"What is wrong with you?! Is attacking people without warning your hobby?!"
...Who is this guy?
If he could cut through a technique forged from the Blood Path so effortlessly… then he's no ordinary warrior.
Especially since the technique came from me — which can only mean one thing: He's a warrior of the Supreme Sovereignty.
The difference between Sovereignty and Supreme Sovereignty is that the latter wields a Path that nourishes them… And to cut through, or even resist, someone else's Path — you must possess one yourself.
But looking at him again… he seems to be in his thirties. Hair a deep blue with hints of black and white, crimson eyes, three differently sized swords on his back, and a proud, aloof gaze.
What truly caught my attention, though, was the energy swirling around him the moment he unsheathed his sword—
It's definitely Sword Intent… but I've never seen anything quite like it.
A Half-Virtue?
A Half-Virtue with that level of control over his energy…?
Back to that Sword Intent—
It slightly resembles my own Starry Sword Intent, but the energy particles around him take on geometric shapes and their colors are mesmerizing to the eye…
As if his Sword Intent is a manifestation of physics itself — though the laws of physics clearly don't apply to Sword Intent.
How strange…
"So… why were you following me?"
He radiates no hostility, and yet, just seeing him makes my blood boil with a desire to challenge him.
"Following you? This gentleman was merely… curious. And that doesn't happen often~"
Curious?
Ah, I see.
"So, you've been trailing me ever since I set foot on this continent… am I wrong?"
His serious expression faltered — a clear hit.
"Anyone would be curious about a raging Sword Intent like yours. At first, I thought you were just another fool bragging about his achievements… but when I saw you, you acted as if nothing unusual was happening."
I did expect my Sword Intent to attract attention — it already drew the queen from the Warrior Kingdom — but to draw a monster like this…
Looks like I'll finally enjoy a proper fight.
"Alright then, enough talking. Swordsmen speak with their blades, am I right?"
"Indeed. The more I see, the more curious I get — and I'll get my answers through the sword."
He took a stance that sealed all his previous openings, suppressing his Sword Intent as if to say: "Let's see the quality of your fundamentals."
I drew my sword from my void storage and took my stance — one I hadn't used in ages.
"Telodeos, of the Continent of Joy."
"I've long forgotten my name. But people call me… the Sword Saint~"
The Sword Saint…! Just as I thought — this is the thrill I've been craving!
We stood facing each other. No sound but the gentle breeze passing between us, as if it, too, watched with bated breath.
He moved his wrist — a single, simple strike. Sharp, almost like a whisper from an invisible blade.
I parried it with a precise angle, our blades sparking slightly. I heard no sound — but my bones trembled.
Hmph… quick~
Neither of us had used any energy yet. As if by silent agreement, we kept to pure swordsmanship.
Still, every strike carried deep understanding of the Sword Path.
His defense showed no hesitation; his attacks felt innate to his body…
As expected —
The Sword Saint isn't just strong — he's a genius.
He reacted before my attacks fully formed, as if he could see the future in my sword.
Such mastery comes not only from experience, but from talent too.
But I, Telodeos, didn't spend countless lifetimes learning thousands of techniques for nothing.
I began weaving complex sequences of attacks — fragmented strikes with shifting angles — all hidden within a subtle rhythm.
My blade danced like an ancient ritual…
His eyes narrowed — then he smiled.
"Yes… that's what I want."
At least I wasn't the only one enjoying this fight.
He raised his sword and struck again — a purely offensive form. His techniques held subtle cracks… intentional gaps meant to lure and crush.
…
Minutes passed. We exchanged over three hundred strikes.
The forest ground and the plains beneath us began to groan. Leaves tore from the trees from invisible blades.
I let out a sliver of Sword Energy — just a thin thread around my blade…
He followed — with an even finer thread.
Our strikes turned into flashes of light — each clash ringing with a pitch that pierced the ears.
"Hmm… perhaps we should raise the stakes a little?" I said with a smile.
The Sword Saint nodded — and both of us released our Sword Auras at once.
The air exploded between us!
Trees behind him split in two. Space behind me rippled — as if time itself bent.
I could've attacked from afar — but I stepped closer.
