Sword Devouring Swordmaster

Translator: AkazaTL

Pr/Ed: Sol IX

***

Chapter 150 — Oz (2)

“The flow of the continent is taking a strange turn.”

“They say many have died. Among the western continent’s city-states, countless ones have gone beyond small disputes into full-scale war. Some lands have already become lawless zones after losing their rulers.”

“The seed Ian Cherville sowed has sprouted. Like the strong flapping of a butterfly’s wings becoming a storm on the other side of the continent.”

“Every being across the vast continent is waging war under different banners. Between races, between nations, even between faiths. They all claim it’s for their beliefs — but in truth, it’s for profit. Everyone knows it, don’t they? War is horrific, but it brings great rewards.”

“Ian Cherville, the King of the Iron Kingdom, threw the spark. The continent may be wide, but its land is finite. The Six Free Cities — the most fertile and precious lands — fell into the Iron Kingdom’s hands far too easily. Naturally, the other nations’ greed would ignite. Truth be told, even our own Empire had its eyes on them, if not for that old covenant promising never to break eternal peace…”

“It was bound to happen someday. The order of the heavens our Empire built could not last forever. This chaos will not end here. Across the vast continent, there remain countless fertile lands — especially in the southern nations, still undeveloped and lacking proper armies. Seeing the Iron Kingdom’s advance, the other great powers will crave the same. Rather than stand idle and lose all to others, they’ll rush to plant their banners first — even if condemned for it. All to possess more.”

“An age of conquest, then. Next will come an age of colonies. Nations will wage war to claim as many colonies as possible. Countless countries will arise, erasing the will of primitive lands, forcing them to produce only for their conquerors. Dishonorable, yes — but soon it will be considered foolish not to do so.”

“There will be endless conflict. Forced conscription will spark revolts, coups will give rise to tyrants, and the distrustful will band together with those who share some trivial commonality. Perhaps racial nationalism will return — an age of hatred that cruelly discriminates, tears apart, and excludes all who differ.”

“This time it will be worse. Even within a single nation, people will fragment endlessly. Ideologies harsher than racism will arise. Those of the same race will group together; within them, religion will split them again. They’ll divide further by city, family, even what academy they attended. Countless factions will be born, and all will turn aggressive.”

“Even within small villages, factions will split. And once they do, they’ll stop doing anything productive and instead spend all day tearing one another apart. Instead of farming, they’ll slander others, seek applause, and plot to seize each other’s wealth. The great alliance may crumble. The balance among the seven races, achieved after the Age of War, may once again be broken.”

“A world where right and wrong no longer matter — only guilt or innocence. Everyone prattles about politics or belief with shallow knowledge, yet none farming. Then, once again, kings and nobles will seek war.”

“Indeed. What unites divided people better than war? War even forces productivity upward. If victorious, one can enslave entire nations — erase their will and use them wholly.”

“Wars will start division, and division will be quelled by war, then temporary unions will fragment again… the same process will repeat endlessly. Endless war, endless death, gold and glory reserved for the few.”

“The same pattern as before. As the sages said: ‘A people who forget their history have no future; history repeats itself.’ The age when swords, spears, and shields defined right and wrong — that Age of War is returning, darker and more blood-soaked than ever.”

“Then the conclusion is, as always, the same.”

At that word, the eight sages, heads together around a round table flooded with light, looked up. The Round Table, beneath the highest heavens of the greatest empire — Velma, the Grand Empire known as the Sky Empire. At its peak sat the Emperor.

“Sages, have you reached a decision?”

“Yes, O Greatest Sky.”

“Speak.”

A sage bowed deeply.

“The Empire will not join the wars. Instead, we shall wage a different war — one fought on the opposite side of the battlefield. A war where we shed no blood, yet claim all the gold and glory.”

“Oh? Is that possible?”

“For the Empire, it is. Since the last Age of War, the Sky Empire — the greatest power on the continent, protector of all order and might — has never known defeat. It can be done.”

The Emperor tilted his head slightly.

The sage continued.

“War is a dreadful thing. Much blood will be spilled. But as history proves, those who bleed are the defeated. Death and reward always come hand in hand. And—”

“—We are not the ones who bleed, but the ones who hold the gold.”

The Emperor’s words drew nods from all eight sages. He was not lesser than them — a man of the holiest bloodline on the continent. No word suited him better than “sky.” At least, none of the sages knew.

“Crisis is another word for opportunity. The Empire has more than enough power to turn crisis into gain. Just as we did when the last Age of War arrived.”

The Age of War — the bloodiest in all history, the darkest of ages. Yet paradoxically, the Sky Empire had gained brilliance from it. The Velma Empire had ascended then, reborn as the Grand Empire — the Sky Empire.

“After the Age of War, the Velma Empire became the Sky Empire and grew into the continent’s supreme superpower. Once debtors to the Black Archipelago, we seized all Central Continent lands, uniting the smaller kingdoms under one banner. After the war, the Empire that had once bowed became the greatest creditor nation. All nations and races looked up to us — the heavens themselves.”

A sage spoke again.

“The greatest business is war, O Great Sky. In the second Age of War soon to come, the Sky Empire shall know unrivaled prosperity.”

“I understand… but tell me,”

“Are you concerned?”

“Is there any guarantee this growing vortex will not harm the Empire?”

“There will be none. All wars are dressed in pretense, but their essence is glory and victory. What nation or alliance would dare knock on the Sky Empire’s gates? They’ll not provoke us — they’ll pray the sleeping giant never wakes.”

