I Became the Teacher of the Imperial Family’s Bastard

020. Sword Master (1)

Thud!

The swords clashed.

But, Callios’ sword was too thin compared to the champion’s great sword.

In length, in thickness, and even in the force behind it.

**BOOM!**

Kallios’s body was momentarily lifted by the incoming force.

Immediately, the champion’s fist filled Kallios’s vision.

He raised his sword to defend.

But he couldn’t disperse all the impact.

**”Gah…!”**

Blood spewed out.

Kallios experienced his vision turning completely white for a moment, and he barely managed to regain his senses and lift his head.

His body was already in shambles.

His arms trembled.

Inside? It was already a mess. From the moment blood came out, a period of recuperation was not a choice but a necessity.

His mind was hazy, making normal judgment difficult.

Yet, Kallios was still trying to stand.

He had to protect the people.

He had to win somehow.

It wasn’t a thought filled with conviction.

The only thing that came to mind was the sword.

**’Can you see it?’**

A way to find the path.

‘The will…’

A way to fathom it.

He didn’t know when it started.

Despite reaching the stage of a duel, he was at an absolute disadvantage. His body was deteriorating every moment, and his sword path was becoming disordered.

By the time he realized it himself, there was no urgency left.

He just thought about it.

The sword technique of Yuren, which seemed visible yet invisible, and himself using it.

A natural-born swordsman, one might say.

But if he couldn’t find the answer, he would die as a foolish man.

The champion struck again.

Kallios clung to his hazy consciousness, drifting somewhere in his memory.

The sword was lifted, and he swung it following his memory.

His vision overlapped.

The training grounds of the plateau and the Dawn Palace, the figures of the champion and Yuren.

-Do you know why the Fearfire Technique is called the Fearfire Technique?

How did he answer?

…Yes.

-Because the flow of mana resembles flames, isn’t it? …Ah? Then is the Fearfire Technique a sword that embodies flames?! The key is the mana that burns hot and intense…

-You are wrong.

He was struck with a switch.

Yuren looked down at himself with a pitiful expression and said those words.

They were not pleasant words to hear.

“I told you. Imperial swordsmanship is barbaric and lacks aesthetics. It was merely a struggle for survival.”

“…Isn’t it the sword of the founding emperor?”

“Yes, the founding emperor created this sword by setting aside his pride. Solely to win.”

It was a story he didn’t want to acknowledge, but even so, Kallios couldn’t ignore it.

That’s why he remembered it.

“The Geomhwa style is a swordsmanship designed to defeat orcs. The founding emperor imbued this sword with hatred. Hatred to burn and distort the blood points and mana of the entire body. He said he put that method into this sword.”

This makes one think.

Perhaps, if the founding emperor, who was once a slave to the orcs, created this sword with the purpose of killing them.

If the orcs were such a detestable enemy to the founding emperor, who was once their slave.

Wouldn’t he have used the most vile and terrible methods to bring them down?

It was at that moment.

KWAANG!!!

The orc’s aura swallowed Kallios’s mana.

It felt as if the path of mana was burning.

It was too hot and painful.

So, one can’t help but think.

‘Why.’

Why must it hurt so much?

Why do they inflict this pain upon me?

It was murderous intent.

Kallios felt it.

Not understood, but felt.

There was a clear difference.

‘Damn orc.’

Grit, teeth clenched.

Bloodshot eyes stared directly into the orc’s pupils.

Humans realize that they are a more malicious species than they think.

So, it seemed that only by seeing those eyes twisted in pain would he be satisfied.

Manifestation of will.

Expressing it as mana.

All the prerequisites for the sword technique were created in a moment that Kallios himself did not realize.

Soon, Kallios let the great sword flow.

Not perfect due to the difference in strength, but enough to create an opening.

The inside of the elbow was exposed.

Cannot pierce that thick hide.

But, there was something that could be done.

Thud!

Placing the sword on the blood vessel,

Crunch!

He thrust his mana into it.

Then, a change occurred.

“Grrroooaaar―!”

The champion let out a scream filled with agony.

The veins inside his elbow bulged.

Kallios still didn’t understand, so he thought it was funny that he barely landed a hit, but it was a natural result.

The fighting spirit of an orc and the mana of a human are different.

Their very nature is conflicting, and the more they mix, the more they clash and turn into shock.

Usually, the one who receives the shock is the weaker of the two.

It was the compatibility between orcs and humans, and that was why Kallios felt his whole body burning.

That was the key.

