Top Instructor of a Third-Rate Academy

189

Returning to my room, I washed up and immediately sat at my desk and picked up my pen.

I wanted to sort out the thoughts I had gained earlier.

'How did people who do not know Sword Intent awaken Aura?'

They did not know Sword Intent.

What is Sword Intent?

It was the mind to swing the sword, and it referred to the process of moving the body for that purpose.

That was why the foundational textbooks focused on detailing what function each part of my body performed and what effects arose from what movements.

But these men had been in a situation where they could hardly have Sword Intent in the first place.

Before they were knights, they were soldiers who fought at the frontier under the Empire's command.

They prioritized the will of the army and the Empire over their own, and lived suppressing their own opinions.

In the end, what remained to them was not Sword Intent — the will of the sword — but rather concepts like fighting spirit and combat intent.

The will to fight, and the body that moved for it.

Pure emotion — to oppose the opponent and eliminate them.

'A curious emotion.'

Can you kill an opponent without hating them?

The answer was clear.

'Yes, you can.'

People sleep with others they do not love.

They tear down and curse others they do not hate.

They can strike someone they do not hate, and they can gild the face of someone they do not like.

Human behavior is not always decided by reason.

'Rational thought. Let us call this conscious behavior.'

Then what should we call the emotional behavior that occurs regardless of a person's consciousness?

'Not the conscious. Not the place of consciousness. Should we call it the unconscious?'

Having organized that far, I continued my thinking.

This was not a matter of only one or two people.

Every person has a conscious and an unconscious, and so do I.

'Aside from the Aura I normally control, I have Aura I cannot control.'

However, because I have been continuously refining my Sword Intent, the unconscious was unable to manifest properly and was suppressed.

But this time, absorbing the Fantasies caused a problem.

A Fantasy meant not the order of this world but the order of another world.

That is, it was not the will of a person, but a power that came from outside — made in a place without consciousness.

A Fantasy naturally settled into the unconscious, and as a result the unconscious went out of control.

So the question shifted to this.

'Is the unconscious truly beyond control?'

The answer was: no.

The reason the people of the Crownhardt Ducal House can emit Aura is because their unconscious domain has been trained.

Take soldiers, for example.

They probably had no particular feelings toward the barbarians at the Empire's borders.

But in the middle of a war where they are deployed as new recruits — a space of mutual killing — hostility toward the opponent is naturally created and etched in.

The unconscious is formed through such experience.

'What if there were a consciousness strong enough to suppress the unconscious?'

This is hard to simply call consciousness, so let us call it something like the super-consciousness.

For instance, the knight Chamson who had been called in earlier.

I had taught him, starting from the basics, what Sword Intent was.

I had corrected his stance and guided his sword in the direction he wanted to go.

That alone had caused his Aura to lose its initial intensity and become considerably more stable.

Just in case, I had tried the same method with Duke Crownhardt.

The Duke, who I thought would have ample experience and knowledge of the sword, unexpectedly found it difficult to suppress his Aura.

'The more experience one has, the stronger the unconscious becomes.'

But that was only for a moment.

I broke down every movement of his body as he swung the sword.

I thoroughly analyzed why each muscle, each joint, moved.

And then at some point, the Duke swung his sword as though he had grasped something, and his Aura stabilized.

Chamson, who had reached his enlightenment much earlier, had watched the whole process beside us, spellbound.

He probably caught a glimpse of the direction his own sword needed to go.

In the end he was even shedding cold sweat, looking overwhelmed — I could only hope it had been good stimulation.

'How should I think about my own unconscious?'

In terms of Cassian the person, the unconscious experience is very small.

But from the perspective of the demon Fantasies?

It is a power that has been refined from its very root in order to harm humans.

To suppress this, it would be wrong to speak of something like merely "Cassian's sword."

Rather, something farther, greater.

'The ultimate sword.'

I had to actually put into concrete terms what that concept — which I had been treating abstractly — truly was.

The story of what the greatest sword is.

It was not difficult.

'The advanced swordsmanship curriculum was built for exactly that purpose in the first place.'

Now I trust myself.

The path I seek to accomplish with the sword is superior to the path of any other swordsman.

I may not be the correct answer, but I must be walking the fastest path toward the correct answer.

With that belief, I honed my sword.

I dismantled Sword Intent and rewrote the sword.

The paper filled densely.

I set aside a page filled to the brim.

I pulled out a new sheet.

Again I filled the paper densely with words, with drawings.

The blank paper filled with memos, then atop them, I scribbled notes only I could decipher.

I overwrote, and overwrote, and overwrote — and when the paper was finally covered in black ink, I cleared it away.

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of such pages.

I do not know how much time passed.

When I came to my senses, the candle that had been lighting the room was already fully spent, not even giving off smoke anymore.

The predawn air was chilly, and the bluish smell of daybreak was drifting in from far away.

Trees were budding flowers in preparation for morning, and early birds were chirping as they flew.

In the midst of it, I too rose.

"Done."

