Chapter 79: Forged in Battle (1/2)

‘What kind of existence were the swordbearers?’

They were like moths to a flame.

As one could see from this city, they always lingered near battles—duels, wars, and the like.

Wherever a great fight broke out, there were always swordbearers present.

‘So why did they chase after battles? Perhaps it had something to do with their lifespan.’

The moment a swordbearer forged their sword, the possibility of becoming a mage vanished.

That sword devoured everything of its owner.

On the other hand, mages nurtured trees.

Trees that filled their bodies, enriched their souls, and made everything more abundant.

Thus, compared to mages, swordbearers lived incredibly short lives—perhaps a third, no, a quarter of their lifespan.

To overcome this limitation, they had to refine their skills.

That was why they pursued combat.

Because such a life was so fleeting, those with talent mostly chose to become mages.

Yet, the world was still overflowing with swordbearers.

The reason was simple: raising a sword was far easier and more convenient than raising a tree.

As long as one possessed even the slightest magical talent, they could forge a sword.

It was just a matter of preparing the materials and condensing magic into them.

Unlike mages, who had to endure excruciating pain to develop their craft, swordbearers had a much simpler path.

In fact, even those with no magical talent at all could become swordbearers.

In theory, if multiple mages forcibly imbued a blade with enough magic, even someone without talent could wield it.

There were even rumors that noble families and the imperial household maintained armed groups composed of such artificially created swordbearers.

It was likely true—’how else could they fully protect their domains?’

Yes, the path of the sword was the choice for those who could not become mages.

That was how mages viewed them.

That was why I, too, called them swordbearers with a hint of disdain.

But their strength was undeniable.

The swords they forged could cut through a mage’s magic, their bodies, and even the trees they nurtured.

Their weapons were also highly effective at slaying monsters.

Swordbearers were, by their very nature, beings specialized for slaughter.

It was an easy and convenient path.

That was why most people at the bottom of society became swordbearers, and why they were so numerous.

Amidst the discrimination from mages, they forged a strong bond among themselves.

They called themselves swordsmen, distinguishing themselves from mages, and formed their own communities.

Even among them, those with exceptional talent would emerge.

The ones who entered the academy were such individuals.

As one could see from this city, they stuck together closely.

That was their nature—sticking together and fighting.

Because of that, mages despised them.

Some even regarded them as mere monsters—intelligent, articulate, and dangerous beasts.

Given that one could be impaled by their swords at any moment, such views were, in a way, understandable.

‘Did swordbearers band together because mages despised them, or did mages despise them because they banded together?’ It was impossible to tell which came first.

Perhaps it was both.

Regardless, swordbearers fundamentally liked one another.

When someone exceptional emerged, they did not envy them—they celebrated them.

Rather than pulling them down, they protected and cherished them.

One could see this camaraderie in the public duels.

The respect they had for Cassian was evident.

These people were the complete opposite of mages.

***

The fifth duel had ended, and four weeks had passed since the public duels in the city had begun.

All of Cassian’s victories had been used to extend the time we were allowed outside.

Now, we spent nearly half the day outside the city.

During that time, Cassian had become quite famous.

The reasons were many—selling duels, her outstanding skill, and of course, her striking appearance.

But the biggest reason was undoubtedly the association’s dueling program.

Even though the duels were held in private, I had been constantly using her sponsorship as a promotional tool.

Anyone familiar with the association’s traditions would have realized her situation.

They could likely estimate how many opponents she had already defeated.

Thus, rumors spread like wildfire.

People intrigued by them sought out Cassian, and as they dueled her, they were left in admiration.

Among them, some were willing to buy the evaluation sheets I had prepared.

Though a few turned me down, many wanted to receive an evaluation.

This allowed me to collect a wealth of physical data.

Mira and I analyzed it all, extracting only the most valuable insights for Cassian’s benefit.

By now, my shadow tree was nearly overflowing with information.

A trend had taken root—magic-restricted duels were becoming a widespread phenomenon.

Others had even begun selling duels, following our example.

I idly toyed with a doll, thinking of Cassian.

Her body was reaching its limits.

To contain further changes, she would have to reach the next stage.

Mira had told me as much.

When I looked at the latest evaluation sheet, I had come to the same conclusion.

In her fifth duel, Cassian had received a score of 95.

That meant her physical limits were now within sight.

The end of her natural potential was approaching.

The very thought was terrifying.

Dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of transformations were contained within her body, alive and shifting.

Reaching her limit also meant we no longer had to rush her adjustments.

That didn’t mean we would stop dueling or gathering information—we still had to refine her to perfection.

But at least, we could take things a little slower.

Like how I was now idly fiddling with a doll while Cassian and Mira strolled around the city.

I examined the doll’s circuits.

It had an extremely complex structure, designed solely to capture the essence of Cassian’s form.

I carefully infused it with magic.

As the magical heart absorbed the energy and began to beat, the doll twitched.

After hesitating for a moment, it carefully took a step forward. Then another.

A crack formed along its body.

As it took another step, the crack widened.

I remained calm, observing its structure with magic.

With each step, its circuits slowly crumbled.

The spell shattered, and its body fractured.

It was overloaded.

By the fifth step, the magical heart could no longer endure the pressure and burst apart.

The doll instantly collapsed into wooden fragments.

It was the tenth failure of the day.

I had only attempted to store a fraction of her data, yet the doll had been unable to withstand even that.

I recorded the results on paper.

Still, it had managed to take five steps this time.

That alone was progress.

I crossed my arms and stared at the paper.

Reducing the amount of data stored any further was meaningless—it would lose coherence.

The path forward was clear: I needed better materials.

I wanted to continue experimenting, but it seemed best to stop for the day.

I glanced toward the door.

Beyond it, a familiar presence was steadily approaching.

***

A moment later, the door swung open as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

A cold-faced young man strode inside with unwavering steps.

Aldric. His gaze swept the room before he gave me a slight nod.

“I’m the only one here right now. The others have all gone into the city.”

I inclined my head in response.

I had no idea why he had come.

Even the watchers had left to follow Mira and Cassian.

They must have already reported everything to him.

At my words, he shook his head slightly.

“I came to see you, Evron. I thought it was time we had a private conversation, and I heard you were alone.”

‘I had no idea what he wanted to discuss.’

Still, I summoned a doll to prepare a table and chairs, while another doll served tea and placed it before him.

No matter what the conversation entailed, it was best to be courteous.

This man was destined to become a key figure in the association.

There was no need to make an enemy of him.

When I had first heard his name, I had felt a strange familiarity.

It had taken me some time to recall where I had seen it before—on a document I had read while researching duels.

Aldric was one of the eight who had won their duels.

Sixty years ago, while residing on the third floor, he had passed through the dueling trials.

The document contained no further records of his activities.

I had assumed he had left the city.

I never imagined he had remained in the association.

That explained why he was overseeing Cassian.

He likely understood her mindset better than anyone.

“Please, have a seat. Since you have something to say, I will listen attentively.”