I Can See the Sword’s Memories

Chapter 43: Promotion Exam (3)

Despite having only one arm, Raynard wielded two swords simultaneously. 

The movements of the blades slicing through the air were as fluid as they had been before.

The mana threads…

The blades were controlled by the azure threads emanating from Raynard’s right hand. 

The long threads coiled around the swords, guiding their movements.

These were maneuvers impossible for a human arm. One blade would disappear from sight, only to reappear aiming for the back of my head. I had to retreat hastily, dodging the strike.

“How is it? Impressive, isn’t it?”

Raynard’s ever-narrowed eyes curved softly as he smiled. He flicked his right-hand sword lightly, and the connected thread-guided blade followed with precision, cutting through the air.

Impressive, indeed. It was a troublesome style to face. I nodded reluctantly.

“Yes…”

His determination was admirable. Even after losing an arm, he hadn’t abandoned the sword and had found a way to compensate for his loss. Despite his usual easygoing demeanor, Raynard had an unshakable core of resolve.

“I’m coming again!”

He dashed forward, his movements on the snow-covered ground resembling a snake gliding smoothly. The trailing sword, tethered by the mana threads, swayed like a serpent’s tail.

Clang—!

Still, there were openings. My cold, focused gaze tracked Raynard’s every move. When his center of gravity shifted, gaps appeared.

The absence of the arm that once stabilized his movements created flaws in his stance. I aimed for those gaps. As my light foot struck the training ground’s floor, a burst of force erupted.

Azure mana radiated outward, scattering the snow around me. True Step, Mana Burst. Concepts foreign to this world swirled in my mind, blending into my movements.

None of that mattered. My focus remained on the opponent before me. Through the violent winds and swirling snow, I spotted Raynard.

Even as his stance crumbled, his right hand moved faintly. The motion transmitted along the thread, sending the smaller sword hurtling toward me.

I rotated my right hand swiftly, and the white blade that extended forward parried the incoming strike.

Clink!

It worked. I had achieved my objective: Raynard’s upper body was now completely exposed. His two blades had failed their attack, and it was my turn to strike.

I planted my left foot firmly into the ground, igniting a fierce surge of mana. The energy raced from my heart, carrying a biting chill, before concentrating into my left fist.

“This…!”

Raynard’s urgent voice escaped just as my small hand struck his abdomen. The dull sound of impact reverberated, and his body staggered backward.

One step, two steps, three steps. As my opponent retreated, I advanced relentlessly. The momentum was mine. The wind and air around me seemed to whisper that it was my time.

I allowed my body to flow with that momentum. Like a dragon riding the current of a rushing river, I roared forward with overwhelming force.

“Ha-yah!”

At that moment, I felt a strong resistance at the tip of my blade, as though someone had grabbed it and was pulling it back.

Quickly, my eyes darted to the blade’s tip. Surrounding it were shimmering azure threads, coiling tightly around the sword.

Threads…?

Following the threads with my gaze, I spotted one of Raynard’s swords lying on the ground. The blade that had previously been flying through the air was now discarded.

He had abandoned control of his own sword to bind mine. His intent to press the advantage and secure victory was evident.

Then, an enormous inspiration pierced through my mind—a chance to absorb knowledge without suspicion.

I yanked my sword hard, engaging in a contest of strength. The opposing force was considerable, exceeding my own.

But that didn’t matter. I hadn’t planned to prolong this tug-of-war. As I pulled, I delivered a heavy left-handed strike. 

My palm, imbued with the force of a bear’s might, slammed into Raynard, sending him stumbling backward.

Immediately, I released my grip on the sword. Freed from my hand, the White Dragon Sword floated in the air, controlled by the threads. As the blade’s shimmering white form dimmed, I surged forward instead of retreating.

Boom!

I struck the training ground floor with my foot once again. The resulting shockwave lifted Raynard’s discarded sword off the ground.

I didn’t stop. The airborne sword seemed to respond to my will, flying into my grasp as if it belonged there.

At that instant, my mind ignited. A torrent of memories surged forth, imprinting themselves into my consciousness.

It wasn’t necessary to fully process the memories contained within the sword. I didn’t intend to utilize the specific swordsmanship here and now. 

All I needed was foresight—to predict my opponent’s movements by observing the preceding motions.

Phantom Swordsmanship (사영검).

The foundation of the technique was the swordsmanship of a renowned family, refined over generations. 

