Chapter 31 – Preparation (6)

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Translated by Jinmu

Read only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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The headmaster’s office of Hoakin Academy.

Media looked at Sword Emperor Siegfried with narrowed eyes. He was stroking his chin and lost in deep thought. His plentiful white-flecked hair glimmered in the sunset light like sand on a white beach.

Media let out a long sigh, then called to Siegfried.

“What’s with you?”

“Ah, my apologies. It’s nothing.”

“Ha!”

At a loss for words, Media let out a cry of despair. In all the fifty-plus years they had spent together, she had never once heard the Sword Emperor apologize, and now she had heard it twice in a single day.

It was behavior so different from usual that it was enough to make her wonder if he really had dementia. Media crossed her arms and folded her legs.

“So what was that earlier? Good thing one of the instructors reported to me that you and Geom-ma were sparring. What would’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up? And on top of that, you manifested the Blessing of the Sword Spirit against a student. Say something, you old fossil!”

Media rattled off her points quickly and sharply. With a crooked smile, the Sword Emperor took a sip from his teacup and replied.

“Because if I had not manifested the blessing, I would not have been able to gain the advantage.”

“…What?”

Thinking she must have misheard, Media made a show of slapping at her ears, then stared at the Sword Emperor. There was not the slightest falsehood in his unwavering tone.

What had she just heard? Was that really the sort of thing that could come from proud old Siegfried’s mouth? And more than that, the very premise that ‘he would have lost’ felt far too foreign to Media.

His hair had turned white and lines had formed across his face, but she knew the Sword Emperor’s strength better than anyone else.

Because of that stiff-necked personality, he never neglected his training for even a single day, so despite his age, the Sword Emperor’s sword had only continued to grow sharper and more precise by the day.

Of course she knew well enough that Kang Geom-ma’s talent was heaven-given, but no matter how innate that talent was, there ought to be some kind of gap born from sheer accumulated experience.

“That boy has already reached the realm of Mental Image.”

“What, already?! You only started using it when you were nearly thirty. Even Spear Star didn’t reach that realm until he was over forty. And now you’re saying a seventeen-year-old can use it? Do you really think that makes any sense?”

Media opened her mouth haltingly and shot the question back at him. The Sword Emperor took another sip of tea, then set the cup down on the desk.

“I don’t know myself. But if there is something capable of offsetting experience, then the story changes.”

“Good heavens….”

Media let out a gasp and pressed a hand to her forehead. She recalled Kang Geom-ma’s face from the middle of the spar.

The childishness had already vanished from it. A killing intent flowed from the pupils tinged with midnight-black radiance. Because of that, Media herself had flinched for a split second at the time.

She had not shown it because cadets were watching, but goosebumps had swept over her entire body in an instant.

It was a feeling she had not experienced in half a century, and it stirred something within Media. She might have seen the front lines after taking the position of headmaster, but there was no way she could forget that emotion.

The thing that had seized her body in the first moment she had ever realized her own helplessness.

It was humanity’s oldest and strongest emotion. Fear.

And it was a fear as though her lungs had been pierced straight through.

When she first encountered Basmon, the Sixth Legion Commander, she had felt something equally chilling. And somehow, she had sensed a faint trace of that same feeling from Kang Geom-ma, who was still only a cadet. It felt as though she had become a rabbit standing before a wolf.

…Was it because the character for demon was even in his name?

Media pressed at her temples. Her thoughts were a mess. For an educator to feel fear toward a student….

Even thinking it over herself, it left her speechless. She had known from the moment of admission that Kang Geom-ma was an outstanding cadet.

But by now, she could not even begin to guess how deep the extent of that excellence went. Media wrinkled her nose for no reason.

Silence hung in the room for a moment. The Sword Emperor quietly drank his tea, savoring it in silence. At that sight, Media finally spoke again with a displeased expression.

“So who won?”

The Sword Emperor’s right eyebrow twitched, and he set the teacup down once more. The bottom of the cup struck the tabletop with an irritated noise.

“Why ask something so obvious? Really.”

“You answered all ambiguously and still didn’t tell me the result. Don’t tell me… Zig, did you lose? Even after using the Blessing of the Sword Spirit and Aura?”

“How could that be! No matter how heaven-given Kang Geom-ma’s talent is, he still does not measure up to me yet. Besides, my weapon wasn’t even in perfect condition at the time!”

“What is this, why are you blowing up all of a sudden? And isn’t it way too pathetic for the guy who always says masters don’t blame their tools to start making excuses about weapons? By that logic, our Geom-ma was using discount-store sashimi knives.”

“Y-you…!”

The Sword Emperor shot up from his seat, his face tinted yellow with indignation.

Media wore an utterly indifferent expression and picked at one ear with her little finger. At that reaction, the Sword Emperor collapsed back onto the sofa with his arms crossed.

“Did you lose or did you win? Just give me the result plainly.”

“Of course I won.”

Media narrowed her eyes and looked at the Sword Emperor with a deeply skeptical gaze. Sweating nervously, he kept avoiding her stare. At that, one corner of Media’s mouth rose sharply.

“Liar.”

“Y-you shameless bitch…! You don’t believe a word I say!”

The quarrel, filled with angry shouting on one side and snickering laughter on the other, only died down two hours later.

* * *

Before I knew it, it had become a habit to stare blankly at the dormitory ceiling and go over the fights I’d been through.

The ceiling that had felt so unfamiliar when I first entered the academy had now become the most comforting roof over my head.

I stroked my chin and sank into thought for a moment. It was to replay the strange event from earlier in the day.

