Sword Devouring Swordmaster

Translator: AkazaTL

Pr/Ed: Sol IX

***

Chapter 166 – Thunder (6)

In the distant past, there was an age when Witches were not yet respected as true magical beings. It was a primitive time when neither learning, ethics, nor order had yet taken proper form—a world where the rights of a single life were not honored. In that world, Witches were not called Witches, but chieftains or grand shamans. The Witches of the ancient age could look to the sky and predict the weather, summon rain to end a drought through prayer, or halt storms and floods.

The beings of that ancient age revered Witches as agents of the gods—bringers of good harvests—and they were even worshiped for their beauty.

But the primitive age was chaotic, and on a continent overflowing with lands without rulers, war never ceased. Humans of the ancient world, driven by the greed inherent to their nature, proved the most wicked of all the seven races in their ideas and deeds. If victory in war meant gaining more, there was nothing they would not do.

The tribes and lands governed by Witches were desired by all. They had no mighty armies nor heroic warriors, yet theirs were lands flowing with milk and honey—lands of abundance worth coveting.

However, the primitive humans knew that the Witches controlled the weather. They feared that harming them might incur the wrath of the heavens. It was one man’s audacious cry that silenced that fear: “The gods do not intervene in the mortal realm. If a transcendent being were to meddle in the world below, the balance would crumble. Surely the gods would not rage over a mere woman.”

It sounded convincing— and yet, the people were uneasy.

So, to calm their fears, that same man decided to act. He crept into a tribe ruled by Witches and set fire to their homes. The Witches, sleeping peacefully, screamed as they awoke to the flames. Though they barely escaped with their lives, their radiant beauty was utterly destroyed. Their soft skin melted in the fire; their once-lovely features were twisted into grotesque shapes. Even their eyes had melted, leaving them unable to see their own faces. The Witches wept, touching their charred hair.

The man rejoiced in the success of his plan. Surely now, with their beauty ruined, the great god would no longer cherish those women. How could the gods still consider such wretches their brides? Perhaps, if he offered the gods more beautiful women, he too might be granted divine favor.

The man drove stakes into the ground of the tribe and hung the disfigured Witches upon them. Then he shouted to the villagers, “Behold their true forms! They deceived you with false beauty! We are your saviors, come to free you!”

And, astonishingly, the villagers believed him. For though they revered the Witches, they had always secretly feared them—beings who could predict the weather and weave Mysteries with a mere whisper. Thus, when the man promised wine, meat, and women to anyone who brought him another Witch, the Witch Hunt began.

Countless Witches were bound to stakes. The disfigured ones screamed and begged for their lives, and the people mocked their ugliness—mocked the “almighty” Witches for their pitiful forms. Both the villagers who once worshiped them and the invaders who had come to conquer them violated them together. The Witches could not accept what was happening. Their bodies and spirits were defiled beyond repair. Some gazed skyward with hollow eyes, seeking solace. But the heavens gave no answer. And one Witch, crushed by despair, bit her tongue and ended her own life.

Her body left the mortal realm and reached the Spirit World. The Heavenly Father—who had loved her and taken her as his wife—could not speak when he saw her wretched end. He offered her rest in his embrace, but the Witch refused and chose annihilation instead.

What words she whispered to the Heavenly Father before her final dissolution were never passed down. But upon witnessing his wife’s complete erasure, the Heavenly Father broke his own laws and descended into the mortal realm. He came to see, with his own divine eyes, what had become of his wives whose voices he had once only heard from afar.

The next day, the man learned how wrong he had been. Though the Heavenly Father, one of the Seven Lords, took only beautiful women as his brides, he did not abandon them when their beauty was ruined. Instead, he burned with divine fury—beyond anything the human mind could fathom. In his wrath, he broke divine law, the balance of the mortal realm, and the ancient pact between the Seven Lords and the Nine Goddesses without hesitation.

Having seen his wives weeping and defiled, the Heavenly Father demonstrated what would happen when one of the Seven Lords actively intervened in the mortal realm.

For ten days, lightning rained from the sky—not water, but divine bolts that annihilated everything they struck. For ten days, every being who had harmed a Witch was erased from existence. Those who stood by in silence were also erased. The three kingdoms that led the invasion were reduced to ash.

