I Pulled Out the Excalibur

It had been a little over a month since Najin became aware of fragments of his Imagery, and he was approaching the second month.

Two months. Sixty days.

Those who become aware of their Imagery typically ascend to the realm of a Sword Seeker within 40 days. After all, the crucial part in ascending to the realm of a Sword Seeker was becoming aware of one’s Imagery, not the subsequent process.

However, despite becoming aware of his Imagery, Najin had been unable to advance for nearly two months.

Of course, it wasn’t a long stagnation, but for Najin, who had grown at a rate nearly ten times faster than others without any hindrance, the feeling of being stagnant was unfamiliar.

‘What’s the reason?’

Metamorphosis. Shedding. The reconstitution of sword aura. Najin couldn’t quite grasp the process. It was like trying to catch clouds. Roselin had said that it would be good to reflect on oneself.

-Indeed, it’s a logical point.

Merlin’s voice echoed in his ears.

-It’s natural for you to take longer than others. Why? Because you have two focal points in your Imagery.

Najin closed one eye. What he saw was the landscape settled in his Imagery: a star high above and another star below.

-People usually harbor only one Imagery. One focal point. But not you. Your Imagery has two focal points. This is strange…

Merlin said.

-And also fascinating.

‘Then what should I do?’

-This isn’t something I can teach you. In fact, nobody can teach you this. You must find the answer yourself.

Only then will it be meaningful. Only then can it have meaning, Merlin said. Najin let out a long sigh.

-But if I were to give you a hint.

Within Najin’s Imagery. Looking at the star in the sky, Merlin said.

-Never compromise. Believe that the world you harbor, not the world you see, is the true one.

The transcendent archmage said.

-Trust only in yourself.

This is the virtue that one walking the path toward transcendence must possess. It may seem selfish, dogmatic, and even harsh. Merlin whispered so and smiled.

“Alcohol is the lubricant of life.”

Leaving Najin, who had completely exhausted himself and was spread-eagled in the field, to his own devices, he continued.

“Even a dry life, or a fucking miserable one, gets somewhat better with a shot of alcohol. That’s why I like alcohol. Unfortunately, these days, I hardly feel the buzz.”

Sipping his drink as the breeze blew, he wiped his mouth with a satisfied expression and popped a piece of dried meat into his mouth, looking as if he owned the world. Najin glanced at the bottle of cheap alcohol and the piece of jerky in the man’s hand.

Cheap alcohol available anywhere. A piece of jerky that was just dried and salted meat.

Common things, but from the moment the man in front of him enjoyed them, they became uncommon. With great effort, Najin managed to get up, looking at the man.

The master of the Order of the Sword, Sword Saint Karan.

Najin smiled at the sight of the Sword Master with six stars, enjoying cheap alcohol and jerky as snacks.

“You seem to enjoy it quite simply.”

“Simplicity has its meaning. Do you want a drink too?”

“No, thank you. I’ll just take a piece of the jerky.”

Receiving a piece of jerky from the Sword Saint, Najin chewed it and stretched his sore shoulders. Karan had promised to check his sword every month or two, and today was that promised day.

‘I must have swung it for half a day.’

His shoulders and arms screamed in pain. It was natural for his body, which had been overworked, to scream, having charged at an opponent who could not be reached despite pouring everything into each strike for nearly half a day.

“The sword has become much sharper. Your movements have improved too. Seems like you’ve met a decent opponent?”

“I’m not sure if they were decent, but I nearly died several times.”

Karan burst into laughter at Najin’s response and took another sip of his drink. Putting down the bottle, Karan gestured with his chin, encouraging Najin to continue talking.

“I crossed swords with the Knight Commander of the Arbenia ducal family, Sir Griffin.”

“Ah, the one who wields the Trigadian sword. A knight who swings a stubborn and uncompromising sword, breaking through that stubbornness is extremely difficult.”

