Karon, the Sword Saint, sensed something amiss.

He studied the young man standing before him. His sunset-colored eyes were bloodshot, and the pupils of those wide-open eyes had contracted as far as they could.

'They resemble Sir Gerd’s eyes.'

Gerd, the empire’s Sword Master.

The empire’s greatest swordsman, a man who surpassed Karon in every field except swordsmanship—the strongest human alive, in the truest sense. In Najin’s eyes, Karon caught a glimpse of Gerd’s.

They looked nothing alike, but the feeling they gave him was similar. Eyes that sent a shiver through him the moment he met their gaze.

"..."

Karon silently looked down at his scabbard.

A moment ago, Najin had caught it. As though he could see the immediate future. The movement Najin had shown in that fleeting instant had undeniably been strange.

... A movement that anticipated the future.

And then there was his uncanny ability to reproduce something after seeing it only once—even the years someone had devoted to it. When Najin had imitated Karon’s movements earlier, only a tiny fraction had eluded him.

Those were the elements Karon had perfected after becoming a Sword Master. Apart from movements possible only for a superhuman who had crossed that barrier, Najin had accurately imitated almost everything. The precision was chilling.

Imitation without his own judgment was still incomplete, but that precision itself was undeniable.

'Imitation, and brief glimpses of the immediate future.'

The information began fitting together in his mind.

'Surely not.'

The pieces fell into place. A conclusion emerged.

Surely not, Karon thought, letting out a disbelieving chuckle. If his suspicion was correct, the young man’s true talent lay not in the sword itself.

A smile formed on Karon’s lips.

Meeting Najin’s bloodshot gaze, he was about to close his eyes and open them again, but instead readjusted his grip on his weapon. Not yet. He needed to see a little more first.

"Show me."

Karon flicked his scabbard.

Whatever it might be, he welcomed it.

Show me.

What makes you special. What makes you worth my time.

2.

The view before his eyes was different.

The world Najin saw through his bloodshot eyes was no longer the same. Since coming to Cambria, he had grown through countless experiences. Naturally, what those eyes could see had changed as well.

Contracted pupils. Bloodshot eyes.

The world reflected in them was a mass of information. Countless pieces of it surged into Najin’s mind like waves. But, as always, he discarded everything unnecessary and focused solely on the opponent before him.

Karon, the Sword Saint.

His exhalations. His stance. The minute movements of his muscles. The sway of his clothes and the movements of his eyes. Using that information, Najin predicted the immediate future. Insight and vision beyond the bounds of common sense made it possible.

In the underground city.

In the City of Opportunity.

In his battle with the Demon Knight.

Through combat, flight, pursuit, and countless other situations, Najin had trusted his eyes. This time was no different. But... at the same time, he knew instinctively.

'I can’t keep this up for long.'

He had maintained it throughout the battle with the Demon Knight, but he sensed that he could not sustain this vision for very long now. Too much information was pouring into his eyes.

The man standing before him was a Sword Master.

A superhuman who had transcended ordinary mortals.

A being akin to a transcendent, reigning above common sense.

However exceptional Najin’s eyesight might be, there was no way he could fully predict Karon’s movements at his current level. There was simply too much information to process.

Blood trickled down.

His nose, which had stopped bleeding, began to bleed again. His head throbbed. Yet Najin brushed it all aside with a single laugh and took a step forward. Then, with a boom, he kicked off the ground and charged at Karon.

Karon moved only after seeing Najin move.

Deliberately, he reacted a beat late.

The moment Karon moved, the future Najin foresaw wavered. Unlike the enemies he had faced before, Karon’s movements were not clear, but hazy. It meant he was still beyond what Najin’s eyes could capture.

'So what?'

He could see it. Could picture it, however faintly.

That was enough. Najin’s eyes darted swiftly. As he ducked his upper body, Karon’s scabbard swept past just above his head.

Keeping low, he took another step.

As he closed in, Najin unleashed his swordsmanship. His own swordsmanship, blending the Order’s techniques with those he had developed independently in the underground city. Karon had called it incomplete and judged it worthless.

He did not deny it.

He was still inexperienced.

When imitating someone, Najin did adapt the movements somewhat to suit his body and refine his stance... but he knew that the sword Karon wanted him to call his own amounted to far more than that.

'I couldn’t actually imitate the Sword Saint’s sword.'

Complete control over one’s own body.

A sword that only its wielder could wield.

Swordsmanship not merely mastered, but perfectly internalized and fully optimized. That was how Karon’s sword had been perfected, and Najin had been unable to steal it.

