Chapter 62

When Darkin lightly swung his sword toward the empty air, a powerful gust suddenly blew through, shaking the surrounding area with intense vibrations.

Then, he looked at me and spoke.

“You foolish disciple. What do you think is the core of this swordsmanship?”

I shook my head.

“I’m not sure.”

Darkin stared at me and released a murderous aura.

“Think carefully.”

An overwhelming force wrapped around my body, far greater than anything I had ever felt before.

The sheer pressure made it hard to breathe.

‘His mastery over aura is on a whole different level!’

Until now, I hadn’t realized it—but was he finally showing his true strength? Just from this monstrous old man releasing his killing intent, I felt like I was about to lose control of my body. It felt like I wouldn’t be able to break free of this oppressive force unless I used magic.

‘Is this his way of saying he’ll keep tormenting me if I get the answer wrong?’

As if to confirm my suspicion, the murderous aura intensified with each passing moment. Among everyone I’d met so far, his ability to control aura seemed to be the most exceptional.

‘He kept emphasizing the importance of physical strength… so is the answer the perfection of the body?’

“The body!”

Darkin clicked his tongue.

“The body is important, yes, but what I’m referring to is something a bit more specific.”

“What is it?”

“You have to figure that out.”

My skin tingled. The most shocking thing was realizing that just by releasing his aura, he could whip someone like this. If I were still in my old body, before it was remade, I might not have been able to withstand even this aura and collapsed.

I didn’t even remember what it felt like to be half-crippled anymore. The Ran Winterbell of the past, who couldn’t move his lower body.

‘Right. I can’t afford to give up until I find the one who did that to me… the one who killed my mother, and tear him apart with my own hands. I’ll become the Patriarch no matter what, and make that bastard kneel before me.’

Resolving myself once more, I looked closely at Darkin. Perhaps understanding the meaning in my gaze, Darkin took his stance again.

What he held wasn’t even a wooden sword—it was a branch that had fallen to the ground. He exhaled, then stepped forward and swung the branch toward a distant mountain ridge.

Exactly two seconds later—

A deafening boom echoed, and the snow-covered peak of the mountain was sliced diagonally.

I couldn’t hide my shock at the sight.

‘What in the world…’

Just by holding a single tree branch, he had sliced through a distant mountaintop. I couldn’t even sense him using aura…

‘In that brief moment… did he release an explosive wave of sword energy?’

Darkin looked at me and spoke.

“Can you guess the answer now?”

The most important thing was…

“The position of the feet. In other words, the footwork.”

A subtle change crossed Darkin’s face. Just for a moment, a flicker of surprise appeared in his eyes.

I must’ve gotten it right.

“…You’re decent. Yes. The most important thing in this swordsmanship is footwork. Il Swordsmanship—One Sword Technique. It’s a style that allows you to cut through anything in this world with a single swing. But what matters most is the position of your feet.”

Darkin Winterbell looked at me and smiled.

“Il Swordsmanship, Form One: One Step, One Sword. This is the first and only form of Il Swordsmanship. From now on, I will pass this sword technique on to you. Your goal is that mountain I just sliced. You must cut through that mountain peak exactly as I did. And after that…”

W-What did he just say?

Cut that mountain?

No, wait.

I knew this swordsmanship was incredible, and Darkin himself was a remarkable figure, but still—cutting a mountain? That didn’t make any sense.

It’s not like I could spend every day here just training!

“To cut me.”

“…What do you mean by that?”

“Are you deaf? I said to cut me.”

“You mean… you're telling me to learn your swordsmanship and then cut you down with it?”

“Why are you spouting nonsense when you clearly understood what I said?”

“But didn’t you say it’s a one-hit kill sword technique? If I succeed in cutting you, wouldn’t that mean… you’d die?”

“…Do you seriously believe that?”

He said it was a one-hit kill.

A technique designed to kill in a single strike.

Then, wouldn't the moment I complete this sword be the day of your funeral?

I wanted to shout that at him.

But I didn’t. I had a bad feeling that if I said something like that, I’d be worn out before I even got the chance to learn the technique.

“No… I don’t.”

“You spineless brat!”

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

Maybe it was because he’d spent his whole life holding a sword, but this old man had a temper as sharp as his power.

“You’re right,” he said.

…What?

“If you perfected the one-hit kill sword, then yes, it would only make sense that I’d die when you cut me. But do you really think it’s that easy to perfect? Even I, who dedicated my entire life to it, have never completed it. That’s why I’m telling you to swing it at me. If, by some one-in-a-thousand or one-in-ten-thousand chance, you did complete it and killed me with it…”

Darkin stopped mid-sentence.

Why’d he go all ominous all of a sudden? What’s with this guy?

“…There would be nothing more joyful.”

