WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Reincarnation of the Sword Demon

Chapter 21

──────

The Process of Becoming Sharp

Kyle climbed out of bed and grabbed the wooden sword propped against the wall. The spirit had shown up without being called and coiled itself around him. It had startled him, but since things had already turned out this way, he wanted to test something he'd been turning over in his head since it first appeared.

Crackle!

No direct command necessary. The snake wound itself around the tip of the wooden sword exactly as he'd wished, as if it had read his mind. Tiny thing, no bigger than a finger joint, so that was about the extent of what it could do. Still, it had gone where he wanted. Kyle grinned.

He swung the wooden sword a few times where he stood. Purple sparks scattered along its path. After several more swings, he headed out of the room.

"Young master?"

A Rose Mansion maid stepped into his path almost immediately after the door opened. She tilted her head at the wooden sword in his hand.

"You're still awake? What are you..."
"Look at this."

Kyle held out the hand he'd been hiding behind his back. The violet current curling around his index finger made the maid jump.

"Y-young master? What on earth is..."
"What does it look like to you?"
"It... looks like light."

She stumbled over the words. Other people apparently couldn't make out the snake's shape at all. Kyle nodded and tucked his hand behind his back again.

"I want to show Mom."

He passed the maid and knocked on Arian's bedroom door, but got no answer. She must have already fallen deep asleep. Rather than knock a second time, Kyle simply turned the handle and slipped inside.

Arian was sleeping soundly in the large bed. He crept over and shook her shoulder.

"Mom."
"Mmm... Kyle...?"

Her eyes opened, heavy with sleep. A faint smile crossed her face the moment she saw him.

"What is it? Bad dream?"
"No. Look at this."

He held his index finger up in front of her face, the snake coiled around it.

"Hm? What's that... Oh?!"

Her eyes flew wide. The sleep vanished all at once and she shot upright in bed.

"Is, is this... a lightning spirit?"

Her gaze locked onto Kyle's finger. The maid had seen nothing but light, but Arian's eyes, trained in spirit arts, caught every detail: the small serpent's shape flickering inside that violet current, tongue darting out.

"You've never been taught spirit summoning. How did you..."
"I don't know. I woke up because my cheek was stinging, and it was just there."

Unbothered.

"It's a spirit, right? When I tell it to come, it comes. When I tell it to go somewhere, it goes."

He wiggled his finger. The snake uncoiled in a lazy spiral, made one loop through the air, then wound itself back around.

"Goodness..."

Arian couldn't close her mouth. At the same time, the spirit artist in her was already turning the question over: why had any of this happened?

The lightning spirit had come without lightning, drawn by the thunderstone necklace, but even that didn't fully make sense. The thunderstone was infused with the essence of lightning, yes, but that alone shouldn't have been enough to call a lightning spirit out of a clear sky.

Lightning spirits were rare. Lightning itself was a fleeting thing, gone in an instant. To find one, you had to go somewhere like the Southern Manroe Valley, where storms never stopped.

A lightning spirit drawn here by a thunderstone...?

Or maybe the morning dew of the lightning herb Kyle had drunk that day played some role? No. The effect of that dew was to sharpen reflexes, not to raise any affinity with lightning.

And it's actually listening to Kyle. How is this possible...

Meeting a spirit didn't guarantee a contract. Forming one required natural affinity as a baseline, then long hours of communion, a steady diet of mana. Even Arian herself had gone through all of that. As a child she had spent years listening to the voices of wind spirits and building a connection with them, steadily feeding mana stones until she earned the right to a contract.

And her son was already commanding a spirit he had met today. From where Arian stood, the lightning spirit looked like it was fawning on Kyle. She had been born with a genius-level gift for spirit arts, but she had never seen anything like this.

"Aaaaah!"

She swept Kyle up into a tight hug, overwhelmed.

"My son is actually a genius! To be honest, I wasn't completely sure yet whether you really had a talent for spirit arts, because a dokkaebi and a proper spirit are still different things..."

Now she was sure. Her son wasn't just gifted with the sword. His talent for spirit arts was just as extraordinary.