The logic was sound. Yet there was one thing the sages did not know.

“Greed is the strongest emotion of all. Surely, among the continent’s rulers, there are none so mad as to seek only ruin, death, and war for war’s sake. No true madmen exist — perhaps pretenders, but not real ones thirsting purely for blood.”

But war itself was never born of reason. And the one who had first sparked this chaos — the monarch seated upon the Iron Throne, crowned with his father’s blood — was not a man of reason. Not in the slightest.

Thus— The sages had no inkling what kind of future Ian Cherville dreamed of.

***

The Grand Empire Velma — the Sky Empire — housed countless cities. Each was so vast it could hardly be called a mere city, for most had once been nations themselves. The Empire was, at its core, a coalition bound under the creed of “many united as one.”

Among them, the city called Oz, known as the Magic City, was built by countless magical beings of the central continent: spiritists, mages, shamans from the Great Forest — essentially, all beings of the spiritual world within the Empire gathered here.

“Oh…”

It hadn’t taken long to reach the Magic City from the Sky Mountains. Getting to the Empire’s border took time, but once within, travel between its cities was effortless — for every city, including the capital, was linked by gates.

“It feels like I’ve stepped into another world.”

That was my first impression of the Magic City Oz.

Another world. Compared to the Iron Kingdom, this was a true new world. Towering skyscrapers reached for the sky, and the streets bustled not with carriages but strange steel contraptions. Even above, metal vessels roared through the air. What in the world…?

“It’s understandable,” Sherizik said.

“Is it just me being a country bumpkin?”

“No. The difference between the Sky Empire and other lands is so vast that every foreigner reacts the same way.”

Sherizik didn’t tease me — a perfect companion indeed. If Audrey or Seol Yoon were here, they would’ve mocked me mercilessly for acting like a rustic. Smiling gently — in her own murderous way — Sherizik led the way.

“The airships are one of the Sky Empire’s prides. They say they were based on inventions by twin inventors once called the Wright Brothers. In the Eastern Continent, they’re called Iron Birds.”

The Wright Brothers — that was what the old adventurer, the former owner of 「Flight」, had called his twin grandsons. Somehow, pride swelled in me. It felt good knowing his final act had not been in vain — that his end had left something behind in the world. I followed Sherizik, quietly taking in the sights.

“As I felt in the Cloud Garden, the people here live in peace. It’s been two months since, yet they remain the same. I heard the world outside has turned chaotic.”

“That’s the Sky Empire’s nature. The citizens of Velma always live without worry. They take pride in being subjects of the Empire and in believing their nation is the continent’s center. Whatever happens in the world, they never feel fear. They’re convinced their daily lives will never change.”

Sherizik said that while wars raged across the lands, anxiety blanketed entire nations — yet here? The streets overflowed with people. Lovers and families dined in restaurants. Bards performed music in the plazas; couples kissed; patrons lined up for drinks. Watching this paradise of melody and joy stirred a strange feeling in me — and faintly, a voice whispered through my mind.

『You often spoke of your city. It was always a city of peace and love. Perhaps your tender nature was born from that city filled with love. My own life, like the wind, began in a homeland of blood and dust.』

The Ronin, memories of the warrior of 「Gale」. As I walked through the city connected to the mage he had loved, faint traces of his memories stirred within me. I could feel a wistful ache for a love I had never experienced.

『That city must have been as lovely and precious as you. Someday, I wished to take your hand, become the storm, and leave this bloodstained wasteland — to walk its streets with you.』

『Of course, it was only a dream — a fleeting dream that would soon vanish.』

Ronin's emotions were calm yet lingering, like still water with depth. As I followed Sherizik, those feelings shimmered within me like smoke. Feeling the faint stir of 「Gale」’s power, I couldn’t shake the sense that something in this city was calling to me.

“Sightseeing is nice, but let’s move.”

“Ah, yes.”

It almost felt as though… I was about to meet someone fate.

***

“Lady Audrey told you to just say her name, but that’s not actually wise. There are factions here — and many dislike Witches. So we’ll have to approach a friendly faction first.”

“Good thing you came. I’d have been doomed alone.”

“She probably assumed you knew such basics. Witches tend to speak that way — they think everyone knows what they know. They’re only nice when mocking or criticizing others.”

“Wholeheartedly agree.”

Sherizik’s footsteps halted.

“We’re here. If we ask them, we’ll be able to meet the Witches.”

“Oh, this is a pro-Witch faction?”

“No. The opposite, actually — they’re hostile.”

“…Excuse me?”

“But they’re hostile to everyone. The only ones they treat kindly are members of their own group. Quite egalitarian, really. They even fight each other dozens of times a day. A most admirable kin.”

“Kin…?”

I hoped I’d misheard. Please, let it be a slip of the tongue.

But of course— our admirable Sherizik never misspoke.

“They’re my father’s friends. They’ll surely help us. There’s no race more trustworthy than Orcs. Reliable, easy to ask favors of, and always eager to lend a hand to those in need.”

“Everything you just said… sounds nothing like Orcs.”

“Going in!”

Bang!

The door to an ordinary, shabby-looking building burst open. Inside was far from ordinary — spacious, ornate, lit by radiant lamps. Within that stately hall swarmed green-skinned masses, baring tusks and wearing barely a scrap of clothing.

“Chrrrk! Chrrk!”

Ah. That familiar breathing. It almost brought tears to my eyes.

“A—an incredible beauty! Chrrrk!”

Yeah. I already wanted to leave.