No matter how he tried to adapt it to his body, the images simply would not align.

Najin was still too inexperienced to interpret Karon’s sword in his own way and adapt it to his body. His understanding of the sword as a weapon was insufficient, and he had not committed countless sword styles to memory as Karon had.

He was lacking. Inexperienced.

He had no intention of denying that.

But what Karon wanted was an unpredictable element. Something special that belonged to Najin alone. And Najin knew he could show him plenty of that, even without a sword entirely his own.

WHOOSH.

In a fleeting instant, Najin’s sword accelerated. Karon’s scabbard, which had been about to casually knock it aside, accelerated as well.

SKRRRRR!

Karon narrowed his eyes as he guided Najin’s blade along his scabbard and deflected it.

He was faster. Faster than before.

And it was not merely his speed. Each time Karon tried to strike an opening, Najin immediately twisted his body to keep his stance from collapsing, as though he knew exactly where the strike would come.

I admit that I am incomplete. But if I know you will strike at my weaknesses... I can at least stop you.

That was what his movements seemed to proclaim.

Karon liked that grit.

He liked that tenacity.

'Well, now.'

A smile spread across his lips.

He wanted to see more. To discover a little more of what the young man before him possessed. His scabbard accelerated to match the increased speed of Najin’s sword.

Sword and scabbard collided. The aura-clad blade and the scabbard deflected one another, caught one another, and thrust inward.

Karon still moved with ease, but Najin was no longer sent rolling across the ground or driven helplessly back. He clung on doggedly, swinging his sword. Neither spoke, but through their clashing weapons, Karon read Najin’s thoughts.

How long do you intend to target nothing but openings?

I won’t learn anything that way, will I?

That was what his sword seemed to say. Karon burst into a hearty laugh and accepted Najin’s invitation. Very well. I will show you as much as you like. He forcefully pushed Najin’s sword aside and moved in. For the first time, Karon left his spot.

Karon, who never moved from his spot even when sparring with Sword Seekers, took a step forward as though to overwhelm Najin.

THUD.

Stamping down on the ground, Karon swung his weapon. A strike descending from above like a guillotine. A strike that joined perfect movement with perfect breathing. Even though Karon was matching his speed, Najin had to strain wide-eyed to block it.

Even knowing where it would come from, stopping that strike was no easy task.

His knees nearly buckled on impact. His fingers trembled around his sword. With a crack, the ground beneath his feet split.

SKR-R-R-R.

But it did not end with one strike. The instant Najin blocked it, Karon’s scabbard flowed along the flat of his blade like a river and shot straight toward his neck. The transition from slash to thrust was utterly seamless.

"...!"

Because he had read it in advance, Najin managed to twist his sword and divert the flow before the scabbard reached his throat. But control of that flow had already passed to Karon. The Order of the Sword’s techniques created a flow, cornering the opponent by linking one stance to the next.

Some said the Order’s swordsmanship resembled a great tree.

Stances that began from a single trunk and branched into hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of variations. It was effectively a system with an answer for every situation that could arise in a sword fight. The Order of the Sword studied the sword, and over hundreds of years, its members had developed their swordsmanship.

Ways to link sword strikes.

Responses when an opponent blocked a blow.

Transitions from defense to offense.

Ways to respond and counterattack when an opponent closed in.

Even a single situation offered dozens of possible responses. For the Sword Saint, who had memorized and mastered every one of them—all those tens of thousands of stances—a sword fight... was merely a process of choosing the correct answer.

'It’s like waves.'

As he parried the Sword Saint’s weapon, Najin felt as though he stood in the middle of a vast, wave-tossed ocean. Waves raged around him. Swept along by that immense current, he felt he might sink beneath the sea at any moment.

This was a Sword Master’s swordsmanship.

This was the pinnacle of the Order.

He had felt the flow his opponent created when fighting Volkman, too, but the Sword Saint’s sword was beyond comparison. Karon was creating a current that could never be resisted.

'Even though I’m predicting the future...'

He could not fight against the flow.

Najin’s eyes were screaming. The future he foresaw grew so blurred that it began to look like whitish fog. He was driven back, again and again.

Even so, Najin etched it into his mind.

Karon’s sword. The pinnacle of swordsmanship he was demonstrating. Even if Najin could not yet imitate it, it was a lesson that would become part of him, rich fertilizer for his growth.

'I want it.'

The sword the Sword Saint possessed.

That understanding of the sword.

That beautiful swordsmanship.

