The Swordmaster Who Leapt Through Time Chapter 33 : One Week

Chapter 33: One Week

“Wow~ this is great!”

Daisy ran up the hill with both arms spread wide. She really did look excited.

“Mister! That’s just too much! Were you planning to co to such a nice place all by yourself?!”

There she went again, calling ‘Mister.’

Thankfully, Seah managed to rein Daisy in.

“Daisy.”

Look, look at that. She had been so rude to , but with Seah she couldn’t even move. Just calling her na and staring was enough to make Daisy shrink back completely....

“Uhmm.... No, I an, it’s just that this place is that good.”

Daisy ran off again, scurrying around the hill as if to escape.

Still, Daisy did have a point.

It seed like a good idea that we all ca out together.

After spending every day drenched in blood and sweat, stepping outside like this gave a change of pace.

“Such a well-preserved stele is truly rare!”

The archaeologist in short sleeves and glasses looked terribly excited.

The truth was, the reason we ca out on this little excursion was because of his discovery.

A stele found near the Glowingsteel ruins.

Unlike the other steles, most of which were worn down and unreadable, this one had been preserved perfectly.

That was why I beca curious. What did it say?

Could it perhaps contain news of people I knew? I wanted to check for myself.

“Ancient magic really is mysterious. How is it that even after ten thousand years, such a powerful barrier remains suspended in the air like this!”

The so-called powerful barrier he spoke of.

It was a massive ‘plane’ that completely covered the front face of the stele and stretched far out to both sides.

Whenever sothing tried to pass through it, for so reason, everything crumbled to dust.

Leaves crumbled, stones slowly broke apart.

At first, when soone had tried to approach to take a rubbing of the inscriptions, even people were injured.

But in truth, it wasn’t so kind of barrier at all.

Because the stele clearly had this inscription written on it:

[Ruceras Calendar, Year 4691. Grand Duke Laitena Celsius cut down the calamity that descended near Glowingsteel with a single strike of the sword. To commorate the trajectory of that sword, this stele has been erected. Those who gaze upon it, beware as you approach.]

Grand Duke Laitena.

My Master.

I quietly savored the chills that ran down my spine.

‘So... this was the one-sword strike of the strongest man of the ancient era...?’

I had never once seen his true, earnest strike.

The Steel Qi he had shown ?

To him, that had been nothing more than child’s play.

He was the one and only Grandmaster in the world.

The one who could wield the Heart of the Sword.

‘So, once you reached the Heart of the Sword... sothing like this beca possible....’

Most likely, the reason he never showed was because even if I had seen it, I wouldn’t have been able to understand.

Pssshhh....

When I brought my hand filled with Aura toward the stele, even the Aura scattered like dust and blew away.

“Ha ha....”

I couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh. I simply couldn’t believe that the trajectory left behind by a single strike of the sword from ten thousand years ago... still carried such power to this day.

So this was the realm at the end of ancient swordsmanship.

So chilling,

and sothing I desperately wanted for myself.

Like goosebumps creeping over my skin, my mind decided on its own.

‘I’ll have to train harder.’

, and my younger siblings as well. We’d grind ourselves even more!

Ancient swordsmanship... that was the future!

“Huh...? Doesn’t it feel like it suddenly got colder?”

“Mm.... Why is that?”

Daisy. Seah.

Those quick-witted ones.

* * *

‘Why on earth did I agree to this....’

Rivera Pietro regretted his decision down to his very bones.

The mistake had begun when he thought it enviable to see the Ransen Family doing their harsh training every morning.

From his perspective, Ransen was one of the top ten strongest n on the entire continent of Roberland.

Training under such a powerhouse... what greater blessing could there be?

‘Insane....’

The result of that ridiculous thought was this.

Instead of waking up late, strolling among people, and tossing around jokes in the morning, now every morning was painted in dreadful pain.

“One. Two. One. Two.”

Commands poured out without rest.

Everyone swung their swords in ti with the cadence.