The Fearfire technique was designed to fully exploit that compatibility.

A sword that never clashes with the opponent’s blade, injecting mana into the opponent’s blood vessels to create a one-sided situation.

A dwarf’s sword that devours giants.

Thus, returning the burning pain, it was ultimately Fearfire.

Kallios realized this.

But he was too inexperienced to perfect this technique.

Boom!

“Ugh!”

The absolute amount of mana was similar.

But the skill to handle it and the level of muscle strength to exert it were vastly different.

Above all, it was so.

The art of the sword was ultimately about imbuing the sword with one’s will, and it was related to the aura of a Sword Master.

How could one fully draw that out at the level of an Expert Lieutenant?

The incomplete sword technique eventually gnawed away at Callios’ mana.

Callios felt regret.

‘Just a little more.’

If he could use this technique just a few more times, it seemed like something would reveal itself.

But there was no such luxury.

Death was approaching.

The enraged orc raised its greatsword high.

Even though there was an opening right there, why wouldn’t his body move, why wouldn’t his mana obey?

A laugh of futility escaped him.

Was he going to die like this?

At that moment, as faces flashed before his eyes, he felt a pang of sorrow.

“70 points.”

A voice was heard.

And the orc’s greatsword was blocked by a very familiar switch.

Callios’ eyes widened.

Before he knew it, Yuren was standing in front of him, blocking the orc.

“…You?”

“70 points. If you can’t dodge, you should have deflected it, not blocked it. And if you’re going to aim, aim for the guts. Even if the body is damaged, the pain can be erased and movement can continue. If you aim for the joints, the damage is minimal.”

Yuren looked at Kallios indifferently.

“But… well, it seems you’ve figured out what swordsmanship is, so well done. Therefore, your total score is 70 points.”

It felt unreal.

The champion was still groaning and shouting as if a sword had stuck to his back.

The orcs, seeing him intrude into the duel, were drawing their weapons in anger.

Yet, he alone remained at ease.

As if these things were nothing.

As if this crisis could not be considered a crisis.

Kallios chuckled and asked.

“…Since when have you been here?”

“For a while. Around the time Your Highness started coughing up blood.”

“You could have helped earlier.”

“Consider it practice. There’s a saying, you know. A good helmsman cannot emerge from a calm sea. Growth comes from hardship.”

What should one say to this?

His relaxed demeanor made everyone else relax as well.

No, even so, they were not completely relaxed.

It wasn’t because of the champion.

‘The mana…’

Yuren’s mana was spread throughout the entire space.

Even though the amount was not particularly large, the pressure was immense.

If one had to express it, it was like that.

‘…It feels like sticking my head into the jaws of a beast.’

The sensation was like being inside the mouth of a giant wolf, with fangs protruding from all sides.

A chill ran down my spine, and the orcs seemed to feel it too, as they hesitated.

Only Yuren spoke in a calm tone.

“It will be over soon, please rest.”

Yuren’s gaze turned towards the champion.

* * *

My heart aches.

This is the price of drawing upon forbidden power.

‘Ah, I will need to recuperate for a while.’

Imbuing mana with form and ‘temperament’ is still too much at this point.

But, what can I do?

To easily capture the champion, a higher level is required.

I pretended to be calm.

And thus, I adjusted the mana.

Ah, this struggle reminds me of the old days.

That is… exactly when I broke through to the Sword Master’s level in the prison.

-What do you think is the difference between a Sword Master and an Expert?

To the prince’s question, I had answered roughly.

– If you roughly imbue the sword with aura and swing it, isn’t that a Sword Master?

– Hmm…

– Why are you staring at me like that? It’s unsettling.

– Is that really all you see?

– Is there something else? Ah, if you’re talking about the mana flow needed to create aura…

– That’s enough. You can already see it with your eyes anyway.

– …What are you trying to say?

– I feel I must tell you this.

What is a Sword Master?

One day, it was a discourse, and the Crown Prince’s answer was as follows.

– The master of the sword. You must understand the meaning of the name itself.

– ?

– I’m not talking about the sword in your hand. I’m saying that you, who use the sword, must not be swayed by it and must control everything yourself to truly become its master.

For a long time, I couldn’t fully understand that meaning.

No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was just empty words.

But looking back now, it’s clear.

He was truly right.

To become the master of the sword and control everything.

In other words, to become a Sword Master, you need the control to fully bring the imagined flow of mana into reality, the body to handle it, and an understanding of everything that can be done with the sword.

