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◈ The Regressor and the Blind Saintess ◈

Chapter 30: Training

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The next day, Vera stepped into the clearing before the cabin he was using as his quarters and drew his sword.

It was for training.

Training so he would never again feel the helplessness he had known when he had barely escaped Terdan's grasp with Vargo's help. Training so Rene would never have to overextend herself to manifest her Authority.

With his sword in hand, Vera thought.

What was lacking?

What was lacking in his own sword?

Whenever he posed that question, the answer was always the same.

Nothing.

In Vera's judgment, there was nothing lacking in his sword.

His swordsmanship had already reached the realm of mastery.

In a way, it was only natural. Vera had talent.

A talent for wielding a sword. A talent for killing his opponents. A talent for recognizing those who wanted to kill him. A talent for controlling his body. Talent in every other element needed for battle.

From the moment he first held a sword, Vera had understood. He knew how to swing it and what he could accomplish with it. He knew it by instinct.

That was why Vera's sword had no Form.

A sword swung according to instinct.

A sword forged through experience alone.

There were no codified rules within it.

That was why Vargo had called it the swordsmanship of a dog in heat, and why Vera had been unable to refute him.

Yet precisely because it was such a sword, it lacked nothing.

Vera's sword already possessed every element necessary for real combat.

That was why his sword had not changed during the past four years in the Holy Kingdom.

The moment he imposed Form upon his swordsmanship, its potential would vanish. His blade would become trapped within limited techniques. Each time he swung it, his body would feel stifled.

For that reason, Vera had failed to correct his swordsmanship.

Once more, a question rose within him.

Nothing is lacking. Does that mean I cannot improve any further?

Had he already reached the limit of his growth?

Could he no longer grow beyond this through the sword alone?

The question lingered.

After contemplating the answer for a long while, Vera clenched the hilt of his sword and reached his conclusion.

No.

It was possible.

He could reach a higher realm.

He had already seen with his own eyes that a realm beyond this existed. There was no reason he could not reach it.

As his thoughts continued, Vargo's strike from the other day came to mind.

Highly compressed divine power.

That was the technique that had made Vargo's attack possible.

That vicious blood-red mace pressed down upon space itself, created by compressing Vargo's divine power into a single point.

Launching it toward a single point.

The divine power had erased all matter along its path because the compressed force had not dispersed and had instead moved in a single direction.

And then...

The explosion at its destination.

An explosion that even Terdan, the giant who pushed mountains, had been unable to withstand.

Intent.

That was what made such a technique possible. Vargo had placed his intent to confront Terdan within a codified Form, causing the condensed divine power to explode at the intended point.

Shing.

Vera raised his sword.

He understood. Vargo's technique had unquestionably contained both Form and Intent.

If it was not merely an impossible fantasy but something that could truly be done, there was no reason Vera could not do it.

I cannot follow His Holiness's method.

It was not his own path.

That was a technique for Vargo alone, one only Vargo could use.

It was a Tyrant's Path.

Vera needed to place a different Form and Intent within his sword.

What should I place within it?

His thoughts continued.

A sword only he could wield. A sword he should pursue.

Since the moment his life had regressed, its purpose had been singular.

A sword for the Saintess.

A sword to protect Rene.

The sword he needed to create for that purpose was...

Flawlessness.

It had to be a sword that would not collapse in any situation, a sword without weakness.

It had to be a sword that revealed no weakness regardless of the situation or opponent.

But...

Impossible.

Vera knew how arrogant the word Flawlessness was.

So he envisioned a sword that came infinitely close to Flawlessness, one that only he could create.

Myriad Transformations.

A technique that imitated Flawlessness by employing ten thousand different sword arts across ten thousand battles.

He needed to achieve it.

I already have the foundation.

Sanctuary.

His divine art, created by weaving his own Authority. If he could manipulate the conditions of battle itself through it, then it would be possible.

His swordsmanship needed to be able to take tens of thousands of forms according to the penalties imposed each time, remaining free from the restrictions of Sanctuary.

An unchanging core amid ever-changing variables.

In other words, he needed to create a Form of Myriad Transformations.

Vera erased every sword technique he had built through experience.

He had to return to a blank white page and build anew from the beginning.

Closing his eyes, Vera recalled the countless powerful people he had encountered, beginning in his previous life.

He recalled their swords, their martial arts, their methods of battle.

He did not intend to carve them into his body. He had already failed at that attempt.

I will leave behind only the most basic techniques capable of facing all of them.

Slashing, thrusting, and blocking.

He erased everything but those three elements.

Then he considered how the powerful people he had met until now had fought.

Who were the powerful people he might have to face with this sword?

He did not need to contemplate the answer for long.

In his previous life, when he had lived with the entire world as his enemy, if he had to name the greatest among the countless powerful figures he met...

The heroes.

The heroes who had defeated the Demon King. He needed to forge his sword with the possibility of facing them in mind.

He could defeat them even if he had to fight them right now. But that did not mean their swordsmanship was inferior to his.

Vera knew it. The only reason he had been able to defeat them was because he possessed a Holy Mark. In terms of swordsmanship alone, his blade was inferior to their martial arts.

Therefore, the sword Vera needed to build anew had to be capable of overcoming their swords, the histories their swords had accumulated, through swordsmanship alone.

Vera recalled the heroes' blades.

Albrecht.

The Empire's second prince, Albrecht de Prich, the Knight of Devotion.

He recalled the sword known as the Unbreakable Sword.

The key was Flow.

