Master and Disciple (2)

The moment I saw the pure white blade emerging from the rough scabbard, I felt like I was submerged underwater.

Swish.

As the sword was drawn further, the pressure crushing everything around intensified, creating a sensation like spider webs entangling my limbs.

The majesty of an absolute master.

I had expected it. That Master’s strength would be extraordinary even by any standard.

But I didn’t want to confirm it like this, on a random roadside.

“…Battle positions!”

Words that barely escaped my mouth.

Once Master had drawn his sword, there was no way to resolve this with words.

I don’t know why he’s pointing his sword at us, but at least one thing is certain: he was waiting for us here. He drew his sword immediately upon meeting.

A coincidental encounter on the road?

There’s no way such a coincidence is possible.

Setting Master aside, my teacher would have been able to deduce my movements. She seemed to have easily figured out that I had become an apostle.

Thud.

The moment Master, who had drawn his sword halfway, took a step forward.

At that moment, everyone sprang into action.

We instinctively understood. Once the sword is fully drawn, it’s already too late.

Titan, who couldn’t grab his weapon because he was pulling the carriage, had only managed to arm himself with a dagger.

Claire seemed to be trying to make up for her lack of mobility by leaping into the air and beginning to don her armor.

Línea moved to the side in a low stance, keeping her eyes fixed on the opponent.

And I, like Master, charged forward with my sword drawn.

Slash!

And at the moment the sword was fully drawn.

“What…?”

My body, which had clearly been charging toward Master, was sent flying through the air.

Not just me.

All my companions, who were trying to pressure Master from different directions, were in a similar situation.

We didn’t even see the attack.

“Kuk!”

Master rotates his wrist as if merely stretching out stiffness.

And just as he had drawn his sword, he slowly assumes a stance.

I know what that stance is.

A technique I’ve used dozens, hundreds of times, yet still cannot fully bear the burden of.

Horizon.

Whoosh!

The power behind it goes without saying.

In this moment, if we don’t give it our all, our bodies falling to the ground will be sliced precisely along the horizon that divides heaven and earth.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

I deliberately attached heavy weights to the ends of my chains. No matter what sharp blade I might employ, I can’t envision it reaching Master’s body.

So from the start, I’m not aiming at Master but at his surroundings. The falling weights raise dust from the ground, parched by the hot weather.

“Hah!”

Yes, all I did was obstruct his vision.

Right now, that’s the best move I could think of.

Whoosh!

I immediately bind my companions.

Aiming my gun barrel while looking at my companions suspended by chains in midair.

I promptly empty all the bullets loaded in the cylinder.

Blocking vision and hearing, temporarily stopping movement. Of course, it’s hard to think Master wouldn’t be able to counter just that much.

But at least I’ve temporarily blocked two of his senses.

He might be able to perceive us, but there’s no way he can track each of the dozens, hundreds of moving chains.

“Titan!”

With a clanking sound, one of the chains that had been colliding with each other and scraping the ground brings Titan’s hammer.

It’s an absurdly heavy weight.

Just pulling it up makes my shoulders ache.

“Hmm!”

But at least I’ve delivered the weapon.

Titan, who had been suspended by chains, grabs the handle of the hammer and drops downward.

A strike enhanced by weight and strength.

I don’t think it will work, but at least it’ll draw his attention.

Craaack!

Master will be watching Titan. To counter that massive falling strike, he’ll likely take some measure.

That’s why I scraped the ground.

Like a snake, I moved some of the chains I had spread out in all directions to block his senses, sweeping the spot where Master had been standing.

And at that moment, I realize:

“He’s gone…?”

Master was no longer grounded.

By the time I extended my chains, he was already gone from that spot.

Whether Master read my move or Titan’s, I’m not sure, but he had jumped into the air.

And then he meets Titan’s massive downward strike by leaping upward, countering it in midair while under the influence of gravity.

He responds to a weight-based attack in the most unfair way.

That’s because he’s confident in his overwhelming skill.

