The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth-Chapter 458: The Battle of Pharel (2)

“Here it is.”

In the underground training hall of the capital, Aidan gazed at the box Suan Hazer handed to him.

“What happened to your face?”

“Well... I believe I deserve some bragging rights from surviving Gordon Fabian’s fists.”

“Damn... You’re nuts.” Aidan chuckled at Suan’s dry response.

“And the Automata?”

“Wanna take a swing at me? Blade or fists, your choice.”

Shing—!

“Hey, how about some heads up?” Suan said in a low voice, seemingly unfazed by the dagger now resting against his neck.

“An assassin warning their target before striking?”

At that, Suan shook his head. He seemed almost amused by Aidan’s swiftness.

“Your quick reactions are impressive.”

“I didn’t actually react. I’ve been keeping it up the whole time. Sir Gordon advised me to maintain Automata even while sleeping,” Suan explained calmly.

“Well, if it can stop my blade, I’d say it deserves the name of Absolute Defense.”

Aidan could see it clearly—Suan was stronger than before.

“Now it’s my turn.”

“Be careful,” Suan said, handing Aidan the Relic of the Savages before turning away.

“You’re not going to stay and watch?”

“You ain’t a child, are you? You’ll manage. The capital’s plunged in chaos, so I’ve got to go out there and help out.”

“But what if the Thunder Lord rejects me? Or worse, he goes berserk? Someone should stay to guard this place,” Aidan argued.

Suan paused, studying Aidan before bursting into laughter.

“Wha...?”

Aidan gave a sigh, befuddled by Suan’s blatant disbelief.

“Just shut up and get your ass to the battlefield. Opening the box can wait until you’re there.”

“Are you really suggesting that we open this thing in a warzone? Are you still concussed from Gordon’s punches?”

“Stop fussing about the Calamity and follow me. I’ll wait for you.”

“Follow you where?”

Suan tilted his head slightly, feigning ignorance. Their gazes met, and both smiled softly, as if an unspoken understanding passed between them.

“To return what you borrowed.”

“No need to return anything. After you left with Gordon, I received permission directly from our lord.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll catch up soon enough. With this power, we’ll become our lord’s blade.”

“Sure, but remember that failure isn’t an option. Don’t do anythink that would bring shame to our lord.”

“Not going to happen,” Aidan reassured him.

“We’re up against deities. You and I know the might of our lord better than anyone, but there may still be a moment when he needs our help.”

“I know.”

Suan nodded. “In any case, you’re smart, unlike me. All I can do is use my body. I’m always the one who just throws himself forward. So until you get there, I’ll be our lord’s shield, alright? It’s not us who will be his sword. It’s just you.”

He waved lightly and turned away. “I’ll be going, then.”

Watching him leave, Aidan let out a dry chuckle.

“You call yourself dull? The man who’s mastered the techniques Valvont, the King of Martial Arts, and Gordon Fabian’s Absolute Defense? You’re the only one on the continent who’s inherited the secrets of two of the five original Sword Masters.”

Aidan glanced at the box Suan had left behind.

You have no idea how much I used to compete with you and Mikhail.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the door Suan had left through.

You’ve become the man I envied. Your growth is magnificent. How could I possibly fall behind now?

“Alright...”

The box’s latch was already undone, but the faint, numbing aura emanating from within confirmed that the artifact was still in a slumber.

“Because this is how I become stronger.”

Click—

Aidan opened the lid without hesitation.

“Protecting someone stronger than us might sound absurd, but no matter what happens, keep our lord safe until I get there. I’m counting on you, Suan.”

BWOOOOOM...!!!

In that instant, the capital was engulfed in a blinding light, as though the sun itself had descended on the city.

***

The Lice kept spreading across the continent, but the fiercest battle took place in Piasta, where the Calamity had first erupted. There, Kuwell, leading the Blue Knights, and Beikan’s Free Army held the line around the harbor.

“Hold the barrier!” shouted Paul Hendt, the Blue Knight’s deputy commander.

As a veteran knight, he found his mind briefly wandering to the days when he used to teach children in the quiet comfort of his estate, when there was no need to swing his sword to kill.

But the taste of blood in his mouth quickly drove those memories away. Gritting his teeth, he swung his sword with fury.

Clang! Clang!

The Mana Blade sparked every time it made contact with the swarm.

“Urgh!”

“Aaaargh...!!”

Pained cries echoed from all directions.

“Shit...!”

At first, Paul wielded his blade with relative ease, but as time went on, the weapon grew heavier in his hands. It wasn’t his age—it was the Lice, once an invisible force, now manifesting as a thick black cloud of smoke.

In mere moments, the number of insects assailing Piasta had multiplied several times over.

“Attack! Throw the firebombs!”

Beikan’s shout prompted the Free Army to employ the specially crafted ammunition made from redstones. Their arrows, to which the bombs were strapped to, arced through the sky.

Boom! Boom! Crash! BOOOM!!!

The fiery explosions resembled fireworks. As the fire arrows detonated, swarms of Lice rained down. For a brief moment, the black mass parted, revealing clear sky—but the reprieve was short-lived.

The swarms quickly surged back toward the soldiers, as if nothing had happened.

CRASH!

The knights bearing shields staggered under the tremendous impact. The protective energy faltered, and the Lice swarmed through the breach in their formation.

“Watch out!” Paul Hendt cried out.

BOOM!

