantern you have digested. The moment you perfectly understand those two blades, you will realize the identity of the third sword melted within you.」
“…….”
「And only then will the Wings of Steel sprout.」
These were words I had never imagined.
There was a third sword I didn’t know about?
While my mind was in a daze, my master continued.
「You had better hurry.」
He gave a faint, sharp smile.
「It seems the world has no intention of leaving you in peace.」
My master was looking toward a far-off place.
*
While the boy and girl continued their training, a groaning voice echoed from a corner of the village.
“Ugh.”
The owner of the voice was Hailyn . At an hour when she would normally be in bed, Hailyn had climbed the ridge of the estate and was looking up at the night sky. At the pitch-black sky where the stars and moon had risen.
“According to the method I was taught, this should be right… ugh. I don’t know if I’m seeing this correctly. I should have come with Lady Audrey . Did I get too greedy…?”
Hailyn had climbed the mountain alone to try out what she had learned. The technique the girl cast was a rather peculiar one. It wasn’t the black magic she had learned from Jerry Selfit , nor was it the basic magic she had learned from Audrey . It was a newly imparted magic—or more accurately, “shamanism.”
“Hmm.”
Shamanism passed down from the Orc Shaman , Sherdic .
A traditional shamanism passed down among the Orcs called Constellation . Originally, it could not be performed by a human body, but the mana that had turned sinister due to Jerry Selfit’s influence allowed Hailyn to use the Orcish shamanism. Thus, Hailyn’s eyes were seeing a landscape invisible to humans. The mystery of reading the movement of the stars to foresee the future. Astrology, the foundation of Constellation . Hailyn read the systematically moving stars and deciphered the fate approaching the Caravan estate. A fate laid out in a very abstract and symbolic manner, as befitting shamans.
“What is this? Seven… Swords… ?”