In Rivera’s case, he drew the bowstring.

One might ask what was so hard about that, but the story changed quite a lot when you had to do it wearing specially made, absurdly heavy armor, and wielding an equally special and absurdly heavy sword or bow—all without using any Aura.

“Haaak! Haaak! Haaaak!”

Gasps that sounded on the verge of death echoed from every direction.

In fact, Rivera couldn’t even tell if the sounds were coming from his own mouth or from soone next to him.

His body and mind had long since reached their limits.

“Rivera! Your chest is bent!”

Smack!

His ferocious lord tolerated not even the slightest bit of poor form.

Whenever his posture deviated, the flat of a blade ca flying like a ghost and struck without discrimination—on his crown, his shins, his shoulders.

It hurt.

So much that every ti he was struck, a scream burst out, “Agh!”

This was a balance ga of pain against pain.

Would he endure the tornt of grinding down his body and spirit to maintain perfect form, or the horrific flogging that followed broken posture?

As he floundered back and forth on that scale, every single second was hell.

‘Why... am I... doing this!!!’

Rivera scread inwardly as he pulled back the bowstring.

* * *

My groaning younger siblings, and Rivera.

But do they know? That in this very mont, the one who was more tense and focused than anyone else... was .

‘Not a single deviation allowed. Clamp down hard.’

The core of it was to push the body to its very limits.

Once the body reached its limit, it would begin to devise every possible ans to alleviate the pain.

What was crucial at that mont was to thoroughly supervise so their posture wouldn’t collapse.

If I wasn’t careful, bad posture might beco ingrained in their bodies, just to avoid the imdiate pain.

“Seah! Your hips have sagged!”

Smack!

Carrying a springy sword, I harshly struck the thighs, backs, and sotis even the crowns of those whose posture faltered.

The best way to make them realize with their bodies—rather than their heads—whether their posture was wrong or not, was the cane of the sword.

“Ghhk!”

Seah clenched her teeth and corrected her stance once again.

Good. That was it.

When the body, desperate to lessen its suffering, sought out the most optimized movents, at last the genuine dialogue between the sword and the body would begin.

That was how one stepped closer to the Sword Spirit.

“Co on, co on! One more set left! Growth begins at the limit! This is when you improve. From here on, right now!”

One step further beyond the limit.

I wrung every last drop out of my siblings until the very end.

This thod was the fastest way to increase one’s skill.

In fact, even Grand Duke Laitena’s Horizon Knights trained in this very way.

However, I had added one more process on top of that.

‘Because the problem is, humans are animals that adapt.’

Suppose there was a swordsman who had mastered perfect posture. Could that swordsman then beco a Low-grade Expert, one who could converse with the Sword Spirit?

My answer was, ‘No.’

Of course, it was possible.

But only much later.

The reason it couldn’t happen imdiately lay in that very ‘adaptation.’

The optimization achieved through repeating and perfecting a set posture was nothing more than dead optimization, rigidly fixed within that fra.

In actual combat, would the opponent obligingly receive your sword exactly in that posture?

Depending on the situation, there would be tis you had to extend your sword further even if your posture broke sowhat, and other tis when you had to fight with your form completely collapsed.

Therefore, once you had engraved the set posture into your body... the next step was to break it.

And in its place, fill it with flexibility.

Instill new tension into the now-comfortable posture!

There was only one way.

“Alright! Set complete! Now then, here I co!”

I raised my sword as it was and leapt into the midst of my disciples, who were exhausted and limp.

Everyone was horrified.

“Ugh! Again?!”

“You even beat us at the start! You’re hitting us again?!”

* * *

This was all part of my deeper intent—

to grant them nimble flexibility!

Smack! Crack! Whack!

Even as their arms trembled violently, I beat down the children who tried, however desperately, to resist.

I struck their swords away, then struck them.

I hooked their legs to topple them, then struck them.

Every single mont, I struck them in a new way, and then struck them again.

Those who blocked poorly, I deliberately struck even more.

