Chapter 7

After that day, Sirone felt a twinge in the back of his head, but Lian did not appear. Rumor had it that he had been seized by the sword instructor and whisked off to the mountains. It took a month before he could finally heave a sigh of relief. Humans were prone to forgetfulness, and unless something was particularly momentous, their feelings tended to fade swiftly.

Is he really holding a grudge over what happened that day? Feeling content, Sirone delved into the history of his homeland, the Kingdom of Tormia. Over the past four months, he had diligently absorbed eighty-two books. While it wasn’t a significant number, his reading speed gradually increased as time passed. His expectations were not wrong. The first book had taken him a solid twenty days to conquer. Yet, once he had a firm grasp on it, the subsequent ones flowed much more smoothly.

No book contained entirely new content. It was often a matter of nuanced variations, with familiar ideas resurfacing. There’s no need to be afraid. The beginnings are always the toughest. Once he laid a foundation with around two hundred books, he believed the remaining six hundred would be easily digestible.

His favorite part about history was undoubtedly the feats of the mages. While scholars delved into theories, mages were the ones who brought those theories to life. This dynamic created as many types of mages as the diverse fields of scholarship themselves. However, not every scholar was a mage, primarily due to the highly sensitive mental state required to enter the Spirit Zone. In addition to a broad scope of knowledge, a crucial prerequisite for a mage was a sharp intuition. Hence, armed with his already mastered Spirit Zone, Sirone immersed himself even more fervently in the accumulation of knowledge.

He suppressed his curiosity for miscellaneous subjects and directed his focus solely on history. All of this was in pursuit of the boundless efficiency he would gain once the backbone of his knowledge was fully formed. He wondered what kind of mage he would evolve into when that efficiency would finally shine through. Such musings made even sleep feel like a waste of time.

Sirone breathed in, taking in the unmistakable scent of paper. He closed the last page of the nation’s founding history. At that very moment, the door creaked open.

“You little rat! I’ve been waiting for this day in hell!”

Upon hearing the tone of the voice behind him, he knew it had to be Lian Ojent, the boy who had returned from hell. His face, flushed with anger, might have been mistaken for that of a demon in human form. Sirone clicked his tongue. He’s very persistent.

While he might not know what transpired during Lian’s time away with the sword instructor, the intensity of his rage seemed unabated. If anything had changed, it was the deepening shadows under his eyes and some further emaciation.

“Have you really come after me over what happened that day?” Sirone asked.

“Of course. Do you have any idea how much I suffered? I scaled countless cliffs. Each time I thought my strength would give out and I’d meet my end, I held on, all the while fueled by thoughts of revenge!”

Sirone couldn’t shake a feeling of unease. If Lian had genuinely harbored this grudge day after day, he now stood before him like a mortal adversary.

“Aren’t you going to answer? Do you think I’m doing this just because I went through all that trouble? Why did you betray me, you coward? Just the sight of you makes my blood boil!”

“I didn’t betray you. I merely stated the truth,” he replied.

“I told you not to say anything, didn’t I? If you couldn’t bring yourself to lie, why didn’t you just honestly admit you didn’t want to do it back then? I trusted you.”

Seeing the nobility’s casual logic, Sirone resigned himself to the futility of further persuasion. “What would you like me to do?”

Surprised by this unexpected response, Lian was momentarily taken aback. It was evident that the boy was a recent addition to the household, displaying a level of familiarity that bordered on audacity. “You’re looking down on me too, aren’t you? It seems like you’ve heard some things about me, but let me show you who I really am. Follow me.”

And as ordered, he trailed behind Lian. Judging by the intensity of his anger, Sirone wondered if he might be planning to take him somewhere to unleash his fury. Still, it’s better than dying. Whether he hits me or berates me, I’ll have to bear it. He couldn’t afford to squander the opportunity his parents had worked so hard to provide. Whenever fear crept in, he envisioned his parents sharing a meal, their faces radiant with happiness.

The destination was a small training ground. Although there were various training grounds of different sizes on the estate, the one they arrived at was exclusively for Lian’s use, a place where even a shout would be unheard. As Lian lit a torch, Sirone waited, suppressing the unease that crept over him. He wished Lian would begin soon. The prolonged silence was becoming nauseating. Perhaps he was doing it on purpose since any skilled swordsman knew the tension of a face-off.

“All right, take this.” As the training ground brightened, Lian tossed him a wooden sword. It landed with a crisp thud on Sirone’s palm, which firmly gripped it, its hilt sturdier than that of an ordinary ax.

“Why are you giving me this?” he asked, confused.

“I challenge you to a duel. Unlike you, I’m not a coward. Because one day, I’ll become the world’s greatest swordsman. You’ll be paying the price for underestimating me with a sword.”

Sirone was utterly baffled. “What did I do that was so cowardly?”

“As a butler of House Ojent, you should protect an Ojent. You betrayed me because you didn’t want to face my instructor. You didn’t even bother to think about and help a person who was in need of help. No matter how much I’m ignored by my family, I won’t stand for the same treatment from the likes of you. Come at me. Considering our difference in skills, I’ll let you strike three times before we begin.”

Lian’s expression shifted, determination gleaming in his eyes. Despite his seemingly straightforward demeanor, those eyes bore the unmistakable mark of Ojent lineage.

In response to his resolve, Sirone tightened his grip on the wooden sword. It’s more solid than I thought. In essence, once the three chances Lian had proposed were exhausted, it meant his bones were likely to shatter. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through his mind. What can I do? I have no knowledge of swordplay. Yet, despite the impending despair, he refused to give up. I’ll have to try.