From that day forward, the Witches became officially protected by the Heavenly Father himself. They were ordered to live with their faces veiled so that none would dare look upon them. From then on, no one ever again laid hands upon a Witch— no one.

The Heavenly Father, who had suffered a loss too terrible for words, watched over his brides so that such tragedy would never be repeated. He taught them magic and gifted them the talent to become Mages. Even that made them formidable, yet to the Lord of Heaven, it was not enough. And so, he granted them a few divine gifts— so that, if the world ever threatened them again, they could burn the world to ash.

***

The circumstances under which 「Thunder」 was lost were never known. Likely, one of the Witches took it to protect herself and lost it through carelessness. It happened often. Coddled by divine protection and sisterly care, the Witches were not as meticulous as they ought to have been. They were delicate maidens—flowers in a greenhouse.

When they lost a precious relic, the Witches wept and begged forgiveness before their Lord, but the Heavenly Father did not scold them. How could such lovely brides weep over a mere trinket? Instead, he said, “When the time comes, when you need it most, Thunder shall return to you. Such is destiny.”

“Ah.”

And now— at this very moment— 「Thunder」 had returned.

The First Witch, Elizabeth, knew better than anyone how great this relic truly was. She remembered the massacre of the primitive age, and the last, sorrowful sight of her younger sister weeping in loneliness. Grieving, she accepted the full power of 「Thunder」. She felt it—the perfect, unquestioning love of Heaven itself.

A world-shaking thunderclap resounded. When Elizabeth opened her eyes, she was no longer the same being as before. She had become something no one dared gaze upon.

“You arrogant elves,” she spoke, her voice echoing like the storm. “Did you think you could hide from the lightning among your leaves and rotting trees? Old elf—did you dare call my first wife unclean? You dared insult the one I hold dearest?”

「Thunder」 was a gift the Heavenly Father carved from his own essence. Its true power—accessible only to Witches—was “Descent.” When invoked, it allowed a being who should never appear in the mortal realm to manifest through the Witch’s body.

“You pitiful fairy who has grown only old without wisdom—time itself, which wrinkled your skin, was created by me and my kin. The First Land that gave you life was created by us. Even the sky you look upon—I made it.”

The husband of all Witches. One of the Seven Lords. The Heavenly Father.

“Show proper respect. You stand before the most precious of my brides.”

With a thunderclap that seemed to tear the world apart, every tree in the Great Forest burst into flame and vanished. The leaves and trunks that once hid the heavens turned to ash. Nothing now stood between the earth and the sky. From the black storm clouds above, an overwhelming gaze fell upon the land.

“……”

“Elder?”

Meeting that gaze, High Elf Nadin froze. Slowly, he raised his hands, palms open, and took a step back with his head bowed. He had no will to fight.

“Let’s retreat.”

“But—”

“Hurry.”

The other elves murmured in disbelief.

“Are we simply letting the intruders go? At least allow us to take that human’s head for daring to wound you, Elder. If not, we’ll send our young ones to trail them. We can’t let this insult—”

“Do not. Under no circumstance.”

Nadin spoke quietly, clutching his wound.

“That one is far beyond what you can handle. The Karavan sword has already reached its trajectory.”

“What do you mean?”

“When his blade struck me, my link to the World Tree was severed. Had the cut been even a little deeper, my long life would’ve ended. Not even the continent’s strongest swordsmen could have done that.”

“……”

“That human… is wrong somehow.”

It was true.

When he was struck by that burning blade—a blade filled with malice toward the world—Nadin could no longer feel the World Tree. Impossible. Even Swordmasters could not sever the bond between an elf and the Tree. Yet that single strike had done so. He was losing both his immortality and his endless spiritual power, returning to what he once was—a frail, ordinary elf.

“Let them go. Do not stir hatred in them. To incur the wrath of the Karavan bloodline… nothing could be more dreadful. Better to plant goodwill now. Next time, we must show them a friendly face.”

“That would be a disgrace to elves.”

“Even disgrace is better than death.”

Nadin glanced toward the descendant of Karavan.

This time, he was far stronger than before. In merely two months, he had become something completely different. And he would only grow stronger still—as the first Karavan once had.

And when that day came.

“What’s more precious than one’s life?”

Even an immortal High Elf could not hope to stand against such a being.

“Let’s go home, children.”

