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Chapter 54 : A Token of Thanks
Chapter 54: A Token of Thanks
Cain’s eyes held just the faintest trace of heat, yet overall, they still remained lukewarm.
Looking into those eyes—as if everything in the world was trivial and dull—was enough to leave me feeling rather foul.
“A little... bothersome.”
Cain muttered as if he found it all tedious.
Wе̊bṅ о̌.v еl Е̇ǹüm̊ а
But the swordsmanship that began to unfold was anything but boring.
Kang!
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It was dazzling.
He wasn’t some kind of magician, and yet...
‘How can Aura be wielded so freely...?’
It stretched long, then thickened.
Е̊ ńú mã.і̆ d̊
It bent, disappeared, and suddenly reappeared.
Each relentless strike was a complex riddle in itself.
‘Interesting.’
And so, my heart beat all the faster.
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My goal at this moment was singular.
To analyze the realm of a Grandmaster.
Ѐ n̄um̌а . ì.d̀
Countless pieces of information piled up in just a short span of time.
First,
the Soul Blade could manipulate surrounding mana and aura at will.
Because of that, ordinary aura before the Soul Blade vanished like a candle’s flame before the wind.
But that much, I could endure with my Sword Energy and Aura Blade.
Second,
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The Soul Blade did not disappear.
Ka-ga-ga-gang!
Even when I forced the surging Soul Blade back with Banroa,
even when I barely dodged,
even when I struck at a weakness in its long extension and shattered it,
the Soul Blade did not vanish.
En u̇ m̃ а
Light-green serpents spilled from his sword, floating lazily around me, further and further restricting my movements.
‘The Soul Blade holds an overwhelming tactical advantage.’
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Not only could its form change freely, but its trajectory lingered in the air, pressing down on me.
Yet even this, I could withstand through the Stage of Sword Support.
Here, I held on like this.
There, wasn’t there a path like that?
Е nŭ m̈ а. i̊ d̈
Now! Danger!
I conversed ceaselessly with my sword, opening the way forward.
And surprisingly,
it was enjoyable.
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A flood of difficult problems,
and me, solving them one after another.
W̊е b̀ n̆ о́ v̌ еl Ӗ_n̄ümа̇.
That feeling of every fiber of my body, every corner of my mind, awakening.
Had I always been capable of this much?
The rapture tasted beyond my limits!
This wasn’t the end, was it?
He was a Grandmaster, after all.
There had to be more.
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A spreading smile.
Cain Manus’s ashen eyes slowly swept over the corners of my lips.
He didn’t look particularly pleased.
Jjjjeeeong!
Just after I deflected Cain Manus’s sword once more,
he murmured.
Е́ǹu_ma
“...Here I come.”
A murderous glint flickered in his dry pupils.
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Something truly massive was coming.
Rumble—!
I heard the growl of thunder.
‘Ah...!’
Е̌ň_u_m̊а̇
A wave of green light crashed down toward me.
Not only Cain’s sword that surged before my eyes, but even the Soul Blades that had remained afloat and intact until just a moment ago—all of them moved as one, aiming straight for me.
All the sword strikes up until now had been nothing but preparation for this single, all-out blow!
The smell of the air burning stung my nose.
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Every fine hair on my body stood on end.
Hoo-uk!
Е̄n̄ůmа
I exhaled sharply and wrung every drop of power from my Aura Core.
Charge Technique [Tempest]
Kwaaaang!
The world compressed right in front of me.
Kicking up a backlash, I instead charged head-on into the pouring storm of light-green Aura Blades.
‘Cut it.’
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The aura I pushed up from my legs stirred the core.
Nearly a third of the aura stored in the core surged out at once.
It rushed past my chest, through my arms, and into my sword.
The key at this moment was—
to keep the aura condensed in icy stillness, only to boil and vaporize it all at once at the tip of my blade.
Royal Swordsmanship of Banroa, the Finishing Sword.
Ènù mа̇ . ĭ d̊
[Executioner]
Jjjeeeoong!
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Aura erupted in a detonation, unleashing tremendous force. Deep-blue aura carved away a corner of the storm of light-green aura.
Like curtains being split apart, I hurled myself through the narrow opening toward that fleeting gap of life.
Rrrrrumble—
Thunder behind me faded away.
Е̊ ń ům̌ а̄
Having slipped past Cain Manus’s left side, I slowly turned my back.
There—
a distinct expression appeared on Cain Manus’s face.
“...You evaded?”
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Annoyance. Rage. Irritation. Displeasure.
Raw emotions carved onto features that, until now, had only carried boredom.
Ѐ n̊ um а̂
Well?