This wasn't a battle of energy — but a conversation between swords.
We were both fully immersed in our Sword Auras… but then I noticed something…
The Sword Saint was matching me — but his strikes grew less stable. Slightly off in some angles. As if he'd never fought someone with my exact style.
He's a genius… but lacks experience.
I increased the pressure, shifting my rhythm every two seconds, blending in ancient, forgotten forms of swordsmanship.
He smiled — but stepped back.
"Aren't you going to use your Sword Intent?"
I replied, returning to a stance that must've looked like a single droplet about to fall.
"There's still time. I'd rather know my opponent well before overexerting myself~"
He paused… then whispered:
"Then so be it. I'll go first."
In that moment, a Sword Intent unlike anything I'd ever seen erupted from him—
Everything stopped.
The aura around my sword recoiled instinctively… as if sensing danger.
The air thickened. My blade trembled.
Incredible…
Astounding! Yes… this is what I've longed for!
"This… is the Sword Intent I spent decades forging."
〔Sword Path – Law-Erasing Sword Intent〕
The particles around him morphed into complex geometries, distorting light — as if nature's very laws unraveled before them.
If my Sword Intent represents the power of stars and their order…
His Sword Intent erases those very laws…
What a shame…
If only I had met you earlier…
〔Sword Path – Starry Sword Intent〕
The moment my Sword Intent poured into my aging blade — already at its limit—
It shattered.
But now's not the time to mourn you, my friend…
Let's end this properly.
I truly enjoyed this long journey with you, my dear sword.
〔Law-Cutter〕
〔Galaxy's Descent〕
The sky changed — day turned to night.
The heavens cracked like a weeping child. Star energy melted into the void.
And then — a drop of pure, celestial Sword Intent began to fall.
The ground split open. Golden swords sprouted, awe-inspiring.
They soared toward the falling drop.
And at the moment of contact—
Silence.
We heard nothing. As if we'd entered a sealed time-bubble.
The wind halted. The shimmer of light froze midair. Even our breaths vanished.
The drop hung, glowing softly, encircled by the golden swords with silent reverence.
Then — the tension didn't break with a blast, but with a ripple in time. A fold in space.
And all of it vanished — as if it had never been.
It took minutes to even comprehend what we'd just witnessed.
We glanced at each other — then burst out laughing at the absurdity of it.
"That was fun~"
Really... That was truly fun~
...
We weren't truly exhausted, yet we sat facing each other, as if ready to discuss everything that just unfolded.
I turned slightly and saw Kugssa waving from afar. I nodded — telling her to stay back a little longer.
The Sword Saint crouched, resting his sword on his knees, gently wiping it.
While all that remained of my sword… was the hilt.
He looked at me and whispered:
"Was it a good companion?"
I smiled.
"I doubt I'll ever find another like it. It obeyed without a single complaint. Followed me, my whims, all the way here — as if it enjoyed it too."
"You speak as if the sword had a soul…"
I was surprised by his words.
Was he trying to lighten the mood… or was he serious, without knowing it?
"When is a sword born?"
I asked as I looked down at the hilt in my hands, as if bidding it farewell.
"When it's forged? When it's first wielded? Or when it's stained with blood?"
He was silent for a moment, then softly replied:
"No… it's born when it finds a heart that believes in it."
"Yes. Until then, it's just a sharp tool. It becomes something more only when someone trusts it."
I dug into the earth, spreading the soil with both hands.
"When does a sword's soul awaken?"
Then I planted the hilt in the ground — a final resting place.
I asked while brushing the last grains of dirt from my fingers.
He didn't answer — but the silence was enough. As if the land itself pondered alongside him.
I stood, eyes fixed on the buried hilt, and spoke:
"When it breaks for your sake… not because of you're Death."
The Sword Saint understood exactly what I meant.
As a fellow swordsman — he knew what a blade truly represents. Its purpose. Its reason for being.
A sword that cannot protect its master… is meaningless.
Silence lingered.
Then he asked:
"Then how can one know a sword's feelings if its soul only awakens once it breaks for them?"
I replied with a question of my own:
"Tell me… what does Sword Intent mean to you?"