"And a lightning spirit drawn from a thunderstone this small. I've never even heard of anything like this. You haven't even formed a contract and the spirit is already listening to you!"
"Mom, I can't breathe."

Kyle squirmed, but Arian had no intention of letting go.

"And of all the spirits, a lightning one...! Grandfather is going to be so happy when he finds out!"

Julius Alastor's epithet was the Thunder Emperor. When Julius had given Kyle the thunderstone necklace, though he hadn't said it outright, his meaning was plain enough: his grandson would awaken the same spirit root he himself carried.

"Mom, let go for a second. I want to show you something."

Only then did Arian release him. Kyle held out the wooden sword in front of her bright, wide eyes.

Crackle.

The purple snake slid from his index finger and flew to the wooden sword. Kyle focused it at the tip and swung.

Crack! A violet arc traced itself across the air. Arian's mouth fell open. Not just a simple command, he was embedding the spirit into the blade and turning it into an attack?

"That's impossible..."

Spirits were pure, and demanding. You had to tame them through sustained communion and mana offerings, awaken your spirit root, form a contract, and even then perfect control was never guaranteed. Spirits were living creatures of mana, in the end.

He hasn't formed a contract, and the spirit is listening to him better than if he had. That can't be real...

Arian blinked herself out of her daze and stepped straight off the bed to open the desk drawer. A moment later she pulled out a small gem pulsing with faint blue light.

A mana stone. Crystallized mana, found in places where it ran dense, like deep forests or mountains. Kyle tilted his head as she handed it over.

"What's this for?"
"T-try feeding it to the spirit."

Kyle held the stone out to the snake. The snake lunged at it like it had been waiting, wrapped its body around the stone, and sank its tiny fangs in. The stone's light went out. The spirit's body grew, just barely, larger.

"Spirits... eat mana."

Arian managed the words in pieces.

"Normally you feed them your own mana to tame them, and that's how you build toward a contract... but you don't have a spirit root yet, so..."
"Does that mean I can't form a contract either?"
"Right... a contract is formed through the spirit artist's mana. That's how you build the link between you and call the spirit out..."

She trailed off. She had never heard of a spirit bonding this way without a contract. There was nothing to compare it to. In the meantime, the snake finished draining the mana stone, shook its tail in what looked like satisfaction, and slipped back inside the thunderstone hanging at Kyle's neck.

"Ha..."

Arian let out a helpless laugh. It hadn't dissolved into thin air. It had treated the thunderstone as its home. That spirit had no intention of leaving Kyle's side.

"From now on... feed the spirit a mana stone every once in a while. It'll grow a little at a time."
"Can't I give it one every day?"
"Then it might grow too large too quickly. Without a contract, that could get dangerous. Just occasionally."
"Do I need to give it a name?"
"No, spirits already have their own names. Once you form a contract, you'll learn what it is."

Arian steadied herself and stroked Kyle's hair.

"Really, since we came to Gladiheim, you just keep surprising me. If I'd known it would be like this, I would have shown you spirits sooner and come back here ages ago..."
"I'm glad we came when we did."

Now that he was five, his body at least moved the way he wanted it to. Come any earlier, and there would have been far too many moments of indignity. Kyle let out a wide yawn.

"I'm going back to sleep."
"My son! Want to sleep with Mom tonight, for old times' sake?"
"No. I'm sleeping alone."

Give her even an inch and Arian would drag him into bed by force.

Kyle answered before she could say another word and made a swift retreat from her bedroom.

The next day.

After breakfast, Kyle read the basic sword techniques manual he'd been gifted the day before, cover to cover.

True to its name, it was basic. Nothing in it was difficult. Every technique was something he had already mastered through real combat in his past life.

Manual finished, Kyle headed to the Sword Peak Hall. Down the corridor and a knock on the door; it opened immediately.

"You're back."

Julius spoke from the black iron throne. Kyle glanced briefly at Fenris buried in the center of the floor, then grinned at his grandfather.

"You're here again too, Grandfather."

Julius didn't normally spend his days in the Sword Peak Hall. This place was for pureblood council meetings, not everyday use.

But today, again, Julius had come down first. Quietly hoping his bright-eyed grandson would come to visit. Still, three days running in the Sword Peak Hall now, and it was time to draw a line.

