Sword Devouring Swordmaster-Chapter 84 : Chapter 84

Chapter 84 — The Light (3)
How insignificant a single person was.
I had known that since the day the terrible era of war began. When countless youths—bright and pure as stars—died for their pitiful ideals and meaningless causes, I lamented.
Swords, spears, shields.
Brilliant lives were shattered beneath falling arrows.
The scribes recorded their deaths with hurried strokes of ink.
A handful of wheat, a moldy piece of bread—those were the prices of their lives.
When the young men drowned in their own blood and there was no one left to fight, even the women and children were dragged into war.
Children who once swung sticks in play now held blood-stained weapons and died on muddy ground.
Children, enraged by their parents’ deaths, picked up swords and spears to kill other children.
Old fathers and mothers, mad with grief, dragged their broken bodies to the battlefield.
Among all those countless deaths, there was no glory, no noble duel, not even honor.
For what did they die? For what did they live? For what did they kill? What did the swords, spears, and shields—those that scattered all that blood—leave behind? Even now, I could not answer.
“Cough—”
Vanfleet, the golden-haired youth who once sang of love, died at seventeen, struck by a stray arrow. He had a beautiful voice. He once told me, shyly, that he would confess to the red-haired girl he fancied once the war was over.
“Guh—”
Emily, a nine-year-old girl who always shared her share of wheat with others, killed two younger children before taking her own life.
She once smiled brightly, saying she wanted to taste the Empire’s sweet dessert—cake—someday. Instead of strawberry jam, she died with foaming blood filling her mouth, her eyes wide open.
“...Khah, keh—”
The light of countless stars faded. They never had a chance to shine—swallowed by the thick darkness, erased from the world.
I could not accept this era. I could not accept the end of those swept away by it—the young who died too soon, the children who once shone, the elders who smiled kindly. I could not accept such an unreasonable outcome. I could not accept the answer this world offered me.
Those who should have shone became mere parts of the war machine.
The stars with dreams had their wills stripped away and were thrown like blades.
They shattered in their struggle against others thrown the same way. And so, none of them remained.
“Enough.”
That was why I longed for the Age of Stars. I longed for that age—not this dreadful one where the bright kept disappearing—but a time when they laughed together, singing of love and peace.
“...Please, stop.”
Even with lofty beliefs, I was only a single man.
The blade I wielded could not change the world.
I could not even repel a mere army of men, much less alter the world itself. For an individual it was too insignificant. To halt an era of madness—one person was far too small.
I was small. I had resolved to fight, to sing of fury against the invading legions who trampled our land, but my struggle meant nothing.
The enemy’s numbers did not dwindle.
I did not achieve any grand feat. I merely cut down a few worthless soldiers, suffered fatal wounds, and could no longer swing my sword. Just like countless other young men of this warring age.
Now, they would march on—Into our lands—And extinguish the stars—And stain everything with war.
“For what do you fight so desperately?” The man who seemed to command the great army asked me.
I saw myself reflected in his eyes—A blood-soaked, mangled body. Limbs torn apart, hands so ruined I could not even hold a stick, let alone a sword.
Yes. My life was fading away, like so many others.
“You know it, don’t you? No matter how hard you fight, nothing will change.”
“...Cough.”
“This world’s gone mad. In this age of frenzy, we’ve all come too far. Kill or be killed—there’s nothing left to choose.”
The man’s face looked heavy with sorrow. So did the countless soldiers standing behind him.
This was the truth behind the so-called ‘Glorious Age’ the lords and rulers sang of—A dreadful time where no one could smile, a world where all value had turned to ash.
“Even if you burn yourself to ashes for some reason, you’ll change nothing. Everyone will still pick up their swords and spears—and in the end, everyone will be the same. Those pure ones you tried to protect will be tainted by war, and in the end, all will return to dust. By the blade’s edge.”
“...”
“Accept it. Everything will disappear. The Nine Goddesses and the Seven Lords have decreed this world’s end—to reclaim this beautiful land from the seven foolish, greedy races.”
I slowly looked at the general.
“Perhaps... you’re right.”
“...”
“But I cannot stand by and watch the beautiful ones vanish like dying stars. I still remember a world full of beautiful humans—a world shining like a sky of stars, peaceful and bright.”
“...”
“A time when we did not live for war. When each burned themselves for the things they loved, for what they desired. A time when no one mocked those who struggled to shine—when all clapped and cheered for them. When we sat around campfires at night, singing songs of peace and love.”
My world trembled. But I did not fall.
“The stars will not disappear.”
“...”
“Ah... how happy we were in that age, when we could gaze upon the starlit sky, read the map of roads that led us onward, and walk that path. How happy we were when the starlight illuminated our way.”
I staggered, but I did not break. Never.
“You may trample us, burn our lands—but even so, our will shall not vanish. Even so, the flame I have kindled will not die. And the light of the stars will not fade.”
“...”
“Even if I die here, the Age of Stars will not end.”
Still standing, I felt death slowly take me.
“Even if I fade here, someone else will inherit the flame. He will once more lead the lost from the front—as the light that guides them.”
With those words, I died. And then—
“...Ah.”