'More. I want to see...'

He wanted to see a little more. But he could not draw out the Sword Saint’s sword as he was. So Najin made a choice. Rather than let himself be driven back like this, he would take a gamble. He opened his eyes wide.

Tiny blood vessels burst, staining his vision red.

But for one fleeting instant, Najin read Karon’s sword precisely. The future was clear. He witnessed the trajectory traced by Karon’s scabbard—what accomplished swordsmen called a sword’s path.

Najin’s sword moved late. Yet even so, it blocked Karon’s weapon with extraordinary ease.

He could see its trajectory. He knew where to intercept it. The moment Najin blocked the strike, Karon’s eyes widened. Still staring wide-eyed, Najin took a step toward him.

Three more times.

His throbbing eyes could manage only three more, and he intended to land a blow within those three. Through blocking Karon’s sword, Najin had witnessed the pinnacle and experienced it firsthand. For anyone, not only Najin, that was an invaluable experience.

Once the spar ended, a swordsman would sit cross-legged, review the exchange, and organize what they had learned. Then they would face a wall alone and swing their sword, refining their stance based on that review.

That was the process swordsmen ordinarily followed after a valuable experience. That was how they gained insight.

But Najin had no need for such a cumbersome process. Insight could come even during battle. There was no reason to put it off.

'So...'

He called hundreds of images to mind.

The dozens, the hundreds of images Karon had shown him unfurled in Najin’s head. He understood how Karon swung his sword, when he put force into it, and when he relaxed.

'Like this.'

Because he understood.

WHOOSH!

Najin imitated Karon’s sword in his own way. It was not enough to call it a sword belonging to Najin alone. It remained imitation, not creation. And yet...

The strike Najin unleashed did not look worthless to the Sword Saint.

At the very least, there was no way to block it while remaining at the same level as Najin. And so Karon smiled. The Sword Saint acknowledged the worth the young man before him had shown.

Because he acknowledged it, he closed his eyes and opened them again. When he did, what appeared in those eyes was the immediate future. It was the exclusive province of Sword Masters, something akin to a symbol of those superhumans who had surpassed the limits of humanity.

Glimpsing the immediate future, predicting it through insight.

The same ability Najin possessed. Yet Karon had acquired it only after reaching the realm of a Sword Master. He used it now, as a gesture of respect toward the young man before him.

CRASH!

The future Najin had been watching shattered. The future he foresaw no longer matched the present. It was a phenomenon that occurred when two visions of the immediate future collided. Najin had never experienced it before. His eyes widened.

Karon’s hand clamped down.

He reached out and caught Najin’s swinging sword. Despite catching sword aura with his bare hand, he did not suffer so much as a scratch. Holding the blade, Karon lowered his scabbard, as though signaling the end of the spar.

"This is beyond absurd."

Karon gave a disbelieving chuckle.

"A Sword Expert who can read a sword’s path. I can say with certainty that you are the only one in the empire’s history."

He had been uncertain when Najin caught his scabbard, but after this, there could be no doubt. The young man before him possessed the same ability to glimpse the immediate future as superhumans did.

'What kind of insight does he have?'

Sword Masters crossed the barrier, surpassed the limits of their own bodies, and entered the realm of superhumans. Even they only just managed to acquire the ability to glimpse the immediate future...

Yet this young man already possessed it.

If he continued to grow and reached the realm of a Sword Master... Karon could not even begin to imagine how far those eyes might see.

"I acknowledge your worth."

He had no choice but to acknowledge it.

The worth the young man possessed. That glimpse of the potential to surpass Karon himself. With a laugh, Karon released Najin’s sword.

His talent was one thing.

But there was also his determination to throw himself fearlessly into danger for victory, and the way he improved even in those brief moments. Karon acknowledged the worth of the strike that had resulted.

"That final strike was excellent."

He had witnessed an excellent sword strike.

Then he ought to offer something in return. Merely showing it would help the young man. Having released Najin’s sword, Karon walked over to the weapon he had planted in the ground before the spar began.

Fastening his scabbard at his waist, Karon reached for the sword embedded in the earth. And the moment he drew that real blade free, everything changed.

The atmosphere transformed. The flow reversed. Though a fair distance separated them, Najin felt as if a blade were pressed against his neck. He was not the only one. Mid-Ranking Priest Volkman, watching the spar from far away, felt the same sensation.

Karon adjusted his grip. His sword aura rose from the blade. Holding his sword, he looked at Najin.

"Do not move."

A single warning.

Then Karon swung his sword.