Provoked by the Sword Emperor, I had accepted the spar and drawn my sashimi knife. Up to that point, it had not been much different from the things that had happened before.

“Was that what they call Mental Image or something…?”

I muttered vacantly while staring at the dormitory ceiling.

The realm of Mental Image.

Before the world of Miracle’s Blessing M truly descended into chaos, the Sword Emperor had given Leon many lessons.

From basics like stance and draw techniques, to the principles of the sword and efficient use of blessings. Among them were explanations of abstract concepts like the realm of Mental Image.

It was the supreme domain said to be accessible only to master-level experts with exceptional sensitivity.

An active space triggered once the user’s proficiency with and understanding of their weapon passed a certain threshold.

As far as I knew, even in the world setting, the number of heroes able to enter and leave the realm of Mental Image freely could be counted on two hands.

Of course, after one-on-one lessons with the Sword Emperor, Leon too had been able to step into the realm of Mental Image three years later. I knew that precisely because that was the exact point where I’d quit the game.

The realm of Mental Image was the domain of artisans who had polished a single weapon over the course of their entire lived, yet Leon had managed to master it in only three years, which was why even the Sword Emperor who taught him and the people around him had clicked their tongues in disbelief.

And yet even Leon, wrapped head to toe in protagonist buffs, had only barely managed to grasp the realm of Mental Image after burning away two full years of his youth. So why had it come immediately to me?

After thinking for a moment, the answer came easily enough.

Including my past life, I’d spent twenty years doing nothing but live by the blade. And not just casually either. I had been a master of the sashimi knife, called the greatest blade-wielder in the country.

So in terms of sashimi knives specifically, it was only natural that my understanding and mastery had already reached the final stage.

And on top of that, every time I manifested the Blessing of the Sword God, a concentration beyond perception was brought out….

The life I was living here, tangled in all sorts of knots, and the life of my previous world were harmonizing in strange ways and helping me break through each situation. Realizing that, the corners of my mouth twitched with a peculiar elation.

I suddenly came back to myself, threw off the blankets, and got up from the bed. It wasn’t because I intended to do anything dramatic, but because I wanted to improve the habit I had of immediately burying myself in bed whenever possible.

Yes. Looking at everything that had happened so far, all avoiding things ever did was make them worse. Rather than being passively tossed around, I should solve things one by one by doing what I was actually good at.

Of course, without standing out too much. The cadets had already been looking at me strangely after the spar with the Sword Emperor ended. Their faces were full of emotions mixed from jealousy and fear. It wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Then, thinking I might as well did some training, I picked up the two sashimi knives.

They were Daiso sashimi knives whose edges had long since been ruined, but I still couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. I’d grown attached to them, and more than anything, the fact that my life had followed nothing but sashimi knives until now had actually helped me in academy life.

If I handled a longsword awkwardly again and snapped the blade the way I had in that duel with Chloe….

The terrible pain that had tormented me for nearly a week came back to mind, and a shudder ran through me.

I’d rather exceed the forty-second limit of the Blessing of Painlessness and end up hospitalized than swing a longsword wrong and snap the blade, then waste away like some coughing invalid until I was skin and bone.

And in my own way, I’d also come to discard some of the skeptical view I’d held toward the Blessing of the Sword God.

Honestly, if not for this blessing, I’d probably had crossed the river to the other side several times over by now.

On top of that, in two more days I’d be able to receive the reforged Murasame. Just imagining how it would turn out was enough to make my eyes snap open in the middle of sleep. And that made sense. This wasn’t just about oiling up a blade and calling it done. It was weapon enhancement. Any blade-wielder would naturally be excited.

‘Weapon enhancement.’

Based on my experience as a gamer, Miracle’s Blessing M had been fairly generous when it came to weapon enhancement and failure.

Even if reforging or enhancement failed, the weapon usually only dropped one or two ranks. It wasn’t like those mass-produced mobile games where items you’d poured hundreds or thousands into exploded into nothing.

Honestly, if it had been a game that heartless, I never would have even started. My money mattered.

As a silver lining amid misfortune, relief welled up in me at the fact that this world had ended up being this one. Though it remained undeniably infuriating all the same.

With a forced smile, I picked up the knives from the table. Since things had come to this, I intended to go to the training ground and try handling the realm of Mental Image.

If I could truly handle Mental Image freely, then I should be able to do combat training without even having to manifest the Blessing of the Sword God.

Even though I’d grown more adept than before at rationing out the forty-second limit, it was still no more than an instant barely brushing one minute.

For an ability I had to carry as insurance against emergencies, it was far too double-edged, with risks too high to bear.

Just as I gathered my things, turned off the light, and was about to leave, a single thought suddenly flashed through my mind.

‘There’d be no harm in trying it once.’

Inside the dormitory room, now dark after the lights went out.

I drew one sashimi knife from my waist.

There was no need even to close my eyes in order to focus in the darkened room. The affinity and concentration for the sashimi knife seemed engraved into my whole body.

For some reason, I was certain those two alone would be enough. I focused all my senses onto the hilt clenched in my hand. Suddenly, the feeling of the hilt in my palm seemed to grow sharper and more vivid.

In the pitch-black field of vision, all that stood there was a single blade and myself. The moment I began erasing the worldly clutter filling my head one by one.

Recalling the sensation of facing the Sword Emperor, the sixth sense that had widened out fractured into tiny pieces, then fused together again, shaping an intangible mass. At that, a wavering blue force climbed from my hand and clung to the sashimi knife as though blazing.

Soon after, unable to endure the power, the sashimi knife crumbled into powder in an instant. I stared blankly and muttered.