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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Cyno
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“Master. You were here.”
Shura’s voice came from outside the alley. I hurriedly gathered the money and stood up.
“Yeah. You’re here? What’s up?”
Shura approached and knelt on one knee, bowing deeply. The look in her eyes as she gazed at me was filled with admiration—the reverence of a swordsman toward a Master.
Of course, the difference in skill between Shura, an Expert at the peak level, and me, a newly entered Master, was just a hair’s breadth. But that gap was as vast as a mountain. The peak of the Expert realm could be reached through mana training alone, but the Master realm was a sacred stage only attainable by those who infused their swords with their own philosophy.
That’s why many who reach the peak of Expert fall into despair, unable to ascend to Master even after decades or centuries. Imbuing one’s sword with a personal philosophy is an incredibly difficult task.
“I’ve been told your lodging for tonight has been prepared. I’ll guide you there.”
“Ah, really? Got it.”
I subtly studied Shura’s appearance.
She was an elf woman with long, straight blonde hair that reached past her waist. True to her elven heritage, she was extremely tall, with fiery red eyes that seemed to blaze fiercely. Her appearance was typical of a Moon Elf—except for her blonde hair. Moon Elves usually had black hair.
Yet, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Beneath her form-fitting leather armor, her long, slender legs made her upper body seem petite in comparison. Like all elves, she had a delicate, lovely face. Even without makeup, her skin had a soft, pale blue hue, and her lips were a vivid purple, as if painted with deep lipstick.
Her proportions and looks were like a work of art. At a glance, she seemed pure, but there was also something bewitching about her. She appeared intellectual, yet exuded a mysterious, sensual allure unlike any woman I’d ever seen.
As I approached her, a faint, intoxicating scent wafted through the air. It wasn’t perfume—there was no way an elf who didn’t even wear makeup would douse herself in fragrance.
All in all, she was a stunningly beautiful elf woman.
But she was an elf. No matter how pretty, female elves weren’t my type. They had an incredibly annoying racial trait.
As I brushed past her, I spoke.
“By the way, you—”
“Yes?”
“I took a quick look earlier, and you seem to be a peak-level Expert swordsman.”
“I’m ashamed.”
“Yeah, you should be. Honestly, what kind of swordsmanship is that for someone at the peak of Expert? You rely purely on speed and mana strength, but your technique and sword sense are worse than those who just entered Expert.”
Shura bowed her head deeply.
“I apologize.”
“Did you not have a master?”
“No.”
“Then reaching Master should be easier for you than for others.”
Shura’s eyes widened as she looked at me.
“What?”
“The truth is, a master can only guide you up to the peak of Expert. After that, you have to walk the path alone. That’s what makes a Master a Master.”
“Then…?”
“Yeah. Since you’ve struggled and trained alone to reach this point, the path to Master should be relatively smoother for you. That’s why those who had good masters often struggle to become Masters—they rely too much on them. People who depend on others, their family, or their bloodline grow weak, and such individuals can’t reach the level of Master. Only those who walk their own path can become true Masters. Remember that.”
“Yes. Thank you for your guidance.”
I paused briefly before continuing with a final piece of advice.
“But looking at your swordsmanship, your foundation is solid, yet you lack experience. Even if you walk alone, you still need to know something, right? You gain experience by seeing the wider world, fighting fiercely with others. That’s hard to do in a small village like this. Anyway, do your best.”
Shura seemed to ponder something for a moment before standing and following closely behind me.
“Master?”
“What?”
“Then… what is your path?”
“Me? Life. The joys and sorrows I feel while living.”
That’s why all my swordsmanship was geared toward survival. You have to stay alive to live your life.
“I see.”
“So, hurry up and find your own path. You need to know where you’re going before you can move forward. Otherwise, you’ll just keep spinning in place. Understand?”
“Yes.”
