Sword Devouring Swordmaster-Chapter 71 : Chapter 71

Chapter 71. War Duel (6)
Dragon.
The mightiest of all lifeforms that reigned supreme over the seven races—lord of the skies, a being that grew endlessly through the passage of time. In that moment, the dragon that appeared above the battlefield—the 「Guardian Dragon」—looked down upon the enemies with an air both serene and regal. Within their eyes, it read a torrent of emotions: fear, confusion, and even a faint reverence…
Such gazes were nothing new to a dragon. Every creature on the ground looked upon the rulers of the sky with the same feelings. Now, as the Guardian Dragon spread its wings wide, it did what was most “dragon-like.” It savored the fear of the lesser beings below, reminded itself of its own magnificence, and in the next instant—began sweeping those insignificant lives from its sight.
It was far too easy.
The dragon didn’t even need to invoke Dragon Words—the miracles that defied logic—or rely on its colossal mass, nor the innate arsenal of spells it had known since birth. It merely did what all living beings did: it inhaled and exhaled.
For lesser beings, breathing was the essence of life. For dragons, that breath meant something else entirely. The Mana it drew in was transmuted within its lungs into pure elements, and a special organ near its windpipe turned those elements into sheer destruction—into a merciless force that annihilated all things.
“Raise the barrier!”
The commander of the 「Great Land」’s conquest army shouted in desperation. Some of the magic troops, barely surviving the Valkyrie Maia’s assault, hastily cast protective shields—a transparent dome of resistance against external attack.
But resistance against a dragon’s breath—against a being deemed the “most perfect existence” among the seven races—was impossible for mere human sorcery.
“We can’t hold i—”
A beam of light shot from the heavens. It struck dead center among the tightly packed conquest troops, and a crimson point appeared. The crimson point slid forward in the direction of the dragon’s open maw, drawing a long line across the battlefield. Nothing remained in its wake. Countless soldiers perished without even leaving ashes behind.
Even those lucky enough to survive were no better off. Limbs and torsos scorched away by that light left men crawling across the ground, screaming in agony. The ghastly sight shattered the army’s morale; the once-boisterous soldiers were paralyzed by the sight of their ruined comrades.
And yet, the conquest army of the 「Great Land」—the army that never retreated—did not lose its courage. They had always fought to the very end, even in the face of overwhelming death.
The Guardian Dragon, descended here to protect Han, knew that truth. So it opened its maw once more—But instead of releasing its breath, it roared.
A roar so pure with Mana that the very air trembled.
“────!”
The sound that followed was no mere growl—it was a cataclysm of sound that tore through the cavalry ranks.
Dragon Fear.
When the apex predator of the continent roared, the cavalrymen’s horses froze. Their primal survival instinct took hold, paralyzing them. Uncontrollable terror spread like a disease through the soldiers’ minds.
And then—
“Ugh—!”
The horses went mad. One after another, they reared and bucked, throwing riders to the ground. Formations collapsed into chaos, and some soldiers were killed by the hooves of their own mounts.
In the midst of that pandemonium, the commander shouted again:
“A-Arrows! Javelins! Anything—!”
Ears still ringing, he barely managed to issue orders. The soldiers obeyed, launching volleys of projectiles skyward. A few even reached the dragon—But it was meaningless. The dragon did not fail to evade them. It simply did not bother.
“Ah…”
The dragon’s scales were the hardest material known to the continent. To even scratch one required a weapon forged of the “Three Great Metals,” or a sword wrought by a 「Swordmaster」 capable of cutting through anything. Remembering that too late, despair washed over the commander’s face.
How could he possibly overcome this? The Descendant of Khan—the only one who might have stood a chance—was not even here…
Then, a voice called out from somewhere:
“It’ll vanish soon. Don’t worry—just minimize the damage. I heard the Guardian Dragon can only rampage for one minute.”
They were warriors from the Eastern Continent.
They knew that this dragon was a magical reproduction by a witch—usable only three times, limited to one minute each.
“Look at the corpses and it seems hopeless, but the army’s numbers haven’t really thinned. After all…”
He laughed bitterly.
“...there are just too damn many of them, aren’t there?”
The Eastern Continent fighters weren’t afraid. Especially not those from Han. They had witnessed the real war, not this re-enactment. They already knew how it ended.
The Conquest Army of the 「Great Land」 would win. Always.
Dragon relics? Brilliant warriors? The Guardian Dragon itself?
“None of that matters.”
They knew from experience—Han had truly fallen.
They remembered the shattered walls, the screams within the breached gates, the mangled corpses, and the Guardian Dragon’s body lying dead, tongue lolling lifelessly.
Even a dragon, a being of myth, couldn’t stop the malice of the conquerors who had trampled the East. This time would be no different. The same cruelty would burn everything away, just as it had when Han disappeared into history.
***
The Guardian Dragon, summoned by the 「Dragon Sword」, had exceeded all expectations.
The defenders, nearly forced back to the walls, regained ground and managed to reform their ranks. Even more importantly, the dragon’s appearance had crushed the enemy’s morale—a decisive factor in any large-scale battle.
Only two summonings remained, but for now, it was worth it.
As panic spread through the Conquest Army, the open sky slowly closed again. After one minute, the dragon faded like mist. I sheathed the 「Dragon Sword」 and drew the Winter Steel blade Dwight had given me.
Then, the arena announcer’s voice boomed across the battlefield.
— You all saw that, didn’t you?! What a majestic presence! That was the very Guardian Dragon that fought alongside Han during the Conquest War! Though it lacked noble blood and hadn’t lived even a hundred years, it still gave the Conquest Army quite the bitter taste!
