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Eris. That was her name.
She walked like a wild animal. Back hunched over the snow-cleared trail, glaring at anyone who got too close.
"So. She beat you."
I glanced at Nina. Standing next to me, the girl was slightly taller.
We watched from the doorway of the central dojo as Eris crept away. It was still early morning. The sun arched over the horizon.
Two days had passed since her arrival, and she was still the only thing people talked about.
"I disarmed her instantly," I said. "I was faster with my swing, but she didn't stop moving. I wasn't expecting it."
That red-haired girl moved away from us. I couldn't tell where she was going. Maybe she was looking for her teacher, Ghislaine?
"I don't like her." Nina said.
"Hmm."
I made up my mind.
I started walking.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"I need to talk to her." It had taken two whole days to work up the confidence. Those two days were confusing- I didn't often feel such anxiety. I thought this world had stripped that away.
Nina didn't follow.
It took me a minute to catch up to Eris. Still, I couldn't tell where she was walking. She had her large, thick sword sheathed at her side. She was on a path out from the center of town, towards the forest.
As soon as I got close, she froze. I stopped walking. She turned around.
It was hard to open my mouth with her looking at me. Sweat dripped down my forehead, despite the early morning chill. It was her eyes. They felt like daggers at my throat.
"You." Her voice left her mouth. It was not a friendly tone.
-I did break her arm, and her wrist, two nights ago.
Despite that, she wasn't wearing a splint or wrappings. She must have already healed; her Battle Aura was certainly strong enough to help her.
"Hi." I said.
She didn't respond. She was still glaring at me. Her hand was slowly creeping down to her side, to her sword.
I raised both hands, palms flat. I was talking down a wild beast.
"I don't want to fight. I just want to talk."
She grunted.
Then she turned and kept walking.
"..."
I followed.
"Can I ask you some questions? Eris?"
She didn't look at me.
"No."
"Just one or two. It'll take a minute, then I'll leave you alone."
I was surprised by my initiative. The words formed without me spending any thought.
"Go away."
"Really, it'll only-"
I heard the wet ring of sharpened steel on leather. Her sword gleamed, halfway out of its sheath.
She turned to look at me again. Her eyes glinted like rubies- deadly, murderous rubies.
"Go. Away."
My eyes were on the sword.
Chills broke out across my body at the sound. -I hadn't often felt this kind of bloodlust directed at me. Maybe the time my father had dueled me, when I became a Sword Saint. But that was even less than this.
I could feel, all the way down to the bone, that she would kill me if I didn't back off.
I was already in the bed of some terrible monster; a mouse in a tiger's den.
And for some reason, I was smiling.
My hand fell to the sword sheathed at my own side. My fingers reached across the pommel.
"Just one question." The words left my mouth.
I saw a shadow in those eyes.
It was the same shadow I had seen the moment before she attacked Nina, two nights before. A beast's shadow.
I barely drew my sword in time to stop her attack.
The sound of steel smashing against steel echoed through the air, over the snowy hills around us. The town, below, at my back. The dark forest behind her.
The pressure sent shivers racing down my fingers.
My knuckles were white, clenching against the grip; my arms already burning as she pushed against me.
Suddenly, all her strength fell away.
My eyes were on her. If I hadn't been watching so closely, I might have fallen for the trap.
I stepped back. Her leg flashed out, nearly taking my feet out from under me.
She moved without a drop of hesitation in her body.
I stabbed for her, angling the sword down, straight to her shoulder. I would spear her through-
She disappeared.
I blinked.
A slam against the side of my head.
Darkness, again.
. . . . . . . .
I opened my eyes to the clear blue sky above me, and dampness on my back.
For one second, maybe two, I felt calm. I wondered what I was doing, laying on my back, in the snow.
Then the pain arrived.
I groaned.
My hand came up, grazing the side of my head. I winced as I felt the bruise forming across my face.
That's right. I was dueling her- Eris. What happened?
I played through the memories.
She just disappeared, for that last moment. I thought I had her- she overextended, trying to trip me with a kick. I was about to catch her…
She dropped all her weight, hitting the ground like a dead body. It let her vanish from my line of sight. Then she got me with the flat of her blade- right in the side of the head.