For example,

Kids like Catch Soroa.

“Can’t block it? Can’t block it? You can’t even block this?!”

No zeal?

That could be.

But so long as they were living beings, they couldn’t possibly lack the instinct to survive.

“Keuk! Agh! Kkugh! Kraaagh!”

As I began to strike Catch intensively, a savage glint gradually flared up in his eyes. His movents grew sharper and sharper.

Yes! That’s it, Catch! You can do it, can’t you?!

Once the heat had risen enough, I would switch my target and beat soone else.

anwhile, it went without saying that I brushed aside all the children’s frenzied attacks as they charged in screaming, parrying them away and dodging with ease.

Even while moving busily like that, I kindly never let my mouth rest, continuing to impart instruction.

“Martial arts were originally created to avoid being hit. In other words, by being struck, you encounter the very essence of martial arts!”

And that way, you could also et the Sword Spirit.

Thwack! Crack!

This morning’s training was peaceful as ever.

* * *

Knight Burson was bewildered.

‘Is this... really right...?’

At present, he served as the chief instructor of the domain’s army.

Including the Experts, he was in charge of the overall training of the domain forces, which had been organized into a scale of about 7,000 n—approximately 3,500 existing troops and around 3,400 new recruits combined.

There was no one more suitable for the position.

For as the Captain of the Royal Guard Knights, he had commanded thousands of guards and repeatedly defeated the Imperial Army—he was a renowned commander.

In his mind, there was nothing lacking: all kinds of tactics and strategies, as well as combat techniques and training curricula for each branch of soldiers. Each and every one of them was knowledge of a super-elite caliber, rare even across the entire continent.

And yet, even Burson, with all his experience, was feeling this kind of sensation for the very first ti.

“Here is the curriculum. By branch, what’s most important is to drill them in their respective weapon skills—like shield techniques or spear techniques—as well as in formations. That alone must be taught so thoroughly it seeps into their very bones.”

It happened right then, as he was delivering the training plan to the instructors—that is, to Rivera, the young master, and the young ladies.

“Oh-ho.”

“Hoooh?”

“Weapon techniques and formations, you say?”

“That sounds fun.”

The state of the instructors receiving Burson’s words was dark, deeply shadowed.

Seething killing intent.

It was not the kind of killing intent a soldier should display.

To make a comparison—

Yes. It was the sort of madness one would expect from a king or an emperor who could burn down an entire city... the kind of unprecedented butcher who would show such frenzy.

“Don’t worry, old man. We’ll go and crush them thoroughly.”

A cruel darkness fell across Katrina Egion’s face as she took on the role of chief instructor.

“This will be quite entertaining.”

“To be able to put into practice what we’ve learned... how joyous this is.”

Behind her, Rivera, Seah, and the others exuded pitch-black Aura.

Gulp.

Feeling strangely tense, Burson could only swallow his dry throat.

Monts later, screams echoed out from the training grounds they had stepped into.

Burson quietly rose from his seat, shut the window tightly, and poured a steaming cup of freshly brewed smoke-coffee.

Black smoke rose, filling the cup.

Sip—when he drank it, the black smoke left a rich fragrance and a bitter taste before disappearing up through his nose. And the thick extract that settled at the bottom of the cup left a soft yet profound savor lingering in his mouth.

So endlessly peaceful,

so tranquil.

‘I absolutely will not look out the window.’

Burson vowed to himself.

From the murderous aura he had sensed earlier, he felt that the mont he looked outside, he might want to stop the instructors.

And he did not want that.

‘The young ladies and young masters also need to relieve so stress....’

Burson well knew the dreadful training they had been subjected to every morning these days.

‘I know nothing. I know absolutely nothing.’

He faithfully turned his eyes away from the soldiers’ suffering.

Fortunately, the soundproof window bestowed peaceful stillness upon his office.

“Do you know?! That martial arts were originally created to avoid being hit?!”

Until Katrina’s voice pierced through even that soundproof window.

