Chapter 53: Among So Many Stars

It’s hot.

No, it’s chilly.

All I want to do is collapse and rest right here.

But I shake off all those temptations.

Until just a moment ago, hadn’t I prayed inwardly, craving to protect the village, even if it meant willingly throwing away my life?

Has my heart changed in a matter of seconds?

“――!!”

Someone is shouting in the distance, but I can’t even hear them.

A barbarian warrior approaches, axe in hand.

He doesn’t charge immediately; instead, he stops and shouts in front of me for a long while before finally lunging.

I responded with my two-handed sword.

The moment I blocked the attack, I countered, cutting him down in a single strike.

Long ago, my master told me this:

‘You seem naturally lacking in muscular strength. Your frame isn’t sturdy either. Therefore, no matter how much you train, no matter how much harder you struggle, the gains will be minimal. Even so, you must not give up. If you do, you won’t even be able to protect your own body. The saving grace is that your lungs are strong; if you make good use of that trait, you will tire less than others.’

Strive in your training, if only to survive.

Building strength comes after that.

…That was why even enduring the training my master demanded was, for me, a trial.

Because he said it was nearly impossible.

Hearing those words, I bet everything on it.

Doesn’t “nearly impossible” mean that I could move away from that impossibility depending on my effort?

I turned even the chores for my livelihood into a part of my training.

I strictly calculated the efficiency of my private leisure and rest.

I can only grow if I rest.

I must eat well, move well, and rest well.

I must not equate myself with others.

I didn’t even have time to be envious.

It was a waste of time to grieve over being unhappy.

Once I began to view even loneliness as a luxury and stopped caring, it became bearable.

Even when she watched me and eventually grew discouraged.

The reason I couldn’t comfort her with a pure heart was… ultimately due to my own weakness.

We stand upon this land, in hell.

Upon a desolate, miserable place with nowhere to go.

Like withered leaves that can be swept away at any moment.

Even if we stay still, we merely rot and vanish into the earth.

Even the act of being swept away is not by our own will.

What a lamentable life.

Even if one somehow manages to achieve happiness…

I could not simply accept this cold reality—that even that happiness could be shattered at any time.

…Another warrior charges.

A giant of a man holding a shield and a club.

He looks far larger than I am.

Come to think of it, the one who charged before had an indescribable physique as well.

And as if proving his value, after clashing a few times, the blade of my sword chipped and even bent.

Was it indeed reckless to respond with simple strength?

However, it is too early to give up.

I reach for my waist.

I grip and draw a new sword that feels as if it clings to my hand.

Only one sword has broken.

As long as my limbs aren’t broken and my life isn’t extinguished, it is not a problem at all.

Above all.

The stronger the enemy, the stronger we become.

Because.

We have always collapsed our enemies by utilizing the opponent’s strength and even their mistakes.

Where does water go?

My master once asked me that.

I naturally answered that it flows forward, toward the open spaces.

But my master declared that I was wrong.

“Water flows from high to low.”

“……?”

Now that I think about it, he was right.

“That is why the sea is the king, the father, and the mother of all rivers.”

The reason the sea can embrace all water is…

“Because it is in the lowest place of all.”

The sword we wield must be the same.

“But that is not the end. Descending and descending, water rises again. It ascends to the sky to become clouds, rain, and snow, falling once more.”

“Eh? Then you mean rain was originally river water and seawater?”

“…It is so.”

I didn’t fully understand.

But my master repeatedly emphasized that wielding a sword should be like that.

That using strength should be the same.

“Furthermore, like the wind, without being entwined, without being bound, heading toward where the path is laid, naturally bypassing where things tangle, as if grazing past them.”

When moving the body, one should be like that.

“If you realize only this, there will not be many on this earth who can treat you lightly. Because of your physical traits, you will not be able to handle or utilize mana in a complex way. For me, I can offer no other solution than this method.”

Master.

I still… do not know what it is you told me to realize.

And yet, I have somehow overcome those who wield Sword Aura, emit light, and display absurd physical abilities.

I feel a modest sense of pride in that.

It wasn’t that I feared my own defeat.