Even with slim chances, passing up the opportunity to try was out of the question. With a powerful swing, Sirone charged forward. His momentum was exceptional, but Lian couldn’t help but scoff. His stance and center of gravity were both off-kilter. He’s never wielded a sword before.

Blocking Sirone’s attack with a thud, Lian shouted, “One!”

The resonating sound seemed to Sirone like the footsteps of a lion drawing nearer. Summoning his internal courage, he attempted a horizontal strike.

“Two!” Once again, Lian effortlessly parried, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

A lump formed in Sirone’s throat, but he steadied himself, entering a state of intense focus. Spirit Zone. As all the information fused through his senses, a spark of enlightenment struck like lightning.

Lian scoffed. Vertical slash, horizontal slash, vertical slash? Even for a novice, it would have been difficult not to block such a straightforward pattern. Lian deftly defended against Sirone’s attacks with the wooden sword, then took a step back. “Now, it’s my turn!” he shouted.

The center of the wooden sword Lian held snapped, and Sirone’s wooden sword also shattered. Wood fragments flew, brushing past Lian’s astonished face.

“Huh?” Swiftly regaining his composure, Lian took a few steps back to inspect the broken wooden sword. The edge was roughly splintered. This was characteristic of a weapon-destructive technique. When the force couldn’t escape and rebounded within, this was the result. “Did you just use... Sword Breaker?” Lian asked.

Sword Breaker was a weapon-destructive technique. In the realm of swordsmanship, just as cutting is essential, every school had weapon-destructive techniques. Within House Ojent, this discipline was known as Sword Breaker, a technique handed down through generations as a sacred oath. The grandiose name wasn’t given merely due to its strength.

In a duel, the absorption and redirection of force were just as crucial as the application of force itself. For Sword Breaker to succeed, one needed to perfectly gauge the concentration of impact and the timing of the opponent’s response.

Lian was astonished. From birth, even with a sword in hand, he had never successfully executed Sword Breaker against someone else. Most troubling of all was that he was the only one in the family who hadn’t mastered it. “Who are you? Where did you learn swordsmanship?”

Sirone dropped the broken wooden sword. The gamble paid off. With the first strike, he felt the rhythm, and with the second, he calculated the opponent’s timing. And with the third, he unleashed Thunderstrike, the skill he had honed countless times over three years. “I’ve never learned swordsmanship!”

“Shut up! You wretched fool! Then how did you use Sword Breaker? If you’re mocking me, I won’t stand for it!”

“This is called Thunderstrike.”

“Thunderstrike?”

“My father is a hunter. Growing up in the mountains, I also pitched in with logging from a young age. Due to my smaller build, I had to rely on technique to fell trees, and that’s how I naturally picked up this skill. Lumberjacks call it ‘Thunderstrike.’”

Lian’s mind was a whirl of confusion. A hunter? Lumberjacks? Logging? What on earth is he talking about? I’ve been wielding a sword for fifteen years. It’s not a skill you can simply equate to chopping firewood. Among my peers, not a single person has succeeded in mastering Sword Breaker. Even if there were, they would be very few.

Lian’s mind brought forth the face of one person, Lye Ojent. Lye was the second son of House Ojent and two years older than Lian. He was hailed as a prodigy in swordsmanship, regarded as the most talented in the family’s history. Lian clenched his fist as if his older brother’s ghost were taunting him.

Damn it. At the tender age of twelve, Lye successfully mastered Sword Breaker for the first time. It was a momentous occasion for the family, and his father had thrown a lavish party that lasted for a week. Lian vividly remembered the emotions of that day. And now, he had been surpassed even by a woodsman’s child.

“I can’t accept this!” Lian swung his wooden sword, banishing the image of Lye his mind had concocted. He had truly given it his all and swung the sword a thousand, even ten thousand times, endlessly trying to achieve Sword Breaker. Lian couldn’t fathom why

Sirone was able to do it while he couldn’t. “Master Lian, the reason I had no choice back then—”

“Shut up!” he interrupted. “It’s not over yet! No one has won yet!” Lian headed toward the outskirts of the training ground. In the place where various weapons were stored, he returned with an elegant longsword used by nobles.

Seeing a real sword, Sirone felt an ominous shiver run down his spine. The sound of water echoed as the drawn sword absorbed the torchlight, gleaming like molten lava. After checking the blade’s condition, Lian put it back in its sheath and threw it to Sirone.

Taking a step closer, Sirone received it in his hands and lifted his head, as if unable to comprehend what was happening.

“Both weapons are broken, so we can’t determine a winner,” Lian said with a finger pointed at him. “If you’ve truly mastered Sword Breaker, then you deserve an appropriate reward. One month from now, we will settle the score here with real swords.”

Sirone’s stomach sank. The solution he thought of to get him out of this mess had made the situation even more detrimental. Dueling with a wooden sword and a real sword were two different stories. Moreover, Lian wasn’t going to give him three chances this time. I might actually die. For the first time, he felt the terror of death, and in his mind, he saw the faces of his parents.

“Master Lian, please reconsider! I’ve never learned swordsmanship!”

“That’s why I’m giving you time. You claim you mastered Sword Breaker while chopping wood, but I don’t believe you. However, if that’s true and you’re that skilled, you should be able to manage learning within a month.”

Lian didn’t think the deadline was unreasonable since it would have been possible for Lye Ojent to learn from scratch in the same amount of time. As he imagined Lye’s specter around Sirone again, he thought his loss might have been due to a lack of determination. With a real sword and our lives on the line this time, the difference in skill might not be that great.

“Don’t even think about running away. Regardless of my personal feelings, I’m determined to surpass you, no matter what.”

Lian’s final words felt like anchors on Sirone’s feet.