Namgung Se-ga, the warrior, was reincarnated in Romance

In the martial arts world, those who first wield a real sword are called low-level warriors, while in the realm of Sierun, they are referred to as sword beginners.

When you swing a sword a thousand times until your hands are calloused, you become a third-rate warrior, a sword user.

If you can now handle a sword a bit and simultaneously take on five third-rate warriors, you would be considered a second-rate warrior, or in other words, a Sword Expert from the lower to the intermediate level.

If you can then harness your inner energy, or aura, you will be classified as a top-tier warrior, a sword expert of the highest rank.

Mastering this internal energy to the point where one can freely manipulate it to strike the opponent is the pinnacle of being a supreme master, the highest level of sword expert.

And the stage where one can cover the sword with the sword’s energy after attaining enlightenment.

They call it the ultimate, sword master.

The place I barely managed to secure in my past life was exactly that.

Right now, I’ve barely managed to transition from being top-tier to being at the peak. It was early for a thirteen-year-old body, but since I was already walking the path I had once walked, it wasn’t such a big deal.

The world above the peak is something I have never experienced before.

It had been quite a while since I couldn’t gauge the opponent’s skill with my eyes. I had been holding my sword all along, but it had been a long time since I had left the Doosan Sword Forest of the martial world.

A decade ago, the path that led to the abyss. My rank in the Murim Alliance was fifty-eighth.

It was because there were exactly fifty-seven individuals among the heads and direct descendants of the five families named after the Murong clan, the Hebei Peng clan, the Sichuan Tang clan, the Zhuge clan, and the Nangong clan, as well as the leaders and elders of the nine factions of Serobu, Kunlun, Gongsun, Qingsheng, Amity, Zhenchang, Zongnam, Wudang, and Shaolin, who were known as the two elders of the open banner and the open flag, and the direct disciples of the previous generation, who possessed supreme martial prowess.

However, among those mediocre seats, there was always a particularly shining star.

The leader of the Murim Alliance and the number one sword of Mount Wu, Jang Mu-hyeon, was ranked first among them. In the Murim Alliance, Hwasan and Namgung each boasted of having one more master of Huajing under their command.

With a single gesture of theirs, the sky wept and the earth turned upside down.

Dozens of swords rise on their own to cut down people, the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique, where one sword becomes a plum blossom branch and the sword energy blooms like petals, cutting down hundreds in a single breath, the Emperor Sword Form, where ten kneel in one step and two hundred groan in agony in two steps.

They have etched their resplendent titles and names into the minds and hearts of all the martial artists in the world.

They were not humans but gods who had descended upon the mortal realm.

I wanted to be like them.

Whether it was the desire to become a god with a human body or the warrior’s ambition who grasped a sword as soon as he was born.

Or perhaps, it was unclear whether the peer, who had been taking elixirs like food and drink since childhood and occasionally receiving rigorous massage and questioning from the elders to maintain their internal energy and vital essence, was envious of the one who had earned the name of the Five Dragons and Three Beauties, the most outstanding among the later generations.

However, even on the day I die, and even after being reborn, there was only one thing I wanted to be.

Master of the Flower Realm.

I wanted to at least touch the tip of my fingers to that distant, lofty realm where, even if I strained my neck and lifted my chin until my shoulders ached, nothing would obstruct my view.

Even if my nails were torn off and my whole body was shattered while climbing the Manjangdae Cliff (a very high cliff reaching the height of ten thousand feet), I wished to see the end of it at least once.

The state of enlightenment was also called “returning to the mundane” in other words. It was a state where, having reached the highest level and mastered martial arts, one still appeared to be an ordinary person.

The first sword of the Taoist priest, Jang Mu-hyeon, was like that, and Maelo Sanson, who stood before me now, was just the same.

Upon closer inspection, the Taiyang point (*the prominent point on the temple) was flat, the expression was gentle, and the entire body, from the solid shoulders to the torso and toes, was perfectly balanced, with no unnecessary tension anywhere.

The man with golden hair, who looked like an ordinary middle-aged person, had such a quiet and resplendent prayer.

Observing the opponent is the foundation of internal energy. It is the movement of energy. From the moment the energy began to rise, I knew that Maelo Sanson would immediately recognize it and look to my side, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

The master of Hwakyung, you say?

I was so happy that I couldn’t contain myself. It was a fortuitous opportunity. I thought there would never be another opportunity like this.

“You’re really something, Mikael Ernhardt, even before the class has started.”

“Yes!”

“No, I meant don’t look at me like you’re going to eat me… Yeah, there are probably some freshmen who know my name and have heard about me… and there are probably friends who have gotten to know me just by seeing me, like our youngest member.” I’m a bit famous, aren’t I?

“Yes!”

“⋯There is one more Grand Sword Master in the Imperial Knights, but that person is not qualified to teach anyone.” So, especially for the future of the empire and for you all, I am living at the academy.

“Yes!”

“During the training hall hours, simple instruction is available, so feel free to come if you need it.” However, if you come to see me, it’s better to forget about taking it easy.