"Starting now, don't come every day."
"Are you already bored of playing with me?"
"That's not what I mean. I have my own schedule, and my own training to attend to."

Playing with his grandson was a joy, but Julius was not the kind of grandfather who could afford to be idle. He smiled, a little rueful.

"Once a week, from now on."
"Aww..."
"There are plenty of people in the Sword Tower to spend time with besides me. Your cousins..."
"And Aunt Erika."
"Right."

Julius gave a small nod.

"I heard you went to Erika's residence yesterday."
"Yes. I got to see Aunt's swordsmanship."
"And? What did you think?"
"It was gorgeous. Beautiful to watch."
"Gorgeous and beautiful..."

Julius stroked his chin, smiling.

"Not sharp?"
"It seemed to be in the process of becoming sharp."
"Ha."

Far too precise an assessment, and far too martial, to be coming from a five-year-old's mouth. Julius studied Kyle.

The eye is open. No question.

Maybe his grandson was a far larger vessel than he had imagined. Julius let the thought settle and gave a slow nod.

"The process of becoming sharp, you said..."
"Let me show you."
"Show me? How?"
"The way I saw it yesterday."

Kyle said this and lifted the wooden sword, then grinned at Julius.

"There's something else I want to show you too."

Tap. Tap. He knocked his left fingers against the thunderstone at his neck. A violet flash crackled, and a small snake slipped out of the stone and coiled around his fingers.

Julius's eyes went wide. His hand tightened on the armrest of the throne.

"Is that... a spirit?"
"Yes. I met it yesterday."

Kyle pointed the finger with the snake toward the wooden sword. The snake flew through the air and wrapped around the tip.

"It's probably thanks to the necklace you gave me, Grandfather. We can't exactly talk, but it moves the way I want it to."
"Good heavens..."

Julius breathed a quiet laugh. He had no natural talent for spirit arts himself, but Arian had given him a fair amount of knowledge about the discipline over the years.

Which meant he understood precisely how extraordinary this was. And it was a thoroughly delightful kind of extraordinary. Genius-level talent. Alastor loved that kind of talent.

"Remarkable."

A lightning spirit, of all things. The smile at the corner of Julius's mouth refused to stay hidden. His grandson hadn't even awakened a spirit root yet, and already something of Julius's own nature had taken root in him.

"But what did you mean when you said you'd show me the way you saw it yesterday?"

Kyle didn't answer. He just smiled. Fzzzt...! He moved the wooden sword slowly, and violet carved itself into the air along its path. Kyle steadied his breathing and called up every movement Erika had shown him the day before.

The style was called Seolhwa Sword Style. He didn't know its inner principles. But every step and motion Erika had traced was still perfectly imprinted in his memory. Copying the form was something he could do without mana.

The wooden sword moved, leaving violet trails behind it. Three elixirs had reshaped this body far beyond what any five-year-old should be capable of, in strength and speed alike.

His feet found the floor of the Sword Peak Hall. Short strides, five-year-old strides, but the muscles sharpened by the blood demon tree fruit produced explosive speed.

The wooden sword began to dance. Not a thrust but a scatter. Not a cut but a drawing of lines. The elegant paths Erika had traced with the Seolhwa Sword Style, Kyle reproduced them flawlessly.

The only differences were the absence of aura, and the fact that what scattered in the air was violet sparks instead of white frost. Crackle, crackle! Lightning traces lingered where the blade had passed. Not ice blossoms, but lines of lightning drawn in their place.

"...!"

Julius's eyes wavered. The spirit tracing paths at Kyle's command was astonishing enough, but what astonished Julius more was the sword form Kyle was recreating.

He memorized every movement?

Imitation without mana, performed without any instruction. Even framed as nothing more than mimicry, the complex footwork and rhythms it demanded felt beyond what the word genius could adequately cover.

Fwoosh!

The final move. A cross-cut brought Kyle to a stop. The lightning cross hanging in the air crackled and scattered.

"Hoo..."

Kyle exhaled and lowered the wooden sword. The snake had worn itself out too, its light dimmed, writhing faintly on the blade.

"So? What do you think?"

