Sword Pilgrim

The viscount couldn’t believe it.

It’d been a single blow.

With one blow, a hundred heads had been cut off.

The bodies of the knights had exploded into chunks of flesh.

Those brave soldiers –

Those dozens of knights he’d nurtured for long with such difficulty –

They’d all died under one blow.

‘How could this happen…’

The cause was a mere pilgrim!

He’d thought the man was someone of no note, but that was obviously wrong.

Besides, he used a sword!

A sword pilgrim.

The fact that somebody like that was active inside the empire meant he was confident in his own strength.

‘How could he do something like this, with that meagre amount of divine power…’

Was he hiding his strength?

A pilgrim who was capable of a feat like this –

No.

There was a strong possibility that this was a Master, pretending to be a pilgrim.

‘Think, Geralt, think! If you don’t want to die right now…’

Should he run away?

Or should he try to talk things out?

If the opponent really was a Master, he’d definitely die the moment he tried to run away, so the viscount dismissed that thought.

There was no point in trying to talk things out either.

The opponent had already raised his sword.

He’d dared raise his sword within the empire, and reveal his own identity.

He wouldn’t respond to talking.

Then there was only one way left.

Creak.

Geralt’s grip upon his spear tightened, making it groan.

Even if he had to perish right here, wouldn’t it be a great honour to trade blows with a Master in his final moments?

“Come on, then!”

Creeeeakkkk.

That sword –

His aim lay near it.

‘I’ll take that arm.’

Give up your flesh to break the enemy’s bone.

Thooommm!!

His spear that’d been bestowed by the empire –

There was nothing lacking about it!

The tip of Geralt’s spear glowed red.

Light wrapped around his arms, and his muscles swelled into a grotesque shape.

Spear held at his side, he threw himself forward, aiming at a single point –

As Callius’ sword prepared to pounce, Geralt only had time for a single thought.

He hadn’t been able to see the sword at all during the first blow.

This time shouldn’t be much different either. So he had to throw his spear, now.

“Ahhhh!!”

The bulging muscles, large enough to match an average human body, yielded all their power into a single motion.

Paang!

The wind gave way.

A single spear broke through the air.

With this, he’d be able to hold on for a while –

While he was so sure –

Snikt.

That cold sound made Geralt blink once.

His eyes turned to the earth.

His spear’s shaft had been cut exactly at the midpoint, and the sight made him reflexively gape.

“Ah?”

Slide. Thud.

“Uh… How…”

Geralt’s body collapsed, sliced cleanly in two.

In his left hand, there was a small javelin still clutched tight, but now it had no meaning.

Crackkkkkkk.

As Geralt’s body crumbled like dust, it was the end of the imperials.

“Haah…”

Callius let out a long breath, and again sheathed his sword.

Crack.

Boom!

Craaaaashhh!

The burning brothel finally collapsed.

With the mass of flames and rubble behind him, Callius stared at Chris.

The silence between the two stretched.

Just as Chris was about to say something –

Whiiiiish.

A sword flew through the air and landed at his feet.

It was a well-balanced sword –

But just one of the common ones Callius had in his possession.

Almost in a daze, Chris reached down and grabbed it by the hilt.

‘It’s heavy.’

But despite the heavy weight felt by his hands, Chris’ heart was beating so fast that he wanted to immediately give it a swing.

But since he’d just been showed that fantastical swordsmanship –

So would anyone in his position.

The spear and the mace had long since vanished from Chris’ thoughts.

“Ah, Uncle! N-name? What’s your name!!”

As the pilgrim who’d already turned around was about to disappear, he slowly glanced back and gave him a brief reply.

“Find out.”

Then he quickly disappeared into the darkness.

A pilgrim in pure white, bearing a sword.

For a long while, Chris was left staring after him, choking back his tears.

“A pilgrim of the sword…”

As if to etch that into his mind, Chris clutched tight the sword that didn’t suit his underdeveloped body, and looked at the burning remains of the brothel in front of him, then at the road along which the pilgrim had vanished, and finally, up at the dark sky.

