Chapter 72

After finishing the meal, I headed back to the training ground. I decided to do the same training again. Arkan Winterbell wouldn’t move even a single step from his position, and I would try to leave a scratch on his body.

It was the same training as before...

‘This time, I will do it no matter what.’

My mindset had changed.

Izumi Winterbell watched the scene.

She occasionally gave me advice, but to be honest, it didn’t help much. It just seemed like she enjoyed hanging around here. Still, having a senior figure of the family show interest in me wasn’t a bad thing.

“Ran! What’s so hard about cutting someone who’s standing still? Just shut your eyes and swing! Empty your mind!”

Easier said than done.

Even though I understood it in my head, whenever I stood before that massive mountain called Arkan Winterbell, all such thoughts would vanish completely. It was just instinct. Like how prey is gripped by fear when it meets a predator, I was no different.

‘I’m already thinking of defeat inside. Even now, at this very moment.’

Am I truly incapable of ever surpassing Arkan?

Is it impossible even if I were given an eternity?

No.

That can't be.

If I’m given time, I will surely surpass Arkan Winterbell. Even without time, I must believe I can. I must think that way.

I can do this.

I can cut Arkan.

He isn’t an insurmountable wall forever, but a wall that I must overcome one day. Think it. Swear it. Brainwash yourself. Plant the suggestion. Reassure yourself.

Over and over.

Over and over.

‘I can do it. I can cut him. I can do it. I can cut him. I can do it. I can cut him. I can do it. I can cut him. I can do it. I can cut him. I can do it. I can cut him. I can do it. I can cut him. I can do it. I can cut him. I can do it. I can cut him. I can do it. I can cut him.’

Clutching my wildly pounding heart, I stepped forward again. As I drew closer, Arkan exuded killing intent. That murderous aura was blatantly directed at me.

Utterly overwhelming.

It was a fear that gripped me as if I were facing something that shouldn’t exist in this world.

“Haa... haa...”

In an instant, my mind went blank like a sheet of white paper, and my ears went numb. I could hear Izumi’s voice faintly from afar, but I couldn’t make out the words.

Only fear dominated my entire body.

‘Was I really this incompetent? Even if Arkan Winterbell is a monster, did I have such a pitiful spirit that I couldn’t even endure his killing intent and trembled like this? Me? Van Descartes, who vowed to subjugate the Demon King?’

Had my mental strength also regressed because of this new life?

It was humiliating beyond words that I, who once defeated a commander of the Demon King's army, couldn’t even withstand a mere wave of killing intent and trembled like this.

Determination. Tenacity. I’d always believed that at least when it came to willpower, I was second to none.

And yet...

‘Just from a bit of killing intent!’

As I activated the Blood God, my blood boiled like molten lava throughout my body. Crimson mana enveloped me, and steam-like vapors rose from my entire body. Arkan let out an impressed sound, as if intrigued.

“Hooh.”

I didn’t stop there and activated the Bloodfire Grand Heaven Technique. Perhaps because of that, even my hair and irises turned crimson, and every time I exhaled, the heat bubbling from within seeped out in waves.

‘I’ll push myself to the limit. Don’t be afraid. I can do this. Admit it. The man before me is the strongest human in this world. For now, he is indeed an insurmountable wall. An impossibly tall and unyielding mountain. But one day, I’ll surpass him. I can do this. So even now…’

I whispered quietly.

“I can cut you.”

Fwooooooosh!!!

Chaaang!!!

I kicked off the ground, shaking off the killing intent that had been binding my body, and swung my sword with tremendous speed.

I swung it with such force that the muscles in my sword arm tore.

But even so, I grit my teeth and swung with everything I had.

The result—

“…Not bad.”

I succeeded in slicing Arkan’s sleeve.

I hadn’t managed to cut his skin, which was a bit disappointing, but the fact that I had torn the sleeve of someone who could rightly be called a Sword God was satisfying enough.

“…Haha. I did it. I finally did it.”

With this, I had taken one step forward.

In the days when I was still Van Descartes, this would’ve been a simple task. But as Ran Winterbell now, it had been incredibly difficult.

Not only because he was my biological father, but because his very existence had embedded itself in my psyche like a trauma.

That’s why I had unconsciously believed he was a wall I could never overcome.

But now, at this moment, I had overcome that trauma and cut him.

Like a bird breaking through its shell, I had finally faced a world of my own.

Exhausted, I collapsed onto the ground and laughed.

“…Heh. I did it.”

Step. Step.

Arkan approached and looked down at me.

“That’s it. If you keep tying yourself down, your sword will never grow. You must face it with the mindset that you can cut through anything, starting with yourself, before you even swing the blade.”

“…I’ll remember that.”

“You did well just now. Was that the cultivation technique you learned from the Halla Clan, combined with the enhancement magic you developed yourself?”