Upon leaving that family, the practitioner had incorporated their own innovations. 

The result was a style that required two swords to compensate for its inherent flaws.

I didn’t need to know about your family matters…

Yet, the blessing I bore forced me to learn even what I wished to ignore. I couldn’t selectively take only what I needed.

Shhhk!

Perhaps I had lingered in my thoughts too long. Lost in the flood of memories, I registered Raynard’s incoming attack a moment too late.

A sword hurtled toward me. Its trajectory unfolded in my mind, traced by his movements and breathing.

Snake’s Cleave.

The slash would descend diagonally from the upper right to the lower left. I had predicted the motion based on his earlier actions.

But something was different. His wrist twisted.

The attack concluded with the shadow of the serpent preparing to diverge.

Ssssshh!

The blade, like a serpent, grazed my cheek as it flew past. Instead of blocking, I let it slide by, redirecting its path. 

The White Dragon Sword, tethered by mana threads, followed closely, cutting through the air toward me.

Clang!

I parried the attack, frowning slightly. The timing of the strikes felt oddly off—a result of swordsmanship executed not by human hands but through the manipulation of tools.

Clang! Clang!

Still, it didn’t matter. All of Raynard’s attacks were fundamentally grounded in swordsmanship. Any discrepancies could be compensated with my own skill and technique.

I moved with ease, predicting where each attack would come from and positioning myself accordingly. My short blade swung lightly, claiming dominance over the space around me.

“Not bad…”

“She’s reading all his attacks… Does she just have sharp eyes?”

The murmurs of the spectators carried on the wind as I exhaled deeply, taking larger, steadier breaths.

Hoo…

The frosty mana coursing through me began to shift. I forcefully disrupted the continuous cycle of the White Dragon Core Technique, replacing it with something else.

A sharp pain radiated from my heart, spreading through my body. 

The abrupt change in my mana flow sent a shock through my internal energy channels.

Just for a moment…

It was fine. I ignored the pain, trusting my body’s durability to endure it. The unstable technique consumed my mana hungrily, preparing for what was needed—a single decisive moment to seize control of the battlefield.

Wooong—

From my small body, an overwhelming presence surged forth, painting a vast sky within the arena. The aura, commanding and tyrannical, enveloped the space, reigning supreme like an emperor.

In the next instant, Raynard found himself staring at the familiar edge of a blade hovering near his neck.

“Oh…”

His eyes widened in shock. For a brief moment, the immense pressure of the unseen “sky” caused him to lose track of my movements. What had I done? A faint question lingered in his mind.

“What was that just now?”

“Raynard seemed completely out of it…”

“Was he rattled because his attacks kept getting blocked?”

The murmurs from the onlookers only deepened the mystery. It seemed no one else had felt the “sky” I had projected.

Magic, sorcery, blessings—various mysterious powers swirled in Raynard’s thoughts as he struggled to make sense of what had just occurred.

I stared quietly at Raynard, who seemed lost in his own musings, gazing absentmindedly around the arena as though the outcome of the duel itself wasn’t his primary concern.

Would things have been different if we had fought with everything we had? I shook my head. I didn’t want to wield my sword with lethal intent against a comrade who shared the same goals. I doubted anyone here felt differently.

“Senior.”

“Huh? Oh?”

“My sword.”

At my pointed remark, Raynard nodded, and we exchanged swords, each blade returning to its rightful owner. I glanced at my palm, flexing my small fingers thoughtfully.

There was a tinge of regret. If I had held on to his sword a bit longer, I might have gleaned even more from it.

“Winner! Saeorin!”

Kanok’s announcement echoed across the training grounds, and the Azure Wings members nodded in agreement.

“She already has the skills of a mid-level knight. There’s no issue with her promotion.”

“They said this cohort of recruits was exceptional… The others might be worth watching too.”

“Raynard’s determination is impressive. He may not be ready for senior rank, but he can hold his position as a mid-level knight.”

It dawned on me belatedly—Raynard’s true intent. He had used this duel as a way to prove his own worth despite his lost arm.

I didn’t feel upset. I respected those who strove to improve. The life I glimpsed through Raynard’s memories confirmed this about him.

No matter how great the despair that blocked his path, he would always find a way forward, smiling as he did.

Retrieving my sword, I patted my chest with my right hand. Raynard, watching me, tilted his head curiously.

“Why are you patting your chest? Oh, wait—is it growing pains?”

I was at a loss for words.