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The voice of the Sword Saint echoed in Najin’s ears, and before he could comprehend its meaning, his body became rigid, unable to move a muscle or even breathe.

The master of this realm hadn’t granted permission.

It was a sensation similar to when Merlin had restrained him. Although he could have moved with effort, Najin chose not to. Instead, he widened his eyes, determined to witness what was about to unfold with his own eyes.

Blood vessels in Najin’s eyes were bursting. Blood pooled at the corners of his eyes.

Swooshing…

Rain poured down over the field. Each drop that hit the ground splashed up. In the elongated moments, Najin saw the Sword Saint swinging his sword.

Even straining his eyes to their limit,
Even in the stretched timeline,

Najin couldn’t clearly see the Sword Saint’s movement. The sword, once pointing skyward, was now aimed at the ground. It was at that moment that Najin realized.

Drip, drip-drip-drip.

The falling raindrops split apart, scattering as if colliding with something invisible. Cutting through the rain, something approached. Water droplets were tossed into the air, parting the downpour. It advanced, pushing aside the blurring rain.

…Regardless of the physical distance of tens of meters between Najin and the Sword Saint, it meant nothing in this realm.

This was the domain of the Sword Saint.
His sword’s swing naturally cut through anything in its path. Thus, the burst of light emitted from the tip of the Sword Saint’s sword surged unimpeded toward Najin.

To the average eye, it was a mere flash. But to Najin, it was visible—a giant beam of light, like a guillotine, slashing down in a straight line.

Screech.

The sound of slicing through the air came a beat later.
The sound reverberated as the giant blade halted just before Najin’s nose. It was a massive sword aura reaching the sky, which Najin belatedly recognized as the Sword Saint’s sword aura.

The sword aura was reflected in Najin’s sunset-hued eyes. He witnessed the strike of one who had reached the pinnacle. Merely watching it caused his head to throb in pain.

Whoosh!

Then, the sword aura dispersed.
The wind brought by the sword aura hit Najin moments later. His hair fluttered, and his clothes rippled.

Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!

Raindrops split by the sword aura pelted Najin’s body. Through the rain hitting his face, Najin exhaled the breath he had been holding. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, which throbbed with pain.

It was a momentary instant.
Yet, in that fleeting moment, the Sword Saint’s strike was etched in Najin’s mind. Even with closed eyes, the image was vividly drawn. The strike of the Sword Saint etched a dividing line in Najin’s mind.

A line dividing ordinary humans and superhumans.

A massive wall dividing the world into Sword Masters and those who are not. The strike shown by the Sword Saint was akin to such a boundary.

“…”

Najin touched his neck.
The sensation he felt when the Sword Saint drew his sword, a chilling feeling, as if a blade rested against his neck.

‘It wasn’t an illusion.’

Najin realized it was no mere illusion.

This entire area belonged to the Sword Saint.

Realizing this, Najin couldn’t help but laugh.

Slowly opening his eyes, Najin looked down at his feet. A deep, straight line cut into the ground. A single strike that had split the ground and raindrops, shot from the Sword Saint.

Seen but not understood.
Incomprehensible, thus alien.
Alien, thus an immense barrier.

…Normally, facing such a massive wall, most would feel despair or hopelessness in front of a realm they could never reach. But this was limited to ordinary swordsmen.

Najin was an anomaly.

He had provoked constellations, pulled out Excalibur, and staked his life in gambles – an anomaly among anomalies.

“Ha…”

Therefore, facing the wall, Najin laughed.
He felt his hand trembling. Not from fear, but from awe and exhilaration. Confronting the pinnacle he must reach someday…

‘No, not quite.’

Najin gripped his sword tightly.
It wasn’t a place he must reach someday.
It was a realm to be trampled and surpassed. Najin’s goal was the highest point in the heavens.

Reaffirming his goal, Najin lifted his head. Locking eyes with the Sword Saint, the Sword Saint burst into laughter. Najin’s gaze did not waver.

