WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reincarnation of the Sword Demon

Chapter 20

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A Higher Baseline

Honestly. A little.

No, a lot. Completely floored. What kind of swordsmanship was this, where swinging a blade sent cold air bursting out and ice flowers blooming? And it hadn't been just a flash, either. The ice flowers and the ice cross were still standing in the training ground.

"..."

His past life was already five hundred years ago. An enormous stretch of time, and mana and magic had woven themselves into the fabric of civilization since then. That the world would change, that swordsmanship would change, Kyle understood perfectly well.

But this went far beyond what he'd been prepared to understand. Five hundred years ago, when the Sword Demon was alive, producing phenomena like this through mana manipulation, things that felt almost miraculous, was the work of mages. Not warriors.

That wasn't to say mages were unconditionally superior to warriors. Only that warriors hadn't manipulated mana this way. Hadn't produced phenomena like this.

What a warrior could do was swing a weapon. Swing it, shatter magic, kill mages, kill people. Things like that.

'It looks similar to magic, but... it's still swordsmanship.'

Magic, and sword forms. He set down the five-hundred-year-old prejudice that kept them separate. Having gone so far as to reincarnate, burying himself in the past wasn't something he could afford. Kyle was open to new learning.

Especially when it involved a sword.

'Erika's blade carried aura. That was close to Sword Qi.'

Aura, refined into a cutting edge. Imperfect as it was, Erika's sword was clearly on the path toward Sword Qi. Which meant this magic-like swordsmanship wasn't fully tilted toward magic. A fusion of sword and magic, if anything.

"..."

While Kyle mulled it over with a serious expression, Erika worked to get her breathing under control.

'Why isn't there a reaction?'

She had squeezed out every last drop of mana to put on a demonstration, and the response she'd been expecting hadn't come. What Erika had wanted was her insufferable little nephew's gasp of amazement and a healthy dose of admiration for his auntie.

"Wow."

Kyle finally spoke, feeling her eyes on him. It wasn't a hollow exclamation. He'd meant it, genuinely.

Just not in the direction Erika had hoped for.

'Swordsmanship has really changed.'

Inside Kyle lived the Sword Demon, who had defined an era five hundred years past. He had died in defeat, yes, but in that life there had been far more victories than losses. He felt no shame about how it ended. His opponent had been Ruin Alastor, without question the greatest swordsman the Sword Demon had ever faced. The man who ended forty years of darkness and reshaped the world, still revered as the Sword Saint five hundred years on, a legendary figure said to have ascended to the heavens. The Sword Demon had been someone Ruin remembered all the way to his final ascent. But beyond that kind of legacy, the Sword Demon had simply loved the sword. He was proud of every blade he had swung, from first to last.

But.

He had never believed his swordsmanship was unconditionally the finest. The absolute peak.

The world was wide.

He had loved the sword, and yet he had never seen its end.

By grace he hadn't earned, he carried his memories whole into this life. Reborn into conditions better suited to learning the sword, to loving it, than anything he could have wished for. The family might belong to the man who killed him five hundred years ago, but not a drop of resentment sat in his chest for Ruin Alastor.

'They kept Fenris well, too.'

Five hundred years. An era transformed by time. Strange talk of mana cultivation methods and spirit roots. And now Erika's blade, seen with his own eyes.

The Sword Demon accepted it plainly. The world had changed too much across all those years. Techniques had changed. People had changed. Mana and magic were no longer foreign things, so they had melted into the sword.

The baseline of this era was simply higher than the one he had lived through.

In the past, crossing the line of death over and over was the price you paid for the Blessing of Mana. Now, a child awakened their spirit root at ten, learned a mana cultivation method, and pulled aura from thin air. Erika was thirteen and already closing in on Sword Qi.

In a world like this.

Lamenting how much things had changed would be a waste. He was glad they had. The Sword Demon had never believed his sword was unconditionally superior to what this age could offer. He'd rather this era's swordsmanship be better.

Because that made it more fun to learn. More satisfying to cut through.

"Wow...!"

The exclamation came again, even more genuine than the first.

How far will my sword carry in this era. How much more can I learn, and add, and build into it.

That anticipation became excitement and flushed the boy's cheeks red. Kyle clenched his fist and stared up at Erika.

"Auntie. Show me the sword one more time."

"Wh, what?"

The demand made Erika's eyes go wide. She'd finally gotten her gasp of wonder, but this she couldn't answer. Her mana was nearly gone.

"R, right now I can't. Later, I'll show you later."

"Why?"

"I, I used it all up..."

She gave a dry cough and lowered her sword.

"So, next time, alright? Got it?"

"Yes, I got it."

Mana exhaustion. Kyle nodded to himself. Of course it would drain fast after putting on a spectacle like that. And judging from how unstable the Sword Qi had been, her mana control wasn't quite there yet either.

"So. What did you think?"

Erika slid her sword into its sheath.

"It was gorgeous. Really pretty."

Kyle answered honestly. Gorgeous and pretty. Was it suited to killing? Was it practically effective? Hard to say. Maybe it would look different against a real opponent, but the sword Erika had swung carried no killing intent at all.

