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Chapter 537

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EP.537 Afterword, Epilogue (2)

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Apuria Academy.

Known as the empire’s greatest academy, it was already vast years ago, but now it pales in comparison to its current scale. This surge in reputation was thanks to the countless war heroes that Apuria had produced.

The annihilation, Lac von Grace.

The Ashen Witch, Resti Elenoa.

The Shadow Dragon Sorcerer, Belnoa van Dragonik.

The Hero, Chloe.

The Empress, Ayla Clen Cartedia.

Even listing just the standout names brings the count to five, one of whom is the empress herself, the ruler of the empire. Beyond that, there were numerous other war heroes… and this isn’t limited to just graduates.

The Sage, Kelharlem Bel Artiya.

The Grand Magus, Cardi van Armiel.

The Cornerstone of the Empire, Rania van Trias.

A superhuman who achieved great feats in the subjugation of disasters. An ancient hero and a grand magus who fought for a thousand years. And here, the hero of humanity who ended a millennium-long war was teaching at Apuria.

It’s a situation where growth couldn’t help but happen.

Consequently, the expansion of Apuria became the top-priority national project alongside the expansion of the imperial capital. Supported by the royal family, Apuria repeatedly underwent expansions and established branch campuses… as a result, the main campus of Apuria now rivals the size of a decent-sized town.

So, in the center of this newly formed academic city…

“Now!”

Someone was shouting, veins popping in their neck.

“Bring Rania van Trias here immediately!”

The fact that someone raised their voice in the heart of Apuria shocked onlookers thrice: once for the audacity of shouting in public, a second time for referring to the cornerstone of the empire without an honorific, and finally, for the fact that they were holding a hostage.

“We are those who inherit the will of the great one, fulfilling their intentions… ”

“The mighty Skebal! Uphold the will of the prophet! Oh, great god of mages!”

It wasn’t too surprising that they were garbed in drab robes from an outdated era. Although it was somewhat shocking that they still believed in a long-past cult… but regardless.

“Kneel that damned witch before us. We demand the removal of the word ‘skull bucket’ that she inscribed in the imperial history books. This is an exceedingly violent and blasphemous act…”

No one was listening to them.

The knights merely surrounded them silently. After all, they wouldn’t be escaping Apuria, nor would their demands ever be met.

The knights were just waiting for a moment of weakness to safely rescue the hostage without inflicting any harm. There was no pressing need to subdue them violently, as there was no immediate threat to the hostage’s safety.

Just as they awaited that opening…

“Bring that witch over immediately—”

The loud protest from the dark mage was cut short. By a physical means.

BOOM!

The dark mage’s head was smashed into the ground. At the same time, the hostage he was holding vanished without a trace, only to be heard from the knights’ vicinity.

“Uh…?”

The hostage stood among the knights.

Even the hostage blinked in confusion, unable to comprehend what had just happened. It was a split second event that even the sharpest eyes couldn’t follow. Such feats were truly rare, even among the empire’s elite.

And in that moment, the one most mentioned first made her appearance.

“Did you call for me?”

A woman standing atop the dark mage’s crushed head. Her ash-blonde hair, tied into a single braid, danced in the wind.

“R-Rania van Trias…”

With the bewildered outcry of the dark mages, all eyes turned toward her.

The Cornerstone of the Empire.

Rania van Trias.

She cast a disdainful glance towards the remnants holding the hostage. A cult dedicated to Skebal, huh? Reflecting on the tale she’d heard on the way, Rania smiled.

“Quick, hurry!”

“Don’t come closer, witch! Kneel and witness the greatness of the great one from over there!”

As they attempted to drive a needle into the hostage’s neck, trying to cast dark magic, they thought they were acting swiftly… but to Rania, everything appeared agonizingly slow.

In this seemingly suspended moment, she walked slowly.

Ah, Skebal—truly the skull bucket serves a purpose even in death. Frustrated during battles, Rania always vented her stress through Skebal. With a friend’s wedding approaching, she was thankful for the appearance of this cult.

Finally, a chance to unleash her fists.

Holding her fist high to show the wrath of the divine to those who worshipped Skebal as the god of mages. A punch wielded by a demigod was something that truly deserved to be called divine wrath.

THWACK, BOOM!

The wrath of the divine descended upon the cultists.