I feared dishonoring your teachings.

I was most afraid of staining your name.

That is why I could never confidently reveal who my master was… that must be a facet of my own lack of virtue and weakness.

“How can he do that?”

“Is he… a monster?”

I must have taken down about five of them.

By then, they seemed to have abandoned the idea of honorable one-on-one duels and changed their objective to simply bringing me down.

‘If they had thrown arrows or stones, it would have been a bit troublesome.’

It was actually easier for them to come right before my eyes.

Because I had no strength to dash forward, nor did I have the strength to even advance toward them.

The most I could do was stand.

Strength would not enter my body.

The most I could do was grip my legs to keep from staggering.

And yet.

“Gah!”

Why.

“Ugh, aaaah!”

……Am I.

“Je-Jenza… The G-God…”

Simply refusing to collapse?

I suddenly remember that I must not fall.

If I collapse here, if I sink to my knees.

Who will stop them?

In truth, even if a few of them headed for the village, I had neither the physical nor mental strength to stop them.

Then why.

Why are they all watching me and staying on guard?

‘Why.’

In the midst of their wave-like offense, how can I be the one to instill vigilance and fear in them?

‘Did he tell me to let go of the tension?’

There is no artificiality in the workings of nature.

Intentionally applying strength, squeezing it, pouring it in—all of that is meaningless and irrelevant.

It’s true that the structure of the human body shouldn’t be that way.

…But in the end, if one does not apply that principle to the body, it is impossible to enact the workings of nature through the body.

Forcing a reproduction of this through mana is the height of artificiality.

However, even if it is a falsehood, if it can be done, it becomes an obvious reality.

Therefore, that too is a path if it is a path.

Is there only one direction to find the desired answer?

That, too, is an expression and realization of will.

…But.

One without legs cannot climb stairs with their legs.

A beast without wings cannot fly like a bird.

‘…I see.’

I had been mistaken all this time.

There was still something left for me to learn.

No.

Rather, I realize my infinite deficiency.

I wonder why I am only realizing this now.

But it had to be this way.

Because there has never been a moment as grueling as now, even in my most exhausted and tired moments.

As the strength in my entire body naturally drained away.

Yet, because the enemy is powerful, and above all, formidable.

Thus, the path opened.

Just as river water naturally gathers in one place when a valley narrows.

No, is it slightly different from that?

I cannot understand it with my mind.

But I feel like I know.

This is exactly what Master was talking about….

====

I chase the phantom.

I thought I had lost consciousness for a very brief moment.

But the things he felt in that instant flowed back in an unknown current and drifted into my consciousness.

‘When taking a stance, be like a rock or a tree.’

And.

‘When continuing a movement, be like water or wind.’

It is a concise and seemingly trivial piece of advice.

But one thing was certain.

‘This is….’

The wind blows.

Though all sides are blocked.

If there is an exit, even if it is a tiny crack.

The wind throws itself toward that place of its own accord.

I am like that now.

Leading my body following the phantom.

I raise my sword.

―!!

The moment I clash with the greatsword, my body is sent flying to one side.

However, I do not lose my balance.

The posture continues, and instead, my body flows and slides as if in the intended direction.

From there, again.

Slipping past the axe striking from the side.

Using that force as a rebound, I slide my body to the opposite side.

Reaching the chest of a warrior in an instant.

I lower my posture and slide between his legs.

I grabbed his ankle.

He stood firm like a sturdy pillar.

Using that, I pivoted my body and swung my sword, severing his ankle.

“Aaaaagh!”

Neither too shallow nor too deep.

As he let out a scream of pain and bewilderment and bent his waist.

I rolled over his back and moved my body to the other side.

The surrounding formation loosened slightly.

No matter how they surround me, if I keep moving, gaps appear.

‘Water and wind.’

As long as there is a path, they neither stop nor stagnate.

Not only do I avoid the kick of a charging man, but I grab that foot entirely.

As he instinctively pulls his leg back, I use that force as momentum to throw myself right in front of his chest. I climb up his shoulder and grab the knot of his hair.

“What are you doing?!”

“The jokes end now!”

