Sword God in a World of Magic

Shang only looked at his bed for several seconds.

By now, Shang could feel tiredness envelop his mind. His eyelids were becoming heavy, and he felt his mind become distracted by random thoughts.

The bloodied face returned again.

But this time, Shang didn't push it away.

It felt too troublesome.

When was the last time he had slept?

Shang had no idea, but he guessed that it had been some time during his journey to Warrior's Paradise.

As someone from Earth, Shang was used to sleeping every single day.

Because of that, the last two or three weeks felt like one single long day to Shang.

During the morning, he had arrived in Warrior's Paradise.

During noon, he had trained in the techniques in the booklet.

During the afternoon, he had met his class, and he had gone hunting.

During the evening, Shang had nearly killed three kids.

And during the night, he had gone out to one more hunt.

And now, he was here.

It was one incredibly long day.

So many things had happened.

Shang had unlocked three new parts of his Affinity.

Shang had earned the money to upgrade his weapon.

Shang had killed his first General Stage beast.

Shang had learned a lot about Mages and the Caterpillar Class.

It was so much, and it had all happened over the span of two or three weeks.

Yet, during this moment, Shang felt like everything had happened today.

It felt weird.

Shang slowly pulled off his dirty uniform. He had received several sets of uniforms, but he had only worn two of them.

As Shang's mind slowly went towards the thought of sleeping, out of habit, he started walking over to the bucket.

Then, he held it above his head and tilted it.

Water quickly came out of the bucket, washing all over his body.

When was the last time Shang had showered?

Some time this week? Last week?

The silent and dark room seemingly reflected Shang's emotions.

It felt empty.

It felt like he had hit a low point in his life.

The bloodied face kept watching him.

Shang didn't bother with it.

If it wanted to watch, it could.

He just didn't care anymore.

It was unimportant.

It was pointless.

After Shang was done showering, he sat down on his bed.

He felt an indent in the spot he had just sat down in.

Shang knew that this indent had appeared when he had remained on that exact same spot for several days after the event.

Shang only looked towards the ground in the dark.

Silence.

He wasn't sure what he was thinking about.

He wasn't sure what he was feeling.

Why was he even here?

What was the point of becoming more powerful if such a minor incident as the run-in with the students caused him such turmoil?

Was he really so weak that he couldn't even get over something like this?

Silence.

After some minutes, Shang slowly slumped over until he lay on his bed for the first time.

It felt alien and strange to him.

As Shang silently lay on his bed, he felt like something was pressing down on him.

It felt very similar to the time he had run from that one General Stage spider.

It was like everything around him could kill him.

Shang knew that there was nothing inside his room, but he still felt like he wasn't safe.

He had remained in the wilderness for so long that it became impossible to completely relax.

In the wilderness, any kind of beast could suddenly assault him. Because of that, he had to remain vigilant.

But here, he was perfectly safe.

Yet, Shang didn't feel safe.

Shang's mind was taut with stress, and it became impossible to just let go.

As Shang continued lying on his bed, one scene after the other repeated.

He remembered how he had arrived.

He remembered his exam.

He remembered his run-in with Stars Gerbon.

He remembered the Caterpillar Class.

He remembered Astor.

He remembered Sarah.

He remembered his first hunt in the Wild Forest.

He remembered meeting the Storm Eagle young.

He remembered killing the General Stage Vanishing Snake.

He remembered how he had survived the sudden attack of another Vanishing Snake just due to sheer luck and his uniform.

He remembered his run-in with the other students.

His run-in with the other students…

The students…

As Shang's mind replayed that scene, he felt like he had fallen into a nightmare.

They were just kids.

Sure, they wanted to steal from him, but they were just kids.

Beating them up would have been enough.

He hadn't needed to go that far.

Shang could still come to terms with the first two students. After all, his interaction with them had ended very quickly.

But that third student.

The image of the bloodied face.

Where the face should be was only a pool of blood.

Chunks of severed flesh were seemingly swimming around inside it.

Bubbles kept popping up as it tried to breathe.

"I'm sorry."

"Help."

"Mommy."

These words echoed throughout Shang's mind.

The student had been in deep terror, and he had even shouted for his mother.

As the scene replayed in full, Shang felt a pit appear in his stomach.

He felt horrible.

He felt guilty.

However, the worst part was that Shang didn't want to feel these emotions.

In this world, cruelty was necessary.

Empathy and kindness were akin to weakness.

If he wanted to survive and become powerful in this world, he would need to kill off his empathy and kindness.

He had to get rid of it.

Yet, his feelings didn't lie.

Shang felt horrible for what he had done.

This was the worst part about all of it.

'I'm weak.'

Silence.

'I'm weak.'

'I will have to do many worse things in the future, but I can't even deal with this one.'

Silence.

'How am I supposed to live in this cruel world if such an event impacts me to such a degree?'

'I have to get used to these kinds of things.'

Silence.

'But I can't.'

'I can't get used to these things.'

'Whenever I think back, I feel horrible.'

At that moment, Shang felt something touch him.

Surprisingly, he didn't get startled, and he only looked over.

It was his sword.

Somehow, it had arrived in his bed.

As the sword touched Shang, he only felt one concept coming from it.

"Want close."

Shang had put it to the side earlier and, apparently, it didn't want to be put to the side.

'My sword, huh?'

The sword left small cuts on the bed as it slowly moved towards him.

Shang only looked at it for a while.

Then, he took hold of it and placed it beside him.

The sword stopped sending feelings.

It was like it was a dead sword again.

Shang looked at the Darkness, Light, and Ice ore inside his room.

Then, he looked at the sacks of gold.

For a moment, not everything was horrible.

Tomorrow, he could upgrade his sword.

At that point, his sword should also become smarter.

Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

But that feeling very quickly vanished as the dark, oppressive feeling returned.

The scene in the academy replayed again and again.

Shang felt himself hit the student's face again and again.

He felt horrible.

And he hated that he felt horrible.

He shouldn't feel horrible.

In his mind, he was weak.

He was weak for feeling empathy.