'Then again, it'd be a problem if a thirteen-year-old's sword was soaked in bloodlust.'

That belonged to the Dark Age, when killing was more routine than eating a meal.

"Hm-hm-hmm, exactly."

"Gorgeous and pretty" was the kind of thing some people might find backhanded, but the corners of Erika's mouth stretched nearly to her ears.

"Well? Don't you want to learn it too? If you behave yourself from now on, your auntie just might teach you."

She'd barely finished before she laughed to herself.

"Ah, but I can't even if I wanted to. You haven't awakened your spirit root yet, you tiny thing! Too bad, really. Your auntie can swing a sword this gorgeous, and all you can manage is a wooden one."

"That's fine. Grandfather plays with me using wooden swords."

Erika's smile went stiff.

"Right before I came here today, we were playing with wooden swords together."

"P, playing? Wooden swords? With the Family Head?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Grandfather stands, and I attack him with the wooden sword. He blocks or dodges. Sometimes he counters."

"..."

"Afterward, he gives me feedback on how I'm swinging. I got a lot of praise today."

Erika's eyes trembled. Julius's youngest daughter, and yet outside of when she was very small, she had never crossed swords with Julius. She had always felt she shouldn't.

"Would you want to come with me next time, Auntie?"

When Erika's expression turned quiet and dim, Kyle stopped teasing and made the offer. Erika shook her head in a panic.

"I, I'm fine."

"Grandfather would be happy."

"No... no, I'm okay."

The way Kyle saw it, the people in this family were all fixated on the throne and not actually looking at the person sitting in it. That wasn't entirely their fault. Julius had a hand in it, no question.

But a throne was still just a person sitting in a chair. Julius was the sort who would actually talk to you, more than you'd expect, as long as you came to him without flinching.

'Well. I'm probably just getting special treatment because I'm remarkably capable for my age.'

Still, if his youngest daughter showed up wanting to play, he didn't seem like the type to turn her away at the door. The sight of Erika's drawn-in shoulders gave Kyle a quiet pang.

He wasn't the only one.

Arian was watching Erika with the same soft, sorry look.

"Do you remember what I said this morning? About your grandmother."

Back at the Rose Mansion, after dinner at Erika's house. Kyle was in bed, fresh from his bath, and Arian sat beside him running her fingers through his hair.

"I said your grandmother fell into a deep sleep ten years ago. Erika was only three then."

Kyle blinked slowly and looked up at her.

"Your grandfather was always a difficult man to approach, but your grandmother was different. As cold as he is, she was that warm. Honestly, your uncles and aunts all preferred her to him. So did I."

A faint smile as she looked back.

"So when Grandmother fell asleep, the atmosphere around Grandfather turned terribly dark. Most of the knights of Gladiheim, your uncles included, went out into the world, all of them bent on finding a cure for her illness."

"..."

"The Sword Tower is quiet and gloomy now, but back then it was even quieter. Even darker."

Arian had been nineteen at the time. Her younger brother Roel was sixteen, Seros was ten. And Erika was three.

"I wasn't yet an adult, so I stayed behind in the Sword Tower. That's why Erika is so fond of me. I tried hard to fill the space Grandmother left."

"What about Grandfather?"

"Grandfather... barely came down from the tenth floor. He stayed at Grandmother's side while she slept, trying in his own way to find a solution."

"They must have been very close."

"Ha, of course they were. Nine children, including me. It'd be strange if they weren't."

Arian laughed softly and kept her fingers moving through Kyle's hair.

"From where I stood, Grandmother did a tremendous amount of understanding when it came to Grandfather. He's gentled a little with age, but the Grandfather of back then was terrifying and cold. She always smiled around him anyway. I wanted to be like that too, but... marriage doesn't really go the way you imagine."

Arian, at least, wasn't someone who could accept every stubborn streak of a husband's the way her mother had.

"It's not entirely your mom's fault, but your father was more to blame. He left nothing but a letter before going into seclusion, and it's been five years with no sign of him coming out. Don't you think?"

"Well... that's true."

The story about Erika had drifted naturally into complaints about a father Kyle had never met. Still, he nodded along.

Going into seclusion for the sword was something he could understand, as someone who loved it. But staying sealed away for five years with a wife like Arian waiting outside, that deserved every complaint it got.

"Ahem... I seem to have started complaining about your father. Anyway. What I meant to say was that Erika was very lonely."

Three years old, and her mother fell into a sleep she wouldn't wake from. Most of her older brothers and sisters had left the tower. Her father had sealed himself away beside her sleeping mother.

She had an insufferable streak, no denying it. For those circumstances, though, she'd turned out well.

"So, Kyle. Get along with your auntie, alright?"

"I'd like it if she got along with Grandfather too, not just with me."

"Mm. I'd like that as well, but Erika is just so frightened of him, she finds him too overwhelming..."

"Would it be alright if I mentioned Erika to Grandfather tomorrow?"