Overwhelming softness that diverted any attack. He recalled that sword, the most troublesome to face.

Next...

Hegreon.

The heir of the northern Duchy of Tresia. The sword of Hegreon Tresia, the Grand Duke's Heir of the Deep Freeze.

What his sword embodied was...

Weight.

A resolute sword that would not yield to the raging blizzard. He recalled the sword whose downward strikes had forced him to his knees.

Lastly...

Aisha.

Aisha Dragnov, owner of the Demon Sword.

The Demon Sword she wielded contained unmistakable Swiftness. He recalled that blade, which came at him so quickly it grated on his nerves.

Then he envisioned his own technique, one that could face them all without losing.

Change.

He needed to construct his swordsmanship with a blade of myriad transformations as its goal.

Vera opened his eyes.

The area around him was already filled with ash-gray divine power.

He had decided which direction to take, but his sword did not even have a proper framework yet.

It would naturally be a grueling endeavor that took a long time.

Yet even as that thought arose, Vera's mood continued to improve.

He could see the path ahead. He was not yet complete. He could grow stronger than he was now.

Vera's fighting spirit was the kind that knew how to enjoy such progress.

Actual combat would be best.

For Vera, actual combat was the most efficient form of training. Fighting opponents directly and correcting himself moment by moment would be the fastest path to completing his swordsmanship.

The problem is how to find actual combat in the Holy Kingdom.

Unless Rene went outside, Vera could not leave either.

Then I need to find opponents within the Holy Kingdom...

As he was deep in thought, a shout rang out.

“Vera!”

Vera turned his head toward the voice.

In the distance, the people he had summoned here were approaching.

The twins, Rohan, and Trevo.

Flash!

An idea crossed Vera's mind.

They had originally been summoned to be “educated” for Rene's sake, but there was no need for their gathering to serve only that purpose.

A smirk slipped onto Vera's lips.

While I am at it.

Such sturdy punching bags had come to him. It would be a waste not to use them.

* * *

Two days later, Rene walked down the corridor with Vera for the divine arts lesson as planned.

The steady rhythm made by her cane and their footsteps. The warmth passed through her fingertips.

Feeling those things, Rene walked silently for a while before the awkward atmosphere became too stifling, and she opened her mouth.

“The person we're meeting today is the Apostle of Wisdom, right?”

“Yes. Trevo.”

“Ah...”

After giving that brief response, Rene felt the silence settle in once more and found herself inwardly resenting Vera.

It was not sincere resentment. She simply found it strangely upsetting that he remained silent like this, without saying a word.

It was an emotion Rene herself did not understand.

A pout naturally appeared on her face, and the hand holding her cane tightened, turning the sound of a light Tap. into a heavy Thud!

“Saintess?”

At Vera's call, Rene flinched. She lowered her head slightly and answered.

“Yes.”

“Are you feeling unwell?”

“No.”

Thud!

The sound echoed against the floor again.

After speaking, Rene belatedly wondered if she had sounded too sharp and tried to sense Vera's reaction.

There was no change in the feeling of his hand, his footsteps, or his breathing. Still, Rene startled herself with the thought that Vera might be angry and squeezed her eyes shut before blurting out an apology.

“I’m sorry. I sounded too sharp.”

“Not at all. I did not sense anything of the sort.”

“Um... I just did not sleep very well.”

“Ah, the seasons are changing. That may be why. I will tell Hella to pay special attention to the temperature in your room.”

“Yes...”

Rene lowered her head.

Inwardly, she offered a small apology to Hella, who would suffer because of this.

Why am I acting like this?

Was it because she had not adapted to the Holy Kingdom yet? Rene could not understand her own actions at all. In the end, she convinced herself that everything would be fine once she grew more accustomed to the place and steadied her breathing.

Then silence fell again.

Calm down. Calm down.

Repeating this to herself, Rene forced brightness into her voice and asked Vera a question.

“What kind of person is Apostle of Wisdom Trevo? Is there anything he dislikes?”

Her question was about Trevo. Rene believed it was only polite to learn about someone before meeting them.

Vera pondered Rene's words for a moment before replying in a quiet tone.

“He is an oddball.”

“Pardon?”

“He has something of a perverted streak. He is not someone you should get close to, so I would recommend keeping your distance.”

Vera was speaking at unusual length. Rene was grateful that he had said so much, but she tilted her head at his harsh assessment of Trevo.

“Um...”

Unable to find anything to say, she only let out a small sound. Vera continued speaking poorly of Trevo.

“He takes an interest in men's bare skin, so one could say he has a taste for men. However, there is no guarantee that his perversions are directed only at men, so I hope you will be especially careful, Saintess. Ah, and if Trevo asks to see your Holy Mark, never, ever show it to him.”

It did not sound like Vera.

There was a faint irritation in his voice. It was rare for him to show his emotions so openly, and Rene recalled having heard that tone once before coming to the Holy Kingdom.

Ah, that eccentric.

It was exactly the tone Vera had used when speaking about the people of the Holy Kingdom in Lemeo.

So he is the eccentric Sir mentioned.

Rene nodded slightly. She understood.

Still, she somehow felt that Vera should not be speaking ill of someone like this.

“Um, Sir?”

“Yes.”

“I do not think it is good to speak poorly of someone behind their back...”

Vera's expression stiffened at Rene's words. His gaze turned toward her.

Rene spoke with a slightly troubled expression.

It was certainly, certainly true.

But...

“My apologies.”

“No, I was only saying...”

Vera felt wronged.

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