Karon, the Sword Saint, was an oddity.

Who would dare call a Sword Master who had attained transcendence an oddity? And yet there was no other way to describe the man.

One day, he would abruptly leave for the Demon Realm and return with an armful of high-ranking demons’ heads. Another day, he would venture near Camlann and slaughter the cursed things crossing its borders. Then you would find him swinging his sword on the Battlefield of Stars.

And that was not all.

Having acquired some fine liquor, he would visit the stellar domains of the Constellations in the night sky to share a drink. Or he would vault over the palace walls under the vigilant eyes of the guards and have a drink with the emperor.

A man given to eccentric exploits, utterly impossible to predict.

Yet even though Karon was an oddity among oddities, the world did not consider him all that dangerous. The values he upheld were far too clear.

The sword, righteousness, and chivalry.

Just as the knights of Atanga bound themselves with honor and pride, the Sword Saint bound himself with righteousness and chivalry. Uninterested in power or prestige, he devoted himself to whatever he believed was right.

His head held nothing but the sword.

He had no interest in politics or power.

No one even knew what he sought.

But even Karon had a purpose.

He always said that he had to reach the ultimate heights. That he had to acquire more stars and grow stronger. This was not merely the mindset of someone challenging his own limits.

Why did he hunger for strength?

Once, Karon had answered that question thus:

「To fulfill the Order of the Sword’s cherished wish.」

The world did not know what that wish was.

Only Karon and the successive Sword Saints who had led the Order of the Sword knew its true nature. Rather than a cherished wish, it was closer to a duty—a destiny.

Karon pondered that wish.

To fulfill it, they needed a monster who would surpass even him, a man hailed as a once-in-an-era genius. Ordinary means would not even bring them close to the Order’s cherished wish. That was why Karon kept searching.

For someone with the potential to surpass him.

Someone who would show him what came next.

‘Now, what about you?’

The Sword Saint looked at the young man before him.

It was time to take a closer look. To see how much talent he possessed. Whether he could become the person Karon had been searching for. And how was he to judge this young man’s worth?

The answer could not have been simpler.

‘With the sword.’

If something needed testing, test it with the sword.

Such was the way of the Order of the Sword.

2.

Najin looked at Karon.

Scabbard in hand, Karon had not moved a single step, as though inviting him to attack. It was not arrogance. It was the composure of the strong. Najin could not deny that.

Because it was the truth.

Even if he gave everything he had and drew Excalibur as well, he did not think he could win. The gulf between him and Karon was one even the holy sword could not bridge.

A man who had reached the pinnacle of the sword.

A mighty being who stood shoulder to shoulder with the Constellations in the night sky.

‘You said he has six stars, right?’

-Right. He could ascend and become a Constellation whenever he wanted, but he’s still here on earth.

He remained in the mortal world despite being capable of becoming a star in the night sky. Najin slowly steadied his breathing and lowered his sword. Opportunities to experience the pinnacle were rare. Though he had no idea why this one had come his way, he knew exactly how precious it was.

And because he knew, he had no intention of taking it lightly.

"Whew..."

A single breath.

A current surged through Najin’s body. Now that everyone knew he could wield sword aura, there was no reason to hide it anymore. Pure-white sword aura wrapped around his blade.

"...!"

Volkman’s eyes widened as he watched the two spar. Awakening sword aura in a mere month made no sense. The correct conclusion was that Najin had already known how to wield it when they crossed swords back then.

‘So he was hiding his strength.’

Volkman smiled. He was not disappointed by that fact. If anything, he was simply intrigued to see how far Najin could go against Karon.

And Karon?

He still produced no sword aura. He merely watched Najin, scabbard in hand. Najin kicked off the ground with a bang and charged him at a speed already beyond the level of a Sword Expert.

WHOOSH!

Accelerating in an instant, Najin swung his sword. A lightning-fast strike. Both his stance and the arc of his blade were clean. Even to Mid-Ranking Priest Volkman, it was a flawless blow.

But not to Karon.

Karon lightly swung his scabbard. It moved neither slowly nor quickly. Approaching at a moderate speed, it touched Najin’s shoulder as he swung his sword. Karon then extended the scabbard straight forward.

That alone broke Najin’s stance.

His blade’s path twisted, and he lost his balance, tipping backward. He barely managed to twist his body and avoid falling... but his eyes were wavering.

TAP.

