Inheriting the Novel

Chapter 87 : Sunwheel Ascendant Heaven Sword(日輪至天劍) (2)

Sunwheel Ascendant Heaven Sword(日輪至天劍) (2)

Only Mind.

It meant to control one's emotions and senses.

It was the ability to see, feel, and derive correct information to make judgments suited to the situation.

And also, the Five Aggregates.

To perfectly control the physical body and refine one's vessel as a human to perfection.

If one mastered both of these, it was undeniable that they had reached the limits of humanity.

Damian had clearly reached the realm of the Five Aggregates.

He had attained the highest realm called 'Great Swordmaster', becoming an invincible powerhouse who could not find a worthy opponent.

Yet—

None of it worked against his opponent before him.

"Huff, huff!"

Breathing rough and kneeling down, he barely had the strength even to stand as his body was pushed to its limit.

Damian rushed at Grancesia several more times.

He poured everything out, using the ultimate techniques and finishing moves of the Moon Severing Divine Sword, which he had trained for countless years.

"Disappointing."

Yet, all he received in return was Grancesia's cold gaze.

"Damian, is that all the Moon Severing Divine Sword you tried so hard to perfect amounts to?"

Grancesia spoke in a dry tone to a swordsman who had reached such a sublime state.

There was no emotion in her eyes.

She looked at him as if seeing a stone by the roadside, as if to say, "Is this really all there is?"

Damian could not answer.

It wasn't something to boast about, but until now, no one had ever said such to his face after seeing the Moon Severing Divine Sword.

Many praised it as a magnificent sword art, and some even called it the pinnacle of swordsmanship.

Every time, Damian thought to himself—

'This is not it.'

Grancesia was the first to point that out.

She was angry at that very moment.

Her ferocity was so chilling that it made his skin tingle, proving her fury.

'But even so, what can I do now.......'

He had already lived for hundreds of years.

Though his body had died, his mind remained vivid; he continued honing his sword through the long ages.

But at this point, he did not believe he could change.

Grancesia was as strong as he remembered.

She looked so far above that it was still difficult even to look up at her.

Why was that?

He was no longer the young Damian from the past.

"Sir Damian."

Someone spoke to him.

He didn't even need to look back to know—it was Clay.

"Grancesia said this: Damian, she said you are now suppressing yourself."

"......!"

"She said, even though you could go further, you keep circling in place, rationalizing it."

That was precisely why Grancesia was furious at Damian now.

Clay could see it.

To Grancesia, Damian was a very special person.

Someone from her past, the only man who ever wielded the sword to catch up to her.

If such a Damian stopped, spinning his wheels—and if she was the cause—naturally, she couldn't help but be angry.

"Sir Damian."

Clay called his name again.

"Why did you pick up the sword?"

Damian could not answer that question.

For a moment, no thoughts came to mind.

'Why did I grasp the sword?'

At first, he hated holding the sword.

What meaning was there in a sharp, heavy mass of steel?

Though everyone praised his talent for the sword, Damian felt no joy.

In the end, swordsmanship was only a technique to harm others.

Even if he had immense talent for such a thing, it didn't please him.

'When was it?'

When had that view changed?

Surely, it had been since he met a certain woman.

"...... Clay."

"Yes."

Damian slowly rose and gripped his sword tightly.

"I suppose I have taught you the wrong swordsmanship."

He had forgotten.

He had forgotten something so important.

The Moon Severing Divine Sword?

It was laughable. From the start, he had never really cared about the 'moon' at all.

His sword techniques were not created to cut the moon.

"I wanted to cut down the sun."

It was long ago.

One day, monsters attacked his peaceful village.

It was a common enough event.

Sometimes due to changing climates, other times for other reasons, monsters migrated in large numbers and overran nearby villages.

People screamed, tried to run, but it was too late.

No human could outrun the monsters closing in right behind them.

In that situation, Damian felt nothing at all.

He realized that when humans fall into despair, they simply give up everything.

It was the end. He truly thought so.

If, that day, a priest hadn't visited the village, perhaps it truly would have been the end.

"It all happened in an instant. All those monsters fell as if struck by calamity."

A woman appeared, walking calmly through the horde of monsters she had just annihilated.

All who saw her fell to their knees, as if by instinct, without anyone telling them to do so.

She was the sun.

So blindingly bright and hot that no one could even dare approach.

"Funnily enough, I reached out to her."

Even those who praised him as a genius tried to dissuade him.

They told him—she was no human. She was in a realm humans could never reach.

No one dared get close to her.

'I want to go.'

Yes, that was what he felt.

When he first gripped a sword, Damian felt that way.

'I want to be like her.'

He wanted to become the sun as well.

No, he wanted to be the swordsman who could even cut down that sun.

He first felt that way, back then.

"Yes, she was right. I was rationalizing, keeping myself in place all this time."

Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he could never reach her.

No battle satisfied him, and he could not even step onto a higher realm.

She was so lofty, so dazzling—eventually, he gave up even looking up at her.

The sun disappeared, and at some point, he found himself staring at the moon.

'Isn't this bright enough?'

He thought so.

He buried everything deep within his memories.

As hundreds of years passed by.

"I am not even as good as Lugal, who never gave up to the very end."

Damian looked straight at Grancesia.