I sighed as I gazed at the distant sky. Though I acted all high and mighty in front of Shura, the truth was, my own path was uncertain. Beyond the Master realm lay even more treacherous paths—the realm of the Mind Master, who deals with the domain of the spirit, and beyond that, the Soul Master, who touches the realm of the soul.
Yes. As a newly entered Master, I was merely a baby who had taken its first step out of the cradle. And Shura? She was nothing more than a newborn who didn’t even know the world outside the cradle.
—
Darkness had fallen over Aim Village. Having heard the news that the battle was over, smugglers and merchants had arrived, unpacking their goods. Normally, they’d be rowdy, but everyone seemed unusually cautious. They must’ve heard who was staying in the village.
Of the over 200 mercenaries from the Jess Mercenary Group, only a few dozen had escaped alive. Earlier, some severely wounded mercenaries had been gasping for breath, but soon, they all bled out. The fact that there were no wounded meant I had been merciless—and in a village where someone like me was staying, no one dared to let loose.
*‘Heh. What a polite village. I like it.’*
Lying alone on the spacious bed in my lodgings, I couldn’t sleep, filled with anticipation. Earlier, while passing the village hall, I’d eavesdropped on the village representatives discussing how they’d select the prettiest maiden to send to my bed as thanks for protecting the village. The hospitality of rural folk was truly heartwarming. It wasn’t something I’d asked for, but I couldn’t bring myself to refuse their sincerity.
*‘Well, it’d be rude to reject their kindness outright.’*
I hugged the blanket and waited. Though I hadn’t slept in over a day, I wasn’t exhausted enough to pass out.
But it was taking a while. It seemed the village maidens were all volunteering, making the selection process difficult. Ah, my popularity just wouldn’t quit.
*Knock, knock, knock.*
A knock came at the door. Finally. I sat up and called out.
“It’s open.”
The door slowly creaked open, and a woman entered—none other than Shura. In the candlelight, she wore tight leggings and a woolen sweater.
Shura approached and knelt on one knee, bowing deeply.
“Master. It’s me.”
I glanced past her to see if anyone else was there. No one. It seemed Shura had come alone.
I scratched the bridge of my nose with my index finger.
“What brings you here in the middle of the night?”
Shura swallowed nervously.
“I have something to give you, Master.”
“What is it?”
She pulled out a pendant from around her neck—a design of two crossed arrows. She detached one and handed it to me.
“Here.”
Frowning, I took the arrow pendant. When I channeled mana into it, the arrow shifted slightly, pointing straight at Shura. It was a tracking spell.
Tracking spells were embedded in most divine artifacts below Tier 2, housed in the Hall of Divinity. Since most divine artifacts (excluding the seven Tier 1 relics and a few others) didn’t return to the Hall upon their owner’s death, this spell allowed their location to be tracked. That’s why priests and paladins usually retrieved lost artifacts using this spell.
But this magical item had another, unexpected use—lovers tracking each other’s whereabouts.
“What is this?”
“A keepsake from my mother. She told me to give it to the one I’d devote my life to.”
That sealed it. The woman the villagers had planned to send was Shura.
“I’ll slaughter every last one of these villagers!”
I grabbed the sword hanging on the wall and roared. Female elves pledged lifelong loyalty to the one they gave their purity to. In other words, this wasn’t just a one-night stand for Shura—it was a matter of her entire life. Even if she wasn’t from this village, I couldn’t forgive the villagers for making such an unreasonable demand.
As I stormed out in fury, Shura quickly stopped me.
“Master. I volunteered.”
I hesitated.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You saved my life. To repay you, I offer myself according to elven law.”
I wiped my face. Elves did have such customs.
But elves valued bloodline purity above all else. They absolutely forbade unions with other races that would taint their lineage.
That’s why half-bloods like Shura were ostracized.
Honestly, Shura was only exiled because she was born in the relatively liberal Kingdom of Caligo. Had she been born among the High Elves—zealous adherents to the Light—she’d have been killed at birth.
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