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Chapter 10: The Return of the Sword King (1)

“I’ve come to challenge you, Master.”

“Already?”

“Yes.”

Seeing his disciple challenge him in broad daylight, Bern let out a brief chuckle.

‘Don’t tell me he’s mastered Circle Step already?’

In truth, there was no such thing as ‘mastering’ footwork. Like swordsmanship, the only thing that mattered was one’s devotion to the craft. Bern had only issued the challenge to Henry a few days ago, so he thought Henry must have just gotten overzealous. Bern decided to use this as an opportunity to show his impatient disciple what true footwork was.

“Alright. As promised, if you can come into contact with me using just footwork, we will start on your swordsmanship lessons right away.”

Henry’s eyes radiated with confidence, like an ardent student ready to demonstrate what they learned. The two soon stood face-to-face on the training hall’s sandy floor.

“I will give you three minutes. If you can’t catch me by the time the sand in this hourglass runs out, then you lose.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Ah, I almost forgot! Young Master.”

“Yes?”

“If you fail this challenge, there will be a punishment.”

“Alright.”

Henry understood why Bern would say such a thing. His words ignited an even greater sense of motivation inside Henry.

‘I’ll have to test out the effects of my awakening.’

Filled with motivation, Henry decided not to buff himself with his magic this time. He wanted to gauge how much he had truly grown.

“Then, we shall begin.”

Thump.

Bern turned the hourglass upside down. Henry flew forward like an arrow, not wanting to waste even a second.

“Hup!”

Henry’s new skeletal frame and improved physique allowed him to reach further than before. No longer at a physical disadvantage against Bern, Henry began to attack.

.

‘He’s definitely improved his movement.’

The two danced in a circle around the small stage. This was the fighting method of Circle Step. Bern continued to observe Henry’s movement as he evaded each strike.

‘He has certainly earned the right to his confidence. He’s grown tremendously.’

Bern was correct; Henry’s skills had improved to an unbelievable extent.

‘But that’s only compared to how he was before.’

Henry’s hand reached out towards Bern’s chest. Bern grabbed Henry by his wrist and threw him back.

“Kurgh!”

Henry’s eyes widened at the unexpected counterattack. Seeing the look on Henry’s face, Bern responded.

“I never said I couldn’t attack.”

“...I understand.”

What Bern said was not wrong. From then on, his attacks continued.

“Kurgh!”

Bern’s palms struck Henry in the neck, chest, and abdomen in succession.

They were not very powerful attacks, but they were precisely targeted at Henry’s vital areas, leaving him winded and gasping for air.

Bern did not relent. He even used his shoulder to parry Henry’s hand away, rendering it useless for a few moments.

And just as the last grains of sand started to drop…

“Kurgh!”

It was evident that Henry had become frustrated and impatient. His movements became increasingly careless. Bern easily spotted an opening and put his palms together, launching a powerful strike aimed toward Henry’s abdomen.

Thud.

This time, there was considerable strength behind Bern’s attack.

Henry landed hard on his back, winded and trembling. He steadied himself and sat up just in time to watch as Bern picked up the hourglass.

“Looks like time’s up. Young Master, you are defeated.”

“Kurgh, urgh…”

“Still, you were quite impressive. I had no idea that you would develop so quickly in such a short period of time.”

Bern tried to end things off optimistically, but it just sounded like sheer mockery to Henry.

“We’re going to double our strength training for the next ten days. So next time, please think carefully before making a challenge.”

“Cough, cough! …I understand.”

And with that, Bern left the training hall.

* * *

Henry was put through hell that day. Since his physical condition had improved, Bern had decided to triple the difficulty of his physical training. In addition, Henry’s punishment for losing the challenge had been to double the amount of exercises he had to do. By nightfall, his entire body had been totally overworked.

Returning to his room, Henry buried his face in his pillow with a silent cry, without even thinking of using any healing magic on himself.

‘Ugh, I feel like a damn kid. Is this all just due to lack of experience?’

Henry thought it might just be his lack of experience, but he had practiced Circle Step without sleeping for the past few days. Not only had he succeeded in avoiding the icicles at the mountain, but he had also practiced his evasion against wild animals. However, there seemed to be a limit on his ability to develop his skills in such a short period of time.

“Heal.”

With barely enough strength to even raise a finger, Henry finally decided to cast a healing spell. A warm light enveloped his body. He felt better, but he was so exhausted that the accumulated fatigue could not be completely erased.

‘There’s no time for footwork practice, I need something faster.’

Henry felt a sense of urgency. Even now, those that he had once protected could be suffering from pain and oppression somewhere out there in the empire. He felt that he could not afford to build up his power in such an inefficient manner.

‘I need an expedient.’

By ‘expedient’, Henry meant magic. Magic was a science that was developed through expediency, as magic users and scholars tried to figure out the most efficient ways to cast spells.

