Chapter 53

Posted by Kuze, ? Views, Released on February 8, 2025

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It’s hot.

No, it’s cool.

The heart yearns to sit down and rest at any moment.

However, I shake off all those temptations.

Just a little while ago, didn’t I say I’d even throw away my life if it meant protecting the village?

Didn’t I fervently pray in my heart for that very thing?

Did my resolve change in just a few seconds?

“――!!”

From afar, someone’s yelling something, but I can’t hear it.

A barbaric warrior approaches with an axe in hand.

And then, instead of rushing in right away, he stops and yammers on for a bit before finally charging.

I respond with both-handed sword strikes.

At the same time as deflecting his attack, I counter and cut him down in one swift motion.

My master once told me this:

‘You’re naturally lacking in strength. Your frame isn’t sturdy either. No matter how much you train or endure hardship, what you’ll gain will be minimal. Still, you can’t give up. If you do, you won’t even be able to protect yourself. Fortunately, your lungs are strong, so if you use that trait well, you won’t tire as easily as others.’

Train hard if you want to survive.

Building strength comes after that.

…That’s why even enduring the training my master demanded…

For me, it was nothing short of a trial.

He said it was nearly impossible.

And because of that, I took it as a challenge.

If it’s nearly impossible, doesn’t that mean I can move further away from impossibility with effort?

I turned every odd job into part of my training.

Even leisure and rest were meticulously optimized for efficiency.

Rest is necessary for growth.

Eating well, moving well, and resting well are essential.

Don’t equate yourself with others.

There wasn’t even time to envy them.

There wasn’t time to feel sorry for myself either.

Once I started viewing loneliness as a luxury and stopped caring about it, things became somewhat bearable.

Even when she watched over me and eventually grew disheartened, I couldn’t console her with pure intentions because…

…ultimately, it was due to my own weakness.

We stand here, on this land, in hell.

In a desolate, miserable place where there’s no way out.

Where we might get swept away at any moment, like a fallen leaf.

Even standing still means rotting away into the earth.

Being swept away isn’t even within our control.

What a lamentable existence.

Even if by some miracle we achieve happiness…

…that happiness could shatter at any moment in this cruel reality.

And I simply couldn’t accept that passively.

…Another warrior charges in.

A big strong man wielding a shield and club.

His stature towers over mine.

Now that I think about it, the guy who charged earlier had an absurdly imposing build too.

And proving his worth, after exchanging blows a few times, my sword blade dulled and even bent.

Responding with brute force alone was clearly reckless.

But it’s too early to give up.

I reach for my waist.

The sword fits perfectly into my grasp as I draw it anew.

It’s just one broken sword.

As long as my limbs aren’t broken and my life isn’t taken,

there’s no problem at all.

Most importantly,

the stronger the enemy, the stronger we become.

Because we’ve always used their power and their mistakes against them to bring them down.

Where does water flow?

My master once asked me this.

I naturally replied that it flows forward, toward the open path.

But my master firmly disagreed.

“Water flows from high to low.”

“……?”

Upon reflection, it was indeed correct.

“That’s why the sea is king, father, and mother to all rivers.”

The reason the sea can encompass all water is…

“Because it lies lower than anything else.”

Our swords must flow like water too.

“But that’s not the end. Water rises again, ascending to the sky, becoming clouds, rain, and snow.”

“Huh? So rain was originally river water and seawater?”

“…Indeed.”

Though I didn’t fully understand, my master emphasized that wielding a sword should be like this.

When exerting force, it should be the same.

He kept stressing this point.

“Furthermore, like the wind, it should weave through without attachment, flowing along the path laid out, naturally resisting and brushing past entanglements.”

Our bodies should move accordingly.

“If you only grasp this, few on earth will be able to handle you carelessly. Given your physical traits, you won’t be able to manipulate mana intricately or utilize it, so this is the only method I can offer you.”

Oh Master.

I still don’t know…

…what exactly you were trying to enlighten me with.

Despite that, somehow I managed to defeat those who wielded sword energy, emitted light, and displayed incredible physical abilities.

I take quiet pride in that.

I’m not afraid of losing.

What scares me is disgracing your teachings.

What terrifies me most is sullying your name.

That’s why I never boldly revealed who my master was…

…it’s a reflection of my inadequacy and weakness.

“How can he do this much?”

“Is he a monster…?”

I’ve taken down five or so by now.

Around this point, it seems they abandoned the idea of a one-on-one duel and shifted their goal to taking me down.

‘If they had thrown arrows or rocks, it would have been troublesome.’

But it was easier since they came straight at me.

I didn’t have the strength to charge forward or even approach them anymore.

Just standing is all I can manage.

My whole body refuses to move.

Holding myself upright without stumbling is all I can do.

But then…

“Gahk!”

Why…

“Aaaargh!”

…am I…

“Jenja…from the…God…”

Not falling already?

Suddenly, I remember—I can’t fall.

If I collapse here, who will stop them?

Even if a few of them head toward the village,

I lack the stamina and vitality to stop them.

So why…

Are they all watching me, keeping guard?

‘Why?’

Without effort, amidst their overwhelming assault,

somehow I instill caution and fear in them.

‘He said to relax my strength.’

Nature’s actions lack artifice.

Intentionally forcing, squeezing, or pumping power is meaningless and irrelevant.

Even though human anatomy says otherwise,

…if I can’t apply that principle physically,

exercising nature’s actions with my body is impossible.

Recreating this through mana is the pinnacle of artifice.

But even if it’s false, if it works, it becomes undeniable reality.

Thus, if it’s a path, it’s still a valid path.

Is there only one direction to find the answer I seek?

