Sword Pilgrim-Novel

"Hunting… you mean?"

The war had just ended, but suddenly a hunt came up. Ryburn touched his glasses looking a little puzzled.

"As far as I know, the orcs and their tamed beasts have eaten up all the demonic beasts nearby. If there's going to be a food shortage in the North, it'd be better to talk to our superior when we meet him."

"Efficient like a true munchkin[1], eh."

"Munch… kin?"

"Ah, nothing. It's not because of the food shortage. There's another reason."

"What is it?"

"Because I want to hunt down a demonic beast before it becomes a danger. It'll cause chaos in North someday if I leave it alone. Are you interested?"

"I will listen."

However, he wasn't very interested. I see, so it's a demonic beast.

It was just that level of reaction.

It seemed like he was trying to be attentive only because Callius was the eldest son of the Jervain family and its appointed official heir.

Callius smirked and threw in a bomb that was sure to change that stoic expression.

"Have you ever heard of the dragonblooded?"

"Dragonblooded!"

Ryburn's expression changed abruptly.

Dragonblooded.

A descendant of a draconic bloodline.

Be they humans or beasts, those with mixed dragon blood are commonly referred to as the ‘dragonblooded'.

"The dragonblooded, with dragon blood flowing in their veins, are innately wild and ferocious."

As well as very powerful. Even if they have just a trace of dragon's blood.

One menacing a village or two might be reborn as a threat to the whole nation.

"But they're valuable."

As dangerous as they are, the dragonblooded are still worth a lot.

Blood that mixed with the bloodline of the dragons.

Horns or claws with draconic heritage.

Leather, or even eyes.

Draconic by-products are rare, and getting them is difficult like plucking a star from the sky, no matter how much money you have.

So naturally there are people who want to own such things, even if they have to pay in billions.

So, of course –

"Are you interested now?"

"Naturally. It's a different story if the prey is a dragonblooded."

Even a heretical inquisitor suspicious of him couldn't help but be smitten.

Rayburn fixed his glasses and immediately called in the other captains.

"Hunting? Why all of a sudden?"

"Isn’t that so…"

The summoned captains expressed their dissatisfaction at first, but that soon changed with Callius' explanation.

A dragonblooded beast. Thunder wolf dragon.

An adult that had not yet grown up.

Their eyes changed completely after hearing the story.

"Good! No, this is great! Let's go! We can go right now! The corpse ceremony is really boring, and I've been stuck here for a month, so now's good!"

This place originally lacked all kinds of entertainment.

The third squad commander –

Orcal, was understandably dissatisfied.

"Let's go!"

With child-like innocence, he stomped his feet, saying ‘let's go'.

"Are you sure? If it's a dragonblooded, it wouldn't be a normal beast. It's not impossible that it might hide or run away, so it'll be a waste of time if you don't have reliable information."

The captain of the sixth squad –

Druma, was still suspicious.

"The information is certain."

Because the quest was already out.

"I can't tell you the source. If you're really in doubt, you can just stay here. Right?"

"Yeah, Druma, you stay here! Ryburn and I will go with Sir Callius."

"No, if you're that sure, I'll trust you too."

What a quick about-face.

Druma, the Silent.

Callius almost let out a laugh at that change of attitude that didn't fit his moniker.

"The orc corpses would be dealt with in about a month. The sooner you prepare for the hunt, the better."

"Right now is fine."

"I plan to prepare thoroughly. The thunder wolf dragon isn't an easy opponent, and I want to do my best."

But –

"If you want to leave right away, I won't stop you. If you find and catch it first, the share is all yours. I have to prepare, so I'll leave in three days. Let's all go by ourselves. Because we're all going to the same place, anyway."

"Then, where is the thunder wolf dragon now?"

"Although the orcs have run roughshod all over the North, there's a forest they haven't touched, a fair way away."

There were three famous forests in the North.

The White Forest beyond its borders.

The Sinking Forest, that'd given Callius a hard time.

Lastly, although not large in size, the third and gloomiest one.

"The Black Forest."

It was there.

While Callius was setting out to hunt –

Elburton was startled by Nochtel's report.

"You mean that Judgment Sword?"

"Yes."

"Is it that sword after all?"

"Yes, he absolutely did not need any guidance, and he still chose that sword."

Nochtel sympathized with Elburton's stiff expression.

Because that sword wasn't very durable.

"Did anything change with Callius afterwards? Paranoia, for example."

"I haven't seen any signs yet."

Elburton, pressing his back onto the chair, recalled the contents of the documents passed down to the successive family heads.

"Medea… was a great person. But she died of treachery. It was no honourable death. I'm worried that the sword's consciousness might harm Callius."

That's why he'd instructed Nochtel.

To steer Callius away from it.

Was he just being stupid, or did have other ideas? … Elburton had no way to know.

But it was already irreversible.

If such was his choice, that too was fate.

"Why is a spirit sword called a spirit sword? Here's your chance to feel that clearly, kid."

A cavern with strange letters inscribed on its walls.

A place swimming in divine power, the energy so dense that it shimmered with a soft gleam.

It was Fatalite's sacred sanctuary.

There, Callius calmly sat and held a sword in both hands.

One hand on the blade.

The other grabbed the hilt and poured in the pure divine power that swirled all around.

[Judgment Sword – Medea]

Grade – Spirit

Infused Soul – Medea von Jervain

Unique Ability – Discerning Lies

The ninth Jervain family head.

Medea von Jervain.

Despite being born a woman, she had been a great knight, a Lord of the North who'd toiled for the land's prosperity.

After her death, she became a sword as beautiful as her appearance had been in life. A sword made of an indescribably transparent material.

