Chapter 126 : Chapter 126

Translator: AkazaTL

Pr/Ed: Sol IX

***

Chapter 126 – Cherville (5)

Did Liam say that other ancestors of mine were here as well? My master’s words were right. From the moment I faced the spirits, I could clearly feel the energy that radiated from them—an energy that resembled steel. There was no need for conversation, nor any proof to be exchanged.

The blood running through my veins reacted to them, and surely, they felt the same. Just as I instinctively knew they were my ancestors, they must have felt that I was their descendant.

“It’s been a long time,” said the spirit who wore the appearance of an old man.

“The Steel Blood has grown much thinner compared to our time.”

“That’s not entirely a bad thing. If he’d been born with blood as dense as ours, he wouldn’t have survived to this day. He’d have died before he even had a chance to ripen properly.”

“Vermartin was the eighth… no, the ninth guardian, wasn’t he? When you think that nine have already passed through us, the blood should have thinned out by now.”

Thinned blood. They spoke the same words as Liam. As the spirits conversed among themselves, I opened my mouth.

“What is this place?”

At my question, they finally stopped talking.

“Ah, forgive us. We were talking among ourselves without explaining anything. You wouldn’t know, but we’ve been waiting a long time. It’s been ages since we’ve spoken to anyone other than ourselves.”

“From the sound of it, Sir Vermartin and the others must have come here before me, haven’t they?”

“Yes, they did. But they couldn’t see us or speak to us. Only a Karavan can sense us—only they can communicate with us.”

“Yes. Only those who can hear the voice of the sword.”

Then, the spirits began to explain.

“As we said earlier, this place is called The Land of the Small Sword. It is an independent spiritual realm created by three Swordmasters of the Karavan family, who once rested in eternal peace. Even the Nine Goddesses and Seven Lords know nothing of what happens here. This place belongs solely to us.”

“……”

“The reason we, long since departed from the mortal world, spent our willpower to create such a realm within the Middle World is simple: to ensure that the name of Karavan would never vanish completely from the world.”

Their eyes shone with fierce light.

“When Karavan’s power weakened, the world began erasing us from history. They erased our name, our traces, divided our achievements among themselves, and proudly called them their own.”

“……”

“We didn’t care. As time passed, Karavan lost its glory and the sharpness of its blade. History is written by the victors, and the world moves by the logic of strength—there was no grievance in being forgotten. But…”

“What we could not forgive was that they hunted down and slaughtered every last descendant of Karavan’s blood. It wasn’t through rightful duels or battles. Even those who’d never held a sword, who lived peaceful lives, were slaughtered. We could no longer bear to watch our innocent descendants bleed.”

The spirit with the appearance of an old man. A spirit shaped as a young man. And another, in the form of a beautiful woman.

“So we created this realm. Then we sought the faithful and taught them. In exchange for that teaching, we made them promise—if they ever found a Karavan who survived and was worthy, they were to bring them here.”

“Those we’ve taught number nine already. Just when our patience was about to run dry, the ninth guardian, Vermartin, brought you to us. You, who have survived, and who are worthy.”

The three spirits spoke as one. Their voices flowed together, and from them, I understood what this place was and why it was made. Then I asked,

“What did you teach Sir Vermartin? Did you also teach him the truth of the Karavan family? Is that why he, a human, knew about the forgotten Karavan?”

“Yes, we told him. That there once was an Age of Steel, that Karavan existed, and that the world had forgotten us. Vermartin likely knows even more than you do. Since the world erased Karavan from history, even Karavan itself must have forgotten its own history.”

“What we taught him was a simple sword—swordsmanship that pursues steel. Another form of Steel that can be wielded even without Steel Blood. It was originally a self-defense sword style our servants learned.”

Even Karavan forgot its own history. That was an apt expression. Despite inheriting the Steel Blood, I knew little about the family. The old stories my father used to tell me were all I knew of Karavan. I fell silent for a while, then looked up again and asked,

“I have another question.”

“You’re quite curious, aren’t you?”

“Ask, as much as you wish.”

I looked at the three spirits one by one.

“What can you give me?”

Now then.

“This poor descendant places his faith only in his ancestors. With not a single family member or relative left alive, the only ones I can rely on are you, my ancestors. I wish to survive in this cruel world—so please, grant me something truly valuable. Truly, truly valuable.”

Time to put on a thick face of steel.

***

“Hmm. Now I see how you survived this long. The Steel Blood awakened not only your Mana Heart and Wings, but also your face. This is almost a Steel Face level of shamelessness.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“To think Karavan’s dignity has fallen so low…”

Dignity? This was something I’d learned from the greatest Karavan of all, my master—the greatest Swordmaster himself. To look down on the secret art of our founder, Liam Karavan—the Steel Face—what an outrage.

“Unfortunately, there’s not much we can give.”

“I heard that Sir Vermartin rose from a mere swordsman to a Knight Commander thanks to your teachings. Wouldn’t that kind of instruction help me as well?”

“What Vermartin learned was a servant’s sword style. It took him decades of effort to reach his current position. Would you like to invest decades too? From what we see, you don’t seem to have that kind of time.”

“You’re right. I don’t have much time.”

Decades of training? That was madness. So I asked,

“Is there no powerful weapon or artifact passed down through the Karavan line?”

“There isn’t. The Karavan family wields their own souls as their weapon.”

“Ah.”

“What we can offer is this: we can teach you a fragment of forgotten history, the true way to wield the Wings of Steel, and—”

“And?”

“—and the way to survive. That is all.”

The way to survive. At those words, my brow twitched. Then the spirits said,

“We may appear pitiful in these ghostly forms, but all three of us were Swordmasters—Karavan Swordmasters who once lived during the age of glory.”