Najin immediately recovered his stance and charged Karon again. But once, twice, three times... all the way to five, the same thing happened.

Karon lightly swung his scabbard.

And that alone broke Najin’s stance.

It was not even a proper strike, nor was it a fast one. Karon thrust his scabbard at a speed similar to Najin’s, or slower. Yet he broke Najin’s stance with incredible ease.

How?

Najin knew the answer. Gaps in his stance. Unstable points. Karon struck precisely at the tiny openings invisible to an ordinary person’s eyes.

‘In that case...’

Najin let out a short breath and adjusted his grip.

"... It’s begun."

Watching him, Volkman clicked his tongue.

Karon’s sparring matches usually went this way. He restricted his sword to the same speed as his opponent’s, or slower. Yet that restriction meant nothing...

Karon utterly overwhelmed them.

He struck at their openings, shattered their sword’s path, read and broke their stance, and blocked every blow without leaving his spot. Being overwhelmed by someone who clearly swung slower than you could not be called pleasant, even as an empty compliment.

‘It feels as though your sword is being rejected.’

As though you yourself were being rejected.

That was why so many people were reluctant to spar with Karon. Though there was much to gain, recovering their shattered pride took a long time.

How would this young man fare?

He must have been aware of his own excellence.

The blow would probably be considerable. As Volkman watched with that thought, Najin charged Karon in exactly the same stance as before. Could he not accept that his swordsmanship had openings? Volkman was clicking his tongue at the thought when—

The instant Karon thrust his scabbard, Najin’s movements changed completely.

That opening had already been struck once. The moment it was exposed, Najin had worked out how to close it and how to correct his stance. Breaking his body’s movements into a sequence and discarding the faulty images was not difficult for him.

The opening Karon had intended to strike was closed. Without stepping back, Karon lightly swung his scabbard. For the first time, Najin’s sword met Karon’s scabbard.

Without sword aura, one could not block a blade coated in sword aura.

That was common knowledge, but Sword Masters stood above common knowledge. Though Karon’s scabbard bore no sword aura, it caught and deflected Najin’s blade with extraordinary ease. The current flowing over the scabbard made it possible.

SKRRRRRANG!

But Najin did not panic.

He immediately shifted his stance and unleashed a series of strikes at Karon. As his accelerating blade swung, Karon’s scabbard repeatedly found his openings.

His stance broke, and he was shoved away and sent rolling across the ground.

But only the first time. Najin never exposed an opening twice once it had been struck. Swordsmen said that an established stance was like a habit, difficult to correct. But there were exceptions to everything.

‘What in the...’

Volkman’s eyes widened as he watched Najin correct his stance and close his openings in real time.

‘I see.’

A smile formed on Karon’s lips.

He could more or less understand why Volkman had thought so highly of the young man before him. His talent was certainly exceptional. He knew how to control his own body.

And...

Karon’s eyes narrowed.

In Najin’s blade, Karon sensed Atanga’s swordsmanship, saw the rough swordplay of mercenaries, and recognized Volkman’s sword as well. Several styles were mingled in the young man’s sword. But they had not fully melded together.

He was merely imitating others.

It was not a sword solely his own.

‘Did he say the boy has a talent for copying and imitation?’

Then perhaps it was time to see for himself.

He had done enough probing of openings. To exploit any more, he would have to swing faster than the young man. So Karon adjusted his grip on the scabbard.

Taking his stance, he unleashed the Order’s swordsmanship.

The position of Sword Saint, the pinnacle of the Order of the Sword, was not granted simply for becoming a Sword Master. It was a title attained only by reaching the ultimate heights of every sword style and every stance within the Order.

Of the three living Sword Masters, none could defeat Karon in a contest of pure swordsmanship. Such was the extraordinary nature of the heights he had reached.

"...!"

At last, Karon was using a technique.

Najin’s eyes widened. This was not a technique that changed sword aura’s shape or endowed it with properties... but one performed purely through bodily movement.

He could imitate such a technique if he saw it.

As long as he saw it, he could reproduce it without limit.

Najin was certain of that. It had always been true, and he had never failed once. He focused his eyes, intending to absorb Karon’s swordsmanship whole and make it his sustenance.

‘I saw it. I pictured it in my mind.’

Blocking the blow, Najin was pushed backward.

It was certainly different from Volkman’s. Though both used the Order’s swordsmanship, the degree of perfection was different. Indeed, if Karon could swing like this, Najin’s sword must look riddled with openings to him.