This too is an expression and realization of will.

…But.

A legless person cannot climb stairs with legs.

A wingless beast cannot fly like a bird.

‘…I see.’

I’ve been mistaken all this time.

There’s still so much left for me to learn.

No.

I increasingly realize how inadequate I am.

Rather, why did it take me this long to realize this?

But, inevitably.

Even in the most exhausting moments,

I’ve never felt as weary as I do now.

As my strength naturally drains from my entire body.

Yet, because the enemy is mighty and overwhelmingly powerful.

Thus, the path opened up.

Like how a narrowing gorge forces the rushing river to converge…

Or is this slightly different?

Though my mind can’t fully grasp it,

somehow, I understand.

This is what Master was talking about…

====

I chase the illusion.

I thought I lost consciousness for a brief moment.

But in that instant, the sensations he experienced flowed back in reverse,

drifting into my awareness.

“When assuming a stance, be like rock and tree.”

And…

“When executing movements, be like water and wind.”

Simple and seemingly trivial advice, yet one thing was certain.

‘This…’

The wind blows.

Though trapped in a tight space,

if there’s an exit—even a small crack—it exists.

The wind instinctively throws itself toward that opening.

That’s me now.

Following the illusion, I guide my body.

I raise my sword.

—!!

The moment my greatsword collides, my body flies to one side.

But I don’t lose my center.

My posture continues, and my body flows, slipping smoothly in the intended direction.

From there again.

Dodging the incoming axe from the side, I glide it aside and use its momentum to slide gracefully in the opposite direction.

In an instant, I reach the chest of another warrior.

Dropping my stance, I slip through his legs and grab his ankle.

Though he stood firm like a pillar,

I use that to pivot my body and swing my sword, severing his ankle.

“Kraaaagh!”

Neither too shallow nor too deep.

As he cries out in pain and confusion, bending over,

I roll over his back to the other side.

Their encirclement loosens slightly.

No matter how tightly they surround, continuous movement creates openings.

‘Water and wind…’

As long as there’s a path, they never stop or stagnate.

I dodge the kicks of the charging man, grabbing his leg.

Instinctively pulling it, I use that force to hurl myself toward his chest, climbing onto his shoulders and grabbing his hair.

“What ARE you doing?!”

“When is the fooling around going to end?!”

“This nonsense has gone on long enough! What do you plan to do?!”

When the head tilts upward, the neck naturally leans backward.

The heaviest part of the human body is surprisingly the head.

Thus, controlling that means controlling the body’s center of gravity.

But that’s not all.

Just before landing, I swing my sword mid-air, decapitating him.

Neither too deep nor too shallow.

But this is undoubtedly fatal.

In fact, compared to a deep stab to the abdomen, this would hurt more and be more lethal.

Without time to clutch his severed neck, the warrior stumbles and collapses.

“…….”

The combat style shown by the illusion is distinctly different from this.

He uses similar methods—deflecting attacks with his sword, occasionally cutting or even kicking or punching opponents in the jaw—yet amidst chaos, he moves like water flowing, wind blowing, resisting, deflecting, and countering enemies seamlessly.

But this is his way.

His physical condition and circumstances.

His given environment and methods are all…

…different from mine.

But.

The fundamentals are the same.

That he uses certain principles, purposes, means, and methodologies to press and overwhelm them…

I’ve just understood that.

“Aaaaaa!”

A massive figure charges like a bull, head lowered.

I drop my upper body close to the ground to counter.

His wild hands lunge at me like a wolf opening its jaws,

but I slip through the gap, sliding away from his charge.

From there, I twist my body while sliding and slash at his ankle with my sword.

Kwang!

Caught in his own inertia, with a damaged ankle, the warrior crashes face-first.

I block a spear thrust from the side, evade another descending sword, and barely deflect an upward slash from an axe, pressing forward.

I dive in.

When an opponent tries to grab me, I seize his fingers and roll my entire body.

“Aaaaagh!”

Realizing his fingers might break, he rolls with me, but at that moment, I slice his neck, roll over him, and kick another warrior’s ankle, unbalancing him.

I slash again.

“These bastards are playing around! They can’t even handle a brat within striking distance!”

“Attack! Surround and crush him! What are you waiting for?!”

“Until when do you plan to keep making fools of yourselves?!”

The illusion minimizes effort, using minimal responses to incapacitate foes.

Sometimes he slashes eyes, sometimes wrists or ankles.

With punches to the jaw and kicks to the groin,

While dodging relentless attackers with ghostly precision,

he tosses them around, rolling them on the ground, slamming their heads, and toppling them.

Weapons failing, they resort to close combat.

Close combat ineffective, they cling desperately, trying to pin and crush him.

Nothing works.

Like trying to trap water with your hands or arms—it’s meaningless.

Or attempting to embrace the wind.

All their efforts are futile.

And their failed attempts transform into new opportunities for counterattacks.

This too utilizes their own strength.

There’s no need for desperate measures like plunging a sword into someone’s eye socket.

A slight slash to the eyeball is enough to neutralize them.

Even if they charge, responding isn’t difficult.

Sever tendons in the ankles, slice throats, cut wrists, split solar plexuses, hack thighs, and carve through hips.

They fall.

They sprawl.

Avoiding damage to the weapon by not hitting bones.

Despite robust muscles, targeting the most vulnerable points effectively and efficiently.

He slices them apart.

In the illusion, he has already incapacitated over a dozen warriors.

“…….”

By now,

The number of hulking warriors felled by these hands has surpassed a dozen.

“It seems…so.”

Only then.

The illusion stops.

And I realize he’s looking directly at me.

I meet his gaze.

“Ultimately…”