Once there was a boy.
Born as an orphan, he received the name Chronos from a knight.
From the age of 10, there was a boy who swung a sword all day long.
It all started as a sword to protect himself and those around him. He swung that sword for 10 whole years.
And at just 20 years old, he ascended to the position of deputy commander, receiving praise from those around him.
In terms of pure strength, he was acknowledged as the best knight in the Empire, aside from his leadership skills.
The act of slicing through humans and monsters with a sword had become second nature. And at the end of it all, desire sparked within him.
A desire for a more perfect swordsmanship. A desire to display an even more flawless sword technique.
He swung his sword for another 20 years.
The man began to be called the Sword God.
This was after he had single-handedly defeated two swordmasters from enemy territories.
Now, he felt no value in murder and bloodshed.
It was merely a result.
The result of wielding a sword.
What became important to him was the act of unfolding his swordsmanship itself.
Slice.
He breaks through his own limits before his very eyes.
A beautiful single strike. A perfect single strike.
A sword for the sake of the sword.
Chronos swung his sword for 30, 40—
60 years.
Though he had been wielding it since he had just turned 10, he still couldn’t clearly unpack its mysteries.
Eight years ago.
With a single sword, he had wiped out an entire kingdom.
The Sword Master.
He slashed down all the swordsmen who boasted they had reached mastery.
Their sword skills were so shallow that he could effortlessly cut through their defensive techniques like paper.
Had I reached the limit where humanity’s sword could stand?
Thinking so, Chronos resigned from his position and began his journey.
A journey to witness swords from across the world.
Most of the demi-humans couldn’t withstand Chronos’s sword.
However, a few rare ones were different.
“….”
Chronos found himself on his knees. A clear scar from a blade marked his left eye.
He opened his right eye wide and faced the being who had gifted him defeat.
An elf with both eyes closed.
A blind elf swordsman.
That being looked down upon Chronos.
From the elf’s mouth flowed a voice so beautiful it could only be described as youthful.
“Did you think you had reached the limit of what a human can achieve, thus traveling the world in search of non-human rivals?”
Chronos found himself responding to that melodious voice without a choice.
“…Yes.”
“How arrogant and ignorant.”
The elf with white hair spoke while still keeping eyes shut, gazing at Chronos.
“I’ve seen more than thirty humans stronger than you, even with their mortal bodies.”
Chronos furrowed his brows, unable to believe the words that seemed impossible. But he had to concede; the elf before him claimed to have lived over 500 years.
“You’ve reached your own limit, not the limit of humanity. Your capacity is simply that much.”
The blind elf did not kill Chronos.
“Try writhing in despair. Struggle against your limit. I shattered mine once.”
A man who knew nothing but the sword.
An old man who had dedicated his life to the art of swordsmanship while living a somewhat predetermined lifespan.
Chronos had seen his own shard from Chronos.
The man who lost his left sight continued to swing his sword.
The narrowed field of vision didn’t greatly affect his swordplay. In fact, the simultaneous expansion of his senses while extending the sword was heightened.
The man swung his sword.
For five years, he swung like that.
He cut through the waist of the vampire, who was skilled with a sword, in half with a swift motion.
He took the vampire’s blood serum to an alchemist and threatened him to somehow create a usable potion.
The result was nearly a drug.
And Chronos liked that drug.
The sword that splits the atmosphere.
He could see the gaps in time cutting through the air. It showed the subtle sensation of the air splitting by the sword.
Benda.
After that, Chronos searched for the drug.
A drug that could make the world clear the instant he drew his sword.
A drug that could show him how to swing the sword to split the world.
He didn’t care if it was a misguided greed.
He didn’t care if it was just an illusory effect.
As long as it gave him the power to break the vessel that confined him—his limits—he was willing to accept anything.
Unless it meant selling his body to a devil.
*
Chronos injected the drug and slumped in his chair.
Swinging the sword and taking the drug.
That was the way to keep his aged body in the best shape.
His breath grew ragged.
His mind instantly became hazy and then returned.
Chronos fiddled with the hilt of his sword.
He slowly rose and moved forward.
Thunder and explosive sounds covered the entire development site.
Chronos’s eyes shined.
Fiery.
Chronos’s right eye was fixated on a man.
He aimed at the man who had perfectly deflected the magical Electromagnetic Railgun with a shortsword.
“…Huh.”
The being that had deflected the existence of the magical railgun, which he had confidently declared he couldn’t stop.
The pinnacle of swordsmanship.
That man might possess it.
Chronos’s gaze was filled with greed.
He had to duel the author with swords.
That desire moved Chronos’s aged body.
“Uh, Elder! You must help us! T-There’s a strangely strong guy!!”
The shout of the hog brat, Belrak, echoed as he rushed over.
The sword that Chronos held fell diagonally.
Surge crack!
“GRAAAAAH!”
“Shut up.”
The sword strike deeply pierced Belrak’s shoulder, and he squirmed on the ground with eyes wide open in panic.
Step step—
Chronos walked alone towards the 34 Arkan Guards.
No, to be precise, towards Duke Yuma.
*
The magical Electromagnetic Railgun was completely neutralized by Yuma’s Parrying and the ensuing Absolute Counter skill.
And as Belrak’s forces guarding the magical railgun were obliterated by the building’s collapse, the Arkan Guards could move without hesitation.
They plunged into Belrak’s hideout in one fell swoop.
He sneaked into the hideout.
And he rescued the tied-up mayor of Arkahn, along with his brother who was crawling on the floor.