“Then, I fought with Fauve, a 4th circle dark mage who owns the masterpiece ‘Shadowflame’…”

“A dark mage who owns a masterpiece, that’s interesting.”

“I also clashed with Kapman Theosis, a former ranger of Techo Mountain Range. Ah, that was probably the most dangerous. I nearly died a few times.”

“Heh…”

Karan laughed as if he found it absurd.

“I shouldn’t be one to talk, but you live quite a dramatic life. Meeting such formidable foes in such a short period isn’t easy. Did you go around challenging people to duels?”

“It just turned out that way. There are quite a few people who want to kill me.”

Karan merely shrugged at Najin’s words. He had made it clear that he was only teaching Najin the way of the sword and had no intention of involving himself in Najin’s life.

“Well, all those experiences become flesh and bone. There’s nothing as valuable as diverse combat experience. Take this opportunity to train as much as you can.”

“Surviving is what makes it an experience, isn’t it?”

“If you die, that’s all you were capable of. Surviving is part of the growth process itself. There are experiences that can only be accumulated at the boundary between life and death.”

Najin chuckled. Every time they talked, he felt it, but according to Najin, Karan wasn’t normal either. He had a battle-crazed temperament.

‘If anyone else said it, it would just be nonsense…’

Charging at strong foes repeatedly.

Jumping into the battlegrounds of the stars and the boundary of Camlann, living life on the edge between life and death, Karan’s words couldn’t be simply ignored.

“That’s quite a radical approach.”

“And also, the correct one.”

Karan fiddled with his sword hilt.

“Me, Sir Gerd, and even Yuel, we all reached transcendence this way. Risking our lives without care, we stepped onto countless battlefields.”

He grinned at Najin.

“Does just anyone become a Sword Master? Only the mad become Sword Masters.”

“Including you, Sir Karan?”

“Of course. I consider myself sane, but by the standards of the world, I’m just another lunatic. I have no intention of denying that…”

Karan shrugged.

“Among the Sword Masters active on the continent, I’m probably the most normal.”

Sword Saint, Karan. The Executioner, Yuel Razian. The Empire’s Supreme, Gerd.

Among the three Sword Masters, he claimed to be the most normal. Considering Yuel Razian was light-years away from normal, the only comparison left was Gerd… Najin tilted his head in confusion.

“Isn’t Sir Gerd the Supreme of the Empire?”

“That’s right.”

“He’s a significant power holder, central to the Empire… And you’re saying you’re more normal than him?”

“How do you see me?”

Karan seemed incredulous.

“That’s something you can say because you don’t know Sir Gerd. That man knows nothing but the sword and the empire. In some ways, he’s even more of a madman than Yuel Razian.”

The sword and the empire. The two values that constitute Gerd.

“For the empire, he killed his own daughter and son with his hands. He killed all his kin, including his wife. They were traitors, after all, but that’s not all. For the sword, he gave up everything, including his humanity, because it interfered with his swordsmanship.”

“……”

“Transcendence, the path to perfection, paradoxically, is completed by what one discards. It’s the same for me and even Yuel Razian. But Sir Gerd…”

Karan paused for a moment. He let out a long breath and said,

“He has discarded more than he possesses. He reached transcendence by stripping away everything except for the sword and the empire. It’s a terrifying obsession.”

“That’s definitely…”

“It’s hard to call such a being human. Well, not to mention Yuel Razian. What do you think? Don’t I seem a bit more like a sane person sitting before you now?”

Najin let out a laugh.

“I can’t deny that.”

“Right?”

“Yes, especially when I recall my encounter with Yuel Razian.”

“What? You met Yuel?”

“After the battle with the dark mage, I encountered Miss Yuel Razian, who came to assess the situation.”

“Heh.”

Karan turned pale.

“You were close to death. Truly.”

“Yes, I nearly died. Truly.”

“If you met Yuel, she must have taken a particular interest in you… You’re going to have a hard time in the future.”