But it was too late—the shield formation was already compromised. Another swarm converged into a drill-like shape and struck the shield wall with tremendous force. The gathered knights fell one after another, and the barrier collapsed entirely.

“Noooo...!!”

The knights were quickly overwhelmed as the Lice surged in a frenzy. Paul Hendt rushed to help, but the tens of thousands of murderous insects blocked his path.

“Fuck! Get off me!!”

Frustration and desperation welled up as he struggled to shake off the insects clinging to his armor, gnawing at the metal.

WHOOSH...!

Suddenly, a fierce blaze erupted from within the fallen barrier. For a moment, Paul Hendt thought Beikan’s forces had unleashed their reserve firebombs.

“What incredible power...”

The flames moved like a living entity, weaving through the gaps in the shields and consuming the swarm in its path.

“If they had something like this, why didn’t they use it earlier?”

“It wasn’t us!” Beikan said, his voice edged with alarm.

“...What?” Paul Hendt turned his head sharply.

Step, step, step...

“Master Randol...”

“I’m late.”

Paul’s eyes widened as he watched Randol MacGovern stride through the battlefield, his body cloaked in crimson flames as though wearing armor forged from fire itself.

“It’s been a while.” Randol bowed his head slightly.

Even while Kuwell had been in seclusion, Paul had kept tabs on Randol, and seeing him now filled him with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia.

Randol, once the most gifted swordsman in the MacGovern household, had kept his abilities hidden—both because of his commoner background and out of respect for his older brother, Martte.

Paul had always pitied the boy’s place in the household, but now—watching him emerge onto the battlefield after losing an arm in a duel against his father—Paul was at a loss for words.

“It’s fine,” Randol said calmly, noticing Paul’s gaze linger on his missing arm.

“They said I could have reattached it if I wanted to. The cut was clean enough that there wouldn’t have been any problems gripping a sword again. But I chose not to.”

“Huh...? Why?”

“It was the continent’s greatest swordsman who took my arm. This stump is proof that I stood against him, that I clashed swords with him and lived to tell the tale. Is that not something to take pride in?”

Paul Hendt opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“This stump solidifies my resolve to become stronger.”

“Master Randol...”

“Don’t misunderstand. I hold no resentment toward my father,” Randol reassured with a faint smile.

Paul was bewildered. He had always known Randol as a quiet, reserved boy, and seeing such a natural, genuine expression on his face was startling. It felt out of place amid the surrounding carnage—yet it stirred something close to joy.

“Thanks to him, I was able to grow even stronger.”

Digon Twin Blade Technique - Second Form: Moonlit Gem

WHOOSH—!

Randol MacGovern leapt into the air, gripping his blade tightly. Even with only one arm, he stood unmatched.

Though Miliana had originally taught him dual-sword techniques, the loss of his left arm had forced Randol to adapt Digon’s swordsmanship into a new form that fit his circumstances. The Liberated Flame in his remaining hand roared like a living inferno, devouring the swarm of insects around him and reducing them to ash in mere seconds.

One of the key distinctions between a high-tier knight or mage and a Sword Master or Great Sorcerer was the ability to carve out a unique domain. This domain could stem from a family’s traditional swordsmanship or arise from an entirely original magical discipline.

What mattered was that it was wholly one’s own, Gordon Fabian’s Automata and Berchi Blano’s venomous magic being prime examples.

Randol was no exception. Though his style was rooted in Digon’s swordsmanship, he had reimagined its dual-sword technique into an external blade art uniquely his own.

“I commend you...”

Paul Hendt unwittingly bowed his head. Naturally, the emergence of a new Sword Master from the MacGovern family was a momentous occasion. It felt almost ironic that Randol, the one scorned for being both a commoner and of foreign descent, had risen above all expectations to eventually outshine his noble siblings.

Not only Sir Kuwell, but Martte and Elliot are here as well, Paul noticed. Although he hated war, he felt that perhaps this conflict might serve as an opportunity to reunite the fractured MacGovern family.

“Watch out!”

His reverie was shattered by the urgent cry of a subordinate.

Whooom... 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Darkness engulfed him. Realizing it was an oncoming swarm of insects, Paul let out a bitter chuckle.

What a fool I am...

How many times had he disgraced himself by letting his guard down like some amateur?

“Paul!” Randol cried out, but even his searing flames—which had already scorched thousands of Lice—weren’t enough to save Paul from the overwhelming swarm.

“NOOOO...!!!”

CRACKLE!

Suddenly, a dazzling light pierced through the swarm. For an instant, time itself seemed to halt as the blinding flash swallowed the battlefield whole.

BOOOOM...!!!

In the wake of the light came a thunderous explosion and a fierce shockwave that sent Randol hurtling backward. When he regained his footing and searched for Paul Hendt, all he saw were heaps of charred Lice.

“...What just happened?”

Randol stared blankly at the spot where Paul had been moments prior, unable to comprehend the turn of events.

“Excuse me,” said a voice from behind him.

Randol spun around to find Paul Hendt collapsed on the ground. His countenance was ashen, his eyes open wide.

Sizzle... Crackle...

Lingering lightning—golden in hue—crackled around them. A man stood behind Paul, gripping him by the collar to steady him, and gave Randol a slight nod of acknowledgment.

At the man’s waist hung two short swords, vibrating lightly in their sheaths.

WHOOSH...!!

The man vanished before Randol could even utter his name. His presence had been like a flash of lightning.