Sword Devouring Swordmaster-Chapter 2 : Chapter 2

Chapter 2. Needle (1)
A Swordmaster can only be killed by another Swordmaster.
That was a very old adage, and even children knew it as common sense.
***
Was it because I had stayed too long in the mansion steeped in the stench of corpses? Or perhaps because I had spent far too long without speaking to another person? A blade was speaking to me. Maybe I ought to go to a nearby temple and have a priest look me over.
It was not such a rare symptom. I had read in books that soldiers who had fought in many wars, or people who had gone through horrors, experienced the same thing. The shock I had suffered was greater, not less, than theirs.
I stared with dead eyes at the Karavan family treasure.
The voice rang out again.
A heavy, commanding voice, like a lion’s roar.
「Eat me, heir of Karavan.」
「Then you will gain what you desire.」
Could it be that my father too had heard such hallucinations before he succumbed to madness?
I shut my mouth and stared blankly at the sword. Then, on top of the voice, I began to see visions. Behind the sword shimmered the outline of a transparent figure—an old man with the same heroic face as in the portrait. His face was wrinkled, yet his gaze gleamed sharp as a blade.
As I watched the vivid illusion, I unknowingly opened my mouth.
“Do you even know what it is I desire, to speak so?”
A moment of silence passed, then came the reply.
「To become a Swordmaster. To grow strong enough to kill a Swordmaster.」
“…….”
「I guarantee it. Without my help you can never kill that Swordmaster. The one who came here a year ago was far beyond what your generation could produce.」
The phantom by the sword said,
「That man was the sort of Swordmaster who could only have been born in an age of war. No matter how much a green whelp like you trains, you can never have your revenge. So I will help you.」
“……How?”
「Eat me. Then you will know everything.」
Again, incomprehensible words.
The idea that I was conversing with a hallucination only I could see was laughable. Yet I could not ignore it. Something in me told me I must not. The phantom of the sword gave off an oppressive weight that was unnaturally powerful.
So once again, I asked a foolish question.
“Why would you help me?”
This time the reply came immediately.
「Because you are my descendant, who inherited the steel blood.」
“…….”
「That Swordmaster is not only your enemy. He dared to cruelly harm the great one’s descendant. So I intend to use you to judge him. In the name of Karavan.」
The phantom’s eyes shone. Like the gleam of a sword.
「You heard his words, so you know. The old stories your innocent father told you were true. Not empty pride invented like other nobles did, but real. Karavan was greater than anyone. Once.」
For some reason, in that moment, I was drawn into his gaze. So I gave a strange answer.
“……How should I eat you?”
Perhaps I too had already gone mad. Like my father.
***
The phantom of the sword said bizarre things.
Everything he said was hard to believe.
「The Karavan family’s blood is mixed with human and dwarf blood. That trait came from me, a half-dwarf. That is why people said the Karavan family had steel blood.」
Dwarf blood, he said.
That was absurd. No one in our family had ever shown any dwarven traits: short stature, bones thick as stone, luxuriant beards sprouting after age seven, or skin tough against fire.
Neither I nor my father bore such traits. Even the portraits of past heads of house showed none of them.
「Though no such features showed, I had one special ability. By consuming blades—swords, to be precise—I could take in the memories and power within them. All my descendants inherited that ability. That is the decisive reason why the Karavan family produced Swordmasters for generations.」
…
「The method is not hard. Heat the blade until it is glowing, then break it apart with your teeth and swallow it like a baguette. It will seep into your stomach and mix with your steel blood.」
The words that followed were even more ridiculous.
Chew up and swallow a sword? Doing that would shatter my palate and gums. If shards lodged in my throat, I would die horribly. Even if I did swallow it whole, I would not survive.
And there was no record in any book that dwarves had such abilities. It was true they were friends to steel and fire, but never had it been written that they carried such mysteries in their bodies……
As I thought this, the phantom said,
「You do not believe me. Indeed, to your generation that has forgotten all, these words must sound absurd.」
It was as if he had pierced through my thoughts.
「If you cannot believe it, then do not do it. I will not force you.」
“…….”
「But you know, don’t you? That whatever you do alone, you can never reach your goal.」
The phantom’s eyes bore into me.
「This past year you bought a fencing manual and practiced alone in the yard. And you felt despair. Your body was frail as a woman’s. Your muscles did not grow, your bones were pitifully thin, your frame small. You lacked even the wit to grasp the principles of swordsmanship. You are a mediocrity who cannot reach even Sword Runner, let alone Swordmaster.」
“…….”
「The calluses on your hands are nothing but wasted effort. You wasted a whole year, and in that time the Swordmaster you hate grew even greater. He was born with that talent.」
The phantom’s voice stabbed me as keenly as a blade.
I could not ignore his words. For they were all true.
「If you will not believe, then spend your life as you have. Waste your efforts, curse yourself, and watch from afar as that man walks the heroic path.」
That was decisive. Hearing those words, I reached out and snatched the sharp sword from the wall.
Even on second glance, it was too sharp to be a blade over five hundred years old.
Just a graze could cut flesh away.
Gripping the hilt carefully, I went out into the yard.
The phantom asked,
「Where are you taking me?」
“To put you in fire.”
