kscans

Chapter 181 - The Blade's Trajectory

—Ever since I was a child, I loved to swing a sword.

Of course, it wasn't a real blade I was wielding. I was simply immersed in the common sport of the "way of the sword."

However, it seemed my talent was anything but common.

No matter how harsh the training, it was never a burden. I mastered techniques faster than anyone around me, and in matches, I had no equal. From the first time I held a bamboo sword, it didn't take long for me to be hailed as a genius.

My striking looks also drew more and more attention as I grew older... and then came that summer day, just before the Inter-High tournament of my second year of high school.

The path of glory that connected my past and was supposed to continue into the future suddenly crumbled.

On the stairs of a pedestrian bridge, an elderly person walking in front of me missed a step.

Without a second thought, my body moved instinctively. The price for saving a life was a complex fracture in my left hand. It was a severe injury, leaving me with after-effects that cost me most of my grip strength.

I had regrets about not being able to move more skillfully, but I had no regrets about my actions. I was proud that I could act without hesitation, and there were many people who supported me on my now-closed path.

I just felt a little sad that I could no longer swing the sword I loved. While diligently working on my rehabilitation, I spent some time in peace—

And then the day of our meeting—no, our encounter through a screen—arrived.

Even after transitioning from a competitor to a spectator, my passion never faded. In my daily search for match videos and articles... I found myself drawn to the word 'Sword Saint,' which had started appearing in the predictive text whenever I typed 'sword' into the search box.

It wasn't a particularly unusual word in itself. Is it from some popular manga or something? I thought, casually looking into it. As it turned out, it was from a game called Arcadia, which was all the rage at the time.

'Sword Saint' referred to a supposedly very strong player in this one-and-only virtual world... they said she was a master of the sword with no equal.

Honestly, back then, I saw Arcadia as nothing more than a game, and I remember snickering at the countless words of praise for this 'Sword Saint.'

—Her swordsmanship surpasses even the 'Princess.'

—A literal one-woman army.

—The strongest sword user.

—The legal loli Sword Saint.

While the bit about the 'Princess' and the last one made me tilt my head, the common feeling I had was nothing but disdain.

—It's just some player in a game. I scoffed, and following the links online, I played a certain video...

It didn't even take a few minutes for my casual disdain to turn into regret, and for me to be consumed by the greatest admiration of my life.

In the center of the screen was a small figure, facing a group of no less than fifty warriors. In the midst of this scene, which looked just like something out of a manga or anime, the sword she wielded was the most tangible and real thing there.

A game?—Not at all. She was swinging her sword with all her might.

A game?—No. She was a swordswoman, swinging her sword in that world.

It was breathtakingly beautiful. And—breathtakingly frustrating.

Reality or virtual world, flesh and blood or avatar—none of that mattered. I recognized that as a swordswoman, I had been utterly defeated by her very being.

I wanted to swing a sword again.

I looked at my left hand, which wouldn't move properly—and I knew exactly where I had to go to do so.

One year later. With the funds I earned by working tirelessly alongside my studies, and with the help of my parents, whom I begged for the first time in my life, I somehow managed to cover the biggest hurdle: the cost.

I passed the screening without any issues and stepped into the virtual world. Things moved quickly after that.

My innate sense for the sword proved useful in the virtual world, where you play by physically moving your body. Sometimes solo, sometimes jumping between parties, I broke through the tutorial area in a little over two months.

By that time, it didn't take long for me to reach her, who had opened her dojo gates wide.

'She,' whom I finally had the chance to meet, was not only skilled with the sword but also a person whose character was worthy of admiration, despite her youth. The several months that followed, as I became her student and absorbed her teachings with single-minded focus, were, without exaggeration, the best days of my life.

I have a tendency to lose sight of everything else when I get engrossed in one thing.

Simply to swing my sword. With my eyes fixed on nothing but myself, my teacher, and my blade, the days flew by—

And then, I suddenly snapped back to reality and realized.

I had become the only student who continued to attend her dojo.

And that even I had failed to inherit a single technique from her.

Her sword style—the core of Kesshiki Itto, a transcendent technique called 'Shukuchi.'

And to achieve it, one must completely master the incomprehensible concepts of 'inner' and 'outer' forces.

It was not something an ordinary person could easily accomplish... which is why many gave up early and left. That was the norm, and my staying behind made me the anomaly.

Pathetic fools, no guts—as soon as I thought that, I realized something else. Leaving or staying, that was their choice.

Because this was a game, after all.

Arcadia was just Arcadia, and the virtual world itself would never transcend the realm of entertainment.

The only thing that could make it 'real' was the will of the player—like the Sword Saint I saw on the screen that day.

What welled up inside me was acceptance, and a fierce rebellious spirit.

No matter who else gave up, I would absolutely master her technique.

I would master it, polish it further on my own, and one day, I would stand by her side. I swore it strongly—and a few days later, I acquired a certain skill.

Its name was 'Extended Step'—a movement skill.

It twisted the phenomenon of 'taking one step,' greatly extending the distance of that movement... Whatever the detailed effect, it looked exactly like teleportation.

It was the same kind of high-speed movement as 'Shukuchi.'

In Arcadia, 'skills' are generally supernatural powers granted by the system to allow players to do things they can't achieve on their own.

Yes, things players can't achieve on their own.

In other words, I, who had been granted a skill by the system to replicate a movement that would be possible with just my own body if I mastered 'Shukuchi'—was told by this virtual world that I could never master that technique.