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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: The True Dawn Swordsmanship
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"A proposal for collaboration?"
Havel heard Scarlett's offer relayed through Dante.
He hadn't expected word of their climb up the 2nd hierarchy cliff to spread so quickly.
'Oh ho, this is quite a nice situation.'
The response was better than anticipated.
Any publicity for the Banpellyon name was good publicity.
The fact that proposals were coming in meant interest was gathering.
All that remained was to turn that interest into fame.
"I can't accept that."
Dante suddenly flared up.
Why this all of a sudden?
"This is all your achievement, Havel. I can't claim I accomplished it. It's absurd."
Ah, that was the issue.
Typical inflexible Dante.
"I'll go correct it right away."
"Doesn't matter to me."
While Dante fumed, Havel calmly picked at his ear with his pinky.
"Just take the credit."
"Pardon? But!"
"No buts. It's the right move if you want to save Banpellyon."
He had once represented the family under his own name.
This time, the plan was to start by raising Dante's name.
As long as Banpellyon was mentioned alongside it, that was answer enough.
"So no corrections. Got it?"
"That's..."
Dante couldn't agree with Havel, yet he couldn't bring himself to say no.
Instead, he hemmed and hawed without a proper reply.
His face soured; he clearly hated stealing someone else's credit.
Man, what a straight-laced guy.
This might need more talking.
"Dante, I stopped caring about that kind of credit ages ago."
As the Sword Saint, Havel had plastered his name everywhere until he was sick of it.
Super rookie titles felt embarrassing now.
Like an adult barging into kids' play.
Too shameful.
"Fame and titles don't represent true strength. They're just words to describe someone."
Even those with countless honors died helplessly in the Demonic Palace.
Their fame and titles meant nothing before death.
In the end, only the strong survived.
'Even me.'
Without regression and immortality, he'd be a corpse in the Demonic Palace.
Before calamity, only luck and skill mattered.
"What counts is knowing who you are. But you're carrying Banpellyon on your back."
Dante's shoulders twitched.
Havel smiled generously.
It reminded him of long ago, training knight order recruits.
"So you making a name for yourself is saving Banpellyon. Get it now?"
"...Yes."
Dante finally accepted.
His blue eyes sparkled brightly—Havel liked that.
"Still, don't get too drunk on fame."
Obsess over it, realize it's meaningless, and people crumble easily.
Advice from a life veteran.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Dante mulled over the words.
'Such a stiff guy.'
Curiosity struck Havel.
'I'm the former head, so I get it, but...'
Dante's loyalty to Banpellyon was puzzling.
To a fallen Banpellyon, no less.
'No real gain in it, right?'
Banpellyon was crumbling for real now.
'To me, Dante's still a green kid.'
To others, he was a proper knight.
A top prospect, at that.
Havel saw high potential in him.
Top of knight academy wasn't easy.
"Dante, why have you stuck with Banpellyon this long?"
Time to ask directly.
Where did that loyalty come from?
"Reason for following Banpellyon?"
"Back then, maybe, but it's fallen now."
Havel felt guilty about that part.
"No reason I can see for you to stay."
Even sworn loyalists were now bleached bones.
The line of loyalty had long snapped.
Dante fell silent.
They had reached the 3rd hierarchy entrance.
"About a century ago, my ancestor received a lifelong debt of gratitude from Banpellyon."
"Gratitude?"
"My ancestor was a war orphan, parents lost in the Unification War."
Unification War—Havel recalled it instantly.
Before Unified Empire Arhan.
Wars erupted daily between nations.
Havel had finally grabbed his sword out of disgust.
"Enemy forces raided the village right then. Ancestor was captured."
War orphan prisoner.
No one would save them.
As death loomed...
"One man broke through the enemy knights into the POW camp."
Injured, he felled all the knights alone.
Then guarded the prisoners' escape.
And collapsed at the end.
By arrival, he was at his physical limit.
He was the famed Sword Saint.
"After, the war orphan found purpose: become a Banpellyon knight like the Sword Saint."
The boy chased that dream, achieved after Sword Saint and Dawn Knights left for Demonic Palace.
He protected crumbling Banpellyon to carry it on.
"That's where my stubbornness comes from."
Dante's eyes shone, recalling his father telling the tale.
"We stubborn ones are here to repay ancestor's dream and Banpellyon's grace."
Without Banpellyon, they wouldn't exist.
Repay the grace of being born.
That was Dante's creed.
"So I'll rebuild Banpellyon."
To proudly repay the Sword Saint someday.
Havel let out a hollow chuckle watching him.
He barely remembered the POW incident.
Too long ago.
Story might be distorted.
But one thing: his actions weren't meaningless.
'What a shame.'
Missed a fine knight due to Demonic Palace.
But his lineage lived on here.
"Havel..."
Dante started to ask, then stopped.
Havel worked harder for Banpellyon than anyone.
Yet asking why felt wrong.
Knowing the truth might make him vanish.
Havel was here, yet not.
An enigmatic man.
"...Nothing."
"Alright. Let's go."
Havel turned toward the 3rd hierarchy.
Dante followed.
Feeling he mustn't lose sight of him.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Entering the 3rd hierarchy, rain scent hit first.
Drip, splatter!