He looked up at Julius.

"Mine is just a copy, so that's about as good as it gets. But Aunt's was genuinely beautiful. Ice blossoms burst everywhere, and every one of them was a blade."

Julius sat with it a moment, laying the image of ice blossoms and their edges over the movements he had just watched.

Beautiful. The movements were wide, full of excess. In moments that called for a cut, it drew a flower. In moments that called for a thrust, it danced.

But if those flowers were real. Truly sharp blades.

Julius's eyes narrowed. Control of space, hidden inside beauty. Let yourself get drawn in by that dancing movement and you'd find yourself surrounded, the blossoms closing on all sides before you even noticed.

"The process of becoming sharp. I understand what you meant."

Right now it was only beautiful, overblown, too many petals, a pretty flower and nothing more. But when those blossoms reached full bloom and grew their killing thorns, they would become a vicious trap that closed off an enemy's last breath.

"Right?"

Kyle grinned.

"She's not there yet, but a little more work and she'll be a real problem to deal with. That's what I thought."

A five-year-old calling his thirteen-year-old aunt not there yet. Julius found it absurd, and yet he nodded.

"That she would be. The direction is sound."
"What if you watched Aunt's swordsmanship directly?"

Kyle laid out what he'd been building toward. Julius tapped the armrest of the throne. Watching his grandson perform was delightful on its own, but the thought of seeing his youngest daughter's swordsmanship after so long had started to take hold of him.

"Very well. I'll have Erika summoned."
"I'll go get her. Right now."
"There's no need. I can easily send someone to..."
"I'll go."

Kyle was already sprinting for the door before Julius could stop him. The heavy door swung open on its own, and Julius was left alone.

"Ha."

That impatient streak, pure Arian. Julius stared into the empty air. The sword paths his grandson had drawn still flickered before his eyes.

"Erika..."

He murmured his youngest daughter's name, quiet in the still hall.

The elevator reached the fourth floor and Kyle pictured Erika's residence. The doors opened onto the familiar path to her estate.

"Aunt Erika!"

He knocked on the door. It didn't take long before it swung open, and Erika stood there in training clothes with a sword in hand, looking startled.

"What, what is it?"

The sweat matting her hair made it clear she'd been in the middle of practice.

"Grandfather is calling for you."
"What...?"

Erika's eyes went round.

"The Family Head? Me? Why?"
"He wants to see your swordsmanship."
"L-liar! There's no reason the Family Head would ever take an interest in my swordsmanship..."
"Why would I lie about something like this? He's waiting in the Sword Peak Hall right now, so come on."

Kyle grabbed her hand.

"R-right now?"

Erika's face went white. Standing before her father to show him her sword had been a dream she'd carried for years, but it was also the situation she feared most. And this was far too sudden.

"Come on!"

Kyle tugged at her wrist.

"W-wait! I need to prepare myself mentally, and my clothes..."
"Grandfather is waiting."

Erika ended up being pulled out of her residence by Kyle's hand.

In the elevator, through the central hall on the first floor, down the corridor, her heart hammered so hard she thought it might burst. Her legs trembled. Her palms were damp.

What if I make a mistake? What if he says it's not good? Why is this even happening...

Every dark thought she could think crowded through her head. But following her nephew's lead, she found herself at the door to the Sword Peak Hall before she knew it. Boom... The heavy door swung open without her having to knock.

"You've come."

Julius's voice from the throne. Low, resonant. A gaze that cut through you like a blade. The air left Erika's chest. Her hands trembled. Her feet were rooted to the floor.

"Aunt."

A small, warm hand found hers.

"Relax. Easy."

What a thing to say. Erika bit her lip and looked down at Kyle. She resented him, the nephew who had casually thrown her into this situation.

But one look at his face, those bright, sparkling eyes, the smile he aimed up at her, and the resentment dissolved before she could hold onto it. She felt a little silly, a little ridiculous, being encouraged by a nephew eight years her junior.

"Hoo..."

She drew a slow breath and let it out. Fine. Things had gone this far already. Erika squeezed Kyle's hand a few times and gathered herself.

She let go of his hand, gripped her sword tight, and stepped forward toward Julius.

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried