I Pulled Out the Excalibur

Sword Expert.
Sword Seeker.
Sword Master.

These categorizations, primarily distinguished by the quality of sword aura, were as clear and distinct as they could be. However, this was only true for the stages of ‘Sword Seeker’ and ‘Sword Expert.’

Sword Masters are different.
They are, in a sense, entities of another kind.

There was such a vast gap between Seekers and Masters that there were arguments about the need for an intermediate stage.

Sword Seekers often say that they feel a massive wall is placed before them.

As they hone their skills and diligently pursue mastery, they approach this wall. The wall they eventually face is so immense that no matter how high they look, its end is nowhere in sight. In front of this wall, many Sword Seekers end up laughing bitterly.

All this talk of Experts and Seekers.

They often feel a sense of futility, questioning the utility of these classifications and wondering if their years of training have been meaningless. The towering wall before them seems to say:

The world is simply divided into two.

Sword Masters and everyone else.

Superhumans transcending human limits and mere mortals.

Even those who have reached the level of Sword Seeker are reduced to mere mortals in their presence. These are the Sword Masters, entities beyond clear definition.

「How do you distinguish a Sword Master if Sword Experts are recognized by their ability to draw out sword aura and Sword Seekers by infusing their sword aura with sentiment?」

Someone once asked this question to the First Sword Saint. He burst into laughter and responded:

「Is there even a need to categorize?」

Simply, he replied:

「The moment they draw their sword, you’ll know.」
「Ah, this guy is a Sword Master.」

As people read this record, they were puzzled, but as time passed, they had no choice but to accept the words left by the First Sword Saint. There was nothing else that could more accurately describe it.

The moment a Sword Master draws their sword, even if you dislike it, you come to realize:
The person standing before you is at the pinnacle.
A superhuman who has reached the ultimate limit of the sword.

This was true for Sword Masters throughout history and the three Sword Masters guiding the current era.

…And now.

Someone was experiencing this firsthand.

“Gasp, gulp…”

Sword Seeker Roselin Ascalo’s intuition was screaming in alarm. The man standing before her was a Sword Master. The Sword Saint, Karan.

Breathing was difficult.
Cold sweat ran down her back.

Karan took one step, then another towards Roselin. In a terror akin to death’s approach, Roselin lowered her head. Then, the sound of his footsteps stopped. A massive presence was felt right in front of her.

Then, tap tap.

Karan gently patted Roselin’s shoulder. Slowly lifting her head, Roselin saw Karan, still hooded, smiling at her.

“Ah, I finally remember. Where have I seen you before? You’re Roselin Ascalo, aren’t you?”

Karan spoke as if he was pleased.

“A young Sword Seeker, known for wielding a masterpiece and being a renowned mercenary. I’ve always wanted to cross swords with you. Pleased to meet you. I am…”
“Ahem!”

Just as Karan was about to say his name, a coughing sound came from behind Roselin. There stood Mid-Rank Priest Volkman, clearly uneasy.

Karan had said he would accompany her incognito.

However, seeing Karan seemingly unconcerned about revealing his identity, Volkman was sweating. An unofficial visit by a Sword Master would bring about truly, truly troublesome matters.

“I’ve been rude. There’s a situation where I can’t reveal my identity…”
“K-K-Karan, sir, it’s an honor to meet you.”
“Oh dear.”

Karan touched the back of his neck awkwardly, his expression showing he had been caught, and glanced at Volkman. Volkman wiped his face and sighed deeply.

“Well, now that it’s come to this.”

Karan exhaled briefly.

“Do you know an adventurer named Ivan?”
“…Excuse me?”
“I’ve come here to see him. If you know where he is, could you arrange a meeting? I’ll make sure to compensate you.”

Sword Master Karan.
The lord of the Order of the Sword, a Sword Saint.

A request from a figure considered a giant among giants.

Of course, from Karan’s perspective, it was a simple request, and refusal wouldn’t matter much… but that was just Karan’s view.

“I’ll do my best!!!!!”

For Roselin, this was a mission she had to accomplish as if her life depended on it, as urgent as if a meteor had fallen from a clear sky.

“I’ll arrange it…!!!”

Thus.

The situation had come to this.

Led by Roselin’s hand, the moment Najin arrived at the headquarters of the Red-Eyed Mercenaries. As he opened the door on the first floor and stepped inside, the gazes of the gathered mercenaries instantly focused on him.

“Gasp!”
“He’s finally here!”
“Quick, to the boss…!”

They looked at Najin as if he was a savior, rejoicing at the prospect of liberation from the stifling atmosphere, and pushed him towards the stairs.

“The top floor, in the office. Quick! As fast as possible…!”

Najin, clueless about the situation, was pushed forward by them. As he climbed the stairs and glanced back, he saw Roselin, who had collapsed onto a chair, gasping for air.

You guys, I’ve had too much going on.
Seriously, it’s been so tough…

Roselin’s lament and the mercenaries’ agreeing voices echoed as Najin ascended the stairs. Sword Master Karan had come looking for him. The reason was unknown to Najin.

‘Could he have noticed that I pulled out Excalibur?’
-Definitely not.

Merlin stated emphatically.

