Sword Devouring Swordmaster

Translator: AkazaTL

Pr/Ed: Sol IX

***

Chapter 194 – Hero (1)

“The Great Land’s Conquest Army made contact with the Order of the Cross?”

In the port city of Visente, Zeppelin Gold received the shocking report.

“Yes. We haven’t determined their intentions yet, but we’ve found traces of the Conquest Army everywhere. It seems they’ve already landed on the Southern Continent.”

“...Those beasts have finally gone mad.”

Beasts. It was unusual for Zeppelin Gold to use such harsh words, but as one hailing from the Black Archipelago, he couldn’t think otherwise. During his years with the Red Bank, he’d seen firsthand the savagery and horror that the so-called army of the “Great Land” was capable of.

“To think they’d break their pact with the Sky Empire the moment war loomed… The ceasefire treaty that forbade them from crossing the central borders—”

“You expected this, didn’t you, Young Master?”

“Yes. I expected it. Beasts like them would never stay caged in their own plains forever. But I didn’t think they’d come south.”

The Great Land and the Southern Continent—an unlikely alliance.

“Why would they come all the way down here? No, more importantly—how did they even reach us? The Conquest Army can’t cross the sea.”

That was the critical question—not why, but how. The warriors of the plains couldn’t sail. For centuries, the vast eastern horde had been trapped behind the Sky Empire’s iron barrier, unable to set foot in the Central or Western continents. So how had they crossed now?

“It seems the Machine Empire has joined forces with them.”

That was the answer.

“The Machine Empire?”

“Yes. The remnants of the magitech legions that lost the war with the Iron Kingdom. They fled east and apparently struck some kind of deal.”

A deal. The exact terms were unknown. But the news was dire.

Until now, the Great Land’s infamy had been contained only because of the barrier maintained by the Sky Empire—the greatest empire, the guardian of order that had long restrained the eastern warlords. But now, that order has crumbled.

The Machine Empire allied with the Great Land… This is catastrophic.

Throughout history, the warriors of the Great Land had never crossed the sea. They believed they had to die on the plains to return to their god’s embrace. Their bravery faltered over open waters, and they lacked both the skill and temperament to sail. Whenever the Great Land even looked toward the ocean, the nations of the world—led by the Sky Empire—would panic.

Those lunatics must never be allowed in the sea.

But the balance had broken.

The strongest army ever to walk the earth had grown wings. And what would follow was obvious— The bloodthirsty legions of the Sun-Khan, who never ceased their wars, would soon tread the soil of opportunity.

The Western and Central nations, long lulled by peace, would now face the devils of the plains.

Those softened by peace could never withstand such an army. Victory would be impossible—survival itself would be a miracle. Since the rise of the Khan’s banner, the Conquest Army had never stopped fighting, never stopped killing.

Who could stand against them? Only the guardians of order—the Sky Empire.

“A storm of blood is coming.”

Zeppelin wiped the sweat from his brow. He could already see it— the inevitable clash between the two greatest military powers on the continent.

Those fools… How could they make such a choice?

He knew the war between the Iron Kingdom and the Machine Empire was far fiercer than anyone had expected.

Lafrien, the Machine Empire, was being driven back under the Iron Kingdom’s relentless offensive. Their capital would soon fly the banner of Iron. But he hadn’t thought they’d go this far—breaking the world’s order forged by all great nations.

Is this a plea for help before they’re destroyed? Or a suicide pact—releasing demons upon the land so that no one else survives their fall? Either way, the result would be disastrous.

The magitech-dependent fools of the West might not know it, but those from the Black Archipelago like Zeppelin Gold understood the terror of the Great Land. Their horror lay not only in their violence but in their desire— they would do anything for more. And once those devils began rampaging, nothing could stop them. Nothing.

“What should we do, Young Master?”

“In the end, we must look at their intent and their gain.”

“Their… intent and gain?”

“Yes. Those two things are always the truth of the world. We must discern why the Great Land has landed here, and what they hope to gain by helping the Order of the Cross. The conclusion is simple.”

The Great Land always sought more conquest—more glory, more triumph.

“They’ll help the Order seize the South and then turn it into their new steppe—a forward base to invade the Central and Western continents at will. A place where they can open Warp Gates and deploy troops whenever they wish. If that happens…”

“Then every land will burn.”

Yes. All of it would burn. Every place the plains devils touched had always burned. And the high lords surely already knew this.

Zeppelin could almost see what was coming— the war-mad conquerors who sought to claim every land, the guardians of order who wished to preserve peace, and the jackals who sought profit in chaos.