Yes. That was what happened. She was so quick with each movement, it looked like teleportation, like magic, in the moment.
What was that technique? I had never seen anything like it- something that used the entire body in such a manner. It was more of a martial arts technique than swordplay.
She used each body part like a weapon, not just focusing on her sword. I had never seen that kind of style before- I was caught off-guard.
Next time, I would get her.
"Jino."
I looked up from my spot in the snow.
My father stood over me.
"...Ah."
. . . . . . . .
A training sword landed in my empty hands.
I stood in a training yard beside the central dojo. The sun still rested low in the sky- I must not have been out for too long.
My father stepped into sight.
"I have found that practice swings help calm the mind, when up against a pressing problem."
I nodded at the unspoken command.
I raised the practice sword into the air, into high guard just above my head. I held it for one second. I breathed in, deep, down to the bottom of my toes and the ends of my fingertips.
I swung the sword down.
Air cracked behind the tip of the wooden blade.
"Again."
I nodded, again.
I raised the sword, again. I held it for one second. I breathed in.
I swung the sword.
And again, the air cracked.
But my father shook his head.
"Do you see? How much slower your second swing is?"
I looked at him, and he sighed.
"Clearly not." He gripped his own training blade, a simple wooden rod. "-You need to put the same amount of focus behind each swing- your entire focus behind each swing."
I frowned.
"Father, I usually-"
"-So what if you've always done it well before?" He broke through my words. "What matters is that you are failing today. An enemy does not care if you are having an 'off day'. All they care about is winning. That is all they want."
He raised an eyebrow at the end of the statement. There was something I was supposed to say in response.
…The words leaped out at me, for some reason. They felt familiar.
"Like Eris?" I asked.
"Yes. Like that girl."
My lips curved downwards. The bruise on the side of my face stung.
He kept on speaking.
"You're distracted. Obviously, that is what's slowing you down. Because you've never been in this situation before."
"-This situation?"
"You've never been put up against an enemy, right in front of you, that you couldn't defeat."
I felt the training sword in my hands. Today, it felt unusually light.
"Father?"
"-Keep going. Yes?"
I raised the sword above my head. I could barely do it- swinging and speaking at the same time. To put your entire focus behind the motion while following a conversation…
"Who is the Dragon God Orsted?" I asked.
My fingertips were perfectly aligned, light on the grip. It was only wood, but I could feel the entire blade like a piece of my arm.
I breathed in.
I swung.
My father's voice reached me.
"The Dragon God is the second of the Seven Great World Powers. The second strongest being in this world."
My sword halted in place. It was parallel to the snow below me.
"...Is he stronger than the master? The Sword God?"
"Yes."
I closed my mouth.
"Is the master among those… Seven World Powers?"
"Yes. He is ranked sixth among them."
I breathed in, deep. The air raced across my body, along my veins, and between my ribs.
The world looked so much more vivid, then.
The snow was brighter against my eyes; the clouds, blots of paint around the sun. Everything rose to my senses. The lightness of air against my skin. The scent of nature against my nose.
And the sky, it seemed, did not have any ceiling.
Gal Farion, master of the Holy Land of the Sword, the Sword God himself, was not the strongest. He was not even in the top five.
"Don't stop swinging, Jino."
. . . . . . . .
I had become comfortable over the past twelve years.
It was a stable life. Everything laid out to some great plan. A sword handed to me at three years old, and a road of goalposts extended into the distance. At the end of that road was the Sword God.
Somewhere along the way, that pampered life had twisted me to arrogance. It made me think that maybe I could become the best.
When had I gotten so prideful? So empty-headed?
Eris wasn't prideful. She was the opposite- she saw everything as a threat. She didn't take anything for granted.
The girl hadn't said more than ten words to me, but I felt I knew her better than I knew myself.
I knew that she had lived a life full of danger and hardship. I knew that she had been pushed down into the mud and that she had gotten back up. I knew she was strong, not just as a duelist, but as a person.
