This World Needs a Hero

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[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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Clang!

Kasim couldn’t take his eyes off the training ground where the exchanges of blows were taking place.

He had heard about the upcoming showdown from none other than the Hero himself.

“You might gain something from it.”

Even after learning swordsmanship from the fairies in the Great Forest, Kasim still couldn’t break through the wall in front of him.

So the Hero’s proposal was very welcome to him.

‘The swordsmanship of the former Sword Saint….’

It was Zion, a master of all weapons.

Kasim felt ecstatic at the thought of being able to see how Zion handled the rapier, his primary weapon.

But at the same time, he felt puzzled.

‘After all, won’t the Hero overwhelmingly win?’

Anyone would think so.

Because of this, when he heard that Leciel would also be attending the showdown, he couldn’t help but be a bit cautious.

However…

Clang!

‘I didn’t expect this.’

If someone who didn’t know swordplay saw the scene in front of them, they might mistake it for a match between beginners.

Their exchanges were monotonous.

And the most peculiar thing was that neither of them used mana, as if it had been agreed upon.

When Zion struck downward, the Hero blocked upward.

When Zion slashed horizontally, the Hero countered in the opposite direction.

Occasionally, there were thrusts, but each time, their thrusts cancelled each other out as if choreographed.

Kasim’s bewildered expression began to change after dozens of repetitions of the same type of attack.

‘It’s not as simple as it seems.’

Their swordplay was different.

Although it appeared to be just common slashes, there were constant changes and unpredictable elements within.

Like ripples spreading on a lake.

Like the sudden change to a strong wind in a cliff crevice.

The potential for a myriad of changes was reflected at every moment.

Though his understanding was limited, watching their erratic swordplay was as mesmerizing as viewing the capricious scenery of nature.

‘I should use an unreasonable expression at this point.’

The two swords were constantly changing while remaining static.

Kasim gradually became engrossed in their exchanges.

“Well, it’s not as flashy as I thought it would be, Professor Pierre.”

It was then that Labin, sitting next to him, spoke.

Kasim looked at him in surprise.

“…What?”

Labin shrugged.

“I suppose I vaguely understood what they’re trying to show.”

How many young professors would receive such a terrifying compliment from Labin?

Kasim chuckled brightly.

“Ahaha, you flatter me.”

“…That child seemed to have known from the beginning.”

“Huh?”

Kasim’s gaze shifted to the front row at those words.

Leciel’s eyes were fixed on the Hero and Zion.

In fact, they didn’t even hear.

‘…It feels like someone else is fighting.’

Zion had gone through countless duels, and Leciel had watched them since childhood.

All of Zion’s duels were extremely flashy and aggressive.

So, it was natural to expect the same in this showdown.

‘No one could defeat Grandma in an aggressive fight.’

It was obvious.

Hiyashin was the oldest martial family.

Over the years, Hiyashin had collected numerous martial arts and presented them to the world in their own forms.

…And Zion was the one who had mastered most of them through tremendous effort.

‘Hiyashin is the source, the rest are derivatives.’

In other words, Zion started by knowing all the challengers’ techniques one by one.

When the opponent performed a certain technique, Zion would counter with a corresponding technique.

As a result, challengers were constantly pushed into a defensive position and eventually admitted defeat.

If the opponent were demons, there might be someone stronger than her.

But in a one-on-one duel, Zion was practically invincible.

Except for one instance.

That was ten years ago, in a duel with the professor.

There was no fierce battle as usual.

Just one downward strike.

Zion’s flashy swordsmanship shattered against the Hero’s sword.

Leciel still remembered the Hero’s sword cutting through the air under the moonlight.

‘…Non-aggressive.’

Swing, strike, thrust.

All swordsmen learn these three actions first.

As their skills improve, they forget these basic actions and focus on more complex and flashy techniques.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

By focusing on difficult and complex movements, they gained insights and abilities.

Through repeated practice and time, when the mastery of the sword became one with the body.

‘Would it return to the beginning like this?’

All those depths of the heart were applied to the most familiar actions.

For a moment, Leciel imagined herself standing between the Hero and Grandma.

Slow and obvious trajectories of sword strikes.

But she didn’t feel she could stop them.

If it were overwhelming mana and flashy swordsmanship as usual, she might have been able to deflect them a few times.

But those swords wouldn’t allow it.

In front of them, she wouldn’t even be able to move a finger.

‘Ah…’

Leciel sighed endlessly as she watched their swords.

It was a moment where exceptional insights were unknowingly absorbed.

.

.

.

She wasn’t the only one realizing something.

Clang!

The Hero swung his sword in an unbroken rhythm.

With each regular clang ringing in his ears, complex thoughts peeled away layer by layer.

The pressure of being watched by people.

The expectation to show a showdown befitting the title of “Hero.”

And countless other worries and anxieties.

Clang!

They all seemed to be carried away with each echoing clang.

It felt like going back to the beginning.

It was like when he learned basic swordsmanship from Ted in seclusion.

Only the breath and muscles screaming to the tip of the chin, pouring sweat existed back then.

It was, in fact, the time when he could immerse himself in the sword the most.

“Forget about styles and techniques for now. Think about how to wield the sword well.”

Yes, back to the beginning.

▼

Infinity Second Form: Unity activated.

▲

‘Unity.’

The Hero whispered inwardly.

Unify into one.

Simple.

Moderation.