“Yes!”

The first time, the second time, and the last time, it was only me who answered. Some students chuckled softly, while others straightened their backs and stared intently at Sanson, following my lead.

Thinking about sweating under a great master made my heart swell with excitement.

Maelo Sanson carefully observed the students, glanced at me once more, and then used the technique of Huhgongsupmul (*a mystical martial art that uses internal energy to move or draw objects to the desired place) to place the handout in front of the students.

Hollow air absorption! And so simply, like breathing! I was almost fainting.

On the first page of the handout, the classes available to the swordsmanship club students were clearly organized.

Under each class name, the instructor’s name and course content were written in small letters, but before I even thought about it, I picked up a pen and wrote “Basic Swordsmanship” and “Advanced Swordsmanship” in the schedule for the second period.

The opportunity to receive direct instruction from the master of Hwa-gyeong was something I didn’t want to miss for even a moment.

Due to the influence of the atmosphere, Maelo Sanson’s expression, which should have naturally seen the scene, showed a somewhat awkward demeanor.

However, I pretended not to know because I was already feeling a pang in my heart at the thought that this opportunity would last only three years.

Maelo Sanson briefly paused after guiding through the must-attend, beneficial, and hobby-worthy classes listed in the handout.

“From twelve to one is lunchtime, so there are no classes during that time.” I won’t be available during that time because I’ll be eating, so don’t come looking for me.

It was as if they were talking about me. I tried to smile as sweetly and innocently as possible.

Please provide the text you would like to have translated.

Sheiden Rose, who had just become a fellow member of the swordsmanship club, leaned in close with his red hair and looked at my schedule.

Sitting next to me, you don’t have to be this close. I thought my eyesight wasn’t good.

If one’s physical condition is not good, it is distinctly disadvantageous for sword training, so feeling somewhat sorry, I adjusted my schedule to accommodate that.

Sheiden helped fill out my schedule while mumbling to himself.

The reason they spoke to each other informally was because they knew it would look close to others as well. He was already calling me by my childhood name, my nickname, and whatever else he wanted, which made it even more so.

At some point in the past, it was clear that I must have given permission in the midst of the chaos, so I didn’t point it out.

“Are you going to take both the beginner and advanced swordsmanship classes?” I was trying to match my schedule with yours.

“Opportunities like this don’t come easily.”

“Well… that’s true.” Yeah, what other classes are you going to take? You should take World History as a required elective… and since you’ve already completed the etiquette course through family education, you don’t need that…

“Basics of Magic and Formula Principles.”

“Huh?” “Why did you do that?”

“I want to make friends with a wizard.”

“Huh?”

Perhaps because Sheiden’s voice was so loud and booming, I felt the eyes of my classmates on me. I was confident and didn’t care, so I said it once more.

“I want to make friends with a wizard.”

“No, so… are you just going to listen?” There are midterms, finals, and assignments too. “Do you think you can handle it all?”

“Because I haven’t tried it yet.”

“Mika.” Are you serious? The kids who get into the academy can do something like Iceball Memorize from the age of ten. You need to have innate magical talent…

“Trying to do it, now.”

Convincing someone who is not open to persuasion is surprisingly easy. You just need to assert strongly or take action first.

Whether I will do well or not, I don’t even know myself. I replied firmly and filled out the schedule. Sheyden hesitated for a moment but soon declared that he would give up trying to align his schedule with mine.

I thought I wouldn’t be bored if he was by my side, but I also felt that he might hinder me from meeting new people, so I readily agreed.

Thus, I easily decided on my first semester classes as a freshman.

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays in the morning, from ten to twelve, it was Maelo Sanson’s beginner swordsmanship class, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays in the morning, from ten to twelve, it was Maelo Sanson’s advanced swordsmanship class.

As expected of a warrior of Hwa-gyeong, he spent the remaining days quite regularly, except for the two holidays. It’s something to be emulated.

I pushed all the other classes and electives except for swordsmanship to the afternoon.

Among them, the moment I decided to keep Friday afternoon free just in case I might want to call Maelo Sanson, a dark hand suddenly appeared in front of me.

“Nice to meet you, Youngsik Ernhardt.” My name is Benjamin Claudian. I am the third child of the Marquess of Claudian.

Please provide the text you would like to have translated.

“Mr. Sanson.” Why do you look so glum? I heard there are a lot of talented new students this time. That, uh, the pink-haired kid who got into school early, how are they? He wasn’t even told to, but he went around the training ground by himself, claiming he became a sword master at the age of five.

“…Cedric.” “Do we still have that sunscreen the second-year students made during class before?”

“Uh?” There should be, right? Why is that?

“I was also a passionate kid, but… this is only the second time in my life I’ve had a student go this crazy.” The way he’s acting is just like Little Chiadris. I’ll die before that guy does.

“The Grand Sword Master doesn’t just make light of death, oh ho.” “When the shining star of the empire rises, you should know to be happy.”

“I’m at the age where I will retire in a couple of days, but a very young and strong friend came by…”