Sword Devouring Swordmaster

Translator: AkazaTL

Pr/Ed: Sol IX

***

Chapter 151 – Oz (3)

The Magical City of Oz in the Sky Empire— a dreamlike place equipped with the Empire’s finest magitech, nearly indistinguishable from the “New World” itself.

Citizens of the Empire living here enjoyed comforts and experiences unimaginable elsewhere.

But to young Beven, an orc boy, the city of Oz was nothing short of boring.

“Chewk, chewk! I wanna go home!”

There were no plains to run across, no beasts to club to death, and he wasn’t even allowed to challenge anyone he met to a duel.

What kind of miserable place was this?! To Beven, a perfectly ordinary orc, this city might as well have been a prison.

An orc, after all, was meant to brawl ten times a day and run until his mouth filled with the taste of blood.

“Sniff… It’s so boring!”

But young Beven had been born with a shaman’s gift. The elder of his tribe, hoping for the boy’s future, entrusted him to the orc shamans living in Oz. They took him on as an apprentice—and that was why Beven’s days had become unbearably dull. These days, he felt like he might even catch that human sickness called “depression.”

He’d tried to escape more than once, but the orc shamans of this city were monstrous old men.

They would never let go of a young assistant who did all the chores and was a pleasure to teach.

So, during one of those hellish days, Beven was sweeping the floor when the door suddenly swung open.

A guest? In this green house where even crying children went silent?

Startled, Beven turned around, broom in hand—

‘Ah… she’s so cool.’

—and fell in love.

“There’s a young orc here, I see. Hello. Could you take me to your elders?”

No goddess among the Nine, not even the Goddess of Beauty herself, could have possessed such a face.

Blinded by her radiant splendor, Beven nodded dumbly. Her voice was refined—completely un-orcish—yet even that felt charming.

When human nobles spoke that way, it was disgusting, but when she did it… it was divine.

“Y-you old geezers, I’ll fetch them right away. Trust me! Beven, son of the Eternal Plains, w-will fulfill your request!”

“Thank you.”

“B-by the way, do you have a mate? Ah, no, of course you do! Sorry. D-do you perhaps need a slave? Or a pet? I—I’ve fallen for you! I-it’s our first meeting, but you’re beautiful!”

“I’ve heard that far too often. Spare me the stale compliments and show me the way, will you?”

“O-of course! S-sorry for the boring words.”

Damn it!

He normally spoke just fine—why did his voice have to crack now?

Holding back tears, Beven marched ahead as proudly as he could.

The other orc shamans near the entrance—creatures who cared for nothing but rituals and knowledge—turned their heads toward her.

Even they couldn’t look away from this peerless beauty.

Beven bit back a grin.

For the first time, all those miserable days felt worth it. Maybe he’d been born just to witness this goddess for a moment. To speak to her even once—it was glory itself.

At that moment, Beven was the happiest orc alive.

***

“…How do orcs even see Lady Sherizik?”

“Well, the orcish sense of beauty is a bit… different. But my father once said that if I were born human, my beauty alone could have conquered the continent. He claimed even the Nine Goddesses would grow jealous. My father once met the Goddess of Beauty in the Spirit World—after seeing my face every day, he said the goddess felt rather plain in comparison. So, at least by orcish standards, I’m prettier than a goddess.”

“……”

Was that… true?

If it was, that was terrifying. Thank the heavens Sherizik had been born an orc.

A beauty surpassing a goddess? The world might not have survived.

‘And the orcs are this docile?’

Every orc I knew would start a duel the moment you met their gaze—and unless you crushed them completely, they’d never listen. But Sherizik’s beauty silenced all of them.

The shamans who normally ignored everyone were now pressed flat against the walls, parting to clear her path.

Some even wept with gratitude for her mere existence.

Apparently, this wasn’t new to her. Sherizik explained calmly that orcs often reacted like that when meeting her for the first time.

‘How the hell do they see her? …Actually, the longer I look, the more attractive she does seem… No, wait. What am I thinking? Have I been cursed already?’

Dizzied by the bizarre situation, we soon reached the deepest part of the shamans’ lair, guided by the lovestruck young orc.

“Right here!”

Beven proudly pointed to an old, filthy door that looked like it led somewhere no one should ever enter.

The air around it reeked; faint cobwebs and burn marks clung to its surface. It looked like the entrance to a haunted house.

“Touching that thing feels like it’d curse you.”

“That’s right! If anyone besides the old geezers touches it, they get cursed. A while ago, some shamans came here before me—touched the door by mistake—and their bodies rotted away in a second! Went straight to join their ancestors! They were pretty skilled too. Didn’t last a full second!”

“……”

…Comforting. Truly comforting.

“And don’t worry! Beven, son of the Eternal Plains, will call the old geezers to open it! I-I may look like a kid, but they respect me here! Just watch—when I shout, they’ll come runn—urk!”

BANG!

The old door flew open, slamming straight into Beven’s face.

The poor kid went tumbling backward, rolling across the floor until he hit the wall and passed out, tongue lolling.

Out of the dark doorway stepped a stooped, ancient orc.

“Quiet down, apprentice. Why do you make such a racket when we have guests?”

He walked out slowly, lifted his head, and looked at us.

