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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Qualifications
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"Cough."
Right after he lightly parted his lips.
What came pouring out was a vivid crimson foreign substance mixed with fresh blood.
Proof of internal injuries so severe that without immediate treatment, his life hung in the balance.
But Lee Cheongi paid it no mind at all.
It wasn't just because he'd anticipated this outcome from the moment he pushed [Overlord] beyond its limits, stacking a thousand skills in that insane gambit.
There was a far more pressing issue.
"Wh...at the hell."
Lee Cheongi slowly raised his head.
And fixed his bloodshot eyes on the white-haired man standing before him.
He ground out the words at Rimon, chewing on each one.
"What was that?"
What he'd seen before collapsing.
The power that melted away a thousand skills—everything he'd squeezed out—like morning dew under the sunlight.
Light that wasn't particularly fast or strong, yet impossible to dodge or block.
The identity of that trajectory, so beautiful it bordered on ecstatic.
Rimon answered Lee Cheongi's question.
"The Demon Dragon Slaying Sword."
"Don't lie to me. There's no such technique in the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword!"
Lee Cheongi shot back with barely contained fury.
Thanks to [Skill Acquisition], he'd learned not only the original Demon Dragon Slaying Sword but even some of Rimon's refinements.
Which was why he could state it with certainty.
That wasn't the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword.
There was no such outrageous sword form in it, and even for Rimon, creating one in that brief moment was impossible.
Rimon sneered at Lee Cheongi as if the idea was absurd.
"Anyone hearing you might think the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword was your sword art."
"At least excluding you, no one knows it better than I do."
"Well, when it comes to swordsmanship knowledge, maybe."
Rimon didn't deny it outright.
Even if it was thanks to a cheat skill called [Skill Acquisition], it was true that Lee Cheongi had properly stolen and learned his sword art.
With a few prerequisites, that is.
"If we're just talking swordsmanship."
"...What do you mean by that?"
As if sensing the subtle implication in that response.
Lee Cheongi spat up another mouthful of blood but pressed on.
Rimon took a step toward him.
Then slowly bent down, picked up the treasured sword Lee Cheongi had dropped upon collapsing, and spoke.
"Honestly, I was a little impressed. It's been a while since I've seen someone steal my swordsmanship after seeing it just once."
"So there have been others who could do that besides me?"
"Look at this arrogant bastard. Did you think no one else could do what you pulled off?"
"..."
Rimon smirked as Lee Cheongi furrowed his brow, struck right at his core.
Lee Cheongi's unique skill, [Skill Acquisition].
The skill that stole any technique was undoubtedly impressive.
But for Rimon, at least, having his swordsmanship stolen wasn't exactly a novel experience.
"Well, guys like that are rare, sure. Even among so-called geniuses, only a handful could pull it off."
In any era, any age.
True geniuses who transcended common sense always existed.
Sword geniuses in particular always sought out Rimon at least once, and a few had even mastered the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword in a single go.
"So when you mimicked my sword art, I had some expectations. About how well you'd steal the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword."
Before the constellations appeared in the world.
In the era when Sword Masters were absolute.
Many sought to learn the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword, and Rimon taught them generously.
It was his duty as the lord of the Sword Tower, the holy site of swordsmanship.
But after the Iron Age dawned.
The Sword Tower went bankrupt from operating losses.
Those seeking his teachings vanished.
Even people who remembered the name of his sword art, the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword, became rare.
And now, a monarch—not just anyone—was using skills to deliberately steal his sword art.
Truly ironic.
And nostalgic, too.
Enough that Rimon, returning to his role as Sword Tower lord after so long, had refined and demonstrated his swordsmanship as a lesson.
Though the result was disappointing.
"Well, in the end, you never truly understood the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword."
"What part of the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword don't I know?"
"What don't you know... Asking like that, it almost sounds like you think you know my sword art inside and out."
"Of course I do."
Lee Cheongi declared confidently.
[Skill Acquisition] was an absolute skill.
Having acquired the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword through it, there couldn't possibly be any form he didn't know.
"Ah, really?"
Rimon chuckled at the response.
Then, examining Lee Cheongi's treasured sword closely, he asked casually.
"Then do you know the principles of the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword?"
"What principles?"
"Why it's wielded with one hand. Why it lets you read your opponent's movements. Why you grip and swing the sword in specific ways at specific times."
"That's..."
Lee Cheongi felt his words catch in his throat for a moment.
[Skill Acquisition] had taught him everything about the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword.
But only when and which forms to use.
Not why.
If it were ordinary swordsmanship, he could have analyzed it with skills like [Swordsmanship Theory] or [Expert of All Things].
But the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword was far too profound for such trivial skills to grasp.
"Then what about its purpose? Who created it for what goal? Its history, the efforts poured into perfecting it—do you know any of that?"
Once again, he had no answer.