When I opened my eyes, I was a faint, muddled wraith. A soul without flesh, unable to leave this world for the gods. Before me stood a small boy wearing royal robes—his eyes shining like stars.
“F-founder... I bow before you.”
The boy looked so much like me.
.
.
.
“Haa—”
I opened my eyes and exhaled the breath I’d been holding. The air that left my lips burned like a flame.
The world before me grew clearer—sharper.
‘Keep control.’
The absorption of 「The Light」 was still incomplete. I ignored the flood of sword memories that surged through my mind and focused on the reality before my eyes.
Beyond the vivid world, a black fighter appeared. A threatening 「Road」 unfolded, and I drove my sword into its path.
And then—
“...!”
The fighter lunged—but twisted away from my sword at the last instant.
Too fast. Too unnatural. Yes—
「Hmm.」
That was no human movement.
「A Beastkin, that one.」
The intruder crouched low, both hands and feet touching the floor—moving like a beast on all fours.
***
Beastkin. Beasts evolved into humanoid forms under the influence of Mana. They inherited both the appearance and the traits of the animals from which they descended. Thus, when fighting a Beastkin, the first and foremost task was to identify their species.
‘But right now, that’s impossible.’
In the 「Infinite Duel」, the combat gear hid not only the face and body shape, but all defining traits—everything covered in pitch black. So there wasn’t much I could deduce.
‘A quadrupedal stance... Doesn’t seem to use weapons. A Monk-type, maybe? That’ll be annoying.’
All Beastkin shared explosive physical power—their natural strength rivaled that of Monsters.
But their true weapon wasn’t their bodies.
「If he’s a martial artist type, that’s the worst matchup.」
Their roots were beasts. Thus, among the Seven Races, Beastkin possessed unparalleled battle instinct. And more than that—they had eyes that could see the 「Paths of Blood」. A special ability granted to them alone. Though little was known about it, people defined the ability as such:
「Those beasts... they’ll always find a way to survive, even if the sky falls.」
“...”
I aimed my sword at him and stood still. No need to move first. He stayed still too. And so, two fighters faced off—motionless.
A suffocating tension, boring to spectators but unbearable to those within it.
That stalemate broke when an outsider intruded.
“What the—why’re there two of you—?”
Creak. The door opened.
Another fighter entered, saw us locked in a standoff, and immediately drew his weapon—a massive axe. A brutal weapon, but poor choice indoors.
‘Damn it.’
His arrival put me at the disadvantage.
The Beastkin had come through the window. I’d been near the door. So I was now trapped between two opponents.
“Tch—”
I clicked my tongue, abandoned 「The Light」, and drew another sword. That blade wasn’t ideal for fighting multiple enemies. Fortunately, I had another weapon perfectly suited for this kind of mess.
『I was but a single gust of wind.』
I crouched low, swept my sword across the floor, and spun once. The surrounding 「Paths」 began to twist and writhe. The power to distort all flows—that was the mystery of 「Gale」.
“Perfect—”
The intruder swung his axe at me. Normally, an axe couldn’t reach full power in a cramped room. There simply wasn’t enough space. But he didn’t care. He wasn’t stupid—just that strong.
「If brute force doesn’t work, maybe you just don’t have enough brute force.」
He had plenty of it.
‘Shit—’
With a crack, the axe blade split through the wall and came for my head.
I slashed through the air—and the tiny whirlwinds I’d stirred became a roaring 「Gale」.
“...?”
The violent wind howled. The axe’s trajectory twisted skyward, smashing into the ceiling instead. Dust and splinters rained down. Before they hit the floor, the Beastkin moved.
“Huu—”
I inhaled, restoring a bit of Mana.「Gale」 demanded a ridiculous amount. If my Mana Heart didn’t possess the properties of steel, my heart would’ve exploded long ago.
Fighting the dizziness, I summoned another burst of wind.
The path the Beastkin was charging along curved downward—
“-?!”
A whirlwind struck. The next instant, his head slammed into the floor. As one fell still, I turned toward the axe-wielder rushing me.
“This bastard’s using weird pow—”
Another gale. Again, his axe flew astray. While he cursed, I vaulted over him. But I didn’t attack from behind.
Why?
‘Why make it easy for him?’
He was more useful alive. Now he was between me and the Beastkin. Which meant—
“───!”
I could shove the Beastkin away while the brute distracted him.
‘If he holds out even briefly, I can reposition. No need to waste time here—there are still plenty of enemies left, and the perimeter’s not closed yet...’
I moved to act—efficient, rational. But there was one thing I hadn’t considered.
“Cheap tricks won’t—urk!”
The Beastkin’s raw strength.
“...”
Thud.
The sound came a split second before blood splattered.
The Beastkin drove his hand clean through the axe fighter’s chest. Bone and flesh broke like wet clay. The sound repeated—rhythmic, resonant, horrifying, almost musical. Then—Blood and flesh sprayed before me, along with shattered armor and fragments of a black helm.
「Heh.」
This wasn’t a fight between equals. It was—
「This one’s dangerous.」
Like a man meeting a predator in the woods. I remembered an old hunter’s story—of a bear that tore men apart and scattered them like twigs.