High above, the stars yet burned as if nothing of note had happened, twinkling.

Rattle, rattle.

“Hey! Slow down!”

“B-, bandits are chasing us, how can I slow down!”

“Ah, I keep telling you they won’t be any trouble.”

Thunk, thunk-thunk! Ting.

Arrows kept hitting the wagon’s side.

Philomatour’s face wrinkled with nervousness.

“Serena! Can’t you deal with them?”

“Master Callis is working on it.”

“No, just how long…”

An open carriage with no roof.

Callius was riding on it, his eyes closed and his hand at the scabbard on his lap.

Despite the rattling of the wagon, he sat perfectly balanced.

“He’d practicing some kind of swordsmanship. He’s been doing it quite frequently of late.”

“That hundred something?”

“Hundred Flowers Harvest. It’s the sword art of Master Callis, so don’t besmirch its noble name with your shabby mouth.”

“Really, what…”

That was then.

Callius’ eyes opened.

And his sword swung.

Slash!

A half-moon sword arc few and cleaved the bandits apart.

“Oho.”

“Ohh! Cool!”

“Awesome.”

The complaints were washed away.

Praises poured in instead. But he who received them, Callius, didn’t seem satisfied at all.

“Why are you doing this?”

“It’s harder to use while riding a wagon.”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“That’s not it.”

It was a sword skill.

Its wielder had to know how to use it fully anytime, anywhere.

Therefore, Callius was training to be able to use it from any position and in any situation.

In the beginning, he’d had to focus on the quickdraw part for a long time before he could use the technique.

Of course, that was just because Callius’ proficiency was low.

Hundred Flowers Harvest wasn’t originally supposed to work that way.

So, ever since he’d left the kingdom, whenever he’d had a chance, he had been practicing the technique, and although he’d achieved a certain level by now, it was still far from perfect.

“By the way, will that kid be alright? His mother wanted him take care of, didn’t she?”

It was Aldo speaking.

He asked, while tinkering with his hammer.

Callius re-sheathed the Predator Sword as he responded.

“I did what I could.”

The world didn’t lack people with their own circumstances.

Trying to carry them all along wouldn’t help Callius achieve his objective.

In the first place, he was a fugitive on the run.

Taking a child along who couldn’t fend for himself would only be a burden.

So Callius had given the boy a sword.

A sword that might’ve been a common thing for him, but definitely not for Chris.

If Chris had a sword; if he was really determined to go down that arduous road –

Giving a sword like that away was worth it.

If a single sword could nourish a boy’s dream –

The sword would repay its value.

“Did you really need to do that? Didn’t Veronica say she’d give you her wealth…”

“I’ve already received my reward.”

When Phillip’s sword had turned into light –

Callius had been aptly compensated.

[Faith +2]

Thanks to that, Callius’ [Faith] now stood at –

「Callius von Jervain」

「Title」 – Hero of National Salvation

「Occupation」 – Pilgrim

「Spirit」 – Level 3

「Divine Power」 – 15703/16934

「Talent」 – 【Bard’s Blessing】 【Instinctive Intuition】

「Characteristics」 – [Verse of Grace] [Nobility’s Duty] [Death Verse Composition] [Prodigal Son of the Order] [Gluttony] [Tricolour Eye] [Bewitching Scent]

「Constitution」 – 『Smelting Bones』

「Ability」

Strength – 102 (30)

Agility – 86 (30)

Skill – 19

Health – 89 (30)

Faith – 95 ▶ 97

– Ninety-seven.

‘I’ll have to prepare soon.’

He had to prepare to raise the quality of his spiritual power.

The moment [Faith] reached a hundred –

He’d break through the limit of level 3.

Normally, he’d have to purchase sacred stones in bulk and find a suitable training room, but there was no need to panic.

“Oh, I can see it!”

His destination was the Saharan Holy Land.