“It’s been a long time, Daughter of the Stars—Sherizik.”

“Yes, it truly has, Elder.”

“Still using that weird, un-orcish way of speaking?”

The old orc chuckled.

“I thought maybe it would make the other orc men lose interest in me.”

“Hah! Impossible! Even if you were as old as me, marriage proposals would still flood in. Kekeke. Can’t believe such a lovely face came from that ugly father of yours.”

Laughing in his peculiar way, the elder patted Sherizik’s head, then turned his gaze toward me.

“So then—why have you brought the Heir of Steel before this old orc?”

***

Following the elder inside, I found four other aged orcs waiting. Each held a staff of a different color.

The first elder plopped himself down on a worn carpet and listened as we explained.

“You want us to act as a bridge—to reach the Witches.”

“Yes.”

“Not a difficult request. Normally, I wouldn’t waste words on those prattling women who think too highly of themselves—but for you, Sherizik, anything.”

“For our Sherizik, anything at all! Kekeke! I’d even risk scattering my soul to slay three or four of those Witch hags. Family is family!”

“Who’d have thought that ugly bastard Sherdik could have such a beautiful daughter? We practically raised her from a baby. Makes us her uncles, eh? Heheheh!”

Eccentric energy poured from all five old orcs.

After chatting with Sherizik, they turned their glowing, curious eyes toward me.

“But the star of today isn’t our beautiful Sherizik.”

“It’s the Heir of Steel.”

“Been ages since we’ve seen a descendant of Karavan.”

“We thought your line had vanished from the world.”

“Ha! The blood of steel doesn’t fade so easily!”

They snickered among themselves.

“Doesn’t look anything like him.”

“Nor does he carry his power.”

“If he did, we wouldn’t even be able to meet his eyes.”

“True! We’d have run for our lives by now.”

Then one of them gestured to me.

“Heir of Steel.”

“Yes?”

“How did you obtain that item—the one bearing the power of the Spirit King? Proud Gaia wouldn’t have granted her blessing to a Karavan descendant. She would soon vanish.”

“Ah, this—”

They were speaking of my sword—the blade imbued with the blessing of the Earth Spirit King.

So I explained how I had come to possess it, and the abilities it held.

When I finished, they chuckled.

“That’s not all.”

“Indeed. A fragment of the Earth Spirit King’s power… It cannot end there.”

“Something sturdier? A bit of protection? Ha! You really have no idea what you hold, swordsman. To wield even a fragment of a Spirit King’s essence is no small thing. You’re as clueless as a young orc.”

“…So there’s something else hidden in this sword?”

“Of course there is. Something far greater than what you described.”

Their grins deepened.

“But telling you now would spoil the fun.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll learn when the time comes. Kekeke.”

“……”

Damn it.

Every mysterious being in this world acted the same. Never a straight answer.

As I grumbled inwardly, one elder spoke again.

“Heir of Steel.”

“Yes.”

“One of the souls you’ve swallowed—the bond that should’ve long since crumbled—faintly connects to this city. You feel it, don’t you? A breeze that refuses to leave.”

“……”

“That breeze will carry a new bond to you. And with that new bond, the wind will grow stronger… fiercer.”

The elder smiled thinly.

“Well, whether a mere sword-swinger can seize such a bond is uncertain. If fate allows, you’ll grasp it.”

“And what does that—”

“Enough chatter!”

Before I could finish, the elder’s booming voice filled the chamber. He raised his staff high, then struck the floor. A faint tremor rippled through the ground.

“Your request is granted. The bridge you sought is laid. Now go—without hindrance.”

“……”

“Sherizik, tell your father how we fare. He need not visit; just come yourself from time to time and share your stories. Old orcs need no reunions—this world belongs to the young.”

“Yes, Elders.”

“And you, Heir of Steel—”

The tremor grew stronger.

Their figures began to waver. The elders bared their fangs in crooked smiles.

“The Witches are cunning. They’ll try to ensnare you, to take what they want and deny you what you seek. It’s their favorite trick. Don’t be fooled. Remember who you are. Remember the blood that runs through your veins.”

“……”

“Steel bows to no one.”

The solemn words echoed.

Then the world shook as though in an earthquake. The ceiling and walls collapsed, and darkness swallowed me and Sherizik whole. As the world turned black, the shamans’ cackling voices rang in our ears—Kuheheheh!—And then—

***

“Kyaaaah!!”

When I opened my eyes, Sherizik and I were sitting on top of a group of slender women.

Blinking in confusion, I looked down. All of them had bandages or cloths wrapped tightly around their faces, covering every bit of skin. Just like Audrey.

“W-wait a second…”

The moment I saw those distinct coverings, I knew who they were.

The Witches. The most exalted ladies of the continent.

“Get off us! Now—get off!”

“A man! A man has invaded the Witches’ sanctum!”

“Kyaaaaaa!!”

The noble ladies— were screaming in pure outrage.

Through the gaps in the cloth and bandages, their eyes glared at me with utter contempt— as if looking at a shameless criminal.

I turned my head slowly.

Sherizik was beside me, looking awkwardly sheepish.

“The elders can be a bit mischievous.”

“……”

This… was their idea of mischief?

“But quick, wasn’t it?”

“……”

Was she seriously joking right now?