Chapter 77 : Sleep Came Often

The Knight of Frost returned.

Broken, battered—empty-handed.

He knelt on one knee before the throne and confessed to the king.

He had failed his mission.

The royal court was thrown into chaos.

They tried desperately to conceal the truth, but rumors could not be stopped.

The Knight of Frost had been defeated!

The Red-Eyed Devil had brought him down!

The tale spread like wildfire.

“What? The Knight of Frost was defeated?”

The Knight of Frost was a king’s knight.

The king’s strongest knight, who had never known defeat.

Not once had he failed a mission.

The idea of him losing was beyond imagination.

So mighty was he in the eyes of the people that they whispered he was something beyond human, an inhuman being.

Some even joked that if he were cut, no blood would flow.

And yet, he had returned defeated.

The First Prince asked,

“Is this true?”

“Yes, Your Highness! I saw it with my own eyes. His armor was torn to shreds, nothing more than rags, his body frozen and bloodied.”

“……!”

“As Your Highness knows, the Knight of Frost left under royal decree to slay the so-called Red-Eyed Devil who killed Baron Barankia. Seeing him return like this, who else could have done it?”

The First Prince’s eyes widened.

He gave a sharp order.

“Find the Red-Eyed Devil. Bring him to me, no matter the cost. Promise him gold, titles—anything he wants. Just bring him before me!”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

The Second Prince, upon hearing the news, leapt to his feet.

“The Red-Eyed Devil… defeated the Knight of Frost?”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

“…Hard to believe.”

“But it is true.”

“Then we must find him at once! If we can win him to our side, I can push my brother aside! Spare no expense, use any means necessary. Find him and bring him here!”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

The crime of killing a noble no longer mattered.

Before overwhelming power, all else was meaningless.

Both princes unleashed their forces to track the Red-Eyed Devil.

Meanwhile, the Black Prince received a letter from Count Stavanger.

Its contents were so shocking that he reread it several times, doubting his eyes.

“…He claims to have the Red-Eyed Devil?”

The Black Prince shot to his feet.

“Prepare my horse!”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Though the journey was long, he did not hesitate.

With his knights, he set out immediately for the Stavanger domain.

“Haahm…”

I yawned loudly, scratching my ear.

“Someone must be talking about me. Why’s it so itchy?”

Shushruta clicked her tongue.

“Go wash.”

“I did.”

For the first time in ages, I rested.

I ate my fill. Slept as much as I wanted.

My scattered inner energy had fully recovered.

The pain that stabbed through me whenever I moved was gone.

It had been so long since I could relax like this that it felt strange.

At any moment I half expected the count to burst in with his knights, laughing, “Just kidding!” as they leveled their swords at me.

“…Tch.”

On second thought, that was a stupid fantasy.

Had I been chased too long?

We’d depart in search of the Demon Sword as soon as my arm healed.

For now, my left arm remained splinted.

The Stavanger family’s gray-haired doctor replaced the bandages and remarked,

“Your recovery is remarkably fast. At this rate, it may not even take a full month.”

A month? Far too long.

“Can’t it be sooner?” I asked.

“Even a month is extraordinary.”

“I have urgent business. Isn’t there any way to heal faster?”

The doctor gave me a long look.

“If you wish to heal quickly, don’t swing a sword.”

I looked away sheepishly.

I’d borrowed Sir Walpole’s sword a few times, only to get caught and scolded. Poor Walpole was scolded right along with me for lending it.

When you’re injured, the doctor’s word is law.

Even the Knight of Frost wouldn’t be exempt.

So I resigned myself to meditation.

With no swordplay allowed, all I could do was cultivate.

Ever since breaking past that wall barring the path to the Realm of Moonlight, I often dreamed during cultivation—always of a moonlit lake’s surface.

Why, I didn’t know.

Sleep came often.

The doctor explained that healing consumed vast energy, which in turn made one drowsy.

It was, he said, a good sign.

Hm… maybe he was right.

So I kept slipping into slumber during cultivation.

I slept more than half the day.

Whenever I awoke to giggling, I’d find Shushruta and Joy scribbling on the bandages around my splint.

Scrawled messages like: “Shushruta the Shadowless Phantom Thief was here, companion of Ashuban.”

“Uncle is a sleepyhead.”

“They say sleepyheads are beauties, so why aren’t you…?”

“I’ll officiate the wedding!”

No wonder the doctor always struggled to keep a straight face while changing the bandages.

I had no idea when those two had become so close.

But thinking on it, with their matching childishness, perhaps it wasn’t so strange.

“…I can’t take this anymore.”

Staying still day after day, my body itched for movement.

Whenever I tried sneaking off with a sword, the knights posted nearby stopped me without fail. They were the doctor’s loyal watchdogs.

It drove me to the brink of madness.

Finally, I made up my mind.

I spoke with deadly seriousness.

“Shushruta.”

She sat at the window with her legs dangling outside, and turned her head toward me.

“A mission.”

“A mission?”

“We’re escaping the knights’ eyes. I can’t stand this idleness any longer. Let’s slip into the woods nearby and swing our swords.”

Her face lit up.

“Oh, that sounds fun.”

“Hang the sign on the door.”

“Got it.”

While I readied my sword, she hung the wooden placard outside and locked the door.

It was the same sign I always put up during cultivation—roughly meaning Do not disturb, meditating.

Perfect.

We’d slip out and back in without anyone the wiser.

No chance the doctor would catch us.

I drew up my inner energy, letting the wind’s path surge through me.

