Sword Devouring Swordmaster-Chapter 62 : Chapter 62

Chapter 62 – Gale (3)
“Brings back old memories.”
Amid the chaos of battle raging across the 「Black Forest」, someone muttered.
“In those days, everyone fought without question. The Arena was called a coliseum then—there were no rules about not killing, and words like justice or reason were nothing but jokes. You children call that age the ‘Era of War,’ don’t you?”
“The old man of the forest reminisces, eh? History itself walks before me.”
“Heh, mind your manners, boy. I’ve lived longer than your parents and grandparents combined, you whelp whose blood’s still wet.”
It was rare for the strongest of each race to personally take the field in a 「Race Duel」. They had ascended too high, carried too much weight—authority, power, responsibility. Such people could not fight carelessly.
They had too much to lose.
“To be honest, this is… enjoyable.”
But right now, that no longer mattered.
The board was set.
“It’s been far too long since I could run wild on a battlefield.”
Unrestrained for the first time in decades, these mighty beings radiated a vigor unfitting for their age. The scent of war rekindled something in them—the thrill of a time long past, when they could clash freely without thought of politics, faith, or profit…
“Battle! Is what sets the heart aflame! Do you finally understand how empty your lives have been, you long-eared weaklings of the forest, you half-witted beasts, you cowardly dwarves of the Sky Mountains?!”
With blood surging hot, the orc warrior who bore tag number 444—King of the Orcs—laughed with booming joy. When his green foot struck the ground, a violent wave of battle aura exploded outward. The earth quaked with every step; countless fighters lost balance and fell.
“That doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate your brute ignorance, orc!”
“Puhehehel! When have you ever understood us in all your long history, elf? We never needed your understanding!”
On the trembling soil, new sprouts burst forth—twisting into vines that bound warriors tight.
Then rain poured down from the night sky. Spirits danced within the rain; each droplet hardened into a clear spear that pierced the enemy ranks. With a single gesture from an elf who had lived eons, nature itself became violence.
“How uncouth you’ve all become. So… vulgar.”
Within the frenzy, shadows deeper than night crept forth. Without a whisper, darkness swallowed warriors whole and called forth hell into the living world. Screams and despair consumed the forest as the Nobles of the Night laughed elegantly.
But from within that darkness, flames rose.
“You talk too much, spoiled by peace. Unlike you, we still live in war! What would you pampered flowers of the plains know of the hardship of the Sky Mountains? You greenhouse weeds could never best the hardy dwarves─!”
Lightning.
Sparks of metal-born violence erupted.
Each deafening roar was followed by screams as the Iron Men, clad in the continent’s sturdiest armor, trampled the fallen.
A miniature war unfolded before all eyes—one that recalled the ancient 「Race War」, when the seven races once fought for dominion.
And then—
“You damned dwarf! What’s that absurd armor of black iron you’re wearing?”
“My apologies, but the Sky Mountains are home to far deadlier spirits than yours, long-ears. To survive, we had to learn how to kill them.”
The first race fell.
“Curse the blessings of your World Tree. You’ve never had anything to protect, nothing to hate enough to kill for. So it’s no wonder you’ve lost.”
The Elves. Their King, bearer of tag 444, was defeated by Dwight, the dwarven vanguard.
“Filthy orc bastards!”
And next—
“T-The chieftain… he’s actually participating? This can’t—”
“Puheheh, chieftain? What an honor! Sadly, I’m but a mere elder.”
The Beastmen.
“If our High Chieftain were here, the rest of you would’ve been slaughtered before nightfall! Puheheh!”
The wolf-shaped beastman was stripped of tag 444 by the Orc King, and with that, the Beastmen were eliminated. Two races fell in an instant.
“Hmph.”
And then—
“The night is nearly over. I smell dawn.”
The Demons quietly withdrew.
“Once the sun rises, it will only expose us at our worst. Better to leave in grace than linger in disgrace. A human once said, ‘Leave while the applause still sounds.’”
Without hesitation, they forfeited as the sky lightened.
The Demons’ tag number 444 was cast to the ground.
“This will do. I’ve had fun watching the fascinating humans.”
Thus, three races withdrew. As dawn broke, only three remained—Humans, Orcs, and Dwarves.
And then…
“That one… is just a 「Sword Walker」…?”
Amid the chaos, one human fighter stood at the center of all attention.
***
The broken blade of 「Gale」 had marked the wanderer’s end. Even snapped, the sword he’d held to the very last breath resembled him—unyielding, mocked by all, unrecognized by anyone, yet steadfast, even if his efforts bore no fruit.
The old master of Gale never knew where his final wind reached. But as he died, he held no regrets.
He did not look back on his life—only faced the present that embodied it.
Like a wind that wandered without destination.
Like a gale that swept forward, brushing past all things.