“As promised, I’ll teach you the sword,” the Sword Saint spoke after the duel ended.

“I have many obligations, so I can’t visit often, but I’ll try to make time at least once a month. You’re worth that effort.”

Once a month.
A familiar proposition to Najin, only the mentor had changed from a mid-rank priest to the master of the Order of the Sword.

“Obviously, I don’t plan to make this public. You wouldn’t want that either. Besides… I have a fair number of enemies.”

The Sword Saint chuckled bitterly.

“If word gets out that I’ve taken a disciple, surely Yuel Razian, the Executioner of Starblood Sect, will sniff you out. Definitely. That one is definitely the kind who would do something like that.”
“The Executioner of the Starblood Sect, you mean…”
“Another Sword Master with six stars, Yuel Razian.”

The murderer, as they call her.
Najin had some knowledge about Yuel Razian. He could easily find basic information about the Sword Masters’ backgrounds.

‘She must have killed many to reach the Sword Master realm…’

An eccentric Sword Master.
Yuel Razian was seen as an object of disdain and fear, not respect, among swordsmen.

“She wants to strike me down. If she learns I’ve taken a disciple, she’ll definitely take an interest. Even if not her, the world’s attention will focus on you…”

The Sword Saint smirked.

“Do you want that? I won’t stop you if you do.”
“I’ll respectfully decline.”

Najin politely refused.
The Sword Saint nodded as if expecting this answer.

“It seems like you don’t plan to join the Order of the Sword, as Volkman said. Well, I wouldn’t recommend it either.”
“Aren’t you the master of the Order?”
“The Order of the Sword is a good place. But it’s not ideal for gaining varied experiences.”

The Sword Saint stated plainly.

“You need diverse experiences, so the Order doesn’t suit your style. I won’t force you. In fact, I’d recommend becoming a wandering swordsman.”

Crossing his arms, the Sword Saint gazed out over the rain-soaked field. His eyes seemed to be looking beyond the field, contemplating something far greater.

“Carrying only a sword, wander the world. See much, experience much, and interact with numerous people. Through that journey, the sword is perfected. I did the same, and so did the very first Sword Saint.”

Unbound by anything,
Walking wherever the path leads. Najin nodded in agreement to Karan’s words, as his own path was similar.

While listening to Karan, Najin slightly parted his lips.

“Sword Saint.”

There was something he was curious about.
Najin looked straight at Karan. In Najin’s eyes, Karan appeared different from Volkman. He seemed to view training a talented swordsman not as a goal but merely a means to achieve an end.

“Why do you wish to teach me the sword?”

Hence, Najin posed the question. Why teach me the sword? What are your intentions? At this, the Sword Saint gave a bitter smile.

“Teaching the sword to a talented individual is a duty of the master of the Order of the Sword… It would be nice to answer that way, but it’s not the whole truth.”

Karan replied briefly.

“It’s to fulfill the secret mission of the Order of the Sword. That’s all I can say for now. I can’t go into details, please understand.”

The secret mission of the Order?
Najin expressed his doubt but nodded in acknowledgment.

-Huh…

Merlin’s breathing echoed in Najin’s ears. It sounded a bit surprised. Merlin continued after exhaling.

-A bit unexpected. I didn’t think anyone who remembered that still existed…
“Do you know what the secret mission of the Order is?”
-Of course. It’s related to Arthur.

Merlin’s voice became solemn.
Unlike usual, her voice lacked any playfulness or laughter as she spoke.

-“Liberation of the first Sword Saint.” That’s the Order’s secret mission.
“The first Sword Saint, an hero from the era of King Arthur? He’s either dead or a constellation by now…”
-Not dead. More accurately, he’s unable to die.

Merlin’s voice carried a heavy tone. She sighed and continued.

-He became a ghost of Camlann.

In the carriage returning to the Order of the Sword.