Najin marveled at the stance pictured in his mind. Where Volkman’s swordsmanship had taken some thirteen images, the Sword Saint’s took more than a hundred.

Blood trickled down.

His nose stung, then began to bleed. His bloodshot eyes burned. He had only seen a single stance, yet it felt as though his brain had overloaded.

"You’re confident in your ability to imitate, are you?"

Karon looked at Najin and gave his scabbard a little flick.

"Steal as much as you like. Try to copy as much as you like."

He was smiling.

"As long as you can steal it, I’m ready to show you every sword I possess."

Try it, if you can.

That was what Karon was saying. Najin wiped his nose with the back of his hand and smiled. If Karon was going to be so generous, there was no reason to refuse.

GRIT.

Clenching his teeth, Najin moved.

He swung his sword according to the images drawn in his mind. But at some point, he realized that his body was drifting slightly out of alignment with those images.

Number 34, number 41, number 56...

Seven images in all were out of alignment.

Of course, that was only a tiny fraction of more than a hundred images. At a glance, Najin appeared to have stolen Karon’s swordsmanship, and to an ordinary observer, his blade’s path looked perfect...

But Najin, who was swinging the sword, and Karon, who was watching, both knew.

Those discrepancies had created openings. This strike was incomplete. Karon lightly thrust his scabbard into an opening. Najin’s stance crumbled, and he tumbled across the ground.

"..."

Sitting on the ground, Najin stared blankly at the sword in his hand. The images had gone out of alignment. This was the first time they had ever gone wrong like this. He recalled the mismatched images in his mind.

When he moved his body, he felt something was off.

Parts of those images were impossible to reproduce, however he moved. He was pondering those parts and rising to his feet when Karon spoke.

"You seem to be thinking you can’t copy it."

Karon pointed his scabbard at Najin.

"Isn’t that only natural?"

He spoke indifferently.

"This is my sword. Mine alone, refined to suit my body, my breathing, and my speed."

He said it as though stating the obvious.

"Even if you steal it, how does that make it yours? This belongs to me. To me alone."

His eyes narrowed.

"You certainly have an innate talent for imitation. It’s astonishing. But there’s no meaning in stopping at mere imitation."

He swept his scabbard through the air.

The path of the sword Najin hastily drew back was shattered with incredible ease. Najin looked at the scabbard poised right against his neck.

"Where is your sword?"

Karon asked.

The Sword Saint asked him about the sword.

"Show me your sword. If you don’t have one yet, make it here and now. If you cannot..."

Karon’s eyes turned cold.

"This spar will be worthless. If all you can do is copy, your sword will never reach the ultimate heights."

And I have no intention of wasting time on a worthless contest.

That was the Sword Saint’s declaration. Najin fell silent for a moment, then let out a laugh. Karon had suddenly challenged him, only to judge its worth as he pleased. Of course, Najin could have dismissed the Sword Saint’s words as nonsense and ignored them...

His hand darted out.

Instead of ignoring him, Najin reached for the scabbard aimed at his neck. Frowning at the sudden attempt to seize it, the Sword Saint was about to withdraw the scabbard when—

Najin seized it firmly.

His hand closed around the scabbard in a movement that seemed to anticipate its path precisely. At that movement, the Sword Saint narrowed his eyes.

"If this spar becomes worthwhile..."

Still gripping the scabbard, Najin asked,

"What can I gain from it?"

An utterly audacious question.

The Sword Saint burst out laughing. Najin’s refusal to be intimidated by a Sword Master, his bold gaze and forthright voice, were refreshing.

"My trust. And a teacher."

"A teacher?"

"I mean I’ll become your teacher. Provided, of course, that you want it."

Najin smiled.

"That sounds good."

Releasing the scabbard, Najin stepped back a few paces. Karon had asked for his sword. Said he had nothing to offer but imitation. And the Sword Saint was certainly right.

He had never thought about having something of his own.

But Najin was not good-natured enough to let that treatment slide. Somehow, he would throw something unexpected at his opponent. He would not be satisfied until he saw surprise on the Sword Saint’s face.

He did not yet know what his own sword was...

But something unexpected. Something his alone—he did have one such thing. Something he had been born with and had unconsciously honed all this time.

His keen sight, and his instantaneous judgment.

Something that had now reached the point of glimpsing the immediate future.

Najin’s eyes gleamed with the colors of sunset.