Burson quickly brewed himself another cup of smoke-coffee and closed his eyes.

“I know nothing....”

He murmured softly.

* * *

Four weeks of basic training had passed.

Uncle Burson and my younger siblings had carried out the training mission I had entrusted to them with perfection—and even beyond.

Just looking at the soldiers, who had undergone a near-complete rebirth into sothing resembling elite troops in only four weeks, filled up as if I had eaten my fill without food.

If it were up to my heart, I would have liked to continue the training just like this... but unfortunately, we no longer had the leisure to do so.

“The number of Demonic Beasts along the border has increased to a dangerous degree. For now, we’re sohow protecting the trade routes with temporarily hired warriors, but if we leave it like this any longer, a Wave might occur.”

Rivera warned of a Wave.

Normally, Demonic Beasts lived within their own territories, fighting even among themselves.

But as their numbers grew and their territories overlapped, as encounters among them beca more frequent, at so point they would undergo a trendous change.

When they stopped fighting each other, and gathered together for one purpose only—to slaughter humans.

That was the Wave.

If you lived in Roberland, it was impossible not to know.

For Roberland was the very continent scattered with legends of cities that had perished due to Waves.

Then Seah’s warning followed.

“Training isn’t sothing that can be rushed, so I said nothing. But at the very least, the subjugation must be hurried.”

What she pointed out was a different point altogether from the Monster Wave.

“The movents of the Storm King aren’t normal. He’s recruiting warriors on a massive scale... If things go wrong, we might lose Kashu City.”

“Kashu?”

Which place was he aiming for?

The Kashu that had only just barely been subdued after I killed Blood Count Delkash and threw that whole place into chaos?

“Yes. The Storm King’s long-cherished desire is to seize control of Kinalo City and Kashu City.”

“...Was it?”

“If he manages to grasp those two cities, he’ll completely control the trade route leading up to the northwestern side of Roberland. That would be no different from subjugating all of Norberju.”

Norberju was the term used to collectively refer to the northwestern side of Roberland.

Kushan City, Kashu City, Kinalo City—they all stood at the gateway of Norberju.

“Up until now, not even the Storm King could covet Kinalo. The City of Mages, Kinalo, possessed formidable military might in and of itself, and the other cities had ford a military alliance with Kinalo to keep the Storm King in check.”

“...And the largest allies in that were Kxias and Delkash, huh.”

“That’s right. After Kinalo, their turn would have been next.”

“But both of them are dead.”

“Yes. A power vacuum. If I were the Storm King, I would not miss this chance. I would move to surely subjugate Kinalo and Kashu.”

“I understand what you an.”

“To accomplish the Three-War Strategy... rather, we must move on Kinalo and Kashu first. That’s the prerequisite to defeating the Storm King and conquering the Ailun Grassland.”

In the end, Seah’s request was simple.

Finish the Demonic Beast subjugation as quickly as possible.

After that, move on to Kashu and Kinalo faster than the Storm King.

“Yes. But if Kinalo proves too difficult, then at least form an alliance.”

“I agree.”

“So then... how long will the Demonic Beast subjugation take? Can we cut it down to within two weeks?”

Her voice as she asked was careful.

She knew as well. Just how absurd a ti span two weeks was.

Even a normal Demonic Beast subjugation took four weeks, and right now, because of all the delayed subjugations, the beasts were overflowing.

Two weeks. It was impossible.

But,

We might lose Kashu City?

“One week.”

I couldn’t stand to watch that happen.

At my firm answer, Seah’s eyes widened slightly. For her, that was an extraordinary expression of emotion.

“That... is that possible?”

I reached out and ruffled her navy hair.

Seah. You may be smart, but when it cos to devising military strategies, you can’t keep up with .

Uncle Burson had taught with thoroughness.

And how many Demonic Beast subjugations had I carried out, rolling under Count Kxias?

“It’s enough. One week.”

Of course,

It wouldn’t be easy.

No,

it would be hell.