Mid-rank Priest Volkman glanced at his friend sitting opposite him. Sword Saint Karan. He seemed more content than ever, meticulously tending to his sword.

“You seem impressed by that young man too?”
“Would it be only my impression?”

Volkman’s question was met with a shrug from the Sword Saint.

“Place any Sword Master there, and they’d have the same reaction. He had that much potential.”

The potential Karan spoke of wasn’t limited to mere talent, Volkman knew. Karan, who had refused to teach countless geniuses, claiming they didn’t catch his eye.

“He wasn’t frightened even after seeing my sword. There was no hesitation. Did you see his eyes at the end? Really, it’s unbelievable…”

Karan murmured but couldn’t help smiling.

“He looked at me, not as a summit to reach, but as a hurdle to overcome. Can you imagine? A mere Sword Expert thinking of surpassing a Sword Master.”

There’s power in one’s gaze.
Eyes reveal intentions.

And audaciously, that young man showed a desire to challenge the sword Karan had displayed. He saw it not with admiration or awe, but as a target to surpass. What an absurd notion.

‘Yet, that’s why…’

He liked it.
That was exactly the kind of person Karan was looking for. He had no interest in those who idolized him as a goal.

One to surpass him.
One to rise higher than him.

That’s who Karan had been searching for.

“I won’t teach him anything but the sword. You should cooperate too.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I won’t interfere in his life.”

He would only teach the sword.
He had no intention of meddling in the young man’s life. He wouldn’t provide support or rescue him from crisis. That would be pointless.

He must overcome crises on his own.
Face trials, break through dead ends,
Survive deadly battles and grow.

He had no intention of intervening in that process. Even if he liked the young man, he wouldn’t protect him. He would teach only swordsmanship, and the rest was for the young man to fill with his own strength.

If he dies in the process,
That’s all he was meant to be.

…Sword Masters are twisted in their own ways. Even among the three Sword Masters, Karan, considered the most normal, lacked human aspects.

“……”

Sharpening his sword, Karan recalled his goal.

The secret mission of the Order of the Sword.

It might sound grand, but if one were to simplify it, it was straightforward.

“Kill the first Sword Saint.”

That was the mission of the Order.
Put more gently, “Grant rest to the first Sword Saint,” but isn’t it essentially the same? Karan mused over the Order’s purpose, recalling the land of the abyss, Camlann.

Despite having six stars,
Despite reaching the realm of Sword Masters,

The image of Camlann, isolated and alone, haunted him even with closed eyes.

“The land of the abyss, Camlann.”

In that sealed space created by Arthur, cursed beings breathe and wait for the seal to break. Swallowing dragons, witches of the fallen, traitors of the Round Table, fallen stars…

And the Sword Ghost of Camlann.

Each time Camlann’s barrier trembles, a blurred swordsman can be seen. Dragging his sword, he cuts down everything, ally or foe alike. Resembling a ghost wielding a sword, he was called the Sword Ghost.

But no one knows the true identity of the Sword Ghost. It’s only known as a swordsman gone mad, wandering the cursed land.

Only a few constellations and past Sword Saints of the Order know his true identity. Karan pictured the figure of the Sword Ghost he had faced at the boundary of Camlann, looking at his own sword.

…The Sword Ghost is the first Sword Saint.

Worn out over hundreds of years.
Left alone in Camlann, cutting down the cursed for centuries. A hero from the past who lost to madness.

Liberating him was the secret mission of the Order.

The reason Karan began wielding his sword.

Karan sighed deeply, sheathing his sword. Would the young man he met today fulfill his secret mission? Only time will tell. Karan hoped that one day he would reveal this truth to the young man.

-The first Sword Saint, who turned into the Sword Ghost of Camlann.
-You’ll have to strike him down someday. To be more precise…

Merlin spoke to Najin.

-Only you can do it.

There was a complexity in her voice.

-He can only be struck down with Excalibur.