Kyle asked with wide eyes. Arian blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"How is my son's heart this kind? What are you planning to say?"

"If I tell Grandfather about Erika's sword today, wouldn't he get curious and call her over himself?"

"Hmm. I'm not sure about that. Grandfather's standards for swordsmanship are very high."

"He gave me plenty of praise."

"That's because you're small and adorable. You can't help but dote on you. You're my little angel."

Peck, peck, peck. Arian's lips tapped against his forehead.

"Then I'll just tell him I want Auntie to come because I want to play with her."

"You're precious, so precious! Pretty face, kind heart, you're perfect!"

"I'd rather be cool than pretty."

"You are cool! Look how handsome you already are! When you grow up, you're going to cause such a stir!"

Peck, peck, peck, peck, peck. Under the rain of kisses, Kyle gave up resisting and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Does the spirit root always come at exactly ten?"

Eyes still closed. Seeing Erika's sword today had made him want to start on mana cultivation and sword forms sooner.

"Yes. A person awakens their spirit root exactly ten years from the day they were born. So you'll awaken yours on your tenth birthday."

That struck Kyle as strange. Five hundred years ago, when he had lived as the Sword Demon, something called a spirit root hadn't existed. Maybe it had been there and he simply hadn't known, but at the very least, it hadn't been something every person awakened, the way it was now. Back then, what you needed to handle mana wasn't a spirit root but years of accumulated experience.

And yet in this world, ten years from birth, everyone awakened a spirit root and gained the ability to work with mana. Five hundred years was a long time, but the idea that all of humanity had evolved this way was unsettling in every sense.

"Don't be too impatient. You'll definitely have the talent for spirit arts as well, so once you awaken your spirit root, combining spirit arts with mana cultivation will boost your efficiency enormously."

"Spirit arts..."

Arian seemed to be trying not to push, but Kyle could feel the quiet longing underneath it.

"How do you learn spirit arts?"

"You want to learn spirit arts?!"

"I'm not uninterested."

The fact that Kyle was showing even a flicker of interest lit Arian up from the inside. Just yesterday he'd been indifferent to the whole subject.

"In spirit arts, the most important thing is feeling spirits and connecting with them. To contract a wind spirit, for instance, you have to spend a lot of time in communion with the wind."

Arian pulled him close and whispered.

"For me, it happened like this. When I was little, I saw a small bird in the wind. Other people couldn't see it the way I could. That's what spirit talent looks like."

"A bird..."

"At first you can only see it, not touch it. But the more I connected with the wind, I was eventually able to reach out and touch the bird. And I got closer to it by giving it food, which is to say, mana."

"Like a pet."

"Shh."

Arian's voice dropped.

"Spirits don't like being thought of as pets. They're older beings than humans. They may not be emotionally mature, but you still can't treat them like pets. Understood?"

"Yes."

Kyle answered in a drowsy voice. It was getting late. Arian smiled at that, then resumed the kiss campaign.

Peck, peck, peck, peck.

"I'll tell you more about spirit arts next time. Starting with how to commune with them. It's too late tonight, so let's get some sleep. You have to see Grandfather again tomorrow."

"Yes."

Kyle blinked his heavy eyelids and murmured.

"Tomorrow, I'll invite Auntie too..."

"Oh! Why is my son so sweet and wonderful!"

Peck peck peck peck peck...

Kyle gave up resisting and surrendered to sleep.

That night.

His cheek prickled. Not quite a tickle, more of a sting. At first he thought a bug had landed on him and ignored it, but it kept on, and eventually he had no choice but to open his eyes.

"Mom?"

Arian was nowhere to be seen. Strange. He rubbed his cheek and squinted into the dark, still half asleep.

Crack.

A violet spark split the darkness. Kyle jolted upright. A thread of purple light drifted through the air, circling in front of his eyes.

'What is this?'

He watched it, confused. Focusing, he made out a shape inside the light.

A small snake. Purple, woven from living electricity. It squirmed and stared straight at him.

"What are you?"

He reached a finger toward it. The snake, as if it had been waiting, coiled around his finger with a wriggle.

Zap.

Like being shocked. No, it was being shocked, exactly that. A sharp, buzzing sensation climbed from his fingertip up through his hand. At the same moment, the necklace at his throat gave off the same tingle.

'Ah.'

Kyle understood what the purple wriggling thing in front of him was. The thunder stone necklace Julius had sent as a gift. A gemstone imbued with the essence of lightning, said to raise one's affinity for thunder energy simply by wearing it.

"Are you a spirit?"

He tilted his head and asked. Whether it understood the question or not, the snake wriggled and coiled more tightly around his finger. The initial shock had been enough to make him flinch, but now the tingling had faded completely.

The purple snake that appears to Kyle at the end of the chapter is a lightning spirit, drawn out by the thunder stone Julius gave him. This mirrors Arian's account of first seeing a wind bird as a child, the earliest sign of her spirit affinity. Where Arian's affinity runs to wind, Kyle's appears to run to lightning, which is worth noting as a parallel the author seems to be establishing deliberately.

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