Even so, the blade was sharp enough to cleave through steel like butter, and firm enough to not break even when struck with a rock.

However, now –

That beautiful sword was screaming.

"It's the price you pay for daring to mess with me."

A few days ago.

The woman who had become the core of the Judgment Sword –

Medea von Jervain's consciousness had been seeping into Callius' head.

It wasn't that much of a concern.

It was only to the extent that her bitter feelings and fragmented memories were secretly seeping into his dreams.

Swords that have been used as carcasses for a long time have feelings of regret.

Especially if it's a spirit sword.

‘The original meaning of spirit sword.'

An awakened soul.

It meant that the sword had awakened a soul.

Originally, the more he used the sword, the more her thoughts would mesh into him, and he would've had to suffer quite a bit, but this time it'd been a bad match-up.

"It's not called ‘purification' for nothing. They've left it alone for so long because she'd been a family head."

Callius didn't care, though.

The scream resounded bizarrely, as if the voice was ethereal.

A woman's scream resounding in a cave was already strange.

Hearing it coming from the sword made the scene even more horrifying, but it was now all over.

Because it was a sacred realm.

There was no room for ominous thoughts in this holy place, the seat of the stone statue of Fatalite.

"Is it done now?"

The thoughts that had been bothering him in his head were gone. It must've been because Medea von Jervain's remnant thoughts that'd remained in the Judgment Sword had disappeared.

That didn't mean her soul was gone, though.

There was nothing to worry about since only the unclean energy had been purified.

"Originally, I thought it'd take quite a while… but this is a sacred place after all."

At least a week.

At most, it might have taken several years.

However, when she was given the pure divine power of Fatalite's sanctuary, those latent thoughts disappeared as cleanly as snow melting in the sun.

"There's no lack of seeds either, so things are going pretty well. Alright."

The flower he had planted here before, called Tear of Valtherus, had borne fruit.

If left alone, it would naturally germinate and multiply.

It had been an excellent choice to plant the flower here in Fatalite's sanctuary.

But if there was one regret –

"It will take a while."

It would take time for the flower to bloom again. That was only natural, but not having any access to holy water hurt a bit.

The holy water of Valtherus was a cheat that was almost equivalent to having an extra life.

It'd been super effective so far, so not having any more was very disappointing.

‘After the succession is formalized, I'll have to leave the North for a while.'

The first priority was to find out how to purify the troll's blood.

He'd tried to do it using the holy power of the sanctuary, but without success.

Maybe a good spirit crafter might be able to help.

‘The Church is in the capital of the Kingdom.'

There had to be many talented enchanters there.

If not, it wouldn't be a bad idea to meet Sullivian, who was famous for being the top spirit crafter in the whole of Carpe.

"If her life hasn't come to an end by now, that is."

Since he hadn't heard about Esther yet, she most like hadn't passed away.

Because the day she died would also be the day that a new vision sword would be born in the Kingdom.

"Then, all that’s left is this guy."

The Judgment Sword has a separate use.

It's a sword useful for different purposes, to clarify or make certain a cause.

However, it's not very useful for battlefields, or for small-scale melee fights that straddle the line of life and death.

There's no reason not to use it, but there's no merit in using it either.

The unique ability of the Judgment Sword is the discernment of lies.

There's one other additional ability, but it's not useful in battle.

So, before hunting the thunder wolf dragon –

Callius had come to the sanctuary.

It was also for the purpose of purifying the Judgment Sword, but that was secondary.

The real purpose was this –

The wretched corpse of a warrior laid in front of Callius.

It was the body of the orc warlord.

"The most important component of the carcass ritual is the body being sacrificed. However, there's an additional, essential element."

The caster's divine power.

The quality of the sword would subtly differ based on the purity of spirit and the sincerity of devotion.

‘The carcasses of the successive patriarchs of the North are at about the level of the Church's bishops.'

Callis von Jervain, the first head of the family, was famous for his body having been smelted by the pope of that era after praying for a hundred days.

That much was impossible, but Callius was still looking forward to transforming the orc general's corpse here in the sacred land.

"It’s not some great warrior, it’s the warchief himself."

If Callius did well, might a vision sword come out?

‘Of course not.'

A spirit sword was his Maginot Line.

However, even among spirit swords, there were differences in class.

Realistically, he didn't think a vision sword was in the cards. For a vision sword to appear, the influence and potential possessed by the victim had to be top-notch.

Considering the circumstances –

The warchief hadn't been at that level.

But what about a top-notch spirit sword?

"It's worth looking forward to."

One who'd plunged the North into chaos.

A warchief who'd united several orc tribes into a single corps for his invasion.

Hadn't he also trod a half-step into the Master's realm?

Without Elburton weakening him in advance, without the help of the Strong Sword and the Storm Sword, and without the cheat characteristics called Death Verse Composition as well as Bernard's sacrifice, the orc general had been an opponent Callius could've never dreamed of defeating.

So, his expectations were only reasonable.

"With reverence…"

Calm your mind, clear as a mirror and still as water.

There was no other emotion in the grey eyes that slowly opened.

Eliminate personal feelings, focus only on the image of the warchief's corpse turning into a sword, and call on God.

"O God."

O Great God of the Sword.

"I offer to you the flesh of this foolish heretic."

Please embrace him in Your arms.

Let the lost twilight become the rising dawn, so we can repent of our sins. This handful of rust shall be Your libation.

"Rise."

O new Sword of God.

Editor's Notes:

[1] 효율충 (lit. efficient insect) – similar to the EN gaming slang munchkin, one who minmaxes beyond all rules and reason to pursue extreme "efficiency" in gameplay.

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