Sword Devouring Swordmaster-Chapter 55 : Chapter 55

Chapter 55 – Race Duel (4)
“I’m going to kill someone tomorrow.”
It was a dawn so cold and blue it looked like the sky itself might shatter when you said those words.
“I don’t know who the person I’ll kill has lived as, or how they’ll die. I don’t even know what they’ll be thinking in those final moments. I’ll probably never know, for the rest of my life.”
Your voice was calm—too calm.
Pressed against the cold windowpane, your face was pale as glass.
“Tomorrow, I’ll cast the spell I’ve spent my whole life learning. The magic I weave will tear people apart—so easily, so efficiently.”
In my eyes, your face was clearer, more transparent, than the window itself.
“With a single incantation, a simple wave of my hand, they’ll vanish from this world. Innocent people—people who loved and were loved.”
It was inevitable, really.
You had been invited to the Labyrinth City by its lord—a mage of renown, summoned to ensure victory in the coming war at the city walls.
The lord wished for you to unleash your magic to massacre as many enemies as possible, to crush their morale with dreadful mystery and overwhelming power.
You were bound by duty to fulfill that wish. So, tomorrow, you would kill. Even if not tomorrow, the day would have come eventually. In this age of endless wars, mages were nothing but tools of slaughter. The world demanded that they destroy, demanded that they prove their worth through bloodshed.
Perhaps, for a mage, killing was destiny.
But—“…I’m so afraid.”
Was that truly the only thing you were meant for?
“I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t want to take innocent lives. I don’t want to use the magic I’ve studied all my life to hurt others.”
“……”
“I’m terrified. I wish tomorrow would never come—ever.”
Tears fell from your crystal eyes.
You covered your face, sobbing quietly.
I didn’t want you to cry.
I didn’t want you to grieve.
I wanted only for you to be happy.
“I wish this moment could last forever instead of that horrible tomorrow. I wish this dreamlike moment would never end. I wish for it with all my heart.”
So did I.
“If tomorrow comes, if I kill people, I feel like I’ll lose something precious. I’ll stop being human—become something else wearing a human’s skin.”
“……”
“So I’m… so scared.”
I watched you tremble through your sobs. Then, for the first time since we met, I reached out to you—wiping your tears with my rough, calloused fingers, gently brushing your cold cheek.
Your clear eyes widened slightly, glistening like droplets of water as they met mine.
Our gazes locked.
“Don’t be afraid.”
When I felt your breath against my lips, I knew—“Nothing will happen.”
That there was nothing I wouldn’t do for you.
“When you open your eyes tomorrow morning, nothing will have changed.”
Absolutely nothing.
“So sleep, and stay just as you are now.”
“……”
“Nothing will change. Everything will be as it was.”
You nodded, dazed.
That dawn was bluer than any other.
The windowpane in your room gleamed blue.
The walls surrounding the Labyrinth City glowed with a blue hue. And the sword in my hand reflected that same blue light of dawn.
“You need only remain yourself.”
That day, I faced the army that descended upon the Labyrinth City—alone, sword in hand.
I did not fight as a 「Sword Runner」 with wings spread. Nor as an outsider from the 「Great Land.」That day, I was just a man.
A gust of wind from a distant shore.
In your words—I became a gale.
.
.
.
The sword in my hand flickered faintly. In that moment, the weapon I held wasn’t the dwarven steel blade Daisy had gifted me—it was an Eastern sword once wielded by a nameless ronin from a faraway age.
My appearance, too, had changed.
The garments on my body had turned to tattered cloth, and a worn straw hat rested atop my head. Before my eyes stretched not a forest of waving grass, but a sun-blasted desert.
Beyond the curtain of dust lay the legion—my inevitable foes.
“Out of the way, human fighter—!”
Killing intent surged from every direction. Blades and spells converged, trying to bind me, crush me, end me. But no attack in this world could ever hold the wind.
『Who can defy the wind that blows?』
I swung my sword as if dancing.
The air around me rippled, and a storm rose.
The attacks hurled at me scattered wildly, and I turned in place, spinning like a whirlwind.
The gale followed my motion, battering my enemies.
They staggered, fell.
『Before the wind, we are all but dust.』
I slid forward and thrust. My blade skimmed along an enemy’s weapon, slipped inside their guard, and spun again—breaking through the encirclement. For a fleeting moment, I was the wind.
My blade drew elegant arcs, cutting through vital points as red blood scattered.
“Damn—”
The memory of 「Gale」 surged vividly, sharpening every sense. I could see the most natural, most free way to move. With one step I could cross an impossible distance; with one swing, shatter dozens of blows.
A fighter with wings unfurled charged at me.
I did not dodge.
Retreating now would mean losing my momentum.
There was no such thing as wind that looked back.
The wind moved only forward—Steadfastly.
“Hu—”
My second heart throbbed like a drum. Strength of steel filled my body.
Our blades met—and mine won.
A deafening clang split the air, the enemy’s weapon flew apart, and his eyes quivered in disbelief.
“A mere 「Sword Walker」—how can your sword be this strong—”
I didn’t stop. Lines appeared clearly before my eyes.
I followed them and thrust.
Wind roared, infused with steel’s might, and the irresistible gale lifted my foes into the air.
『There is no paradise in flight.』
I shifted my stance.
The 「Wild Instinct」 within me surged forth, roaring.
One sweeping strike drew a great arc and cut down several enemies at once.
Blood sprayed. And in that instant, another blade sought my flank—『My duel of honor was never for honor itself.』
The crude orcish technique turned into the smooth blade of a knight. With a seamless motion, I countered, slamming my foe into the dirt. Even I was astonished at the elegance of it.