Now it was getting interesting, wasn’t it?
I was enjoying it too.
It had been exactly the fifth exchange.
He had said if I endured through five bouts, I would be deemed to have passed. On this fifth strike, he had gone all in.
Which meant—
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I had passed.
And yet—
And yet, I was still parched with thirst.
Had he read that in me?
“Tch.”
He clicked his tongue irritably and swung his sword again.
W е̂b n̆о ṽ еl Е ňu m̀а
Flash! The middle transition was invisible.
Suddenly, a light-green Soul Blade flared right before my eyes.
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A strike of absolute swiftness!
Jjjeeeoong!
‘Whoa, how did I block that?’
It was so fast that even I was shocked at myself.
Еň üm̃ã
Wuung, wuung—
Banroa trembled, and so did I.
‘This fast?’
I had never seen anything like it. In truth, I hadn’t even seen it—only blocked it on pure instinct.
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No time to catch my breath; the next attack followed.
Kuuuung!
Еń u m а_
This time a slow vertical slash descended. But instead, it carried the weight of a mountain.
“Urgh...!”
The moment I received it, bile surged up my throat. The overwhelming weight packed into that vertical strike clutched every last muscle fiber in my body.
Cain’s eyes were the same as ever.
Feigning indifference and boredom, yet inside, they burned with irritation and fury.
‘Block me? Dare?’
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It almost felt as if I had heard those words—an illusion born in my mind—
when the third strike came down.
Swaeeaaeee—
This time, it was my ears that sensed danger first.
That ear-splitting noise, like something plummeting from an impossible height, rang out—then Cain’s sword path twisted along an impossible trajectory to target me.
Kaaaang!
Е̇.ṅû m̃ а..і̊ d
A chill shot through me!
Even as I deflected his blade, goosebumps erupted all across my skin.
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‘If I’d been even slightly less refined... I would’ve just died.’
The only reason I survived that strike was because I was a Swordmaster who had transcended.
The sharpened senses, concentration, and reaction speed I’d gained through Rebirth of the Flesh, combined with the Stage of Sword Support and the wealth of battle experience I had built up—only by uniting all of this could I barely withstand that one blow.
Cain didn’t seem pleased that I had blocked it. His ashen eyes sank into an even gloomier shade.
Wе b n̂ov̂ ѐ l_ Е̄ n̈ ū.ḿа́
Suddenly, I felt a cold dread.
‘There’s more?’
The realm of a Grandmaster—it was like peeling an onion layer by layer, with no end in sight.
My confidence, which had reached the heavens, cracked—just a little, but enough to notice.
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Jjjeong! Jjeong! Kaaaang! Kiraaaang!
Fast, then heavy. Fierce, then curved. A feint that missed only to strike elsewhere....
Е n̊ u m̂ a .і̆ d̊
Every conceivable kind of sword technique burst forth from Cain’s hands.
I stepped back again and again, blocking and dodging.
It was a time of total mobilization—of senses, of instinct, even of sheer luck.
‘More? Still? There’s more?’
And yet—
I blocked.
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I deflected.
I even evaded.
Bit by bit, I grew accustomed.
Accustomed to myself.
My limits lay far, far beyond what I had thought.
‘It’s the synergy of Rebirth of the Flesh and Ancient Swordsmanship.’
E nu̇ mа
The power of a body that had surpassed human limits, infused with the edge and spirit of the sword itself.
That unimaginable synergy was what allowed me to endure now.
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Banroa and I marveled at each other as we clashed against Cain’s sword.
Ten exchanges.
Fifteen.
And at last, the thirtieth exchange—
W̆ é b.n̆о v̂ ѐl̆ Е n̄u̇m̌а̂
“So tedious....”
Cain’s face twisted violently as he slashed his blade diagonally upward from below.
Kwaaaaang!
Like my own [Executioner], it was an aura strike that detonated in a single instant with devastating force.
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Jjjeeeoong—!
“Khup...!”
Ẽnumа
The moment I blocked it, my chest roared in pain and the taste of iron filled my mouth.
Banroa was knocked upward by the surge.
So this was a Grandmaster—able to unleash such a Finishing Sword without even the slightest preparation?
But even that wasn’t the real strike.
The true fangs aimed at me came crashing down from above.
Kwaaaarung!
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With a thunderous crash, a bolt of light-green aura struck toward the crown of my head like a lightning bolt.
Chill!
Goosebumps spread across my whole body.
Why had his sword been slashed upward from below, and yet the aura fell down on my head?
Was he a magician?
I had already poured everything into blocking the strike rising from beneath....