“Tch!”

The situation seems overwhelmingly advantageous for Titan.

It’s a battle between a sword and a hammer.

Generally speaking, the mere collision itself is disadvantageous for the sword.

Unless the sword can cut through steel, that is. Titan’s hammer is a treasure of the Malachite Kingdom. It possesses an absurd durability that could even block an aura blade.

Yet the moment I saw Master, I instinctively knew.

That’s why I extended chains around Titan’s neck, pulling him backward.

“…”

Barely, Titan’s trajectory shifts as he’s pulled by the chains.

Master’s sword just grazes the edge of Titan’s hammer.

The pure white blade, without even being coated with ordinary mana, let alone aura, cuts through the edge of the hammer without any resistance.

I was right.

If I had just watched Titan clash with Master, Titan’s body would have been sliced in half along with the hammer.

Cold sweat runs down my back.

I feel as if the world has slowed down. Master’s position is now the same as ours, suspended in midair.

Though Master’s gaze is indifferently directed downward, I feel as if he’s staring directly into my eyes.

“Kuk!”

Is that why? It was almost an instinctual judgment.

I deployed Canopus’s Jar. Canopus’s Jar, symbolizing human organs like the liver, stomach, lungs, intestines.

A sacred magic of the ritual system, weaving together the powers of four gods. Its ability: enhancing all actions that will be taken next.

It’s a power allowed only to heresy inquisitors, which I’m using for the first time since Pinocchio.

“Ugh…!”

I felt something rising from within. I held it back.

Because now is not yet the time.

I steady my consciousness, stained with pain. The key is how to unleash the power enhanced by Canopus’s Jar.

The forbidden worship of death gods.

The sentence of death, designated as heresy and having its faith eradicated.

I call out the name of a god known only to heresy inquisitors.

“Pluto!”

The king of the underworld, the god who rules the realm of the dead.

The one who symbolizes death itself.

I borrow the scythe that harvests lives.

“Hah!”

And I swung it directly at Master. I didn’t entertain the stupid thought that Master might die.

If I don’t do this, we will die.

And the big problem is that even after going this far, I can’t believe I can kill Master.

“Truly…”

For the first time, emotion crosses Master’s previously expressionless face.

A disappointment tinged with chilliness.

And the moment I saw that.

“Disappointing.”

Was the last time we could resist Master.

*     *      *

“Gak!”

It was just like when Master first drew his sword. I was taken down without even knowing what he’d done.

I don’t think I fainted, but when I came to my senses, my body was pinned to the ground with a sword at my throat.

I couldn’t get up. Obviously, I couldn’t rise with a sword at my neck, but even without that, I wouldn’t have been able to.

It felt like becoming an insect caught in a spider’s web.

How long had it been since I’d cowered under such oppressive pressure, unable to even move?

“Why is this happening?”

“…”

The reason Master is here is clearly related to my teacher.

After all, how absurdly unlikely is it that someone who can barely find his way would be blocking the exact path to Alfheim?

That’s why I couldn’t understand.

I never knew my teacher’s purpose before, but I don’t understand why he wants to eliminate me now.

There were plenty of opportunities for that.

If so, there’s also a possibility this is Master’s independent decision.

What was Master like in my memories? He was a desolate person.

He was as harsh as my teacher, but unlike her, he never did anything to protect me.

Just like a living weapon. Nevertheless, I clearly respected Master for his efforts.

“Why are you trying to kill me?”

“Why, you ask…”

Master’s expression, looking down at me, was infinitely cold.

As if devoid of emotion.

“I don’t understand the meaning of your question.”

Master resembles my teacher.

Both raised me with severe teachings.

However, my teacher clearly had a gentle side. I could tell she loved me. I thought Master was similarly awkward but caring in his own way.

But I realized Master and my teacher were completely different types of people.

Because after all…

“Is it strange for a master to check his disciple’s sword skills?”

“Communication, please…!”

Master was a person with even less common sense than I had when I was young.