He sent a sympathetic look Najin’s way.

“If it had been revealed then that you were my disciple, a nicely wrapped head would have been delivered to the Order of the Sword. Truly a dreadful thought.”

Najin inwardly muttered that it was good he had kept his meeting with Karan a secret and nodded.

“Sir Karan.”

Then Najin spoke up. This was the main point, after all.

“Do you know about Metamorphosis?”

“I know. It’s been over ten years since I crossed that path.”

Karan narrowed his eyes.

“Come to think of it, it seemed like you were aware of your Imagery. Are you undergoing Metamorphosis?”

“Exactly, I’m stuck. I can’t grasp what the reconstitution of sword aura is.”

“Hmm.”

He slowly rose from his seat.

“Metamorphosis. Shedding. The reconstitution of sword aura. It sounds complicated when said, but in reality, it’s simple and clear.”

In the vast expanse of the field. Karan drew his sword atop it.

“A sword is but a brush.”

The Sword Master spoke of the sword.

“Sword aura is the paint that colors the brush.”

Sword aura blossomed atop Karan’s sword. Najin could neither see nor comprehend the sword aura that Karan conjured. The vast gap in their realms distorted even cognition.

“The sword is the brush, the sword aura is the paint, and the paint is ultimately the Imagery you harbor. Your Imagery is your world.”

Yet, the moment the Sword Saint swung his sword. The moment that sword advanced a mere few feet.

“Swinging a sword is, in a way, the process of overlaying your world onto the existing one.”

Najin’s eyes saw it. The landscape painted along the path of the Sword Saint’s sword. It was the Imagery harbored by the Sword Saint, the color of his soul.

With a swift motion, the Sword Saint lightly swung his sword. Following the trajectory of his swing, the world was painted anew. Najin couldn’t fully grasp the scene unfolding before him, but he had a rough understanding of what the Sword Saint was doing.

“This is the ultimate destination that those who walk the path of the sword must pursue. And a Sword Seeker is a seeker on the path of the sword. They might not be able to color the world with their swings, but…”

Karan smiled, sheathing his sword.

“Their sword aura creates their own world wherever it reaches. What’s needed for that, more than anything, is unwavering self-confidence.”

The Sword Master looked at Najin.

“From what I see, you’re confining yourself. That’s not necessarily bad. Refining one’s conduct is commendable and deserves praise.”

But, he said,

“It shouldn’t lead to the denial of oneself. You mustn’t deny your true nature. Don’t try to change everything at once. The stairs toward perfection cannot be leaped in a single bound.”

Karan poked Najin’s chest with the sheath of his sword.

“First, break the cage, boy.”

Then a new path will open.

“That’s all the teaching for today.”

Karan waved his hand as he walked away.

“I hope to see you as a seeker of the sword next time we meet.”

In the heart of the city of opportunities, Cambria, where the central guild and the merchants’ street are adjacent.

In a place rightfully called the heart of this city, the building of the Dieta Trading Company towers tall. And at the top of that building sits a snake coiled up.

The Snake that Swallows Gold, Dieta Arbenia.

Surrounded by maps, documents, contracts, trading proofs, statements, and countless numbers and sentences in her office, she narrowed her eyes. Her golden eyes, resembling gold coins, absorbed the light from the magic lamps and shimmered brightly.

Money moves people.

People move money.

And where money moves, traces naturally remain. Information remains. A competent merchant must know the path the gold has taken and the path it will take.

In that sense.

The snake that swallows gold, Dieta Arbenia, is an unprecedented merchant.

Her achievements are not the result of mere luck or a few coincidences. She built them up gradually, from the ground up, remarkably fast and accurate. How was that possible?

Her eyes follow the gold. They precisely pinpoint where the gold has flowed, where it will flow, and where it gathers. This is the talent she was born with and has honed over the years.

…And, if one understands all these processes.

It’s not difficult to artificially create a flow.