“We know that a Swordmaster loved by the gods is chasing you. We can teach you a way to escape him—not temporarily, but forever.”

“……Escape, you say?”

The spirits nodded at my words.

“Yes. It’s not very Karavan-like, we know. We never intended to run either, at first. But looking at you now, we’ve judged that it’s impossible to make you a Swordmaster in a short time.”

“Your blood is too thin, and your talent far too meager.”

“If you’d been born in the Era of War, you’d have been dead already.”

And they didn’t stop there.

“Think carefully. You are the last Karavan. If you die, the Karavan name will vanish completely. We cannot allow that.”

“Karavan must continue. No matter what.”

Their voices grew heavier, the air pressing around me. But I shook my head calmly.

“No, I will not run.”

Their faces twisted.

“Even if we force you to?”

“If you can, go ahead and try.”

I stared straight at them.

“I walk with the greatest Karavan. My master, my farthest ancestor and master, told me that if I followed him, I would achieve my vengeance. I believe in my master. When it comes to the sword, he is never wrong.”

It was pure sincerity. Liam had said it himself—if I wished for revenge, if I wished to achieve my goal, to walk with him. I still hadn’t forgotten that voice of the sword I’d heard that day. A silence lingered after my words. Then—

“The greatest Karavan?”

“No way…”

“……Child, did you eat the sword left behind by our Founder?”

Their faces turned cold. Instead of answering, I nodded. A groan escaped their mouths.

“Why… why would you do something so foolish?”

Foolish? I hadn’t expected that word.

“Why such a reaction?”

“……Karavan truly has forgotten its history. I suppose that’s why you committed the madness of swallowing the sword left behind by the Founder. You didn’t know—so you could swallow it without hesitation.”

“……?”

“Child, it’s not too late. Spit that sword back out. If you don’t know how, we’ll teach you. Expelling a digested soul isn’t difficult. It’s still not too late—so please, spit out the sword the Founder left behind. Alright?”

I couldn’t understand their reaction at all.

“Why are you saying this?”

At my question, the spirits spoke.

“Our Founder, Liam Karavan, was indeed a great Swordmaster. Even if you gathered all the Swordmasters that ever appeared across the continent, none could reach his toes. But that’s as far as it goes. He was a great swordsman—but not a good man. In truth, he was a terrible one.”

A terrible man. That didn’t fit the Liam Karavan I knew. He could be harsh and difficult, yes, but terrible? Never.

“The reason the world erased Karavan from history was because of the Founder’s deeds. Do you know what we suffered because of the sins he left behind? We became the only family abandoned by the Seven Lords and Nine Goddesses. Every nation on the continent grew hostile and wary of us. Countless races came to hate us.”

“……”

“After the Founder left the Middle World, we had to fight every kingdom on the continent. We even waged war against the union of the five races. So, spit out that sword. Did you take that power because you needed it? We’ll help you regain what you’ve lost. It’s not too late. Undo your foolish choice.”

Their words didn’t sound like lies.

“The Founder made the world his enemy. After he departed, we were left to face that world—and we lost, because we were far weaker than he.”

Their eyes fell upon me.

“The Founder was too strong. No one could meet his expectations. No one could follow him. If he truly took you as his disciple, then once again he will demand the impossible. You will never meet his expectations. You will break—utterly.”

There was no anger in their eyes—only pity.

“We told you before, this place is The Land of the Small Sword. It was modeled after another place. In the spiritual world, there exists a true Land of Swords—the final resting place of all blades. And the one who rules and governs that place is our Founder, Liam Karavan.”

“All of us have seen him. The one who makes even Swordmasters look pitiful, before whom even the Seven Lords and Nine Goddesses tremble. The master of all swords—the being who stands at the summit of existence.”

“No Karavan remains there. For those who remember history know that it was because of him that Karavan fell. Some even chose to descend into hell rather than follow him again.”

The spirits spoke earnestly.

“To walk with our Founder is foolishness. He does not seek Karavan’s survival or harmony. What he desires is the rebirth of one like himself—to restore the Age of Steel. That alone is his wish.”

“Take our hand. We’ll teach you the way to flee, to live in peace and hide forever. So please—”

“Hmm.”

I cut them off.

“Thank you for your concern. But tell me—”

“……?”

“Why do you think this descendant would ever wish to run, or survive, or live in peace? I can’t understand that at all.”

And then— I spoke my truth.

“I won’t meet my master’s expectations. I’ll break, you say. Yes, I agree. Compared to him, I am a dull, insignificant sword. But if I cannot grow stronger, then I’d rather break. I may shatter, but I will not bend.”

“……”

“Run? There’s no retreat left in my life. I’d rather die than live under the same sky as that man. I’d rather end my own life. The extinction of the Karavan line? I couldn’t care less. The only thing I want is strength—nothing else. And frankly, nothing you can offer me compares to what my master can give.”

Peace? That’s not what I seek. You relics of an old age.

“So I’ll ask again. What can you give me? You’d better offer something valuable—something that’ll let this descendant survive the fierce battles ahead. Because once I lose even a single fight, Karavan truly will vanish from the world. I am the last Karavan on this continent, and I will not stop until I have my revenge.”

“……”

“If you don’t want Karavan to disappear forever, then give me something worthy—something that will let me live through it all. I’ll survive to the very end, die to no one, just as you wish.”

You don’t want Karavan to vanish. The moment I heard that, I knew. In this negotiation, I held absolute power. I was the only living, last Karavan. So—

“Hurry up and give it. I’m getting dizzy.”

Spit out something useful, ancestors.