Words I hadn’t expected came out of his mouth. I stared at his face, trying to gauge whether he meant it or not. Maybe sensing my doubt, Darkin didn’t avert his gaze and looked straight back at me.

His eyes were absurdly clear.

And they were burning.

I felt the sincerity.

If I ever cut him down, he’d be genuinely happy.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it would mean my disciple has surpassed me. That my disciple has reached a realm I couldn't attain even after a lifetime of effort. That my disciple has completed the sword I spent my life trying to perfect. How could I not be happy about that? If you truly completed this sword, there’d be no one in the world who could defeat you. The throne of Winterbell would become yours. And since you’d have become the Patriarch with the sword I forged, that would fulfill the lifelong wish I’ve held.”

More than any other words, those felt real.

I could feel how much he meant it when he talked about becoming the Patriarch.

How much he had devoted to this sword.

It came across, even if just vaguely.

Yeah. That’s the kind of obsession it takes to reach the peak. His obsession with the sword was already so far beyond anything I could judge.

What I needed now was a killing will.

No matter how extraordinary one’s talent, body, or knowledge may be—

If there is no driving force to sustain consistent effort, it all becomes meaningless.

‘I’m learning a lot from you, Master.’

Though he was a lunatic and a complete wreck of a man in terms of personality, he was now my teacher. And the fact that I could learn so much from him was something I couldn’t deny.

“I’ll put my heart into it. I’ll make sure I can cut you down with my own hands.”

Hearing that, Darkin burst into roaring laughter.

“Wahahahaha! You really are insane! Good. Good! You must cut me down with your own hands. Kill me, step over my corpse, and sit on the throne of Winterbell! You hear me?”

“Yes. I understand.”

He wasn’t joking—he meant it.

His ultimate technique—

If I could master it perfectly, I would be able to cut through anything that exists in this world with a single strike.

Even if that “anything” were a god.

You never know.

Someday, truly…

In the distant future—

No, perhaps even sooner than I expect—

I might really have to cut down a god.

---

Another month passed.

I cut down my sleep time, and aside from meals, I spent the entire day swinging my sword.

This wasn’t just physical labor—it was training purely focused on perfecting his sword technique, One Step, One Sword.

Every single day, I swung the sword. Again and again, I swung. I swung, and swung, and kept swinging.

But it wasn’t the same cut every time.

Each time I swung, it was a new strike.

In other words, each strike was meant to encompass the totality of my swordsmanship.

One sword.

One slash.

I poured everything into each strike.

And that’s not something easily done. I was using more than 80% of the magic power I had for just one slash.

Do you understand what that means?

It means that after swinging the sword once, I would collapse from exhaustion.

If it were an actual battle, then the moment that single strike failed, my whole body would’ve become a skewer.

Of course, this wasn’t real combat.

It was part of the process of perfecting the technique.

Darkin Winterbell, being my master, still came to see me every day.

“You’ve come, Master.”

“Yeah. I see you’re still wasting your time.”

Really, I couldn’t figure this man out.

When he was serious, he was incredibly serious, but most of the time, it was all jokes and foul language. Despite loving his sword technique more than anything, he made a habit of acting grumpy on purpose.

“When you’re applying force there, your stance is off. Because the power from your lower body isn’t being distributed evenly, that’s where the problem comes from. Now, watch carefully!”

When he lightly swung his sword, a sound like thunder rang out, and the mountain peak split cleanly in two. That mountain over there didn’t stand a chance. Every time Darkin Winterbell demonstrated the technique, it ended up getting split apart.

Suddenly, a thought came to mind.

If this man were to go all out…

It wouldn’t just be a snowy mountain like that.

He could probably split the great sea in half.

Perhaps even more than that.

He hadn’t fully stepped into the realm of transcendence, but at least in terms of understanding the sword, he was already someone who could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with transcendents.

His passion and killing will were aspects I truly respected.

Thinking that, I swung my sword once more—

“What the? Nothing happened after all.”

Nothing happened.

The sword simply cut through the air, stirring up a bit of wind. I let out a sigh and collapsed backward in the shape of a 大.

“This isn’t easy.”

But about three seconds later, a tremendous boom rang out.

“?”

Startled, I shot up and looked toward the source of the sound.

“…What the hell.”

A boulder in the far distance had split along the same path my sword had followed. Compared to Darkin, it was still far from perfect, but considering the short amount of time I’d been training, the growth was astonishing.

‘I’m starting to get it.’

I was beginning to understand how I needed to move.

As Darkin had said, the most important thing was footwork.

And the balance of the lower body.

Depending on how I stepped, the power of the sword changed dramatically. I gulped down the recovery potion next to me and swung my sword again.

‘Once I perfect this, that spar the Patriarch mentioned won’t be a problem.’

The real issue might be controlling my strength. I mean, they’re royalty and heirs to a ducal family. I couldn’t risk killing one of them by failing to hold back.