When the head is lifted, it naturally tilts backward.

Surprisingly, the heaviest part of the human body is the head.

Therefore, controlling that point means one can manipulate the center of gravity of the human body by external force.

But that is not the end.

Just before landing, I swing my sword in mid-air and slash his nape.

This, too, is neither deep nor shallow.

But it is a clear fatal wound.

Rather than being stabbed deep in the abdomen, this would be more painful and critical.

Before he could even grab his neck, the warrior, who had staggered and tried to bring his hand to the wound, collapsed.

“…….”

The combat style shown by the phantom is distinctly different from this.

He uses a similar method to me, flowing through the opponent’s offense with his sword, occasionally slashing, sometimes kicking, and even striking the jaw with a fist.

In the midst of a chaotic battle, though he is alone, he resists, flows, and counters the enemies’ attacks like water, like wind.

He dominates the battlefield.

But that is his way.

Physical conditions and circumstances.

The given environment and method.

…They remind me that I cannot be the same as him.

However.

The root is the same.

By what principle, for what purpose, and through what means and methodology he drives them back.

Because I have just understood that.

“Aaaaaah!”

A massive figure, lowering his head like a bison, lunges forward.

I respond by lowering my body as if to lay my upper torso flat on the ground.

His brutal hands try to seize me, covering me like the open maw of a wolf.

But I slip through the gap and slide away from his charge.

From there, while sliding on my back, I shift my body and similarly slash across the warrior’s ankle with my sword.

Thud!

Unable to withstand the inertia, and with his ankle ruined, the warrior collapsed forward.

I parry the spear shaft striking from the side, evade the sword swinging down, and barely flow past the axe cutting upward in an arc.

I penetrate.

As he tries to grab me with his bare hands, I instead grab his fingers and roll my entire body.

“Agh!”

Worried that his fingers might break, he rolls along, but in that moment, I slash his throat, roll over him, and strike another warrior’s ankle to break his posture.

Then I slash.

“Are these bastards joking! With a brat who isn’t even worth one punch!”

“Rush him! All of you rush him! What’s wrong with you that you can’t even do that?!”

“How long do you intend to make a fool of yourselves?!”

The phantom neutralizes enemies with minimum strength and minimum response.

The phantom targets gaps to slash the opponent’s eyes, or their wrists and ankles.

Striking the jaw with a fist, kicking between the legs.

Meanwhile, those who cling are grabbed with ghostly skill and pushed and pulled here and there.

Making them voluntarily roll on the ground, slam their heads, or drop their upper bodies.

Bringing them down and leaving them sprawled.

Since weapons didn’t work, they tried close-quarters combat.

Since close-quarters combat didn’t work, they tried to cling and crush or strangle.

But nothing works.

Just as trying to bind water with hands, arms, or the whole body is meaningless.

Or like trying to embrace the wind.

It is all utterly meaningless.

And the fact that their attempts are thwarted turns into another opportunity for a counterattack.

Even this utilizes the opponent’s strength.

There is no need to plunge a sword into an eye socket like I did before.

Just a slight cut to the eyeball immediately neutralizes the opponent.

Even if they charge again, it is not difficult to respond.

Severing the tendons of the ankle, slashing the throat, cutting the wrist, splitting the solar plexus, slashing the thigh, carving the femur.

I knock them down.

I leave them sprawled.

Ensuring the weapon is not damaged by not hitting bone.

Even if the muscles are intact, I split the most vulnerable points appropriately and effectively.

The man in the illusion.

Before long, he had rendered over a dozen warriors powerless.

“…….”

Before I knew it.

In my vision, the number of giant warriors sprawled by these hands had already exceeded a dozen.

“I… see.”

Only then.

The phantom came to a stop.

And that phantom was looking directly at me.

I also turned my gaze toward him.

“In the end….”

The memories he showed.

Even the scene he showed through the illusion.

All of it.

……Was a preparation for me.

From this moment on.

I intuitively felt all of this clearly.

He.

Was waiting for no one else but me.

Through the long, long years.

For 300 years.

In that one spot.

He had guarded that place alone.

…For no other reason than.

For this moment.