Chapter 7

In the Martial World, those who first grasp a real sword are called low-level warriors, and in Shierun, they are called Sword Beginners.

When one has swung a sword a thousand times, their hands calloused and rough, they become a Third-rate Warrior, a Sword User.

If one can then claim to handle a sword somewhat and simultaneously face five Third-rate Warriors, they are considered a Second-rate Warrior, a Sword Expert, ranging from lower to middle tier.

From there, if they can manifest internal energy, or aura, they are classified as a First-rate Warrior, a Sword Expert of the upper tier.

To be able to freely manifest this internal energy and strike an opponent is the stage of a Peak Master, the highest tier of Sword Expert.

And then, the stage where one gains enlightenment and can imbue their sword with sword energy.

That is called Transcendent Peak, a Sword Master.

That was the position I barely managed to occupy, even if only at the lowest rung, in my past life.

In my current life, I have only just crossed the threshold from First-rate to Peak. It was early for a thirteen-year-old body, but it was not a particularly great feat, as I was walking a path I had already trod.

I had never experienced the world above Transcendent Peak.

It had been a long time since I couldn’t gauge an opponent’s realm with my eyes. Though I had always held a sword, it was because I had long since left the Dosan Sword Forest of the Martial World.

More than ten years ago, a path that led into the jaws of death. My position in the Martial Arts Alliance was fifty-eighth.

This was because the sect leaders and elders, direct disciples, and the two elders known as the ‘Banner’ and ‘Chaser’ of the Kaebang, along with the heads and direct blood relatives of the five noble families—Moyong Sega, Hebei Peng family, Sacheon Danga, Jegal Sega, and Namgung Family—who possessed Transcendent Peak or higher martial prowess, numbered exactly fifty-seven, from the West to Kunlun, Gongdong, Qingcheng, Ami, Diancang, Jongnam, Huashan, Wudang, and Shaolin, the nine major sects.

However, even among those comparable positions, there were always stars that shone uniquely bright.

Jang Mu-hyeon, the Alliance Leader and Number One Sword of Wudang, was considered the foremost among them. Within the Martial Arts Alliance, Huashan and Namgung boasted one additional Hwagyeong master each.

At their slightest gesture, the heavens roared and the earth overturned.

The Energy Sword Control, where dozens of swords floated on their own to slay people; the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique, which used a single sword as a plum blossom branch, its sword energy blooming like petals to slaughter hundreds lined up for dozens of yards in a single breath; the Monarch Sword Style, where ten knelt with one step and two hundred sobbed and groaned with two steps.

They etched their dazzling epithets and names into the minds and hearts of all Martial Artists in the Martial World.

They were not humans, but gods descended to the mortal realm.

I wanted to become like them.

Was it a desire to become a god while possessing a human body, or the competitive spirit of a martial artist who grasped a sword from birth?

Or perhaps it was envy of the Rising Stars of my age, who, from childhood, downed spiritual medicines like rice and alcohol, and were constantly massaged and struck by elders to facilitate the flow of internal energy and true energy, thereby earning the names of the Five Dragons and Three Peaks?

It was unclear.

However, on the day I died, and even after being reborn, my desire remained one thing.

A master of Hwagyeong.

I wanted to at least touch with my fingertips that impossibly high realm, where one could tilt their head back until their shoulders ached and their chin lifted, with nothing obstructing their view.

Even if my fingernails tore off and my entire body was crushed while climbing a cliff ten thousand jang high, I wished to see its end even once.

The realm of Hwagyeong was also called Return to Origin. It was a state where, having reached an extremely high level and mastered martial arts, one appeared like an ordinary commoner.

Jang Mu-hyeon, the Number One Sword of Wudang, was like that, and Maelo Sanson, who now stood before my eyes, was exactly the same.

When I enhanced my Eye Force to observe, his Sun Points were flat, his expression was gentle, and from his sturdy shoulders to his torso and down to his feet, everything was perfectly balanced, with no wasted exertion.

The man with golden hair, who looked like an ordinary middle-aged person, possessed such a quiet yet dazzling aura.

Observing an opponent is the manifestation of internal energy. It is the movement of Qi. From the moment I heightened my Qi sense, I knew Maelo Sanson had recognized me and was looking my way, yet I could not tear my gaze away.

A master of Hwagyeong.

I was so overjoyed that I couldn’t hold back. This was a fortunate encounter. I believed there would be no other like it.

“You’ve got quite the presence before class even begins, Michael Ernhardt.”

“Yes!”

“No, I meant don’t look at me like you’re going to devour me… Well, some of you might have known my name upon hearing it among the new students… and some, like our youngest here, might have recognized me by sight. I am rather famous, aren’t I?”

“Yes!”

“…There is one more Grand Sword Master in the Imperial Knight Order, but that individual is not suited to teach anyone. That is why I am specially living at the academy for the future of the Empire and for all of you.”

“Yes!”