「In fire?」
I answered his question.
“You said it had to be heated before eating, didn’t you?”
Better to die trying than to live like this.
I resolved to stake my life on this madness.
***
“Keugh, kuk!”
To say it plainly, chewing and swallowing a heated blade was utterly horrific. So what was the result? Well, the very fact that I am giving this account is proof I survived.
“Chew… ugh, kuk.”
It felt as though my palate was torn apart and burned. My throat ripped, and my stomach drenched in molten steel. Yet astonishingly, it was pain alone—I suffered no wounds.
My palate was intact, and no matter how much I coughed, not a drop of blood came from my throat.
As I marveled at the strange phenomenon, the phantom of the sword spoke.
No—the fact that his words proved true meant he was no mere phantom. Since I had actually eaten the sword, I now knew his name and must call him by it.
「Now you can believe. My words were true. I am no hallucination born of your weakness.」
Liam Karavan.
Founder of the Karavan family.
“……Yes, Founder.”
「Founder? Hah, that’s a laugh. Enough, no need to call me that.」
“Then what?”
Liam said indifferently,
「Call me Master. When I taught my descendants, they all called me that.」
The title was set.
“Yes, Master.”
I exhaled long. For some reason the breath felt hot. Even after wiping my lips and drinking cool water, I felt no relief. My stomach still burned. I rubbed my belly and asked Liam,
“Master, I feel no change yet.”
「No change?」
Liam frowned. I nodded honestly.
“Yes. I can see your body more clearly and hear your voice better, but aside from that—”
「Strange. Wait.」
Liam reached his hand toward my chest. His transparent hand swept around my heart a few times, then he clicked his tongue.
「Over generations, my blood has thinned. The ability was inherited, but weakened.」
“Weakened? How?”
「Normally, by feeding you my sword—my beloved blade from life—I could have raised you straight to the realm of Swordmaster. But you are different.」
Liam said,
「Your bloodline’s power is far below mine. You swallowed, but failed to digest it.」
“…….”
「To digest the essence in my sword, you must first raise yourself far higher. Damn it, not only is your body useless, even your blood is wretched. Cursed descendant.」
He goaded me annoyingly, but I had no defense. For indeed, I was useless.
「Then it can’t be helped.」
Thankfully, our family’s founder—my Master—did not abandon me. With a sigh, he told me another way.
「You should eat blades suited to your level.」
“Blades suited to me?”
「Yes.」
Liam floated in the air, arms crossed, looking down at me.
「Is there a weapon shop nearby? Not new weapons—I need swords that have been used for a long time.」
***
I left the village for the first time in a while.
Carriages no longer traveled here, so I had to walk the rough path. Pushing through the forest trail, I reached the nearest town. In its center, merchants hawked their wares.
“Fresh fruit, come and try!”
I passed by the fruit seller and entered a narrow alley. At its mouth I felt heat—the heat of a forge. The smell of iron being struck. But that was not our goal.
「The older the weapon, the better. Take me where old swords are. I will choose.」
I walked to where Liam required.
Past the forge, deeper still. Soon, with a stench, the slums came into view. Filthy children lived in trash heaps. Hopeless eyes filled with despair. Where they lived, trash piled up.
I heard rats squeak. The inhabitants were beggars, rats, cats, and bugs.
“Please, just a coin.”
“Give me a piece of bread, I’ll do anything. Anything you want?”
I shook off the beggars clutching my legs and went deeper. There was a mountain of trash: discarded clothes, broken glass, ruined goods. And protruding among them, dried hands. The trash included corpses no one sought.
「A place necromancers would love.」
I climbed the mountain slowly as Liam spoke. The feel of flesh beneath my soles sickened me. The stench of corpses was stronger here than in my mansion. When I climbed far enough, my shoe struck metal with a clang.
“There should be many discarded blades here. The slum children gather what they find and pile them up. Some weapons get washed in by rain. Most are useless, but nowhere nearby is better to find old swords.”
「Good.」
Liam drifted toward the place I indicated.
「I too once fed on swords in places thick with the smell of blood. Battlefields. The blades of dead soldiers still clutched, the dirt-covered abandoned swords—I devoured them all. This place is quieter, but it reminds me of that.」
His transparent hand swept the tangle of metal.
Then—「Found it.」
“Already?”
「Yes. Take it out.」
“Which one…?”
「The one I point to.」
I frowned and looked where he gestured.
Again I checked Liam’s eyes. They were certain. As if to say: You saw right, that is the one.
‘…That’s not a sword, is it?’
I reached into the heap and pulled out what he meant. In sunlight the dull weapon gleamed faintly.
Liam said,
「Once you eat it, you will know my choice was right. Treasure it.」
“…….”
「It will make you, pitiful as you are, a little more of a swordsman.」
Still I was puzzled.
For in my hand was something too slender to be called a sword.
It was not so much a blade as… what to call it? A needle.
***
「Designation: Liam’s Beloved Sword」
「The sword often wielded by Liam Karavan, founder of the Karavan family.」
「Though centuries old, it has not rusted and still retains its edge.」
「The Karavan family treasure.」
…
「Ingestion effect」
「Your connection with the soul of Liam Karavan has deepened.」
「Currently digesting」