She looked at him in silence.

"Clay."

"Yes."

Damian gave a faint smile toward Clay, who answered quietly.

Then, slowly, he removed his helmet, letting his long white hair spill out.

The heavy armor he wore shattered and crashed to the ground.

He didn't need armor while dreaming. It was all symbolic of his mind.

They were but disguises for the memories that blocked himself.

"I don't know if I can do it well......."

He flexed his hands, gauging the state of his body.

His body was unsullied, just as it had been in his prime.

"From now on."

Just as when he first took up a sword long ago, he gripped it with fierce strength.

"I will cut down the sun."

A pure white light streamed from Damian's sword.

It was the characteristic snowy-white sword aura of the Moon Severing Divine Sword, but unlike usual.

If before it was closer to frost, now it was fire.

White flames consumed his magic power, blazing from his sword and painting the world in pure white.

As all his worries faded, Damian felt his vision change.

Kwaaaang!

A thunderous roar sounded as Damian's figure shot towards Grancesia.

A circle of pure white sword force scorched the ground, speeding towards Grancesia.

"Good."

For the first time, a smile appeared at the corner of Grancesia's lips.

Raising her palm, she struck the ground; in an instant, the flames scattered and vanished.

Damian's sword came down vertically aiming for Grancesia's shoulder, but she spun her left hand and deflected it with the back of her hand.

The deflected sword spun halfway and targeted her neck.

Grancesia's right hand punched upward, striking the sword from below with her fist.

Taking advantage of the rebound, she spun and her right foot struck upward at Damian's chin.

As swords clashed, and punches and kicks flew, tremendous shockwaves swept through the white space.

'Is this.......'

Was this the world she saw?

It was different from the expanded senses he felt as a Swordmaster or even as a Great Swordmaster.

It was greater—like he could grasp everything in the world in his hands.

Chwarrrrk!!

Behind Damian, hundreds of white swords formed, then rained down on Grancesia.

The rain of sword force filled with the mysteries of sword manipulation reached the very front of Grancesia—then, a white heat shimmered around her body.

"Not yet, Damian."

As if reading Damian's thoughts, Grancesia spoke.

The blazing white heat gradually shed its color and turned blue.

"That's not all."

Her aura was completely different from just before.

'That's.......'

Only Mind? Five Aggregates?

As Damian thought of the realm of Heaven's Holy Ultimate Art, he finally realized what it was.

──No-Self.

The end of Heaven's Holy Ultimate Art.

The completion of humanity, surpassing it, becoming like a god.

It was an ultimate state Grancesia had never used while alive.

'Can I reach that?'

Damian shook his head.

Not because he could not.

Grancesia had said it—

Why do you suppress yourself? Why do you rationalize and stand still?

'Long ago, I had already.......'

He had already reached that far.

He just hadn't realized it.

'Cut.'

Forget everything else.

He let go of all thoughts accumulated over hundreds of years, and, just as when he first held a sword, he focused on only one thing.

He had looked at it for so long.

He always reached out toward that.

He wanted to cut down the sun.

He wanted to bring down the lofty, shining sun to the ground.

Because it shone so brightly and burned so hot, the sun could have nothing by its side; he wished to turn it into a mere human.

His sword responded to his will.

If he wished to cut, he could cut—even the sun.

KWA-AA-AAH!

Grancesia's fist and Damian's sword collided, and a blinding white blaze scorched the earth.

Then, silence fell.

"...... Lady Grancesia."

Damian's sword slowly crumbled to ashes.

Not only his sword—

His body too was slowly disintegrating.

As Damian fell apart, Grancesia spoke, watching him.

"Yes."

"Did I...... cut you?"

All was pure white in this space, and yet to Damian now, there was only darkness.

He had lost his sight.

Suppressing his surging emotion, Clay walked slowly to Damian, kneeling before Grancesia.

To a man who had burned everything and was turning to ashes.

"...... You did."

The hem of Grancesia's garment was just barely sliced. It was singed black and shredded to tatters.

She looked at it with eyes full of emotion.

"Splendid."

Damian's lips curled up faintly at her answer.

He could not see, but he knew. The only thing he had cut was a piece of her clothing.

In the end, he had not reached her body.

Yet, he felt no bitterness.

His life was ending, but his sword remained.

"Clay."

He quietly spoke to Clay, who was now by his side.

"...... Please."

He didn't specify what he was asking for.

Clay didn't ask either.

He already knew everything.

"......"

Grancesia watched Damian turn to ash with sad eyes.

Only then did Clay finally realize—

Why Damian wanted to cut the sun.

'Was it loneliness?'

The sun, so bright and unbearably hot—alone in its solitude.

Perhaps he wanted to stand by that sun, and soothe its loneliness, if only a little.

"...... Farewell."

There was unconcealed emptiness in Grancesia's uncharacteristically wistful voice.

It was the vacancy of someone orphaned, left alone in the world.

Moved by the sight, almost unconsciously, I took a step forward.

"Huh?"

Perhaps it was because of Damian's words.

Or perhaps it was because I saw her, so uncharacteristically pitiful.

When I came to my senses, I was hugging Grancesia from behind.

"Uh, uh......"

A flustered Grancesia tried to say something.

And then, the white world came to an end.