He hadn't even known it was the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword before acquiring it via skill; of course he didn't know such details.
"Why are you talking about things unrelated to the swordsmanship now?"
In the end, all Lee Cheongi could muster was a curt question.
A rebuttal demanding he stop derailing the topic.
Rimon answered calmly.
"Because that's why you stole the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword and still couldn't rise above mere imitation."
"...So you're saying my swordsmanship is just imitation?"
"Yes."
Rimon nodded.
And like consoling an injured woman.
He gently caressed Lee Cheongi's treasured sword with his fingers and spoke languidly.
"If you'd understood its principles, you wouldn't have needed to keep stealing it no matter how many times I refined it."
It was like academia.
No matter how a shape changed, grasp the formula and you could calculate its area.
No matter how substances mixed, understand chemistry and predict the outcome.
Swordsmanship was ultimately just a form.
Grasp its principles, and one sword art could manifest a thousand forms, rivaling ten thousand techniques.
"And if you'd read the meaning within the swordsmanship, you'd have recognized my final strike as the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword at a glance."
The first Sword Master.
The Dragon Slaying Sword, created by the Sword Emperor to slay the seven dragons.
Refined by Rimon over long years, perfected in his deathmatch with the demon god.
The crystallization of a mere human's desperate obsession to shoulder the world's fate and confront transcendent beings—heart-wrenching sorrow and great will.
Demon Dragon Slaying Sword.
One who couldn't even sense its meaning upon seeing it could never wield this sword properly.
Speaking calmly, Rimon sneered.
"Swordsmanship without sword principles or sword intent is just an empty shell. So what else would you call it but imitation?"
Lee Cheongi had indeed acquired the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword.
And grown much stronger for it.
But in Rimon's eyes?
It was like giving a caveman a smartphone; he uses it as a mirror and pats himself on the back.
No, that's too pitiful—call it a shiny rock?
Either way, he didn't know its essence or principles, not even how to use it properly.
There was that vast a gap between the Demon Dragon Slaying Sword imbued with sword principles and intent, and swordsmanship stripped of them.
Yet this era's supposed absolute, the monarch, prattled on as if he'd mastered it without knowing that.
Rimon couldn't help but feel disappointed.
"Well, you're all like that anyway."
It wasn't unique to Lee Cheongi.
Most players were the same.
"Thinking skills are everything while neglecting everything else."
They dream of becoming swordsmen but contract with constellations for swordsmanship skills instead of learning swordsmanship.
Feeling deficient in swordsmanship, they seek better skills rather than swinging a sword to hone themselves.
Lacking strength, they raid dungeons for strength-boosting gear or level up instead of training muscles.
They believe skills and levels define human worth, making those their life's goal.
They take what's given for granted, never questioning its origins or creation.
And treat it as common sense, scoffing at anything that doesn't fit their standards as outdated.
At least, that's what Rimon had seen in players.
"In that sense, you're at least flexible."
It wasn't sarcasm.
In this era, Rimon was treated as a relic.
The idea of the players' pinnacle, a monarch, trying to acquire his swordsmanship was impressive in itself.
Others would think Lee Cheongi was some freak testing if dog shit could be medicine.
Rimon chuckled as he spoke.
Lee Cheongi groaned in response.
"Do you... deny the existence of players?"
"What can I do, denying the era's changes?"
Rimon shrugged.
He had no intention of denying skills or players.
Just as monarchies fell to democracy, carriages to cars.
Players were part of the era's flow.
If he rejected all change, he'd have to hole up in some folk village, shunning modern tech and culture.
"Just that you don't automatically have the right to dismiss the old as worthless."
They belittle swordsmanship earned through blood and sweat because it's not a skill.
Mock the Sword Emperor, who sacrificed for humanity's liberation, as weak for dying without being a player.
Sneer at titles passed down centuries to honor the Sword Emperor and heroes as cringy chuunibyou nonsense.
Disdain heroes who saved nations and the world multiple times as outdated relics.
In the old days, that would topple kingdoms.
Forget the internet.
They'd pay in blood for such insults.
Especially after hearing similar drivel hundreds of times to his face.
"If you really want to act that way, fine."
But Rimon didn't.
He simply lifted his fingers from caressing Lee Cheongi's treasured sword and continued calmly.
"But if I may say one thing, knowing it'll sound like an old man's ramblings."
Crack.
The moment Rimon opened his mouth.
A single crack appeared in Lee Cheongi's treasured sword.
The fissure from the tip spread across the blade; the once-beautiful sword shattered into metal fragments, scattering to the ground.
Like gazing at the remains of a pitiful woman who'd given everything to protect her lover, only to be discarded.
Rimon looked at the sword's ruins with lonely eyes and concluded.
"I don't think wretches like you, swayed by trivial skills and deaf to your own sword's screams, have any right to judge my swordsmanship."
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