The blue hair of Arkahn’s mayor, Gelmore, was a mess, tangled up in confusion.
“…Y-Yuma-sama.”
Gelmore bowed deeply, almost as if performing a ritual to Yuma.
“How can I repay the grace of having my life saved not once, but twice?”
Yuma’s grayish hair framed his piercing blue eyes that were directed at Gelmore.
“Get up, Gelmore.”
“Understood.”
It wasn’t out of consideration for him; Yuma found Gelmore’s actions to be quite bothersome, yet to Gelmore, whose head was already in the clouds, it sounded like a divine command he had to heed.
Step—
The sound of Chronos’s footsteps echoed.
Gelmore swallowed hard.
“…He’s the old man who cut down my knight, who was a Sword Expert at the highest level. From what Belrak said, he was the legendary Second Sword of the former Empire. I don’t know if that’s true, but he’s certainly a terrifyingly skilled opponent.”
Yuma gazed at the level indicator floating above the white-haired old man, Chronos.
[Lv.152]
The first enemy he met, Cain Gal of the current Empire’s Ten Swords, had a level of 103 and was the highest among all the foes he had encountered so far.
But the man walking towards him with an overwhelming presence had a level of 152, significantly higher than that.
It seemed increasingly likely that what Gelmore had just said was all true.
Step—
Chronos slowly approached.
Gulp.
One of the guards swallowed nervously.
The presence.
The aura of the Overlord.
The knights of the Arkahn Guard, all thirty-four of them, had lost their will to fight in the face of the sword god Chronos, who had once led thousands on the battlefield and severed the neck of tens of thousands.
The old man opened his mouth slowly.
“The essence of the sword. I just caught a glimpse of it in your sword’s path.”
Chronos’s gaze was solely focused on Yuma.
‘…The essence of the sword?’
What does that even mean?
Yuma couldn’t comprehend what Chronos was talking about at all.
“A magic railgun’s eight shots easily deflected with the delicate technique of a dagger, that supreme sword path.”
Swish…
Chronos drew his sword.
It radiated a brilliant crimson light. It was an Aura Blade.
“Will you grant me the privilege of witnessing that sword path?”
Yuma tightened his grip on the dagger, the fangs of the Black Dragon Bernac.
And he used the Search Eye.
[Lv.152] Chronos
Race: Human
Alignment: Evil
Class: Swordsman
Level: Grand Swordmaster
Grand Swordmaster?
‘Somehow…’
The moment to use [Bullet Time] wasn’t when dealing with that magic railgun but had to be right now against the old man in front of him.
Chronos looked at Yuma’s dagger and chuckled bitterly.
“That dagger surely seems to be a fine weapon… but do you not plan on wielding another? I have countless weapons like longswords and greatswords in my Spatial Pocket.”
Even if given, he wouldn’t be able to wield it.
With this damn pathetic strength stat, holding a sword that weighs too much would make even [Parrying] a struggle.
Yuma slowly shook his head.
“Not needed.”
Chronos twisted his mouth. It wasn’t a sneer. It was a smile born from self-deprecation.
“Indeed… To someone who has truly reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship, it means that just this dagger is sufficient.”
That’s not it.
“I’m leaving.”
Bam!
Chronos stepped forward.
His right arm, holding the sword, swung sideways.
A serene flash erupted.
The red full moon enveloped the world.
It wasn’t a metaphor.
It covers everything.
Like heavy brushstrokes on a blank white canvas.
The sword path settled upon the world.
Only the sword of a boy who had run towards it his whole life.
The sword of a man.
The sword of an old man.
Swish───────────clang!
Strange light flickered in Yuma’s blue eyes.
It wasn’t about gathering energy or anything.
Just a moment.
Eyes grasping for that instant.
He lightly stepped forward.
He found the gap, just before that overwhelming sword path could slice through him.
The moment to parry it first.
Every muscle in his body screamed.
‘I’ll hit it.’
Only that obsession remained.
Kaaah!!
A golden light burst forth indicating the success of the parry.
Light flickered from the dagger’s tip.
<Absolute Counter>
It returns.
The transcendent sword path that Sword God Chronos had built over a lifetime.
Back to Chronos himself.
With an attack ten times stronger.
With ten times the heavenly nature.
Only Yuma and Chronos could see that sword path with their naked eyes.
A sword surpassing human limits.
So transcendental it could crush even the blind elf swordsman’s sword path.
The sword strike was charging in.
“Kwahaha!”
Laughter erupted from Chronos’s mouth.
Indeed.
Is this what the pinnacle of swords is?
Silence.
The sword path that has reached the pinnacle is eerily calm.
Like the death approaching him.
“Beautiful!!”
Chronos felt true pleasure.
He felt a sensation grander than any moment in seventy years.
Swish────────────clang!!
A white light swept past Chronos’s body.
It was the transcendent sword path he had always idolized.
Chronos’s body slowly tilted to the ground.
Thick blood gushed from his mouth.
Yuma, dragging his screaming body, slowly approached Chronos.
“…Thank you.”
Chronos gazed at Yuma with his one eye and said, “Thank you… for letting me experience the pinnacle of the sword.”
Yuma silently watched the dying Chronos.
“No one… will dispute your title as Sword God, great swordsman.”
It was as if Chronos passed on his title.
As if he handed over the sword path he had walked all this time.
Chronos’s single eye slowly closed, and soon his breath ceased completely.
‘Shit.’
Yuma furrowed his brow.
That pinnacle of the sword, your sword path.
That great and transcendent sword path is just your sword path.
It merely returned your sword strike. How could he even say that?