Those three kinds would soon gather together. And Zeppelin Gold belonged to the third.

“Summon the mercenary company.”

“Where are we going, sir?”

“We’re going to Lord Karavan.”

Because for what was coming.

“We’ll need a hero.”

To pull off the greatest business of his life. After all, in every war, a hero was always one of the many protagonists. But Zeppelin Gold didn’t yet know one thing— the hero he’d chosen, Arhan, was already standing at the very heart of the coming storm.

***

“Greatest of the Great Warriors—thank you for returning.”

At the heart of the Holy Empire, where the sun never set, the aged High Priest welcomed Buddha, the Great Warrior of the Sun.

“I must protect the servants of the Sun,” Buddha replied.

The priest smiled faintly, though worry shadowed his eyes.

“High Priest, why do you look troubled?”

“…The Order of the Cross grows more depraved by the day. Too many have died, and in the confusion, many have turned away from us.”

“Is that the source of your worry?”

“No. The immediate troubles are solved now that you’ve returned. But something far more fearful has come.”

“Fearful?”

Darkness crossed the priest’s face.

“An envoy from the Central Continent visited recently.”

“From the Central Continent?”

“He claimed to represent an alliance of many nations—and brought word that the plains warriors of the Great Land are aiding the Order of the Cross. He said we cannot win and should accept their help.”

“…”

“If that’s true, we will perish. The devils of the plains will blacken even the sun. Not even you, Great Warrior, could stop that man.”

“So you accepted their offer?”

“I haven’t replied yet. I’m… still thinking.”

The priest sighed.

“Buddha.”

“Yes.”

“I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could return to the quiet days when I trained alone in the Sun Temple. But too many lives now depend on me. According to our doctrine, vanishing before trials is nature’s way. Yet how can I accept an unwinnable war as a trial, and watch my people die?”

“…”

“If we take the Central Alliance’s help, we might fight on equal terms. But even if we win, the world will never be the same. The Southern Continent will no longer be sacred—it will become another colony for the great powers. Wise Great Warrior, what choice should I make? Please, guide me.”

Buddha saw the priest’s fatigue clearly.

The Great Warrior of the Sun met his gaze.

“High Priest, do as you wish.”

“But—”

“All answers lie within oneself. There is no absolute right or wrong in the world. We simply walk the path illuminated by the Sun. All beings are blind wanderers, searching for the better road.”

Buddha smiled.

“Whatever you choose, I will aid you. And besides—”

“Besides?”

“There is still one radiant hero in this land.”

A hero.

“The South’s sanctity has not vanished yet, High Priest. The phoenix always rises from the ashes.”

“…”

“And after the darkest night, the sun always rises.”

He extended his hand.

“Give me the Monks and the Legion of the Sun, High Priest.”

“Where will you go?”

“To the place where a new hero will be born.”

The old monk’s clouded eyes turned outward.

“To the City of Stars.”

***

Starlight fell upon me. The desert’s short night faded, and dawn approached. Amid the swirling winds, I stood—the brightest light of all.

“Ba—stards—!”

The citizens of Antoine surged forward, their cries filled with rage and grief. Their movements slowed, and then—froze entirely. In the still world, grains of sand floated as eight pairs of Wings unfurled behind me. With those Wings came countless Paths. In that instant, I existed in every corner of the battlefield at once. Each elegant swing of my blade sliced through Crusader armor like tofu. With every cut, a life ended, the light fading from another’s eyes.

Blood sprayed. Only then did the enemies around me realize what had happened.

Their fear, confusion, and despair all twisted into one emotion—rage.

Maces crashed down, but a fierce wind answered from behind— the Ronin’s blade swept through the armored Paladins, flinging them like rag dolls. As their heavy forms fell, starlight burst from my body, splitting the oncoming Crusaders in two. None could cross that radiant divide—it was as though the sea itself had parted.

A miracle. The Miracle of Stars.

“Traveler, go!”

Moses’s voice rang clear. At the end of the parted wave stood a new Great Warrior—Aaron.

Younger and less composed than Ismael, but his power surpassed the old woman’s.

“S-Stop him!”

“M-My holy power—it’s not responding! It’s like we’re in another god’s sanctuary!”

The priests and inquisitors of the Order screamed. They flailed helplessly, but no miracle reached them. Under the Star’s Miracle that Moses had invoked, their divine power was sealed.

A Miracle of Peace.

By reading the flow of energy, I could tell— Moses’s light sealed all enemy power, while we remained free.

The priests wailed, then fell under the blows of the charging citizens of Antoine.

Blood splashed, screams rose.