It was somewhat self-indulgent divine wrath.

“Well, that happened.”

“In Apuria, a hostage situation? Sounds like they’ve got guts. So, what happened next?”

“What do you think happened? I turned them into mush and handed them over to the knights.”

“Didn’t kill them, I take it?”

“It’s in front of the students; I can’t just smash their heads open.”

“Ow.”

In Kirmelt Canyon, the leader of Galatrik.

The Sword Master, Kalt, chuckled while sipping tea. In the highest room of the shrine built in the canyon, he was entertaining a guest.

“So, what brings you here today, Rania van Trias?”

Rania poured tea for the esteemed senior who had given her a building.

“I came to wield a sword.”

Kalt flinched, stopping his cup mid-tilt.

“Have you gone mad?”

“I’m not saying anything I shouldn’t. You.”

“Didn’t someone warn you after the last incident where you wielded a sword and caused chaos?”

Recalling the incident from a few months ago drained the color from Kalt’s face. Rania had come to Kirmelt Canyon, watching Kyle’s demonstration for a time, then had said:

“Just give me a sword.”

“Watching you, I feel like I could do it. No, seriously!”

So Rania took up the sword.

And when Kyle demonstrated basic cuts of the Galatrik style, Rania mimicked a few…

“That time! The building! It’s still under repair, isn’t it?”

Kalt pointed outside, screaming.

After several attempts at mimicking Kyle’s precise cuts, Rania, in her frustration, had poured mana into the sword to create a cutting energy. Misunderstanding Kyle’s vague instructions about “just swing it and it’ll come out”—that disastrous combination of the worst teacher and the most disastrous sword talent had led to a catastrophe…

BOOM!

Mana shot out, turning part of the shrine into ash. Of course, they had compensated abundantly, but Kalt had to spend extensive time lecturing Rania not to pick up a sword again.

As months passed and Rania tried to wield a sword at Kalt once more, he held his forehead in despair.

“You shouldn’t pick up a sword.”

“Why not? I want to learn swordsmanship too.”

“Absolutely not. Really.”

“But you said I could do it last time!”

Not wanting to give up, Kalt hesitated in silence, having understood the catastrophic talent Kyle had as a teacher over the past few months.

“That… does make some sense.”

“Right?”

“So, is that why you’re asking me to teach you?”

“Yep.”

“Suddenly, why though?”

“I read somewhere that practicing swordsmanship is good for anger management. My master also said moving the body would do good.”

Anger? What for?

After a short thought, Kalt grimaced as he recalled the invitation that had come his way. The only thing that could possibly anger the revered senior known as the Cornerstone of the Empire would be something singular.

“Oh, it seems Belnoa and Chloe are getting married soon. That’s something to celebrate.”

Rania cast Kalt a sideways glance.

Unlike herself, who would grind her teeth at the mention of weddings, Kalt appeared unfazed. Come to think of it, he was the same age as she was back when she was ‘Raniel.’ He shouldn’t be too young?

“How old are you this year?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Don’t you get annoyed when weddings come up?”

“Me? Why would I?”

Kalt tilted his head in confusion.

“I’m still young, after all.”

“Thirty-six?”

“Well, my body doesn’t age. Thanks to the World Tree sap you sent whenever I was burning the midnight oil as your assistant, I’ve become half-elf.”

Kalt chuckled lightly.

“Apparently, I was guzzling that stuff during work, and when they did a thorough inspection, the alchemists said I’m half-elf. They were flabbergasted.”

How much of that expensive stuff did you drink?

Are you some kind of benefactor to the elves? That’s not a species that provides such things in abundance. Remembering what the alchemists had said, Kalt shrugged.

“If I don’t age, does age even matter?”

As Kalt said this, Rania subtly lowered her gaze. Unlike her, who claimed not to care about such things, Kalt seemed genuinely indifferent, which made Rania a bit envious of his aloofness.

“Training with swords seems to help with mental discipline. It really seems effective looking at him…”

In truth, no one around Rania cared about their age. Most were superhuman or had one or more means to halt aging. For them, age was really just a number.

Kyle, Sara, Remia, Resti, Chloe, Belnoa, Lac, Natida, Ayla…

Not to mention that Destel had supposedly halted aging by inheriting the blood of a giant dragon? Wasn’t he thirty-six or maybe seven? But I heard he was more interested in acting than anything else.

