Rogue Villain-Chapter 253: Crazy

The wall was cut.

Ackster had hypnotized himself into believing it was true, and he projected his own understanding of reality onto the wall in front of him.

Through a mysterious power, Ackster’s projection came true.

The wall was cut.

"Fuck yeah..."

Ackster barely registered his success before succumbing to his exhaustion and hunger. He passed out, his brain a total wreck from the forceful method of learning to use Will he had just put it through.

Sword God went up and took a close look at the scratch mark on the wall so faint it was barely visible before turning to Ackster, who slumped on the ground like two sacks of potatoes leaning against each other.

"...Crazy disciple."

Ackster woke up before long and stuffed himself with whatever he had in his Inventory, whether it be organic matter from beasts and monsters or items and weapons he had picked up. Thanks to Smelting Furnace, he could burn and digest everything as long as it wasn’t too durable for his skill.

The Sword God didn’t seem to care about or think anything of Ackster chewing on and eating weapons like spears and halbers. He just looked at Ackster and waited until his disciple was done.

"It seems like you got it."

"I’m not sure I got what you were trying to teach me, but I got something, at least."

"Try it out."

Ackster wiped his mouth and stood up in front of the wall again.

He focused his mind.

As he did so, he vaguely felt his mind respond to him in a way it hadn’t done before. As if it knew what he was going to do, his mind took shape, and when Ackster wished for the wall to be cut, his mind lashed out and left another faint scratch on the wall.

It was nigh instantaneous. It was a lot faster than drawing a sheathed sword or even striking with an unsheathed sword already in his hand.

Ackster felt a little strange about learning how to use Will by imagining a sword cut when he had never really practiced with a sword. So far, he had only used his fists and Stormcaller when fighting.

For comparison, Ackster tried punching and hitting the wall with Stormcaller.

The results disappointed him.

Due to the wider surface area, his fist barely left a mark unless he used his rippling punch. Then, it left behind almost a crater in the wall.

Stormcaller pierced the stone with relative ease.

Will was useful, but it wasn’t powerful. At least not yet.

When he looked closely at the two scratches, Ackster noticed a faint difference in the two marks. The one he had just made was less than a hair deeper. Like any skill in his arsenal, whether from the world or his own ability, Ackster could train his Will to become stronger.

Of course, Ackster doubted it would be anything more than a powerful supplement in his battles. His body was too strong for Will to surpass it.

But Ackster knew the Sword God hadn’t taught or told him to learn Will for the sole purpose of using it as a weapon. The other insights and enlightenments Ackster had reached in the process of learning Will were most likely more important, especially the part about not relying on the skills supplied to him by the world without making them his own.

"What?"

Ackster looked at the Sword God’s hand, gesturing for him to hand it over. The only problem was that Ackster didn’t know—

"Ah, the sword."

Ackster looked at the black symbol, which seemed to have grown darker than the last time he looked.

"I can try."

"No. You will do it."

"Right."

Another thing Ackster realized was that intent and conviction were important. He was powerful enough that his thoughts alone could affect the outcome of his actions and what was happening.

Akcster nodded.

"I will do it."

Ackster focused on his body, shielding it from the rest of the world. He concentrated his focus and Will on the symbol of the black sword. At first, he didn’t feel anything. He couldn’t even tell there was a tattoo there.

However, as he deepened his perception, Ackster began to notice a foreign existence nestled into his body. Ackster got an image of a pitch-black sword lying in a pile of green blankets of light made from his vitality. It looked like a sleeping baby but like a sword.

Ackster stretched his Will forward and approached the sword. He absentmindedly realized that he should be able to control the vast ocean of green that was his vitality now as well. But he set that matter aside. The Sword God wouldn’t let him leave unless he handed over the sword or showed the Sword God he could control it.

So, Ackster wrapped his Will around the sword’s handle.

He tried to.

When he got too close, the sword lashed out and cut Ackster’s Will.

Ackster breathed in through his teeth in pain.

’What the fuck?’

He had Pain Tolerance SS. Things didn’t hurt enough for him to react to the pain. Or that’s what he thought.

"Will is an extension of your soul. When you injure your Will, you injure your soul."

The Sword God’s voice was surprisingly soothing. Ackster was starting to think it might have been a ridiculously good idea to get the Sword God to teach him.

"So, the more you do it, the stronger your soul will get."

Ackster felt a chill run down his spine as he got a bad premonition of what he would be doing in the future. He also got a better understanding of why the Sword God might be like he is.

Ackster closed his eyes and spread his Will again. It hadn’t recovered completely. But now that he knew what to expect, Ackster was confident he could fend off or control the sword.

After all, he had already realized what the sword wanted.

When he arrived in front of the sword resting on a pile of life force, leeching on it, Ackster didn’t reach for the sword. Instead, he wrapped his vitality in his Will and stole it out from under the sword.

The sword floated in mid-air and it looked around, confused, as if wondering what had just happened.

"Fucking parasite, listen to me."