Е̄nu̇ m а̂
I couldn’t block this one.
“It’s over.”
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At the very instant, a satisfied smile ghosted across Cain’s lips,
I chose to trust in my sword—Banroa.
Uuuuuung!
Banroa cried out.
È ňu m̊ ӑ . їd
In an instant, my Sword Energy flared like a blaze.
Mana surged in from every direction, flowed through Banroa, and converted into aura, unfurling above me like an umbrella.
Jjjjeeeeoong!
The transparent aura born of Banroa clashed against the lightning-like downpour of light-green aura overhead, creating a majestic aurora in the sky.
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What Banroa created was not the deep-blue aura of Iron Heart. I hadn’t managed to reclaim the enlightenment that had once carried me into Rebirth of the Flesh.
The unity of sword and self, the fleeting realm of Peak Expert I had tasted in that selfless trance, had scattered like a dream upon waking.
Ê nu m̌ ӑ ..і̇ ď
I was still, by ancient measure, only a High-grade Expert.
Even so, a faint trace of that enlightenment remained.
Though the sword could not yet forge the iron-souled, deep-blue aura on its own, it could still produce an immense surge of its own unique transparent aura.
That was what saved me.
The light-green aurora above me scattered.
And now—it was my turn.
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Perhaps that last strike had been Cain’s trump card, for he stood there wide-eyed, momentarily blank.
“What the...?”
I did not waste that opening.
Though the aura in my core was nearly drained, though my battered chest hindered its flow—
when there are no teeth, one must chew with the gums.
With Banroa shrouded in nothing but pure Ancient Sword Energy, I thrust straight for Cain’s extended wrist.
Е n̈umа. і̆ ď
Swaaak!
The blade cut only through air.
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Cain had already withdrawn, leaping back.
Murderous intent boiled in his eyes.
“You....”
The chilling voice slipped past his lips. That first look of boredom and tedium was nowhere to be found.
Ẃ e b n о̇v̌е̂ l̇ Ё nu m̆ ä
I was satisfied.
‘I’ve seen it all.’
So much that my chest burned.
They often said a Swordmaster wielded enough power to rule a province, and a Grandmaster bore strength enough to establish a nation.
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Today, I had seen that truth with my very own eyes.
‘Stronger than I had imagined.’
Еn ū m̌а̄_
Originally, I had planned to break Cain’s sword—but I hadn’t managed to go that far.
So then,
This was far enough for today.
My aura was already flickering on the edge, while Cain still looked fresh and unscathed.
Fighting any longer would only put me at a disadvantage.
It would merely expose my hand.
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“I’ll kill you...!”
Cain looked utterly furious.
If left alone, he would surely rush at me again.
“Take this.”
So I quickly threw the scrap of cloth in my hand toward him.
I hadn’t managed to break his sword, but I had claimed this instead.
É ṅ ũ m.ȧ. і̀ d
“...This?”
You don’t recognize it?
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Wordlessly, I pointed at his sleeve.
Cain’s face flushed red.
Because a section of his sleeve had been sliced clean off.
It was the sleeve I had severed in that last instant when I had aimed for his wrist.
Ѐ ňù m̆ a.і ď
This was my token of thanks.
“A fitting gift for a death god who knows nothing of courtesy, don’t you think? A Grandmaster’s severed sleeve—surely a rare treasure? That’s my token of thanks, so make sure to deliver it properly to the Emperor.”
Crack.
It sounded as though a molar had snapped somewhere.
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Cain glared at me for a long while, then, without a single word, he clutched the severed sleeve tightly and left the audience chamber.
Yes. He had to endure. He might want to kill me, but he couldn’t. Even if he was a bit stronger than me, the difference wasn’t overwhelming, and this place was crawling with my subordinates.
Е ṅū m̊ а̇
I quietly watched Cain’s back as he departed, his fury blazing, then—
“Ugh, I’m dying here....”
Only once his presence had fully disappeared did I collapse to the floor.
“Are you all right?”
“My Lord! Are you unharmed?”
Katrina and Rivera rushed toward me in a panic.
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I waved them off.
I had too much to think about right now.
‘A Grandmaster really is a monster.’
I used to think that perhaps the realm of a Grandmaster was the realm of communing with a Sword Spirit.
But it wasn’t that at all.
From what I saw today, the modern Grandmaster had nothing to do with Sword Spirits. They were simply beings who pushed aura to its absolute limits.
W е̄ b̈n̆о̀ṽ ё ľ_ Ė n̊ ü mӓ
And by wielding aura to its extremes, they became superhumans capable of feats that looked like magic. That was the true essence of a Grandmaster.