When that is achieved, a phenomenon occurs.

– Every sword has a nature. The ego of the one who trains with the sword is imbued into it.

A nature is born.

The sword contains a soul.

Wielding will and wielding intent, how else could it be expressed but as its master?

For example, in the case of the Crown Prince, it was ‘domination.’

The Crown Prince’s sword utilized the mana drifting in space with his own power.

This was the reason for the Crown Prince’s strength and why it was terribly difficult to defeat him in a duel.

I didn’t particularly care about it, but one day, as I broke through my limits, I was able to gain a nature similar to the Crown Prince’s.

The nature of my sword was ‘shattering.’

Recalling the reason, it was because the reason I wielded the sword was out of a desire for revenge against the family that abandoned me.

It was a shameful heart that wanted to crush and destroy everything.

Once the nature of mana is determined, it doesn’t change easily.

This was the biggest reason I could elevate my nature now.

I already knew my nature, and because I knew how to use it, I could apply its principles even at this early stage of being an expert.

But of course, it was impossible to do it perfectly.

Because I had only brought the state of my mind without preparing my body.

As the master of the sword, I had gained mental control but not physical control.

Right now, I am a half-baked sword master.

The recoil has been gnawing at my body every moment.

Crunch…

So, I must not drag this out for long.

The champion’s eyes saw me, and I also saw the champion’s eyes.

I raised my cane.

“Lower your eyes, you b*stard.”

He struck.

Just one move.

Burning all the mana in his body, squeezing his heart dry, melting all his muscles, he swung just once.

Infusing the essence of the Fearfire technique into it,

CRACK―!

The repelling force of the aura and mana, the crushing nature starting from the waist where the cane struck, ground his entire body as if to explode it.

With a thud, blood and flesh rained down like a shower.

* * *

Drenor arrived at the scene almost simultaneously as Yuren beheaded the champion.

Thus, he could see it clearly.

‘Nature…?’

That was the sword of ‘nature’ that could only be realized upon reaching the master’s level,

‘Incomplete…’

Yuren’s body was in shambles because his body couldn’t keep up with that level.

He doesn’t know how it’s possible.

What Drenor knows, and what every swordsman on this continent knows.

One must complete their body to attain enlightenment.

To challenge the wall of ‘impossible,’ one must first have a body that can withstand it.

But that thing was too grotesque.

The result had come out, ignoring the prerequisites.

No, it wasn’t just that.

‘Come to think of it…’

It was the same when observing the sparring with the Crown Prince.

His body couldn’t keep up with his understanding of the sword.

The Crown Prince seemed unaware, but he was clearly under physical strain during the sparring.

Why, why does such a phenomenon occur?

The moment that shocking scene filled his mind.

“Captain!”

“…Ah, first, save His Highness!”

From the moment the champion died, the orcs went mad and charged at the two of them.

At that sight, Draenor decided to handle the situation first.

The knights stepped forward.

Draenor himself also unleashed his aura and charged into the orcs.

KWAANG!!!

In an instant, the orcs were swept away.

In the midst of it, Draenor glanced at Yuren.

“…Oh, damn.”

He couldn’t see clearly as he covered his mouth with his arm, but the Sword Master’s dynamic vision certainly caught it at that moment.

Blood was flowing from Yuren’s mouth.

At that moment, without thinking, Drenor thought of the word that would perfectly fit the scattered puzzle in his mind.

‘…Chronic illness?’

Then everything makes sense.

The understanding of a Sword Master, but a body that can’t keep up with it.

The usual rogue-like behavior and the aggressive and fast-paced teaching method of Yuren that he had seen so far.

‘A talent cursed with a frail body…’

Could it be that Yuren was pushing the Crown Prince into intense sparring to leave him with that realization before he died?

Wasn’t that his loyalty?

Drenor’s eyes sank.

‘If that’s the case…’

Isn’t that an incredibly tragic fate?

A fate where one cannot use their talent for themselves!

Knight Drenor.

A man who has devoted his life to the sword and loyalty to the empire.

He felt his heart tighten with the speculation that had solidified into conviction.

At this moment, Yuren, who protected Callios while testing the limits of his life, seemed only admirable.

‘It’s my fault…!’

How could I leave the camp and put that deeply loyal talent in danger!

His sword became even rougher.

The goodwill and guilt towards Yuren grew beyond words.

BoooM!!!

The misunderstanding was deepening.

…This is why biased thinking was dangerous.

End

ⓒ papapa.

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