Forsaken Priest of the Hero's Party-Chapter 86: The Swordsman Without A Master

A legendary sword, sharp enough to slice off fingers with just a glance, lay among the many weapons.

This plain iron sword stood out amid scattered jewels, magical artifacts, and other rare armaments.

At first glance, it appeared unremarkable, crafted from ordinary iron that lacked the luster of the other treasures.

It resembled a modest blade from a local blacksmith rather than a prized relic from the imperial treasury. But sometimes, it’s the simplest things that catch attention.

Roka, curious, reached out to touch it. If the Swordsman Without a Master had deliberately left it so unassuming, he was indeed clever.

It’s far more ordinary than I expected... ugh.

She grabbed the handle and attempted to pull the sword free. Although it wasn’t deeply embedded, every effort to move it proved futile.

While she struggled, a finger tapped her neck. Startled, she whirled around to see a man in a wide-brimmed hat smiling at her.

Her eyes widened in surprise. His face was blurred, as though shrouded in fog, she could discern his eyes, nose, and mouth, yet his features never fully resolved into clarity.

“Why are you trying to pull that sword out?”

“I believe a knife would suit you far better than a sword.”

“Who... are you?”

“I’m the owner of the sword you were trying to extract. Or rather, a fragment of its spirit.”

“My name is Heron. Let’s call this encounter fate.”.

“The Swordsman Without a Master? But...”

“It’s been ages since someone addressed me that way. Almost 500 years, in fact. And Elderin, too, must be long gone.”

He uttered the name of the first emperor with ease, a name he had every right to invoke. Five hundred years ago, in an era of chaos, this swordsman had aided the first emperor in restoring order.

The first emperor regarded him not as a subordinate, but as a friend, more partners than ruler and subject.

“If it was 500 years ago, shouldn’t you be dead by now? Unless, of course, you’re an elf or a dragon...”

“Little one. When you reach my level, you’ll understand. Many have attempted to claim this sword, but I wanted to meet you because...”

With a single stride, he materialized beside the sword. With the effortless ease of lifting a cotton ball, he extracted it from the ground, where the very sword that had defied Roka now swung freely in his hand.

“Because you have the least qualifications to wield it, I’m not seeking mere talent. I seek one thing only: do you have the heart to protect another?”

It isn’t a divine sword wrought by gods, nor a diabolical blade forged by devils. Whether sacred or profane, this sword cuts through all, crafted not of myth but of human emotion, for humans.

“The heart to protect...”

“But as I mentioned, a knife would suit you far better than a sword.”

The greatest swordsman, who forged the sword with heart, declared this. In his eyes, Roka wasn’t suited to wield a sword.

Feeling offended, Roka retorted.

Updat𝒆d fr𝑜m freewebnøvel.com.

“Why? You’ve never seen me even hold a sword properly.”

“What is a sword? It’s a versatile weapon, but if you confine it to a single purpose, it pales in comparison to specialized arms.”

“For thrusting, a spear is superior; for striking, a hammer delivers more force; and for chopping, an axe is far more effective. So why, then, is the sword still the weapon of first choice?”

“Because magic can make up for its shortcomings.”

Not as effective at thrusting as a spear? Then use magic to compensate.

Not strong enough for chopping like an axe? Magic can fix this.

With sufficient magical power, a sword becomes remarkably versatile, capable of thrusting, slashing, and striking by balancing strength, flexibility, and sharpness.

“Because of magic?”

“Yes. That’s why, when wielding a sword, you must keep a steady heart. Even if a spear’s tip is pressed against your neck, your resolve must not falter. True swordsmen never allow their emotions to govern their actions, even in the face of danger.”

This versatility was powerful, but it also required careful thinking.

“You must constantly calculate your reaction to an opponent. Should you thrust, slash, or strike with the flat of the blade? The more a weapon can do, the more choices you have.”

Roka looked confused.

“Do you enjoy such mental gymnastics? I doubt it.”

“But the swordsman I saw didn’t do that. They are just overwhelmed with sheer power...”

Ardein von Illumina, for instance, wielded a sword in an entirely different style, harnessing her dragon-like strength and explosive power.

The Swordsman Without a Master laughed. She had chosen the wrong weapon.

A sword is not designed for brute force; that’s the domain of a knife. If you rely solely on explosive power when using a sword, you’re misusing it.

A sword is the most human-like of weapons precisely because of its versatility. If you limit yourself to one function, you might as well choose a weapon tailored for that single purpose.

“Based on my observations, it would benefit more from this.”

Heron lifted the sword, and immense magical power cascaded from the heavens. As he swung the blade downward, everything around him bathed in a blue glow, the magic dulling even the brilliance of the treasures in the room. Yet, he destroyed nothing.

Roka felt a surge of magic far surpassing her own; her body trembled as the power brushed against her, causing the fur on her tail to stand on end.

She was amazed at his ability to control such power without destroying anything. Destruction was easy, but controlling it with precision was much more complicated.

“Don’t you prefer to obliterate your enemies with a single, crushing blow? To truly destroy them, you’d need a knife, a massive one, like a greatsword.”

“How... how do you do that? Teach me. Surely, you can achieve that with a sword, too?”

Roka’s eyes lit up with excitement, this was exactly the kind of power she craved. With this technique, she could defeat the Little Sun Princess, Kamira, without relying on sun magic. With power like this, protecting her master would be easy.

“You don’t have a master, do you?”

Heron asked with a bitter smile.

This isn’t merely a technique, it’s a state of being. When you attain that state, it becomes effortless.”

Noticing Roka’s confusion, he realized he needed to start with the basics.

“But perhaps it’s better this way. Without a master, you carry no preconceptions.

Heron had learned swordsmanship from nature itself, rather than through formal teachings. Seeing that Roka, too, had no master, her tribe lacking deep traditions and having received only a brief lesson from Imperial Princess Ardein, he understood exactly what she required.

As the third teacher following Ardein, he recognized what Roka needed most at that moment.

Right now, she didn’t require lofty philosophical insights but rather a solid grasp of the basics, an understanding of where she stood and where she needed to go.

“Child, in this world, there are third-rate, second-rate, and first-rate. Where do you place yourself among them?”

While many spoke of experts and masters, Heron saw things differently, having learned swordsmanship from nature itself, he devised his own system of levels.

“I suppose I should be at least second-rate, shouldn’t I?”

“You’re third-rate. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

This level system didn’t divide strength by strict measures.

A third rate is more substantial than a second rate. Also, a second rate could beat a first-rate. Nevertheless, as a general rule, higher levels correspond to greater strength.

“I don’t know how high you rate your own strength, but...”

To him, being third-rate meant being at a stage where you could only rely on your strength.

“No matter how vast your power is, even if it covers the sky, it’s still tiny compared to the world. Unless you learn to tap into that greater force, you will always remain third-rate, no matter how strong you are.”