-Even I didn’t notice that. At this point, it seems more likely there’s something about that underground city where you were…

Najin steadied his breath and moved forward.
With the Sword Master already seeking him out, fleeing was no longer an option. While the magnitude of a Sword Master’s strength was unclear to him, escape seemed improbable.

Ascending the stairs to the top floor office, Najin reached the door and knocked gently before pulling the handle to open it. As he was about to step inside, his senses heightened alarmingly. A sensation like lightning racing up his spine made his eyes widen, and his pupils dilate.

“Ah, he finally arrived.”

A voice sounded.
Najin turned towards the source of the voice. There sat a familiar face… Mid-Rank Priest Volkman, accompanied by someone else.

A young man in his late twenties.

Najin intuited that the man, now unhooded and revealing his full face, was Sword Saint Karan. Despite not exuding any overt presence, just being in the same space as Karan set Najin’s senses off alarmingly.

“…I am Ivan.”

Najin, having barely managed to control his breathing, spoke.

“I heard you were looking for me.”
“Ah, yes.”

Karan stood up.

“Pleased to meet you. You might have heard of me already, but my name is Karan. Now that we’ve been formally introduced, how about a handshake?”

Karan extended his hand.
From Najin’s perspective, this was a nerve-wracking situation.

The man before him was none other than Sword Saint Karan, the head of the Order of the Sword.
His honorary title and power alone far exceeded that of a duke, and at times, he could even dine with the emperor himself.

Even the most skilled warriors can’t obtain power without playing politics… but that’s only an issue for those not skilled enough. When one possesses the strength to overthrow a nation single-handedly, power and titles naturally follow.

This was true for the Empire’s Sword Master Gerd, the executioner of the Order, Yuel Razian*, and now, the man before him, Sword Saint Karan.
*Uel has been changed to Yuel, apologies for the inconvenience.

This significant figure was offering him a handshake. But who was Najin? He was a man who didn’t even flinch in the presence of Merlin, the transcendent being of the night sky. Gathering his composure, Najin accepted Karan’s handshake.

“I’ve heard about you from Volkman. They say you’re an exceptionally talented swordsman…”

Karan said with a smile as they shook hands.

“I don’t have a significant reason for seeking you out.”

A sincere smile. Intent clearly visible in his eyes. Karan’s gaze was fixed only on the sword hanging at Najin’s waist.

“I thought it might be good to cross swords with you. I could invite you to the Order of the Sword, but that would draw too much attention to you… so this will have to do.”

Karan shrugged.

“That’s all I have to say.”
“…Yes?”
“Don’t you have anything else to add?”

Karan seemed to be asking if Najin had any more questions. If there was anything else, he should speak up quickly. Confused by Karan’s attitude, Najin tilted his head. Volkman, sitting behind, just gave a bitter smile.

“If there’s nothing more…”

Volkman’s bitter smile made sense to Najin after a short while.

“Let’s exchange some swordplay then. Follow me outside. I saw a nice spot on my way into the city.”

Karan said this and started packing up to leave.
His ‘baggage’ was only the single sword he had propped against the wall. Dumbfounded, Najin blinked.

Sword Master Karan.

The fact that such a figure came looking for him solely for the desire to “clash swords” was not something Najin could easily accept.

‘Surely, there must be another motive…’

As Najin was assessing Karan, the Sword Saint turned his head sharply.

“What are you waiting for? Come on.”

Karan, with his sword slung over his shoulder, urged Najin to follow. His expression suggested an itch to cross swords immediately. Volkman approached Najin and whispered.

“…He’s always been like that.”
“Really…?”
“Sorry about this. But it might be a good opportunity for you, so please forgive us.”

Volkman patted Najin’s back reassuringly.

After a brief carriage ride and passing through a forest, they arrived at an open field. Najin, Karan, and Volkman disembarked from the carriage. During the ride, Karan hadn’t uttered a single word.

As if no further conversation was necessary.
As if any questions would be asked through the sword.

Stepping out of the carriage, Najin glanced at Karan, who was casually stretching. After rotating his arms, Karan exhaled briefly.

Then, clang.

He drew his sword. However, he didn’t raise the drawn sword. Instead, he planted it into the ground and held the scabbard in his hand. Swinging the scabbard a few times in the air as if getting a feel for it, he suddenly swung it with force.

Crrrack.

The ground tore open in a straight line.
Najin’s eyes widened in shock. Unable to comprehend what Karan had done, he was baffled. It didn’t seem like Karan had surrounded the sword with sword aura, so how…?

While Najin was perplexed, Karan rotated his wrist, smiling contentedly as if to say, ‘That should do.’ He then turned his head to look at Najin.

“What’s the matter? Aren’t you drawing your sword?”

Karan jiggled the scabbard, urging him on.
Having witnessed Karan lightly swinging the scabbard to tear the ground apart, Najin envisioned a future where a wrong move could mean instant death.

…Could this be an attempt to kill me rather than a sparring match?

It was a reasonable suspicion for Najin. He sighed and drew his sword with a clang. Regardless of the situation, it remained a valuable opportunity.

“Then, I ask for a good match.”

An opportunity to experience the pinnacle.
Determined to extract as much as he could from the situation, Najin took his stance.

-You must be the only madman who thinks about milking an experience from a Sword Master.
“What? What did you say?”
-Never mind, just do what you normally do…

Amid Merlin’s incredulous voice, Najin stepped forward.