— And as some of you might know, our warrior, the 「Sword Demon」 Liam, wields the 「Dragon Sword」—a relic said to bear a legend! That the one who possesses the relic of the dragon can summon the true king!
The announcer’s voice burned with excitement.
— No one knows what that legend truly means, but who’s to say the other relics don’t hold mysteries of their own? Don’t you want them? These artifacts of divine legend, wielded by the valiant Sword Demon Liam himself—!
Apparently, he was trying to hype up prices for the relics’ auction once the War Duel ended.
It was almost funny hearing my name being used for advertisement.
But I had no time to care.
“There’s still too damn many of them.”
The Conquest Army’s numbers were still overwhelming—less an army and more a tidal wave. A natural disaster repeating itself endlessly.
I should save the remaining two summonings for more critical moments. The immediate crisis is over; I’ll use them later when we’re truly cornered.
Yes. Our job as defenders was not to annihilate them—just to hold.
— The Guardian Dragon performed brilliantly, but there are still countless enemies left! Can Han’s warriors hold the walls until the end of the day?! Remember, not even an hour has passed since the war began!
Twenty-three hours remained.
It already felt like days.
— And now, dear spectators, which warrior will you bet on? Throw your gold to the side you believe in! Place your fortune on their victory—it’ll make the show that much sweeter!
The announcer laughed like a jester while men clashed steel to steel.
Amid the re-enactment of an ancient war, spectators cheered and gambled from their seats.
For a moment, anger flared within me—but I swallowed it. Instead, I looked to what truly mattered.
The enemy before me.
The sword in my hand.
That was all.
「Go forth, young descendant.」
***
I saw it—the “Path” slicing through the mass of bodies.
Following that path, I swung my sword. Each strike scattered blood and claimed a life. For every one I felled, two more came charging in. From a thrust, I shifted into a slash; when my movement threatened to stop, I spun, scattering arcs of steel in all directions. The techniques I’d mastered so far appeared one by one, carving through the foes before me.
What truly helped me in this chaos was 「Fang」. Amid the flood of enemies, the Assassin of the Free City had once taught me how to vanish within presence itself.
I stripped a fallen Conquest soldier of his uniform and wrapped it around myself.
Smearing blood across my face, I erased my presence. Revealing myself, then hiding again—it confused them, made them think I’d disappeared and reappeared like a phantom.
In the midst of this noisy battlefield, I moved with the steps of an assassin and struck with the sword of a knight.
A mercenary’s ambush took several lives; surrounded, I borrowed the whirlwind strikes of a Ronin.
Through the unbroken path—my path to survival—I moved without stopping. My blade drank deep of life after life, until my stamina began to wane. My breathing turned shallow, my vision blurred. Even a heart of steel couldn’t grant infinite endurance.
Moments of dazed emptiness came over me. Every time my awareness flickered, an enemy’s blade came my way. I barely managed to dodge, though cuts began to gather across my body. Small wounds, but they added up.
A thought crept in—what if I died here, to a stray sword or arrow?
Battle lust and resolve could not burn forever. A strange drowsiness began to settle in.
Was I still fighting… or drowning underwater?
The din of battle faded to a dull hum.
War was quieter than I’d imagined…
“Sword Demon! Snap out of it!”
A powerful blow struck me, sending my body flying. The shock jolted me back to my senses.
The muffled hum became sharp again—clashing steel, cheers, screams, the crunch of bone and flesh. I staggered to my feet. My chest throbbed in pain; cracks ran through my mithril breastplate.
I looked ahead—and saw her.
Valkyrie Maia, wings spread wide.
“Do not fall into the lethargy of war! Even when you tire, even when your body weakens, fix your eyes forward! When Death calls your name—shout that today is not the day!”
She fought like a dancer—graceful, lethal.
「Well? Young descendant—war is not so different from those knightly tales you read, is it?」
Liam’s voice came, calm as ever.
「This is war.」
“……”
「It always begins with noble cause—but once thrown into its depths, soldiers forget everything. Conviction, victory, the ideal of the sword—all of it fades. What remains is the question: Why am I here? What meaning does this have?」
Blood spattered. Valkyrie Maia roared like a beast.
「After enduring endless meaninglessness, longing takes its place. You start wishing to return home—to warmth, to family, to rest before a gentle fire. Foolish, useless thoughts.」
Her wings gleamed. A long spear pierced through an enemy’s skull. Another warrior charged beside her, pushing the Conquest Army back.
「Perhaps your vengeance will be like this war, young descendant. Rage and vengeance burn bright—but they are fleeting flames. When all is consumed, only emptiness remains, like the numbness you just felt.」
“……”
「You may regret it one day—that you should never have begun this path. That instead of giving yourself to fury, you should have lived for something greater. Such thoughts may come to torment you.」
All around us, warriors fought.
「But even so—once you’ve taken up the sword, once you’ve chosen to advance—there is no turning back.」
“……”
「The only path left is forward. The only place left to go… is above.」
My heart thundered.
「So grasp your sword, young descendant. As you always have.」
The heartbeat pumped power through my body. The second pulse of the Mana Heart awakened strength beyond mortal limits, sharpening my blade anew.
I had to move forward.
The place I could return to was long gone.
My destination lay ahead—above.
Then, I saw her.
Across the chaos, a lone woman moved with quiet grace. Her sword did not belong to war. The sound it made was calm, yet it resonated through the noise of battle—clear, serene, beautiful.
Her swordlight gleamed like a cold star, captivating all who saw it.
I knew that sword.
That beauty.
The genius.
The Black Bride—Seol Yoon.
Through the slit of my helmet, our eyes met. For a moment, the world stopped.
Since I had met her, I had never seen her make that face.
Her eyes looked… unbearably sad.
Truly, achingly so.
***
「Time remaining until War Duel ends: 21:47:13」