*     *      *

How could anyone think of a sparring match when someone blocks the road and draws their sword without a word?

Yes, there’s a major flaw in Master’s communication style.

How can one possibly deduce his incomprehensible, isolated thoughts?

“Hmm, the soup is salty.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“I like it salty. What Revenna makes tends to be bland.”

“Thank you?”

“But that’s probably better for the body…”

“Ah, should I make it again?”

“It’s fine.”

“Yes…”

“Having lived this long, there’s no need to cling to life anymore.”

“I’ll just make it again!”

Línea couldn’t maintain her composure faced with Master’s spicy communication style.

There were two major issues with Master’s way of speaking.

One was thinking things without verbalizing them.

And the other was verbalizing thoughts without thinking.

A maddening combination.

Not saying anything important while freely spilling all sorts of random thoughts.

“Ah… Come to think of it, Lost. Your sword skills have improved a lot.”

“Didn’t you say you were disappointed earlier?”

“Did I? When did I say that?”

“No… Never mind.”

And with high probability, he doesn’t remember words he utters without filtering through his thoughts.

I wonder if dealing with a senile old man would be easier than this crazy person.

“Hmm, this food is tender.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll make it again for you.”

At Master’s comment while eating the food Línea had newly prepared, she reacts intensely as if traumatized. It’s truly sad that she can’t even distinguish whether “tender” is a compliment or criticism.

I was surprised she reacted so strongly, but I just went with it.

Línea must have her own thoughts about it.

“Hmm.”

Master puts down the food he was eating on the floor and contemplates.

And Línea looks at the set-down plate, seemingly wondering if she needs to make new food again.

“Ah… Lost. Your sword technique seems to have stagnated. Being able to use aura is a remarkable growth, but the swordsmanship itself has remained stationary.”

“So you were disappointed after all. And what’s with the ‘Ah…’ you keep adding at the beginning?”

Is that possibly my name?

Is my forgotten name something that starts with ‘Ah’?

I never imagined I’d find a clue about my real name this way.

“Revenna told me not to say.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense. While we’re on the topic, can I ask you something?”

“Revenna told me not to say.”

“No…”

Was my teacher nagging him this much behind my back?

I didn’t know she could control Master’s mouth so perfectly.

“…Can’t you at least tell us why you came looking for us?”

“Hmm, that’s true.”

Master nods and picks up the plate that Línea was subtly trying to clear away.

While Línea flinches in surprise, Master takes another bite of the food.

“…”

He’s eating it well, munching away.

“…”

Judging by the way he’s nodding, it seems he liked Línea’s food despite what he said.

Anyway.

“So, are you going to tell us or not?”

“Hmm…? Didn’t I tell you already?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I see.”

Was he perhaps thinking it but not saying it out loud again?

He’s truly unpredictable.

“Revenna said.”

After a long period of perseverance, I finally got Master to open his mouth.

The first words Master uttered in this glorious situation were…

“That you will all die.”

“Ah, yes… You’re really giving us such good news.”

“It’s not that bad.”

His words were devastatingly negative, without even the pretense of softening the blow.

“That’s why I came.”

“Master, if you don’t explain exactly what you came to do, your one and only disciple might die of frustration.”

“That would be truly unfortunate.”

“…”

“…”

“No, so please tell me.”

Don’t just think it, say it!

Did he come to stop me? Or to give advice?

Since my last encounter with my teacher wasn’t in the best form, I understand if she used this frustrating, incommunicable master to deliver a message.

It would have been several times better if she had just written a letter and sent it with him.

I struggled once more to extract the answer from Master.

When I finally filtered through Master’s thoughts that he speaks without thinking and extracted an answer:

“So I came to help.”

“…What?”

“I said I came to help clear the path to Alfheim.”

His answer was truly rewarding for all the suffering.

“Hmm, this meat is a bit tough.”

“I-I’ll make it again for you…”

And simultaneously.

It was also accompanied by a future suggesting that the journey ahead would be far from smooth.