“Simple instruction is possible during your time in the Martial Arts Training Ground, so feel free to seek me out if needed. However, if you come to find me, you should abandon any thoughts of taking it easy.”

“Yes!”

The answer was only from me, the first, second, and last time. A few students chuckled softly, and a few others straightened their backs to follow me, gazing intently at Sanson.

The thought of honing my skills under such a magnificent master made my chest swell with excitement.

Maelo Sanson carefully observed the students, then looked at me once more, and used Telekinesis to place the handouts he held in his hand before the students.

Telekinesis! And so effortlessly, as if breathing! I was almost beside myself.

The first page of the handout clearly listed the classes available to Swordsmanship Department students.

Beneath each class name, the professor’s name and course content were written in small print. Before I even thought about it, I picked up my pen and wrote down Basic Swordsmanship and Advanced Swordsmanship on the timetable on the second page.

I didn’t want to miss even a single second of the opportunity to be personally taught by a master of Hwagyeong.

Maelo Sanson’s expression showed a hint of displeasure, which I could naturally perceive with his Hwagyeong Eye Force.

However, I was already feeling a pang of regret that this opportunity would only last for three years, so I pretended not to notice.

Maelo Sanson verbally guided us through the classes listed on the handout, indicating which were mandatory, beneficial, or could be taken as a hobby, and then paused for a moment.

“From twelve to one o’clock is lunch break, so there are no classes then. I’ll be eating too, so don’t come looking for me.”

It was as if he was speaking directly to me. I smiled back, acting as innocent and good-natured a child as possible.

❖ ❖ ❖

Shayden Rose, who had just become my fellow student in the Swordsmanship Department, leaned his red head close and peered at my timetable.

He was sitting next to me, so he didn’t need to get this close. I wondered if his eyesight was poor.

Poor Eye Force would be a significant disadvantage in sword training, so I felt a little sympathetic and pushed my timetable towards him.

Shayden chattered away, helping me fill out my timetable.

I knew that conversing informally with a fellow student would make us appear close to others. It was even more so because he was already arbitrarily calling me by nicknames and pet names.

It must have been that I had permitted it at some point in a moment of distraction, so I didn’t correct him.

“You’re taking both Beginner and Advanced Swordsmanship? I was going to match my timetable with yours.”

“This kind of opportunity doesn’t come easily.”

“Well… that’s true. So, what other classes are you taking? You’ll have to take World History as a mandatory general education course… Etiquette classes are already finished with your home education, so they’re not necessary…”

“Magic and Spell Formula Principles: Basics.”

“Huh? Why would you take that?”

“I want to make friends with a wizard.”

“Huh?”

Perhaps because Shayden’s voice was too loud and high, I felt the gazes of other classmates turn towards Ikyun. I felt no shame and was unperturbed, so I said it once more.

“I want to make friends with a wizard.”

“No, so… you’re just going to try taking it? There are midterms, finals, and assignments. Can you handle it all?”

“I haven’t tried it yet.”

“Mika. Are you serious? The magic students entering the academy can do things like Iceball Memorize by the time they’re ten. It requires innate magic power…”

“I’m going to try, now.”

It is surprisingly easy to persuade someone who is unpersuadable. You just have to assert strongly or act first.

I don’t know myself whether I will do well or poorly. I replied firmly and filled out my timetable. Shayden hesitated for a moment, but then declared he would give up on matching his timetable with mine.

I thought it wouldn’t be boring with him around, but I also felt he might hinder me from making new friends, so I readily agreed.

And so, I easily finalized my first semester classes for the first year.

On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, from ten to twelve, it was Maelo Sanson’s Beginner Swordsmanship class, and on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, from ten to twelve, it was Maelo Sanson’s Advanced Swordsmanship class.

As expected of a martial artist of Hwagyeong, he maintained a rather regular schedule, excluding the two days off. It was something to emulate.

I pushed all other classes and general education courses, excluding swordsmanship, to the afternoon.

The moment I decided to leave Friday afternoon open, in case I felt the urge to call for Maelo Sanson, a tanned hand suddenly appeared before my eyes.

“Pleased to meet you, Young Master Ernhardt. My name is Benjamin Claudian. I am the third son of the Claudian Marquessate.”

❖ ❖ ❖

“Sir Sanson. Why the long face? I heard there are many talented individuals among the new students. How about that, the little pink-haired kid who enrolled early? I heard he started training in the practice field alone since he was five, declaring he’d become a Sword Master, even though no one asked him to.”

“…Cedric. Do you still have that sunscreen you made for blocking sunlight during class last year?”

“Uh? I think so? Why?”

“I was quite passionate as a child too… but this is the second time in my life I’ve had a disciple this crazy. He’s exactly like Little Kiadris. I’ll die before he does.”

“A Grand Sword Master doesn’t speak of dying so easily, no no. You should be happy when a shining star appears in the Empire.”

“I’m at an age where I’ll be retiring any day now, and such a young and strong friend has arrived…”