Sword Devouring Swordmaster-Chapter 68 : Chapter 68

Chapter 68 – War Duel (3)
『The eternal sun of the Eastern Continent— the great “Khan”— unified the vast plains and spread his glory across the world. After building a mighty empire and drenching the continent in blood, the “Khan” ascended to the heavens, following the laws of the Swordmasters, to detach himself from the mortal realm. Yet even after the first Khan departed, the name “Khan” did not vanish.
The Khan is the eternal sun that never sets.
The warriors of the Great Plains, inheriting his will, desired to plant their banners on every inch of land across the continent. But that was not easily done. In time, the vast empire of the “Great Land” fractured. Ideology, ambition, and countless interests plunged the empire into chaos. The Great Land was no longer ruled by a single Khan, but by dozens of lords and a powerless king — the empire turned into a tangle of grinding gears.
In that age of chaos, a Great Warrior appeared, claiming to be a descendant of the Khan. The lords mocked him. They called him a man of no lineage, a brute with no education. The powerful scoffed, and the weak followed suit.
But the mockery did not last long. The so-called heir of Khan slaughtered every lord across the Great Land, and mounted their heads on the ancient Khan’s standard. Beneath that blood-soaked banner, the warriors of the plains trembled in awe.
“Khan has returned.”
The divided powers united in an instant. After all, this land was the domain of the Khan’s children — people who worshipped strength and conquest. A Great Warrior who crushed the heads of nobles without politics or scheming, relying purely on strength — to the warriors of the plains, he was the reincarnated god of war, the Khan returned to earth.
Thus, standing like a god, the Khan’s descendant declared: he would plant the Khan’s banner across the entire continent, reclaim the lost glory, and forge a new age for his people.
The descendant of Khan declared war.
The Great Land had no navy and poor shipbuilding skills, so their conquest turned toward the Eastern Continent. The “War of Conquest” began, and it was swift and brutal. The peaceful nations of the east, softened by years of prosperity, once again tasted the nightmare known in history as the Great Land.
Six nations were consumed by fire and reduced to ash. Men, women, and children were all turned to dust. The Great Land’s Conquest Army always offered but one chance: surrender. If refused, they rejected all negotiation and unleashed utter destruction. Faced with such overwhelming power, the eastern nations capitulated without a fight.
For the Great Land had the descendant of the Khan—and their Conquest Army was the strongest land force on the continent, rivaled only by the Sky Empire. In the end, every nation fell under their rule, save for one.
A tiny, insignificant land—shaped like a tiger’s claw on the map—the peninsula on the far eastern fringe of the continent.
Han.
When the Conquest Army arrived at its doorstep and demanded surrender, the King of Han, dressed in his golden robes, calmly gave a short answer.
“Go to hell.”
No one expected it.
Some said the King of Han had lost his mind from terror. But the real surprise came after. Han repelled the Conquest Army— not once, not twice, but three times. Thus began the longest war of the century.』
***
The witches’ magic had faithfully reconstructed the Great Land’s Conquest Army within the spiritual realm. Though they couldn’t perfectly emulate every detail recorded in history, the army’s might was undeniable. Yet in this moment, the Conqueror’s vanguard stood dumbfounded.
“What in— what is that!?”
Against their charge, the army of Han sent forth a single warrior wearing an old helmet. And that lone swordsman was tearing through the battlefield. With every swing of his sword, the heavens trembled and the wind howled. The proud cavalry were thrown from their mounts and killed instantly. The momentum of the vanguard broke, and the soldiers behind faltered. For their Conquest Army’s pride to be wounded by one man— it was unthinkable.
“Kill him! Tear off his arms and legs! Mount his head on our banner!”
Their fury converged on the lone swordsman. Spearmen surged forward — veterans, men whose names carried weight.
But.
“Guh—!”
Nine of those seasoned soldiers were dead within seven seconds. The others realized something was terribly wrong. The way that swordsman fought— it was unnatural. His first strike was vicious, like that of a vengeful woman warrior. His next was silent and cold, like an assassin’s blade. The last was precise, elegant — a western knight’s thrust.
Someone muttered,
“A spirit…”
And indeed—
“To win this war, Han has summoned a ghost…”
Logic could not explain what they saw.
“A haunted blade… the Sword Demon! The Sword Demon blocks our way!”
Countless spears and blades danced before one man’s sword, and yet they were all being toyed with. Through the dust, the swordsman in the old helmet looked less human than phantom.
Well.
“Fighting on the front lines was a stupid idea after all.”
If they could’ve heard what that swordsman was mumbling to himself, they might not have been so afraid.
“This is insane… I’m not going to die from a sword, I’m going to drop dead from exhaustion.”
「Hahaha, but isn’t it fun?」
“Damn it…”
「I keep telling you, don’t stop at ‘damn’, finish the—」
…Truly insane.