“Can we just cross the border like this?”

“No.”

Across the border –

The Saharan Holy Land could be seen over the mountain ridge.

Its mark was a tower that rose high in the sky, leaning precariously to one side as if it could fall any moment, yet stood proudly.

“What a great place that is.”

“Have you been there before, old man?”

“I remember when I went there with my father, when I was young. It’s a bit hazy now, but the Holy Land was such an incredible place that I’ve still kept the memories.”

Aldo’s lips curved up as he looked at Philo and his companions.

“Do you know the story of Sahara? Why was a sanctuary created at the centre of the Sahara Desert?”

“Don’t show off, talk!”

“Callis, do you know?”

Callius nodded.

“It’s ironic, that it was men with the power of the Gods who ended the Dragon Demon War.”

“Hah! You really do know. That’s right. Sahara wasn’t always a desert.”

The Sahara Desert was exceptionally red.

Hence its other name, the Red Desert.

However, the story went that it hadn’t been a desert from the start.

The war between the dragons and the fallen had shattered and devastated the land, and the sea of blood split over it had left it barren and stained red.

That war had been so fierce and the aftermath so great, that countless men had gotten tangled in it and died meaningless deaths.

And that was when they’d appeared.

“They were followers of the various Gods that make up the continent today.”

Sword, spear, mace, bow, hammer, et cetera.

It was said that armed warriors who followed various Gods had appeared and put and end to the Dragon Demon War.

After that, a tower had been built to commemorate it.

And from then on, in the Sahara –

You couldn’t kill people recklessly.

It’d become a true sanctuary.

“They say that if you kill someone in the Sahara, a dragon or a demon will appear. They’re sensitive to the vows they’d made.”

“Ah…”

Serena looked at Callius.

She seemed to be making another strange mistake. But Callius didn’t care.

The Saharan Holy Land –

Callius held quite a few expectations for it.

There were multiple reasons, but there was one especially important objective.

‘The King of Steel.’

First, he had to get the King of Steel.

To prepare for war against the empire, there was no other sword that could help as much.

And the second objective was Stella.

‘There are traces of Stella in the Holy Land.’

As Aldo said, among the heroes who’d ended the Dragon Demon War, Stella was one.

Traces of Stella in the Holy Land –

Meaning, traces of her swordsmanship, still remained.

Callius has learned Stella’s lost sword art, but it wasn’t perfect.

How much progress could he realistically make based on a sword manual with a few scribbled letters and a few diagrams?

That he’d been able to assimilate and understand it to this level was already an achievement.

‘In the first place, Stella’s swordsmanship…’

– Wasn’t made to deal with humans. What Callius had learned was a tweaked version Stella had made before her disappearance, with modifications to make it useful for fighting other people.

Originally, the Silver Flower Wave Sword was not made to kill humans.

It’d been made to fight dragons and demons.

‘It’s still strong enough, though.’

But the original Silver Flower Wave Sword had been in a whole other league. It was the strongest sword art on the continent.

That was the moniker the Silver Flower Wave Sword deserved.

Stella had been famous as a saint, but before that, she’d been called the Dragonslayer.

Her sword, was a sword that killed dragons.

‘Because of the Light Dragon Sword, I’ve incurred the dragons’ wrath.’

Learning Stella’s true swordsmanship was now quite important.

And the third objective for heading to the Holy Land –

That was…

“As expected, it’s going to be troublesome.”

Philo’s voice awakened Calius from his thoughts.

Far away –

There were people gathered at the border.

Imperial soldiers in red armour.

Two people stood at their forefront.

Twin princesses, one from the empire and the other from the principality.

The two were guarding the border.

In total, the number of border guards had quadrupled.

Since killing was impossible in the Sahara, the imperials were determined to not let them step foot there.

While everyone in the party were frowning at the sudden complication –

Callius’ expression remained unchanged.

He merely –

Fiddled with a ring he wore on his finger.

The [Ring of Leteti].