Whoosh!

Air whipped across my body, lifting my hair.

My lightness skill had improved greatly during my days of running from pursuit.

But the knights here were leagues above those back in Barankia.

It wouldn’t be easy to slip past their hawk-like eyes.

So I closed my eyes tightly, then opened them again.

The world bled crimson, and ghostly screams rang in my ears.

A man using his ultimate technique just to sneak out and slack off.

That man was me.

[Unbelievable…]

The Heavenly Demon let out a long sigh before scolding me.

[You fool. Didn’t I tell you to restrain yourself? That power is unstable at best. Do you mean to fall into deviation?]

“Relax, Master. I’m only using it for a bit of lightness skill. Just that much should be fine. A little practice won’t hurt.”

[Hah… Words go in one ear and out the other. How did I end up trapped in the mind of someone like you?]

“Come now, why so stiff? One should live flexibly.”

Shushruta flinched when she saw me.

“Ashuban, your eyes are terrifying.”

I grinned.

“Not just the eyes.”

“Ugh.”

At last, she turned her gaze away.

I chuckled.

“Shushruta. Lead the way.”

“Got it.”

Like two free streams of wind, we leapt out through the window.

Of course, no knight spotted us.

If they had, after I even used my ultimate technique, that would’ve been a real tragedy.

Once we slipped beyond the annex, I dispelled the blood-red world, savoring the refreshing freedom as we darted about.

The Stavanger estate grounds were vast.

There were forests, hills, even a small stream.

My quarters stood in the far rear of the main mansion, fairly distant and seldom visited.

Still, we made for the forest to be safe.

There, we found a clearing perfect for sword practice.

Tap.

I landed and muttered with satisfaction.

“Escape successful.”

Basking in the warm sunlight, I stretched my body.

Shushruta asked,

“You’re going to train?”

“Yeah.”

“Be careful not to move your left arm.”

“Of course.”

She climbed into a nearby tree, chewing on dried fruit as she watched.

I drew the sword I had brought with me.

It was the second blade Sir Roetgel had gifted me.

Now, it was in ruins.

The Knight of Frost’s handiwork.

“…I’ve no face to show Sir Roetgel after this.”

I gently infused the sword with inner energy.

Scarlet aura seeped into the broken halves, and the blade let out a strange, brief cry.

Eeeing—

Perhaps because the sword was broken, its voice sounded odd.

I ignored it and pushed in more energy.

The aura stretched out from the broken edge, lengthening further and further.

I continued until it reached the weapon’s original length.

[Enough. Focus your mind.]

I concentrated, guiding the energy.

The aura wrapped around the broken blade, undulating at my will.

I imagined the sword whole again, and shaped the aura accordingly.

It condensed, crimson and flowing, filling the missing half.

Then I honed its edge, making it sharp and solid, like a true blade.

It demanded enormous concentration—an arduous task.

“…”

At last, a complete sword lay in my hand.

Though about half of it still shimmered and rippled like a river of blood.

“Let’s see.”

I swung it at the tree where Shushruta perched.

Saaak!

The thick trunk parted like paper.

Craack!

“Nyahh!”

Shushruta yelped and scrambled to a neighboring tree, clutching her snack.

I burst out laughing.

She flung the fruit at me in protest.

“Of all the trees, why that one?”

I caught the dried fruit in my mouth and chewed contentedly.

“That’s it.”

While I’d been barred from swordplay, I had practiced this in my room during cultivation breaks.

The Heavenly Demon had suggested it, saying my aura lacked firmness.

And indeed, I was satisfied.

It looked impressive, and its power rivaled a true edge.

[Keep training until the aura no longer ripples, even under a full swing. This requires extreme concentration.]

“Mm.”

[Learn to sustain it even when your mind is relaxed. Refine it to the utmost, and one day, even a twig will serve as a weapon in your hands.]

“Now that’s appealing.”

I swung the crimson blade again and again.

“Hrah! Ha! Hup!”

Red trails carved the air, leaving glowing arcs.

Each time I swung hard, the aura quivered like water, my control still lacking.

Yet it looked magnificent, like flickering flames dancing along the blade.

Perhaps this was how it felt to be a true magic swordsman.

Pleased as though I’d performed a show, I turned to Shushruta.

“Applause.”

She bit into her fruit, scowled, and clapped half-heartedly.

I scratched my neck with fake modesty.

“Aw, come on. It’s nothing worth clapping for. You’ll embarrass me.”

“…”

[…]

Having tested the crimson blade, I was just about to try forging one of starlight when—

Shushruta spoke.

“Ashuban. Someone’s coming.”

“Who?”

“That, I don’t know. But we should hide in the trees.”

I clicked my tongue, then vaulted up to perch beside her.

The branch swayed lightly, no more than if a bird had landed.

“What sort of fool wanders out here?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t they say there were quarters for servants nearby?”

“Maybe, but that’s still a fair distance.”

“Quiet. They’re in the forest.”

“Tch. I came first. Wanted to swing a bit more.”

“Stop grumbling.”

A moment later, a boy appeared in the clearing, dragging a wooden practice sword.

On closer look, not such a small child—perhaps mid-teens.

Still, I decided to call him a brat.

Because a brat is a brat.

He stepped into the clearing, scanning his surroundings.

Then he spotted the tree I had cut down.

His eyes widened.

He approached, studying the cleanly severed trunk.

For some time he traced the cut with his hand, then muttered softly,

“…Aura?”

Then, sharply, he lifted his head.

(End of Chapter)

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