Neatness.

Purification.

Countless changes merged into one sword.

Where do these changes come from?

Countless remnants flashed through his mind.

Ted’s, Leciel’s, Cuculli’s, Ban’s, Luke’s, Kalende’s.

And the traces of the people the Hero had encountered and experienced over the years.

The more he recalled them, the simpler the sword strikes became.

Zion was combining countless swordsmanship techniques she had learned through training into one.

So, what could he combine?

Clang!

Labin’s voice echoed incessantly in his mind.

“All streams, waves, and currents ultimately become one in the ocean. Don’t perceive what you have as separate.”

‘Ah.’

——————

[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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——————

A flashing realization struck the Hero.

The convergence of all streams, waves, and currents into one.

Gathering various things into one form, that is…

‘It’s just me.’

With that, the final sword was swung.

Clang!

What was contained within that monotonous sword strike, even the Hero couldn’t grasp it all.

Just Unity.

It felt like all the countless things that made him up were woven together and expressed in one moment.

▼

Infinity Second Form: Unity activated.

▲

“…Huff.”

The Hero stopped the sword in a surge of relief.

And he asked Zion, who had also stopped.

She staggered heavily, then knelt down.

Trying to stand up, she gave up and exhaled roughly.

The intact sword that had endured countless exchanges lay shattered into pieces, rolling on the ground.

In the silence engulfing the arena, the Hero asked the sword saint,

“Did you see?”

She nodded vigorously.

“I saw it.”

“How many sword strikes were there?”

Zion hesitated, then chuckled lightly.

“…Countless single strikes.”

No comment came to mind to signify growth.

But the Hero was satisfied with that answer.

On the other hand, Zion, having composed herself, turned to look at her granddaughter in the stands.

It was another defeat.

But this time, both of them were smiling faintly.

There was no change in the pride reflected in her granddaughter’s eyes.

It was a scene that brought both relief and satisfaction to Zion.

They had brushed it all off.

After a long time, Zion made a joke.

“Hero, it’s customary to refrain from defeating a revered Sword Saint in front of her granddaughter.”

Smiling slightly, the Hero reached out his hand to support Zion.

People from the stands also descended beneath the training ground simultaneously.

“…Grandmother.”

The Hero immediately yielded the role of supporting Zion to Leciel.

Leciel seemed to want to embrace her grandmother.

When Zion smiled wryly, she leaned on her granddaughter.

“Lost again, huh?”

“…I don’t see a loser in my eyes.”

“Did they teach you eloquence at the academy?”

“I’m speaking from the heart.”

Leciel’s hand on Zion’s shoulder exerted pressure.

With her face slightly flushed, the girl spoke.

“It was a match that made me proud, grandmother. Really.”

“…When did you become so refined?”

It was unnecessary to mention how today approached each other as a salvation.

With a glance, Leciel and Zion conveyed their gratitude to the Hero.

The Hero lightly nodded, capturing the dark hope.

▼

The long-standing dampness seeped out of the firewood.

▲

▼

Understanding of Leciel Hiyashin deepens.

Understanding: 20/100 -> 35/100

▲

▼

Understanding of Zion Hiyashin deepens.

Understanding: 5/100 -> 10/100

▲

It was a moment when related comments filled her mind.

“…You.”

Labin approached with an unusually flushed face.

Behind him, Kasim looked at him with a face filled with admiration and excitement.

Kasim also seemed to have gained something from the recent bout.

“What was the final strike?”

Labin asked in a tone that seemed unbelievable.

“…I’ve never seen anything like that from you before.”

…Of course.

This was a sword unlike any before, infused with the enlightenment and identity of a doppelganger, unlike the swordsmanship before.

He nodded deeply towards Labin.

“This sword was made possible thanks to your teachings. Thank you.”

“What…”

It was a moment of confusion as Labin coughed.

The Hero’s head lowered even further.

“And I apologize.”

An unexpected apology.

A contextless apology.

“……”

But Labin understood immediately what it was apologizing for.

The expression of the old man, which had once hardened, then shook uncontrollably.

With a huff, Labin turned and headed towards the exit of the arena without saying a word.

As the Hero watched him leave.

His footsteps slowed down again.

“You.”

A few steps ahead, Labin looked at the Hero.

And spoke with a rough expression.

“Now that you’ve apologized, take care of yourself.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed.

After scrutinizing the Hero up and down, Labin said abruptly.

“And stop doing weird things.”

The Hero chuckled faintly.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be resolved soon.”

“Huh, who said I was worried.”

With that, Labin left.

Next, Pia, who checked on the condition of the Hero and Zion with a tired look (this match had been boring for her, not being a swordsman), left.

Supporting each other as if embracing, the grandmother and granddaughter also left gently.

Kasim, who had been mumbling something, disappeared after glancing at the atmosphere.

“……”

Left alone, the Hero finally relaxed his tense body.

‘What weird things…’

This must have been about Theo’s curse, the Dark Impulse.

Although the symptoms had not yet manifested severely, it was necessary to remove it as soon as possible.

‘If Labin noticed…’

It was probably because of being together for the past few days, but it was only a matter of time before others noticed.

‘Brother… it’s time to find the last Homunculus.’

Invitations, the Ravias issue, and the duel with Zion all ended safely.

Now it would be appropriate to leave for work.

With a last step, the Hero left.

His next destination was the Library of Memories.

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[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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