The Beginning of a Journey

The twelve companions who passed through me all rose to become the strongest of their era.

And as for me—

I knew all of their swordsmanship.

After I gained self-awareness, I was able to feel the senses of the humans who gripped me.

Their five senses were transmitted to me exactly as they were.

Thus,
every time they wielded me, I could fully sense the level of mastery each had achieved in swordsmanship.

Those who used the swift sword, those who used the domineering sword.

Those who moved according to calculated plan, those who fought by instinct.

Those who valued formality, those who enjoyed change.

Those who exploited an opponent's movement, those who created their own flow.

Everyone's swordsmanship was different.

Like that, they wielded me, expressing their valor—

and I absorbed their swordsmanship, gradually becoming stronger.

I raised my head fully.

Tap.

I caught, with my bare hand, the foot flying toward my head.

"What, what the hell! You bastard! Aren't you going to let go?"

The guy whose foot was caught hurriedly pulled his leg back.

He was the one who tattled to Dylan earlier when Bastian and I were making noise.

The weight shift from pulling his foot back was natural.

The next part was simple.

As I released his foot, I lightly flicked the underside of his foot with my palm.

With his weight moving backward and my strike added, he toppled over just like that.

Thud!

"You bastard!"

Another guy pulled his foot back and then swung it at me with great force.

Apparently, he tried to kick me hard, but because he exaggerated his stance, there were hundreds of openings.

I even wondered which of the many openings I should go for.

The deliberation didn't last long.

I stretched out my right leg and spun my body.

His kicking missed me by a hair's breadth.

My right leg swept out the leg he was standing on.

Ka-thud!

His body spun dramatically midair and crashed to the floor.

Crunch.

I stomped on his face and leaped into the air.

I heard the sound of his nose bone breaking beneath my feet.

Though I'd realized how to breathe along with nature from an early age,
this was still only the body of a twelve-year-old kid.

The leap wasn't as quick or high as I wanted.

Still—

it was enough to shock all the would-be bandits inside this barrack, all teenagers.

I saw Dylan, running over with a long wooden stick he had gotten from somewhere.

In a fight against many,
of course, the order is to kill the boss first.

Thud, thud.

Stepping on the shoulders and heads of the flustered, flailing guys, I charged at Dylan.

Foolish Dylan slowed his run and took up a defensive stance.

Stupid eyes, stupid expression.

Stupid stance.

The outcome would have been the same anyway,

but if he wanted even a slightly better chance of survival, he should have kept charging and swung that club.

Stupid guy.

The hand holding that club must surely reek.

Whoosh.

The belatedly swung club—
dull, slow, and lacking any real strength.

That idiot Dylan must have put all his strength into his arm and hand holding the club.

That doesn't generate power for a weapon.

I ducked my head lightly.

The club just grazed the back of my head.

I clenched my fist.

Smack!

I punched Dylan's jaw.

Stagger.

With just one punch from a twelve-year-old kid, his eyes rolled back, showing only the whites.

Back in my sword days—
my sixth companion among the twelve,
talking with Eiker came to mind.

― Why did you stop?

"When the opponent is unable to resist, I do not attack any further."

― Why?

"What do you mean, why? I'm a soldier who values honor. I only fight those who can still fight back."

Eiker—

He was a good guy, and I didn't dislike him.

But—

he wasn't much fun.

And because of that strange principle, he nearly got killed several times.

Didn't fit with me.

I grabbed Dylan's right cheek as he toppled backward.

He was already unconscious from the hit to his jaw.

Didn't matter.

Like this—

Bang!

"Your eyes, your expression, your stance, every choice—were the ultimate in stupidity, Dylan."

I smashed his face into the ground.

His face caved in, spraying blood everywhere.

"What, what the hell!"

"Is he dead?"

"What's with Evan? What on earth happened?!"

I slowly stood and looked around at the bandits inside the lodging.

There were two kinds of people here.

The ones who got stomped with me.

The ones who stomped on me every night.

They all had equally stupid faces.

But tonight, they were divided.

The living—

and the dead.

* * *

Crunch!

Only one guy was left.

Whether from fear or not, his pants were soaking wet.

His trembling legs finally gave out under his weight and he collapsed.

He sat on the floor, begging as he met my eyes.

"S-spare me...."

Crack!

I drove my knee into the filthy mouth begging for mercy.

All his front teeth were broken.

"Urrgh!"

I grabbed the back of his head with both hands.

Then—

Crack!

I slammed my knee into his face even harder.

Once more.

Crunch!

And again.

Crunch!

Collapse.

It was over.

Barely ten minutes.

That's how long it took to turn all the guys who had beaten and stomped me every night for the past week into corpses.

Guilt.

Emotional turmoil.

There was none of that.

I'd lived an ordinary childhood for twelve years,
but my years as a sword lasted over a millennium.

A moment later,
Bastian approached, trembling in both legs.

He stepped carefully, dodging the blood-covered corpses scattered around.

As expected—
truly, he had guts.

The other living ones were pressed up against the far wall, shivering.

"What is this... Are you really the Evan I knew?"

"Yes."

"Just who are you, really?"