At the edge of that shining rift stood the Great Warrior, Aaron.

“Y-You foreigner—!”

In that instant, a Path connected. And I was drawn toward it like a bowstring released. Wings flared, and I was suddenly before him— steel clashed.

“Kh!”

The blade hadn’t pierced his armor, but the force drove him back. As he staggered, I re-linked the Path and lunged again— this time, my sword thrust into his abdomen. Blood burst, Aaron’s eyes widened.

“...!”

The wound wasn’t deep. And such shallow wounds healed instantly for a Great Warrior.

I remembered Ismael’s miracle well—the Cross of Resurrection.

To kill one, you couldn’t chip away. You had to finish it.

Tch.

But the sword stuck fast. His regenerating flesh and muscle clamped down on the blade. Clicking my tongue, I saw Aaron trembling—then smirking.

“Did you think… a sinner could defeat a Great Warrior?”

But.

“How foolish.”

I wasn’t alone.

“Nyasok.”

A wet thud. A short dagger, like a beast’s fang, burst through Aaron’s throat. His eyes shook violently. From his shadow, a dark figure emerged—the assassin from the Free City.

Finally shut up, huh?

Aaron gagged, swinging wildly to throw him off. The assassin twisted midair, landing lightly, then vanished again. A moment later, one of the War Mages guarding Aaron collapsed, blood spraying as his head rolled away. No one had even seen the strike.

Silence fell. Heavy, suffocating silence.

“G-Great Warrior!”

A priest called out. One of Aaron’s glowing amulets shattered, falling to the sand. The dagger was forced out as his wound closed in an instant. His bloodshot eyes flared as he gasped for breath.

A magic tool?

A talisman that blocked lethal damage—clearly expensive. I flicked the blood from my sword and studied him. This old blade was reaching its limit.

“You coward! Using assassins—!”

“…”

Up close, he was even more ridiculous.

Coward? Really?

Screaming that while draped in relics and surrounded by lackeys.

I looked at him and said evenly,

“Then how about a duel?”

“No Great Warrior of righteousness would sully himself with a sinner’s duel! That would be disgraceful!”

“…Then take off that armor.”

“These are the hopes and prayers of those who believe in justice! You’d have me throw them away? Typical of a sinner’s tongue!”

This bastard… Unbelievable.

…Five amulets left. Meaning five more lives. Six, counting the body itself.

The necklace hadn’t activated earlier, meaning it only triggered on truly fatal damage. An absurdly overpowered trinket. And who knew what else he carried?

Killing him six times isn’t the issue… the question is whether this sword will last.

The edge was worn, ready to snap.

The Crusaders carried only maces—no spare swords to take.

If only I still had my own blade. Or even a decent one.

Maybe, I thought fleetingly, Moses would drop a sword of starlight from the heavens like in some epic legend. The hero wielding a holy blade to smite evil—how perfect that would be. Of course, reality wasn’t a fairy tale. Even with the Star’s Miracle, Moses could only invoke blessings of peace, not violence.

Well… guess I’ll manage somehow.

I took a breath and readied my stance. And then.

“Lord Karavan—!”

A sharp whoosh! A blade spun through the air and slammed into the ground before me. Its glint was unmistakable—my partner, the sword that had followed me since Blade City.

The one blessed by the Earth Spirit King, Gaia.

“This is Zeppelin Gold!”

That voice had never sounded so welcome. As I reached for the sword, a gentle mist enveloped me— my worn leather armor and boots shimmered and transformed. The armor gleamed with sapphire light, the boots felt weightless, and enchanted daggers lined my thigh.

“You’re Zeppelin Gold’s partner! You deserve only the finest gear! Hahaha! I filled it with treasures far pricier than last time—!”

My chest swelled as I drew the sword from the ground. It shone brilliantly—dazzling as sunlight.

“…”

Aaron froze. Even the distant pounding of boots—Zeppelin’s mercenary company—didn’t break his silence. I could feel their presence growing closer.

Aaron stammered, “C-Coward—”

“Don’t talk to me.”

Because.

“You’re beneath me.”

You should’ve agreed to the duel when you had the chance.

“You bastard—!”

Aaron swung his shield. I met it head-on with Gaia’s blade.

The impact rang out— and then, an impossible sound followed: Craack.

A fissure split his shield.

“What—”

Even the finest white-steel couldn’t match this.

The weapon blessed by the Earth Spirit King, the blade the Witch herself had called the strongest weapon in the continent.

I looked at the stunned Aaron and said kindly,

“Should’ve invested in better gear.”

So kindly.