‘Any solution I come up with will still need solid footwork as its foundation’

There were different classes and types of expedients. Using an expedient to bypass a certain stage of development usually meant an eventual need for another expedient in the future.

Henry wanted an expedient that could miraculously help him overcome his footwork struggles, and allow him to develop at the same time.

‘Damn it, why did that bastard Golden invent something like this… wait, Golden invented the Circle Step!’

Henry’s thought process had led him back to Golden Jackson Edward, the founder of imperial swordsmanship and the greatest swordsman in the empire.

‘Yeah, that’s right. This footwork… didn’t Golden create this? Then what about the footwork technique of someone stronger than Golden?’

It was true that Golden was the greatest swordsman, but it did not mean that he had never been defeated.

‘What was that guy’s name? That… that… ah, that’s right! Hector Meyer!”

Sword King Hector Meyer.

Henry’s old comrades who knew of Meyer’s existence simply called him the ‘Sword King’. He had earned that title by being the only swordsman to subdue Golden in a swordfight.

‘Yeah, that was it. His footwork was so strange that Golden had a hard time adjusting to it. It would have been nice if he had joined us when we offered.’

Hector Meyer had been the last swordsman of the now-disappeared kingdom. He was the commander of the kingdom’s knights, the princess’s fiancée, and the king’s son-in-law. Although he had won his battle with Golden, he was ultimately forced to meet his end at the hands of Henry’s comrades. This was the nature of war.

After his brief reminiscence, Henry came to a decision.

‘I’ll have to ask him for help.’

It was an idea that he would never have considered if he was still the same Henry as in his previous life. However, the present Henry had things that he did not have before.

He got up and grabbed an old book from the bookshelf.

‘There you are.’

The title of the book was ‘Necromancy’. It was the same book of black magic that had brought Henry back after his execution.

‘To think that I’d use black magic in my lifetime.’

In the empire, black magic was a forbidden power, and most of it was considered unethical. As easy as it was to learn compared to magic or swordsmanship, its power was also strong enough to cause its users to fall into a sense of self-righteousness.

Henry picked up the magic book and slowly turned the pages.

‘Full of errors, just as I expected.’

It was filled with incorrect formulas, numbers were wrongly substituted, and there was considerable damage to the book itself. Since black magic was prohibited, the book itself was also prohibited, meaning that someone had intentionally damaged it.

‘At least it wasn’t totally ripped apart.’

Henry closed the book. The damage was not too severe, so Henry felt that he could use magic to restore it himself. He took out a pen and began to write long sentences on the cover of the book.

‘A guillotine that punishes evil, a trial of truth that detects lies, the formula for thinning out spies in a witch hunt, and…’

Henry combined a variety of formulas to create a unique magic that could restore the book to its original state. Shortly after, the spell in the Magical Spire used to restore written text, remove falsified text and restore missing sentences, ‘Reprint Words’, was ready to be cast.

Henry put down his pen and began to cast the spell.

“Reprint Words!”

Woom!

When the magic was activated, the letters contained within Henry’s magic began to wriggle as if they were alive. It was an unusual sight. The letters began to move and interact with each other like organisms in an ecosystem. They organized and conducted hunts among themselves as they sifted through all the information in the book, hunting down anything that was incorrect.

‘As expected.’

The false information was slowly being erased from the book in this manner. The erased letters shed their ink, which flowed into and restored the damaged areas of the book. Finally, the last of the falsified information was removed. The letters all settled back onto the pages of the book, presumably satisfied with the corrective work they had done.

‘Is it over?’

Henry carefully read through the restored book.

“Looks like the restoration was a success.”

He was satisfied with the result. For the first time in his life, he had his hands on a genuine book of black magic. He took his time reading through the entire book, until he finally reached the last page.

“So basically, perfect necromancy is going to be very difficult.”

Henry had hoped the restored book would equip him with the knowledge to execute a complete resurrection. Unfortunately, the book only taught him that resurrection was close to impossible.

“To summarize, the gates of the underworld can only be opened during a full moon, and in order to summon a specific soul, I’ll need an object that would evoke powerful emotions from that specific soul… Then it looks like we only have one problem, huh?”

Coincidentally, that night, it was a full moon. Now all that remained was to prepare an object, but Henry obviously did not possess anything that belonged to the Sword King.

“It can’t be helped, then.”

Henry locked the door and shifted all the furniture in his room to a corner, leaving a huge empty space in the middle of the room. Next, he drew a massive magic circle within the empty space.

Scribble. Scribble.

It was a fairly complex pattern, but one that Henry had drawn dozens of times, for a spell that he had used quite often. When he finally completed the magic circle, he approached the center of the circle, placed his hands on it, and spoke.

“...Lagerona Lee.”

Whoosh!

As the precise magic circle and spell casting combined with Henry’s vast magical powers, a being began to form on top of the circle. Henry had summoned the being into this plane of existence.

It was a spirit from another realm — Skall, the ‘Spirit of Exchange’.