“O, no way…”

Rania sipped her tea, frowning.

Could it be that I’m the only one worrying about age?

In reality, maybe age has no meaningful impact at all? Yet, here I am at thirty-six… no, I mean thirty? But thirty seems rather young.

“Hm. This tea is delicious.”

Rania smiled.

Kalt looked at the suddenly cheerful Rania with a quizzical tilt of his head. Regardless, he began heading towards the training ground to teach Rania swordsmanship.

“Let’s not think of trying to unleash cutting energy right away, let’s first get the stance down.”

Kalt gripped the sword, settling into a stance.

The perfect foundational stance of the Galatrik style. Kalt raised his sword overhead and slashed downward. The posture was clean, and the movements were distinctly defined.

“You should hold the sword like this. Don’t grip too tightly, maintain a feeling of being secure…”

As the master of Kirmelt Canyon, Kalt excelled at teaching. He had restored the lost Galatrik style and refined a foundation that only one could master by ascending to superhuman levels.

He had linked the fragmented paths of swordsmanship together.

And so, those known as sword disciples praised him, stating he was worthy of being called the Sword Sage, and began to refer to him as the Grandmaster of Galatrik style. He possessed the qualities of a great leader at Kirmelt Canyon.

“So, that covers the basics.”

After introducing the foundational techniques one after the other, Kalt took a breath. A cutting energy materialized over the sword.

“Next, let’s get to the Galatrik style that you also know.”

First Technique: Initial Slash.

SWISH!

The moonlight’s cutting energy danced, carving a straight line.

With a CLANG, a clear mark was etched into the wall of the training area adjacent to the canyon. Pointing to the mark with the swordtip, Kalt grinned.

“For starters, let’s see you follow along. Since you have better physical abilities than I do, you might even pull off the Initial Slash.”

“Really?”

“Of course! Even if you can’t see the sword path or use cutting energy, who are you? You can crush steel barehanded…”

Kalt chuckled lightly and took a step back.

Rania copied Kalt’s demonstrated stances one by one. Having seen them just once, her stance was clean, and her footwork was flawless.

‘She was always good at using her body, but…’

I didn’t expect her to be this exceptional.

Kalt couldn’t help but click his tongue in admiration. After all, who stood before him? The very person who had decisively beaten Kyle, the Sword of Yeocheon, barehanded.

With overflowing combat experience and a transcendent physical ability from having touched the heavens, Rania was truly fitting to be called a demigod.

WHOOSH!

Every swing of her sword rang ominously through the air. Kalt smiled wryly at the sound of the wind being sliced.

‘At this rate, she might actually become a sword master.’

As he watched Rania wield her sword, she let it fall behind her back and took a deep breath. It was the stance for the Initial Slash that Kalt had shown.

That was when her form fell apart slightly rather than perfectly replicate Kalt’s stance. After she swung, Kalt figured he’d need to correct her posture. Just then, his eyes narrowed. His instincts sent him a warning.

An old alarm resounded.

Why now?

A cold sweat ran down Kalt’s spine. Something felt ominous, and he reached out a hand towards Rania.

“Senior, wait a moment…”

But it was too late. Much too late.

Mana began coalescing around Rania’s sword, and swinging her man-infused sword, she took a cut. It didn’t shoot out like before, but the magically enhanced sword strike resulted in unexpected results beyond Kalt’s predictions.

The body of a demigod. Overflowing mana. And an awkward stance merged to produce yet another disaster.

BOOM!

The wall burst. This is not a metaphor; it truly exploded. As pieces of the canyon’s wall crumbled down, Rania gasped in surprise.

“Is this how it’s done? It feels similar.”

“Absolutely not!”

Kalt’s eyes widened as he stared at the crumbling wall. Why did a sword swing leave behind traces as if it had been struck with a fist? That was less of a sword strike and more like smashing it with a hunk of metal…

“Senior.”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t swing the sword without thinking.”

“Why? I want to be a knight too.”

“When I say don’t, I mean DON’T!”

If she tried another imitation of the Initial Slash, the precious training ground would be dust. Kalt quickly snatched the sword away from Rania. However, that decision was a little late.

THUD!

The impact caused the wall of the training area to collapse.

As Kalt stared at the crumbling wall, he swallowed his tears.


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