“They call you Sword Demon, and rightly so.”
Indeed—To them, it must have looked inhuman.
“Phew—”
I caught my breath, and the 「Mana Heart」 filled me anew.
Lines within my body glowed brighter, muscles burning like heated iron.
The air tensed.
And then—“Detonate, all of them!”
Something changed.
“No need to finish them! It’s night now!”
A cloud of pale dust exploded into the air like fog.
My sharpened senses rang with alarm.
Danger. A warning to move—now.
‘…Poison?’
The fighters nearest the cloud went glassy-eyed.
Not in agony—but drifting, drowsy, lulled as if into gentle sleep.
Some began to doze standing up.
Sleep. Drowsiness.
The words flashed in my mind, and Seol Yoon’s warning echoed.
‘Sleeping where demons roam is no different from leaping into fire.’
Demons.The moment I recalled the word, a voice shouted from afar—“No need to kill them! It’s night now!”
Then I understood. This battlefield now belonged to the Demons.
But—‘I have no idea what’s coming.’
I didn’t know what happened when one slept before them.
I didn’t know what they became under the moon and stars.
But one thing I did know—
“────!”
It was dangerous.
‘Sounds like a butcher’s blade cutting livestock.’
Horrid screams rose everywhere. It was the sound of life being flayed, mingled with the laughter of things out of nightmares. Every hair on my body stood.
“Retreat!”
The fighters, terrified beyond reason, scattered. But I faced the oncoming fog with my sword ready. Retreat wasn’t my only option.
『Not to be swept away—』
To become the wind.
『—but to sweep all away.』
My sword traced a circle. The air spun, gathering the drifting powder into a single vortex.
I didn’t know the exact mechanism, but I’d seen how deadly it could be near Demons—so I would use it myself.
“Seol Yoon! I’ll make a path for us!”
This would carve out a new Path.
I didn’t need to fight directly—That dust, that sleep, was what summoned the Demons, and anyone who feared them would flee from where I moved, as they’d fled from the orcs before.
But there was something I’d overlooked. I didn’t know enough about the Demons. In truth—I was ignorant.
“No! Little Gladiator!”
Seol Yoon’s voice thundered from behind me.
“The Demons are already here! If you go that way, you’ll—”
Before she could finish, she dashed toward me.
Her voice echoed, but I couldn’t make out the words.
“───!”
And before I could even think—darkness swallowed us whole.
Complete blackness—no light, no sound.
The absolute silence and shadow struck raw terror into my bones.
Then—“Do you know the creation myths of this continent?”
A deep male voice reverberated from every direction.
“Curiously, the words of devils are the most logical of all. They speak more convincingly—and more truthfully—than the naïve, irresponsible angels ever could.”
Each time he spoke, it felt as if invisible hands tightened around my throat. Breathing became impossible; my senses drowned as if submerged underwater. And then, laughter—light, carefree laughter—echoed all around. Cheerful, delighted, utterly mad.
A laugh that didn’t belong in this world.
“A lovely night, isn’t it, little human boy?”
A spark flared in the dark.
Firelight bloomed, pushing the blackness back—revealing a man.
Slicked-back hair, immaculate black suit, elegance dripping from every motion.
From the instant I saw him, one word circled in my mind: noble.
Nothing else fit.
A Demon.
A noble of the night stood before me.
“I invite you to an endless night of delight.”
His voice was a whisper by my ear, smooth and enticing. Standing before him, I felt like an insect—helpless, unworthy of defiance.
But then—“Oh.”
As despair gnawed at me, heat flared in my chest—like a spark in the dark.
“You possess… something fascinating.”
That heat spread through my body, wildfire under my skin.
My fogged mind cleared; clarity returned, cutting through the dark.
“That is… not something a human should have.”
As if—I were waking from a dream.
The heat from my chest surged upward, setting my head ablaze. From the crown down to my eyes and nose, everything burned bright.
This unfamiliar heat was… somehow familiar.
I’d felt it once before.
‘Steel heir, with your immature sword you cannot yet cut the Mystical.’
Yes—The Orc Elder of the Sacred Ground.
The great shaman, Sherdik.
‘When darkness beyond your strength falls upon you, this shall aid you.’
That warmth—the moment he patted my head and spoke those words.
‘This is the gift of Sherdik, the Orc Shaman, to the heir of the great warrior.’
Now, that gift blazed—and devoured the darkness.
***
“Pu-hel-hel.”
Under the black night sky atop a high mountain, the Orc Shaman Sherdik let out a deep, guttural laugh.
Reading the flow of the stars, he understood what had befallen his distant “human friend.”
The steel-blooded heir he thought he’d never see again was now facing his trial.
“Yes, that immature sword still cannot cut the Mystical. Pu-hel-hel. So now, entrust yourself to my little aid.” Sitting in the Sacred Ground, Sherdik cackled crudely.
“The gift of Sherdik, Shaman of the Orcs, finally shines. Pu-huhu! Seems I’m not so old after all. Fate flows just as I foresaw!”
He bared his tusks and roared with laughter.
A giver’s joy lies in seeing their gift well used—and Sherdik was proud indeed that his blessing had awakened.
A gift beyond compare, even against the five Guardian Stones.
A grace never granted to any but the noblest of orc warriors.
He looked up at the starry night, unable to hide his delight.
“Let’s see what faces those devil-spawned wretches make now, heh-hel-hel!”
And upon the Sacred Ground, the laughter of an orc thundered through the holy night.