He saw through it instantly.

It was, after all, Arkan Winterbell.

“Yes.”

“The way you applied it wasn’t bad.

Winterbells have always pursued swordsmanship above all else, but personally, I don’t believe there’s a single right answer to becoming stronger.

In the end, all paths converge at the same destination.

That’s why everyone has their own training method, and if one can grow stronger through their own way, then following that too is the Winterbell way.”

I stared at him blankly.

‘Did he just… praise me? And… encourage me?’

Arkan.

To think that he...

It felt so awkward.

Him coming to my annex to share a meal, him praising me, him saying he would teach me not as the Patriarch but as a father—everything about it felt unbearably awkward.

So awkward, in fact, that every one of his actions felt suspicious. I couldn’t shake the thought that he must have some ulterior motive for treating me like this.

I couldn't help it.

Because you treated me like that all this time.

Because you made me this way.

Because you are the one who made me think like this.

So why?

Why only now...

‘Why are you trying to play the role of a father now?’

The memories of being Van Descartes and those of Ran Winterbell had merged, making the emotions I felt now extremely complicated and confusing.

Even now, I wanted to spill everything inside me, just let it all out—but...

I held back the words that had risen all the way to my throat, because I knew doing so wouldn’t do me any good. Letting emotions take over would only hurt me.

‘Strange how the more time passes, the more I act like a child. Have the minds of Ran Winterbell and Van Descartes truly fused completely?’

[Ran Winterbell. I’ve said this before, but it seems like you lose your ability to think rationally whenever that monster is involved. You and I both know how strong he is, don’t we? You don’t need to let it get to you. Right now, you’re moving forward at a great pace.]

Behemoth offered a bit of comfort in his own way.

For a creature from the Mythical Age, he was surprisingly perceptive and kind in times like this.

What started as a mere contractual relationship had somehow become something I now leaned on quite a bit.

‘A friend. Yeah… I guess I should call him a friend.’

I wondered if the First Patriarch had ever felt the same way toward Behemoth.

“You’ve completed the task I gave you, so now I’ll begin teaching you real swordsmanship.”

Izumi, who had been watching nearby, came over and placed a hand on my head. Then she started ruffling my hair recklessly.

“Well done! I knew you had it in you!”

“Th-thank you.”

“You should walk with your head held a bit higher. That wasn’t as easy as it looked. Not just anyone can pull it off. I bet even among the Winterbells, there aren’t many who could’ve done it if asked.”

“Haha…”

“I’m serious. Even I know that when the moment comes, my hand doesn't move so easily. I’ve been through it.”

Seeing Izumi’s cheerful smile lifted my mood a little.

How could someone with the same blood be so completely different?

Come to think of it, in the process of becoming the Patriarch, most competing siblings usually end up dead.

It’s brutal, but before they’re family, they’re rivals all aiming for the throne.

And yet Izumi Winterbell had survived unscathed and even seemed to maintain a good relationship with Arkan to this day.

Knowing Arkan’s personality, I doubted he’d spare someone’s life just for being blood...

Suddenly, I found myself curious about their past.

‘What did Izumi Winterbell think of Mother?’

Arkan looked at me, holding a tree branch in his hand.

“Ran Winterbell. The swordsmanship I’m about to teach you is a secret technique passed down through our family for generations—one that I personally improved.”

Upon hearing that, Izumi’s eyes lit up.

“Oooh! Don’t tell me you’re really going to teach that technique?”

Arkan ignored her comment and continued.

“As you probably know, the Winterbell family has a long history, and with that history comes an uncountable variety of sword techniques. And not just with swords—other weapons too. Most of them rank among the best in the world, but since a lot of time has passed, some techniques have been adapted to fit the times. The one I’m going to show you is no different.”

Finishing his words, Arkan briefly held his breath. At that moment, the entire area fell silent.

It felt as if time itself had stopped.

He slowly raised the branch.

To me, it looked like a sharpened blade.

Once again, I realized what it meant when people said that for a truly accomplished warrior, the weapon itself no longer mattered.

He had complete control over the surrounding space.

The aura flowing from his whole body.

It was just a small amount of aura, but the tree branch glowed with a powerful blue light.

The glow was so intense it was nearly blinding.

“The symbol of the Winterbell family is the white wolf.

But it’s not just a symbol. In truth, our family has an incredibly deep connection with the white wolf.”

“……”

“That’s why many of our sword techniques mimic a wolf’s movements.”

“……”

“The technique I’m about to show you uses an extremely small amount of aura to break through an opponent’s defense and deliver a guaranteed cut.

It was inspired by the front-paw strike of a certain wolf that was once revered as a spirit beast.

I’ve taken that idea—and refined it in my own way.”

Arkan slowly swung the branch.

“Now. Watch closely.”

And in that moment—