I grabbed my sword and moved to the training ground.

I steadied my breathing and took up the sword.

"......"

Then I swung it.

The sword cleanly cut the empty air.

And I realized.

I had surpassed the realm of Expert.

'Sword Master......'

At last.

I had arrived.

***

Back when I was writing the textbook and organizing theory, I had, at some point, had such a thought.

'What would it feel like to reach Master?'

Mages had said that when they reached a new stage, the mana inside their bodies would burst, and a gate to the heavens seemed to open at the crown of their head.

Stars twinkled before their eyes, and uncontrollable power erupted outward.

People called it "awakening."

Aura was the concept of wielding the sword like magic.

So awakening to Aura, and completing one's own unique path, would likely be as spectacular as a mage's awakening.

While swinging the sword, one would fall into a trance, dance a sword dance emitting Aura, and finally bring the energy under control to reach the next stage.

I had thought something like that.

'Who knew I would awaken from writing furiously like a madman.'

I went back inside the house and checked the scraps of paper I had written on all night.

Most of them were blackened pulp.

What enlightenments I had gained along what trajectory — even I could not read.

'It is fine.'

This enlightenment remained intact in my body.

Whenever I needed it, it would naturally organize itself and spill out as text.

I washed my body, which was a wreck after the all-night session, put on fresh clothes, and headed toward the classroom.

'Different.'

Perhaps because I had risen to the level of Sword Master.

My senses on all sides felt much more acute.

All five senses felt sharpened.

For instance — over there, that spot.

Someone approaching from that direction was —

"Teacher! Your body is not well, and yet you are walking around alone?!"

My disciple, Rozalin.

She had, once again, come out at the crack of dawn under the pretext of escorting me.

Vibrant energy poured off her entire body.

"I am fine."

"Aiigh, 'fine,' you say?! Teacher, you must treat your own body more preciously! No, your current state is not a problem of you but of you being a Destroyer King who demolishes everything around you——"

"Rozalin."

When I quietly called her name, Rozalin, who had been chattering on, slowly shut her mouth and looked at me.

Her blue eyes held many emotions.

Worry, anxiety, concern, and many other deep emotions besides.

I answered all those emotions with a smile and tapped her head on her hat twice, gently.

"Do not worry. I am really fine."

"......Teacher?"

I turned and walked slowly forward.

I could feel Rozalin following me from behind.

Rather than just saying I was fine, I would need to show her.

I slowly drew my sword.

The sword slipped out of its sheath without a sound, as though naturally.

It felt as though the blade had always been out and was simply already in my hand.

'A good wind.'

I swung the sword horizontally, following the current of the wind.

The wind was cut.

"Huh......?"

The wind, split in two, did not vanish but scattered in all directions.

The floral scents riding the wind, the faint smell of rain from far away, the warm sunlight, and the scent of the streets' animals slowly dispersed and lingered around us.

"I am really fine."

"Really? Overnight?"

This should reassure her.

Thinking that, I turned my head.

There stood Rozalin, wearing a somehow indignant expression.

Uh, huh? Why?

"Teacher, you are not human, are you?"

"What do you——"

"No, it makes no sense. Huh? Do you even know how many Fantasy-corrupted human bastards there have been? And someone who absorbed not one but six Fantasies — in a single night attains enlightenment like a saint who met God? You really think I'd just go oh wonderful, Teacher has had another revelation?!"

"That can happen? Uh — I think I became a Master......"

"Do! Not! Say! Ridiculous! Things! Is Master a joke? Huh? You think just because you cut some wind you can swing the sword like Pan, who cut space-time?!"

B-but it is true.

I really did become a Master?

"No, what on earth did you even do?! The night-duty kids did not say anything special! Did you just sleep all day in your dorm, Teacher?"

"Uh, no, that, that...... I wrote a book."

"Are you kidding?! Huh? Hopeless dimwits like Sordian can roll around all day, swing their swords, put on all kinds of crazy shows and still fail to awaken Aura, but someone just writing becomes a Master?!"

"Well, that is a matter of individual characteristics......"

"Are you out of your mind? Huh? When a person is weak, they are supposed to be looked after a bit — and on that pretext I can also audit some classes and spend time with you! That is how it is supposed to go!"

"Uh-huh, uh......"

"And now what is this, huh? I went to all that trouble to come out early, and you are like, 'no need, I have awakened, I am a Master now, teehee'? Is that the kind of teacher you are to me?!"

"I-I am, your teacher...... No, wait, I withdrew, so am I not your teacher?"

"Who said you are not my teacher?!"

"The one who withdrew was you......"

"Once a teacher, always a teacher, did you not know that?!"

Rozalin stuck by my side and raged at me all the way until I got to the classroom.

Why — I had no idea why.

Her anger finally subsided, ironically, because of the Spear God, who had come to prepare for the special class.

The Spear God, looking me over, narrowed his eyes.

"You — did you eat something good overnight?"

"Hm?"

"Something is different. Let us have a match today."