The wind was complete precisely because it never looked back for results.
“Haa—”
My body, now light, moved freely across the battlefield.
My senses were razor-sharp, detecting enemies before they came near.
My 「Path」 collided with theirs—a phenomenon that always occurred when swordsmen above the level of 「Sword Walker」 crossed blades.
Victory depended on whose Path was more efficient, more complete.
But right now, I didn’t need to go through that process.
“……?”
There was no collision. I merely let them pass.
The moment their blades brushed mine, their Paths faltered—disrupted, tangled, shattered.
A sword that broke the flow. Centered on me, the gale swept my foes away.
Even 「Sword Runners」 could not easily counter such a mystery.
I saw many paths. The disciplined, steady Path of the knight Fetel. The wary, doubting Path born of my own suspicion. And the blazing Path of a Hero, revealed only in rare moments.
But at this moment, I followed none of them. Instead, I chose one more faint, aimless, and free of destination—the wanderer’s 「Path of the Wind.」
“What kind of clown trick is this!”
It was not a Path meant to sever necks.
It merely brushed past. As the wind touched them, their paths twisted into chaotic spirals, turning into whirling vortices centered around me. Enemies lost balance without knowing why.
「For a chaotic melee, this sword is unmatched.」
Liam’s words were right. In this moment, I was like a ghost in the Arena.
An invisible phantom that none could touch—a Sword Demon.
But I needed to remember—No matter how wondrous this sword’s power was…
“Hooh.”
—I was still just a fledgling.
“The descendant of Steel—wielding quite an interesting blade, aren’t you?”
The wind stopped at the battlefield’s center. As my trance faded, I looked up. Before me stood a figure clad in pitch-black iron armor.
A dwarf—yet not merely a dwarf. His stature was small, but his presence was immense.
“At your current level, you shouldn’t possess such power. Is it the strength of Steel?”
I could not see his path. Nor could I sweep him away with wind.
Because—
「Now you’ll know how those who faced your sword felt, young descendant.」
His aura was heavy—immensely dense and solid.
As if…
「Not quite like us, but strikingly close.」
…it was the same as looking at my own sword— born from the core of my heart.
「He’s forged Steel itself.」
「Not through blessed blood—but through pure effort.」
Yes. He was truly an Iron Man.
“I cleared the field of distractions before coming. You see?”
Dwight grinned and pointed behind him.
“Now only we dwarves and you humans remain.”
Behind him lay the massive body of the fallen Orc King—eyes rolled back, a large X engraved across his 444-tag clenched in his teeth.
The Orcs had been defeated—likely by the dwarf before me.
“How ironic. You, descendant of Steel, belong to both races, do you not? How amusing.”
“……”
“Whoever wins, you lose nothing. Hah!”
Dwight’s eyes gleamed.
“I showed disgrace earlier. My heart says I’d grant you anything you wish, descendant of Steel—but I doubt you’d want an empty victory, would you?”
“No.”
“I think what would please you most is trial. A harsh, unrelenting trial that hammers the Steel Blood within you until it’s on the verge of breaking.”
He drew a massive hammer from his back.
“In return for my earlier disgrace, I’ll be that trial.”
“……”
“I assure you—”
For a moment, I saw a hallucination.
The dwarf before me vanished—replaced by something far greater.
“You will now face the wall.”
Before me stood a fortress.
***
「I’ll be honest, young descendant.」
“……”
「Sending that dwarf into battle is practically cheating.」
Liam’s tone was grave.
「It’s no wonder that mighty orc fell. Even with all his strength, he was just an elder.」
The dwarf before me said nothing—just stared.
「To defeat this one, the orcs would’ve needed at least a chieftain—and even then, they wouldn’t have won. At best, it would’ve been an even match.」
“……”
「Do you know why?」
Still, Dwight appeared to me as a fortress—an unshakable bastion of iron.
I was briefly overwhelmed, but as my focus sharpened, I saw the truth.
It wasn’t a fortress. It only looked like one.
It was armor. Which meant—「He’s a Sword Expert.」
The mark of mastery.
“I won’t hold back, descendant of Steel. The foes you’ll face ahead will be far mightier than I. You’ll battle those who command armor itself, and beyond them, the ones who’ve forged their souls into blades—the Absolutes. Just as the great Karavan once did in the Era of War.”
“……”
“And inevitably, you’ll cross swords with the Prince’s Executioner.”
Dwight’s voice was steady as he lifted his hammer.
“Compared to them, I’m nothing but a weakling. They can erase dwarves from the world with a single sword, wage war against a nation and carve it out of history, even cut through heaven and sea to mock the gods themselves.”
“……”
“One day, you will stand among them. That is the fate of Steel—the destiny flowing through your blood.”
The hammer in his grasp began to move.
“I pray this trial serves you well.”
Thus began the final battle of the 「Race Duel」.