***
The Conquest Army was mighty, yes — but that didn’t mean every soldier in it was. No army in the world could be made of pure elites. That was where my suspicion took root.
Through the eye of doubt, I saw it clearly: the vanguard was weakly composed.
Their muscles were trained, their weapons sharp, their horses strong — their charge formidable. But even the strongest armies had weaknesses.
Their numbers were their greatest strength — and their greatest flaw.
To maintain such vast forces, the Great Land must have chosen mass production over mastery:
better to train a hundred decent soldiers in a week than one master swordsman in twenty years. Thus, while their overall level was high, the number of true elites among them was few.
Even their spears — mass-forged, standard issue — told me as much.
‘Besides, no sane commander would risk true experts in the vanguard. Not when there’s an army to spare.’
For on the battlefield, anything could happen. Even a 「Sword Runner」 could die to a blind arrow or a desperate swing. My master had said: On the battlefield, even a 「Sword Beginner」 can kill a 「Sword Runner」. A famed swordsman can die by the hand of a grieving mother.
And he was right.
“Surround him! Don’t let him disrupt our formation!”
This battlefield was unlike any fight I’d known.
Arrows rained down. When I dodged them, spears followed. Crude weapons — no mana, no aura — just pure muscle. Yet still deadly.
I read the 「Lines」 and barely evaded, spinning and weaving like a dancer. But I couldn’t avoid everything. A spear struck from a blind spot — ting! — a clear note rang out as it glanced off.
The mithril armor Dwight had given me had saved my life.
Dwarven craftsmanship — light, resilient — no common spear could pierce it. I gritted my teeth, slashed the spear’s shaft, and stabbed through a soldier’s chest. Mana surged, and my strength soared. Dozens of ordinary soldiers could be crushed beneath such force.
Yet even with that power, I couldn’t guard every direction. And an army wasn’t just blades and spears — their purpose wasn’t glory, but victory. They would use every brutal tactic available.
“Tie him down!”
A strange chant rang out in the distance.
The words were not human language — not meant for speech, but to trigger phenomena. The moment the chant began, the Lines around me twisted and crawled. A spell? A curse? Whatever it was, I knew one thing: magic was about to strike.
‘Cut it off.’
I’d learned how to counter magic when I fought Jerry Selfit, the Black Mage who invaded my territory. When doubt and Steel Blood merged, even a 「Sword Walker」 could cut through magic itself. I could do it again—But.
“Throw yourselves at him! Hold him down! Just a moment longer, and we’ll bind him!”
The enemy commander, seasoned and sharp, must have sensed the danger from my composure. He barked the right order — soldiers lunged, spears stabbing wildly. I couldn’t swing freely anymore.
Should I use 「Gale」? No — the space was too tight. Without room to move, the wind couldn’t form. Then… rely on my mithril armor? Mithril was famous for resisting the arcane. It might withstand three or four spells…
‘No. That’s not right.’
I shook my head. That wasn’t the best move. Doubt must be applied everywhere — even to one’s own judgment. So what was the best move?
The Lines before me twisted into a thousand possibilities.
Then, from behind—
“Sword Demon Liam! Over here!”
The thunder of hooves followed the voice. I turned — and there she was, mounted on a powerful steed, her long hair whipping like a horse’s tail. The Valkyrie Maia.
A true northern barbarian warrior, rivaling even the Great Land’s cavalry in her mastery of horsemanship.
“A glorious fight, Sword Demon! But how can you wage a war alone? War— is fought together!”
Maia reached out and grabbed me by the arm, hauling me up onto her horse in one fluid motion. In place of her greatsword, she now held a long spear that spun gracefully in her hand.
“Now, let me show my worth too!”
“Wait, Maia— there’s magic coming! I don’t know if it’s a spell or a curse, but—”
“I know! My blood-marked skin warns me — foul sorcery approaches!”
“Then—”
“Do not fear, Sword Demon! Have you forgotten the ancient saying?”
She smiled, eyes burning like coals.
“Only magic can answer magic.”
Valkyrie Maia. As her hair swayed, faint light shimmered behind her — wings of red, glowing like blood.
She sang softly, almost reverently:
“The Winter that never sleeps— walks with me.”
And then she leapt from her horse. As countless spears turned upward, Maia did not fall — she rose, shining wings spread wide.
She looked like the war-angels of the continent’s oldest myths.
A true 「Valkyrie」 come to life.
「The Dance of the Valkyrie… it’s been a long time,」 Liam murmured, delighted.
Moments later, above the battlefield, an angel of death descended — wielding a greatsword in one hand and a long spear in the other.
***
『Name: Valkyrie
Origin: Among the barbarian warriors of the Iron Kingdom’s north, only the greatest female warriors receive this title.
The name is taken from the battle angels of the continent’s creation myths.』