"I'm the Evan you know."

"No, seriously, how did you defeat all these older guys...?"

If you ask, "Could you kill them?"—then you're disqualified as a companion.

"... Did you win?"

You passed for now.

"Of course, the strong defeat the weak."

"The strong, huh... Then let me ask one more thing. Why did you just take those beatings for a week?"

"Because they hit me. I got hit."

Bastian raised his hands and ruffled his own hair.

"What are you even saying? You're strong. By your logic, the strong defeat the weak. So why just let it happen? Didn't it hurt? Wasn't it unpleasant?"

It didn't hurt.
It wasn't really unpleasant.
In this world, there are plenty of experts I can't face yet in a twelve-year-old's body, but these guys weren't them.

My goal here was simply to lie low for a week.

Their beatings did nothing to me, physically or mentally.

"They were too insignificant. Didn't hurt, didn't bother me."

"Then you could've just shown the supervisor what you could do! You had plenty of chances. With those skills, you could be the squad leader or something!"

He was more curious than I expected.

"My goal was only to stay quiet inside the bandit camp for a week. The principle that follows is to avoid troublesome things."

"I don't get a single word you're saying, damn it. Evan, just think about what's next. What now? At dawn, we have roll call. What will we do?"

"Escape, of course. I still can't beat the bandit boss."

"Escape? How? What about the guards and sentries?"

Dozens of those lackeys could all come at me at once, I'd be fine.

"I can break through. You're coming with me, right? Bastian."

"Huh?"

"You said you wanted to be a military officer. Stay here and you might die tomorrow."

It was time to begin the long journey.

Those who killed my parents and destroyed my family—

I didn't know who they were.

I didn't know their organization's size.

All I knew—

was that I'd need much more time to face them.

I was just starting my journey before coming of age.

I'd just get stronger that much faster.

And once I learned who they really were and grew strong enough to beat them—

I'd send every last one to hell.

* * *

Except for Bastian, no one else followed me.

Even though it was clear there'd be a reckoning at sunrise for killing all the seniors—

despite the risk they might be executed to take the blame—

they chose to stay.

At this rate,
they were no different from the corpses strewn across the barracks.

If you do nothing, what are you but a corpse?

The only difference from the true corpses was—

they were shivering ones.

"Bastian. Duck your head."

"Huh?"

I grabbed the back of Bastian's head and pulled it down.

Shwick!

An arrow zipped over Bastian's back and thudded into the ground.

Now, torches were lit around the bandit camp, and noise was erupting everywhere.

I immediately leaped over to start climbing the watchtower's column.

"Bastian, crouch in the shadows and wait until my signal."

Ah, this pitifully weak body.

The humans who wielded me as a sword back then were so strong, I'd never imagined the human body could be this fragile.

Of course it'll improve, but it's inconvenient right now.

I should be able to reach this height in a single leap.

Climbing up the pillar, I made it to the top of the watchtower.

Two bandits stood guard. They spotted me and swung an axe and a sword.

A rusty axe and a chipped sword.

Unbelievable.

How dare they, in front of me—

and call those things weapons.

Wham.

The axe chopped vertically down.

I shifted my body sideways; the axe embedded into the watchtower floor.

I struck upward at the wrist holding the axe.

"Aaargh!"

Such an easy weapon to lose.

It was so ridiculous, I almost laughed.

The guys in the barracks were only trainees, but—

this one was an adult, and he's letting go of his weapon in combat?
No basics at all.

That's the skill level of the bandit group that put this guy on watch.

Except for the bandit boss, of course.

And sometimes that branch manager guy who comes and goes.

I gripped the bandit's axe with two hands and yanked it out of the ground.

Meanwhile, the other guy swung his sword.

A sword with all its teeth gone.

I still couldn't overpower them.

I angled the rusty axe diagonally and deflected the chipped sword aside.

As the off-balance bandit staggered,
I spun my body the other way.

With the centrifugal force, the rusty axe—

Crunch!

—bit deep into the side of the guy wearing thick leather armor.

"Keugh!"

I snatched the sword from him and stabbed the one who had dropped the axe straight in the solar plexus.

"Ugh!"

I quickly released the chipped sword hilt.

I didn't even want to hold such a sword.

'The axe is better.'

I yanked the axe from the bandit's body and tucked it into my belt.

"Bastian, you can come up now."

"Uph!"

Seemed Bastian was already halfway up the watchtower.

No sooner had I called than he popped up beside me.

"I told you to wait below until my signal."

Bastian looked over at the two collapsed bandits.

"I just thought you might be in danger alone, so I wanted to help..."

Yeah.

That's what a companion should do.

"But Evan, you really... I mean, those in the barracks might've just been trainees, but you beat actual bandits with weapons? Climbed up here barehanded? Even though it was two against one?"

"So, good thing you became my companion, right?"

After a moment's thought, Bastian nodded vigorously.

"Yeah!"

That's the spirit.

"All right. Now, we're going to jump that wall and into the brush."

"W-what? Isn't that pretty far?"

"If you think that's far, how long's the road to becoming an officer?"

"Huh? Evan, why are you talking like that all of a sudden?"