‘Right. So I understand what they are now\....’
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If a Swordmaster pushed the mana within their body to the utmost, then a Grandmaster freely controlled not only the mana within, but also the mana outside their body.
That much, I had confirmed.
But the problem was—
‘So then, how does one actually reach that realm?’
Еn̂ümа̃
I couldn’t figure out the method.
‘This is giving me a headache.’
I had no clue how to train in order to approach that realm.
I ran a hand through my hair.
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There was no point in dwelling on it. For now, I simply didn’t have enough information.
‘At times like this, I should just do what I can right now.’
Ën u m̆ а .і̄d̆
If the Empire was interested in me, and if the Empire’s Grandmaster was that strong...
Then there was only one thing for me to do.
To become stronger—as quickly as possible.
‘The Book of Fate. I’ll use it now.’
At last, the time had ripened.
* * *
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Rokshutalen Galotin.
The Emperor of the Galotin Empire, ruler of one-third of Gloryland, master over another third through vassal states, and the last third forced to tread carefully under his shadow.
He looked to be in an exceptionally good mood at this moment.
“Cain. Cain, what was it you said again? ‘There’s no need for me to go there...’? But was it really ‘need’? Maybe you meant ‘fatigue’? How exhausted must you have been to return with your sleeve cut off?”
That remark—if it had been intended as a joke—was so horrific it would have made one question the speaker’s very wits.
Cain, prostrated before the Emperor, forced an awkward smile.
W̆ е b̌n ò ṽè l Е n̂ û m̀ à
At once, the Emperor’s face hardened.
“You’re laughing?”
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“M-my apologies.”
Cain hastily bowed his head.
The arrogance and boredom he had shown before Ransen were nowhere to be found now.
The tremor in his eyes betrayed his fear.
Ӗ n̄ u m̀а
—It was a common saying that a Grandmaster need not bow their head even before an Emperor.
Yet the scene unfolding in the imperial hall was the very opposite of that rumor.
“Still, it is amusing, isn’t it? When else would your clothes ever be cut to ribbons? Your neck, perhaps, but not your clothes. Isn’t that so?”
As Rokshutalen spoke, his violet eyes gleamed coldly.
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They looked as though they were asking, Shall I sever that neck of yours right now?
Cain shuddered.
W е̂bn о̆ v̂ ѐ l E_ṅ u m а
It wasn’t death he feared.
It was because the Emperor was one from whom not even death could grant escape.
Just as Cain hurriedly lowered his head to the floor to beg forgiveness—
“You’re not laughing?”
The Emperor’s voice reached him.
Cain quickly raised his head.
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And forced his lips into a strained smile.
“Ha... ha-ha....”
Only then did Rokshutalen allow a small smile himself, before turning his attention away from Cain.
Instead, he flipped through a report.
If its contents were true, Ransen clearly knew the exact use of the heart.
Far from being flustered, he had been overjoyed, and he had sealed it with ‘magic’ to enshrine within the ‘chapel’.
Ёṅ ùḿ а
‘That’s sufficient proof, at least.’
Rokshutalen murmured.
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“So, the line of ‘It’ has continued. After Delkash, then Kxias. And now, Ransen?”
At that, the man standing respectfully behind him bent at the waist and spoke.
“But, Your Majesty, Ransen is still a remnant of Banroa....”
“I know. But he’s been enthralled by ‘It,’ hasn’t he? To such a man, nation, love, and family mean nothing. Did not our own ‘Father’ prove that himself?”
Wеb n̈о̃vеl̂ Е̄ n̄ uma
At the Emperor’s mention of his father, all those present in the great hall flinched.
Only the man standing behind dared to carefully continue.
“Then, what support should we provide Ransen...?”
“Support? Why? We must resolve to kill him, of course.”
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“Pardon? But if he follows ‘It,’ then surely he is aligned with us—”
Rokshutalen cut him off with a wave of his hand.
Ѐ.n̊um а
“If he were a long-term piece, like Kxias or Delkash, perhaps. But....”
The scrap of sleeve Cain had delivered fluttered from his hand and fell.
“He sent us this as a token, didn’t he? Then we must also do our utmost. If one dares to flaunt allegiance to ‘It,’ he must devour chaos, not be devoured by it.”
Before the Emperor’s throne—
a vast table bore a map of Norberju.
Not one of the populated places like Kushan City or Kashu City, but a map marked only with the Ashen Lands, lands uninhabitable to man.
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“Let us prepare something grander. For our new recruit—who may yet become a comrade.”
Rokshutalen’s violet eyes sparkled like those of a child who had found a delightful new toy.
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