***

The Heavenly Father, dwelling within Elizabeth’s body, watched the retreating elves with a faint sneer. Seeing those proud creatures flee in fear was satisfying.

“Cowardly things.”

Part of him wanted to strike down the entire forest with lightning and wipe out the elves, but that would be excessive. A warning like this would suffice. If he crossed the line, even he would face divine restrictions. And with the Era of War approaching, it would not be wise to waste power so soon.

‘Better to save my strength—to protect my wives when the true crisis comes.’

His brides always came first. Thinking thus, the Heavenly Father turned his gaze toward the descendant of Karavan—the hated one, heir to that filthy Steel Blood. The last remaining Karavan in the mortal world.

‘How convenient it would be to erase him.’

If he died, the Karavan line would vanish completely. The shame inflicted upon the Seven Lords and Nine Goddesses would at last be avenged.

But—

‘No. That would bring ruin upon us all.’

He could not. Because behind that still-weak descendant stood another being—one who would draw his sword the moment that oath was broken. The moment his descendant died, that being would start another war. A final war that would end everything.

‘He’s stronger now… stronger than in those days.’

The Heavenly Father closed his eyes. The divine presence withdrew, returning to where it belonged— the heavens.

He felt no regret. As Nadin had said,

‘I can’t bear to make my brides widows.’

For there was nothing more precious than life itself.

***

After all the trials, the mission was finally complete. We retrieved the Witches’ treasure from the Great Forest and, thanks to Elizabeth’s power, escaped safely back to our domain.

“Thank you. Because of you, we recovered a priceless relic. The Witches’ standing will rise higher than ever, and in these chaotic times, my sisters will be safer.”

“Then… about the extra reward—”

“Of course!”

Elizabeth smiled, satisfied.

“As a special favor, I’ll allow Audrey to stay here in your domain.”

“What?”

“Having a Witch’s help is the greatest reward you could hope for, isn’t it? You’ll be able to employ her for only five times what ordinary mages earn! But you must pay her on time. Miss even one payment, and—”

“……”

Audrey staying in the domain was good news. Still, if that was the whole reward, it felt… lacking. Weren’t Witches rich? Couldn’t they spare some gold coins—or maybe a few magical artifacts?

‘Feels like Audrey refused to leave, so Elizabeth made this up on the spot…’

It was suspicious. But—

“That’s great! I was afraid Audrey might leave. Hehe, I’m so happy!”

“Hmph! I can’t go yet anyway. I still have much to teach you!”

“Yay!”

Seeing Hailyn so delighted, I figured it wasn’t such a bad deal after all.

‘Yeah, what’s the point of being greedy?’

I was good at swinging a sword, not managing an estate. The domain had grown thanks to Hailyn, Sancho, Tom, and Audrey. As the saying goes, people are the greatest asset. Regretful or not, I decided to let it go. No sense in pushing my luck.

“Very well, then.”

“...Why do you sound like you’re conceding something? That’s quite irritating.”

“If you’re irritated, adjust your posture.”

“I’m standing. How do I ‘adjust’ that?”

Damn it. Could she not nitpick for once?

“Big sister, take care!”

“Visit anytime! The Karavan Domain always welcomes guests!”

“Ladies, if you ever need troublesome goods handled, remember Zeppelin Gold! Descendant of the Fair Scale, always offering transparent deals! We only take a small commission—consider it a token of affection! Hahaha!”

“And if any of you have old blades you don’t need, please, send them my way! I, Tom, once served as a manager in the famed Arena, and—”

Anyway— our domain had become quite lively.

‘Nice.’

There’s nothing better than a bustling home. Watching everyone chatter and laugh, I couldn’t help but smile. Most of the major matters were now resolved. Of course, that didn’t mean my work was done. My master had said that the world would soon pay the price for forgetting the name of Karavan—and that he would teach me the true Karavan sword.

It was time to prepare for transcendence. And then—

“Lord Arhan.”

“Yes?”

“It’s time for me to return. I have many duties as heir to the House of Gold.”

“I see. Thank you for everyth—”

“Come with me.”

The growth of a Karavan was never achieved through solitary training.

“War has broken out in the southern continent sooner than expected. Your presence is needed.”

Steel is tempered in trial.

“It’s time for you to become a hero.”

It seemed peace would not come just yet.