‘Shit.’
The blood-soaked Beastkin looked at me. Still crouched on all fours, animalistic. My skin crawled as I raised my sword.
Taptap.
The sound of feet striking the floor—then he vanished from sight. The next instant, he was above me. From floor to ceiling, ceiling to floor—moving as if teleporting. Just as I had done.
‘He learned that fast? Not even a smart dog picks things up that quick...’
I swung my sword up—but too late.
Crack.
My body jolted violently. His foot struck my chest—not just a kick, but a hammerblow. Blood filled my mouth, vision swaying.
I slashed blindly—but again, too slow. After landing the hit, he dropped low, spinning on his hands and sweeping his foot across the floor. Targeting—my ankle.
“Shit—”
Crunch.
My ankle snapped. I lost balance, lifted into the air—and in that instant, he attacked again. Hands on the floor, body inverted like a handstand—a kick rising from below to above.
I’d never seen anything like it—instinctive, free, relentless violence.
That strike aimed for my jaw. My instincts screamed—if that lands, it’s over. If the impact reached my chin, I’d lose consciousness. And even if I didn’t, the blow would lift my helm, expose my neck—and then I’d be finished.
I bit my lip and drew in a breath.
Then, I held it.
“—Hup!”
That was the only way to survive.
***
The Dragon Sword. Its true name: 「The Light」.
The royal treasure that housed the soul of the founder of the fallen peninsula. Its former wielder was not mighty. Even though he reached the realm of the 「Sword Runner」, in the age of war, ‘wings’ were nothing special. Thus, the man who longed for the stars died powerless.
「Grip it tight—never let go.」
But his will, his hero’s conviction, never vanished.
The final sword he swung remained burned into the eyes and hearts of all who saw it—even into the hearts of the invading legion of Han.
“...!”
The power to burn all one has, to blaze for a fleeting instant—that was the mystery sealed within 「The Light」. A sword that sacrifices all for what one holds dear.
「You remember, don’t you? Never inhale more than ‘a single handful of breath’.」
The mystery of 「The Light」 was simple and absolute—it burned away all the Mana within one’s body, breaking through all limits for a moment.
That power could be applied anywhere—to one’s eyes, to perceive; to one’s legs, to reach;
to one’s arms, to cut beyond one’s strength.
The problem was, for me, that power wasn’t meant to be used.
「Do not lose yourself in the sword’s memories. You have no wings.」
Originally, 「The Light」 demanded wings as sacrifice—for wings were both the mark of a Sword Runner and a construct of pure Mana. Its former master offered up his wings again and again, wielding the sword beyond human limit.
But I had no wings. If I used 「The Light」, I would burn every vein of Mana in my body and every drop in my Mana Heart—essentially becoming a corpse for a time. Even so—it could only be swung once. But—
‘Damn, this is hard.’
There’s always a trick to everything.
「Yes. Endure it, just like that.」
Why did I train myself to inhale only a single handful of breath, to hold it until the brink?
My Mana Heart could hold far more—but a handful wasn’t enough for its full strength. Even so, I forced myself to limit it.
The reason was simple. Without wings, I couldn’t control 「The Light」’s mystery. It always burned all of my Mana.
No exceptions.
So I changed my perspective. If it always consumed everything...then I’d simply make sure there wasn’t much to consume.
If I couldn’t make the flame smaller— then I’d limit the fuel itself.
“Hup!”
The handful of Mana trapped in my body ignited.
Just one handful—but that was enough.
More than enough.
My body felt like it was on fire—my vision expanded, everything slowing down. Dust, debris, even the Beastkin’s feet—all moving in slow motion.
The 「Paths」 spread like veins from my second heart, circulating, burning, surging through muscle and bone.
My whole body blazed, and that fire gathered in my right hand.
As the mystery manifested, I let go of the sword I held in both hands—and instead drew the short dagger strapped to my thigh.
The small blade I carried for using 「Fang」—too light to pierce armor unless properly weighted.
The Beastkin twitched the instant he saw me discard my sword and draw the dagger.
He shouldn’t have reacted. At this range, a dagger couldn’t possibly pierce steel. To abandon one’s sword for such a weapon was senseless—by all logic, a futile struggle. But the Beastkin backed away—breaking his stance, abandoning his advantage.
That must’ve been his special ability
—the 「Path of Blood」. Whatever he saw through it, the danger was clear enough to make him flinch.
Well—
『Even if all turns to ash, it doesn’t matter.』
『My worthless body and soul—I can burn them as many times as it takes.』
Too late for him anyway.
『As many times as it takes.』
The dagger traced a curve—Shhk! Blood sprayed.
The Beastkin, twisting away, crouched near the window, glaring at me. My hand dripped hot blood. I shook it off and looked down.
“...You’re good at running, I’ll give you that.”
On the floor lay his severed left leg—cut cleanly from his body.
***
「Designation: The Light」
「Royal treasure housing the founder of Han.」
「Contains the Mystery of Combustion.」
「- Burns all Mana within the body to transcend one’s limit.」
「- If wielder is a Sword Runner, one pair of wings is consumed per use.」
.
.
.
「Assimilation in progress.」