Why did I decide to go this path, in the first place? Was it just because I was born here? Just because my father did it? Was it so simple?
It couldn't be. There was a reason I had been so fascinated by swords when I was born.
I liked looking at someone swinging a blade.
They were beautiful. They represented the crystalized effort of a person's life.
And now, they gave purpose to my own life.
. . . . . . . .
I found the Sword God sitting with his back against the wall of the central dojo. His eyes were closed. His chest rose, and fell, softly.
He had talked with Eris for an hour after she returned to the dojo. Now, he was resting his eyes. He often napped in the afternoons. A self-interested god.
"Master, Sword God."
He opened his eyes. Scars stretching across his face caught the light of the dojo.
"Jino? You don't often come to speak with me. What do you want?"
I hesitated for one moment. My hands clenched at my sides.
His eyes were so heavy. They all were- everyone strong. My father, Eris, and this man. Their eyes were so heavy.
"How can I become stronger?" I asked the Sword God.
"..."
He chuckled.
"This is Eris, isn't it?"
I nodded. Words choked.
"Then you should already know the answer to your question, huh?"
I looked at him.
"I always tell people to be rational, boy. That's how you'll get stronger, by taking the most rational approach. That, and by having the proper motivation. -But I think you're, actually, too rational."
"What do you mean, master?"
"You've been rationally training all your life, so how do you think Eris can beat you?"
"...She uses unorthodox techniques. Things I haven't encountered before."
"That's part of it." His eyes gleamed. A few other Saints, gathered in the central dojo, turned their heads to our conversation. "But you're still thinking too rationally. That's always been your problem. It makes sense- you're Timothy's son, and he trained you to be like him."
"Isn't my father strong?" I asked.
"Oh, he's good. But he'll never beat me."
I didn't have a response. I agreed with him, though. I could never picture my father striking down Gal Farion- I couldn't explain why, but that was the truth.
"He doesn't understand motivation." He continued, his voice rasping against me. "Do you know what swordsmanship is, at its core, Jino?"
I shook my head.
"It's not a rhetorical question." He said. "Come up with an answer. What is swordsmanship?"
The Sword God's eyes darkened as he stared at me. My mouth opened.
"It's art." I said.
He smiled again- that signature, shark-tooth smile.
"No. It's the answer."
"..."
"It's an answer to the most common question in the world; the question of killing."
The Sword God's voice echoed, ringing from side to side in my skull.
"-You ask yourself, what is the best way to kill the person in front of me?" He spoke softly. "And then you come up with your answer. 'I'll take this sword, and cut like this,' or 'I'll take the sword and defend myself like this,' or anything else."
"...I-"
He talked over me.
"What Eris does, while fighting, has shades of the North God style. It's mixed up- she's obviously learned through her travels and interactions with others. But it's her answer to the question."
I blinked, and the words he spoke ironed themselves into my memory. I wouldn't forget what he said, even if those words felt colorless.
"You need to find your answer, Jino."
His eyes cut into me like his own sword.
"Can you do that? Or will you end up like all these other Sword Saints, just as stagnant as them?"
I didn't have an answer.
But his stare fell on me one more time, against my skin. It forced my own eyes away. I couldn't help a bubble of frustration from rising in my chest.
The Sword God spoke again, but this time his voice was softer. He must have been trying to sound reassuring.
"You've been told, your whole life, that the Sword God Style is the perfect way to fight. Even though I'm the Sword God, I'm telling you it's not that simple. It's just the most efficient way- maybe not the best. -It's certainly not perfect."
His smile had already fallen.
"You're not a child anymore, Jino. It's time for you to understand that."
I didn't have an answer.
He closed his eyes. I took the dismissal and turned my back to him.
I passed the crowd of Sword Saints gathered around us. All those old men and grizzled veterans. All those who hadn't broken past the barrier- hadn't managed to become Sword Kings even after using up their entire lives.
I opened the doors and stepped out of the dojo.
It was a midwinter night. The snow sparkled beneath the light of the stars and the moon, beneath the torches that sputtered on either side of the door.
The air was not cold on my skin.
I breathed out softly.
I didn't have an answer.
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