Havel felt rain trickling down his forehead.
It quickly turned to downpour.
Roarrrrr!
'Pouring hard.'
Floors flooded to ankles instantly.
Kaboom!
Lightning cracked amid rain, booming fiercely.
The tower climbers' worst low-floor ordeal.
This was the 3rd hierarchy: Thunderstrike Zone.
The zone's biggest issue? The rainwater.
It held strange power.
Touch skin, absorb inside.
Accumulate enough, it gains will, tries to control you.
Like a parasite.
Climbers protected with aura constantly.
Or lose body to rain.
"Aside from rain, nothing much."
Yet Havel strolled calmly through downpour.
This rain? Just ambiance.
"Rain hurts like hell."
Dante followed, aura efficient as possible.
'Without Havel's training, I'd never pass.'
Felt training's value again.
"Spoke too soon."
Something pinged Havel's senses.
Calamity spawn burst through rain.
It was human-shaped.
Pale, bloodless skin.
Body bloated like drowned.
Calamity spawn.
Rain-possessed wanderer.
Rain Humans.
Bodies like water balloons filled with rain.
Hit, they burst, splashing rain everywhere.
Best to avoid usually.
Havel eyed impassively.
Just grotesque mess.
"Guwegek!"
Water jet shot from mouth at Havel.
Force to pierce flesh easy.
Havel deflected with hand.
Splat!
Deflected jet whipped back, smashing Rain Human.
Head and torso half gone.
But it didn't die.
Bodies moved by rain anyway.
"Havel!"
Dante called urgently.
More Rain Humans appearing.
Kaboom!
Lightning lit their horrors clear.
"Odd. Rain Humans don't swarm like this."
Havel agreed: too many.
Normally four or five packs.
Now? Thousands felt.
'No, more.'
Havel frowned.
Numbers kept growing.
Like under tower orders.
'Those letters from last time?'
Tower uneasy with his climb.
"Dante, breakthrough."
"Yes!"
Havel charged Rain Humans; Dante followed.
Swords swung, Rain Humans fell.
But endless horde.
Soon surrounded completely.
Front, back, sides.
Nothing but Rain Humans.
Roarrrrr!
Downpour narrowed vision.
Kraka boom!
Lightning poised to strike.
Normal mind would break.
'Too many.'
Even strong-willed Dante felt unease.
Havel swung unfazed.
Always forward.
Dante steeled seeing it.
If Havel doesn't break, no impassable path.
He'd experienced it.
Havel never bends.
Boom, crash!
Indiscernible time swinging swords.
Then, amid lightning, Rain Humans showed anomalies.
Rear ones broke formation suddenly.
Fleeing?
Bad premonition hit Dante.
"Havel!"
"I know."
Havel spotted it.
Rain Humans converging one spot.
"Bewek, ek."
All orifices spewing rain.
Spewed rain forming shape.
Absorbing more like.
Shape grew huge.
Chill!
Gooseflesh on Dante's arms.
Dangerous.
Stop it now.
"Dante."
Havel's eyes gleamed instead.
Decent foe after ages.
"First time here, I said just same name."
Dante eyed doubtfully.
Seen glimpse of power.
Knew not ordinary.
Words rang true.
"No way, really Sword Saint..."
"No one lives that long."
Havel cut him off.
"Just..."
For family, continued.
"The one who knows true Banpellyon swordsmanship."
Watched Dante's swordplay long.
Banpellyon techniques lost?
Banpellyon knight Dante not using.
Words full contradictions.
Yet Dante felt he mustn't shatter them.
Swallowed rising questions.
"...Banpellyon swordsmanship?"
Ask what Havel meant now.
Learned Dawn Swordsmanship from father.
Father said fragment of true.
Havel knows true one?
How?
But excitement surged first.
If true Dawn Swordsmanship...
Knew what coming.
"Dawn is light piercing darkness first."
Then pure white light rose from Havel's sword.
Under thunderclouds.
Dante stared entranced at light piercing dark, shining transparent.
Kaboom!
Lightning struck anomaly.
Stirred clustered rain.
Signal for completion.
Thousands Rain Humans formed giant serpent, eyes open.
No—Dante knew it.
Imoogi, failed dragon spirit.
Lightning swirling inside rain imoogi: calamity itself.
Havel calmly raised sword before it.
"When darkness falls, sword becomes brightest light."
"Geeeeek!"
Imoogi roared at Havel.
Building-sized, smashing Rain Humans charging.
Scale beyond human sense.
Would break normal will.
Havel held sword steady.
Shining bright in storm.
"If you aim Banpellyon knight, etch in eyes."
Rain imoogi reached nose.
"This is."
Havel's sword fell.
"True Banpellyon sword."
Light from sword engulfed area.
――――!
Swallowed even sound.
Light faded; Dante slowly opened eyes.
Astounding sight.
Nothing left.
No rain imoogi, no Rain Humans, no thunderclouds.
Sunny rays poured where clouds gone.
Endless blue moss fields under blue sky.
Dawn light devoured night, revealing 3rd hierarchy true face.
Dante gazed trembling at Havel.
Dawn Swordsmanship.
Havel named it thus.
"Congratulations on the purest morning."
The Sword Saint's return.