I Can See the Sword’s Memories

Chapter 15

The enemies hadn’t been easy to deal with. If Theo and Flora hadn’t been there, Saeorin might have been the one lying on the ground.

Saeorin calmed his excitement and looked toward Kanok.

“Deputy Commander… these people…”

“Oh, they’re not reincarnators,” Kanok replied casually. “Just ordinary folk who picked up techniques from the reincarnators.”

Ordinary people?

Saeorin frowned. Their movements had been a bit clumsy, but they were disciplined enough to pass for well-trained soldiers.

Kanok approached and inspected the trio. All three recruits were unscathed, thanks to their ability to cover each other’s vulnerabilities during the fight.

Even Flora, who Kanok had been worried might be rattled by her first kill, seemed unaffected. Tossing a bandage to Saeorin, Kanok hoisted one of the fallen villagers—a survivor—off the ground.

The man groaned weakly, the sole evidence of the trio’s inexperience. They had failed to finish him off completely.

“Ugh…”

“Answer my questions. If you cooperate, I might spare your life,” Kanok said.

“G-guh…”

While Kanok interrogated the survivor, Saeorin calmly wrapped the bandage around his hand, ensuring it was tight enough not to interfere with wielding his sword.

The pristine white bandage quickly turned crimson.

“Is your hand okay…?” Theo asked hesitantly.

Instead of answering, Saeorin gripped his sword and gave it a few experimental swings. The sharp sting in his palm was noticeable but manageable.

He was no stranger to such injuries; training in swordsmanship had already left his hands torn more than once.

“Saeorin, if you keep moving with your hand like that, it’s going to scar,” Flora warned.

Saeorin nodded. She was probably right—repeated wounds like this would eventually leave his palms scarred.

But that didn’t bother him. In the White Frost Tribe, scars and calluses on the palms were badges of honor, a testament to one’s dedication to the tribe.

“It’s fine. It’s not a problem.”

“Hmm…”

As the three spoke, Kanok returned. The man he’d been interrogating now lay lifeless on the ground, his body sprawled in the dirt.

The interrogation was over.

“Can you all keep moving? The reincarnator is up there,” Kanok said, pointing to the mountain.

None of the recruits suggested taking a break. Though the battle had been intense, they showed no outward signs of fatigue.

Kanok gave a faint smile.

“As we go higher, expect ambushes. The enemy doesn’t care about fairness and will use any means necessary to win. Be especially cautious of arrows from a distance and traps hidden along the trail.”

“Can we trust that information?” Theo asked.

Kanok stretched his shoulders and replied, “Did I ever mention my blessing?”

“Your blessing, sir…?” Theo looked puzzled.

“I’ve been gifted with the ‘Lever of the Scales.’”

“Lever of the Scales?”

Saeorin and Flora turned their attention to Kanok, intrigued. They hadn’t heard of his blessing before.

“It’s the ability to discern truth from lies,” Kanok explained.

“Oh…”

“That’s… kind of terrifying.”

“It’s also pretty exhausting. I can’t turn it off,” Kanok said with a wry smile.

Kanok chuckled as he finished speaking. Saeorin glanced up at him, noticing a faint trace of bitterness in his smile.

Upon reaching the mountainside, Kanok’s demeanor changed in an instant. The relaxed air he had carried vanished, replaced by a sharp, predatory intensity.

The smile that had adorned his face was gone, and his narrowed eyes focused intently ahead.

“I’ll clear the path. Follow me carefully,” he instructed.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a sharp whistling sound pierced the air. The sound was close. Saeorin turned just in time to see Kanok’s sword slash through an incoming arrow.

Clang!

“Arrows…!” Theo exclaimed.

The instant the deflected arrow hit the ground, the ambush began in earnest.

Kanok moved like a ghost, silent and deadly. His blade sliced through his enemies with surgical precision, reaping lives as effortlessly as a scythe cutting through grain.

His footsteps were light, and even while ascending the uneven mountain terrain, his speed never faltered. It was as if he were running on flat ground.

Saeorin narrowed his eyes, watching Kanok’s movements intently. Though he could barely follow the faint afterimages left behind, he began to discern the method behind Kanok’s speed.

‘He’s stepping on mana… no, releasing it outward.’

This wasn’t merely a physical enhancement. Kanok was exFeling mana from his body to propel himself, a versatile technique with boundless potential applications.

“Gaaah!”

“We can’t fight him! Call for the boss!”

“S-spare me! I didn’t want to be a bandit! I hate this!”

Kanok showed no mercy, even to those who surrendered and discarded their weapons. With his blessing, which allowed him to discern truth from lies, hesitation was unnecessary.

By the time Kanok had culled nearly half of the hidden enemies, the large wooden gate of the mountain fortress burst open. A young boy and a hulking man stepped out.

“Stop!”

The shout was deafening, carrying immense power. It resembled the roar of a great beast, and Saeorin, Theo, and Flora winced, clutching their ears as pain shot through their heads.

“Argh…”

“What is this voice…?”

“It feels like my ears are going to tear…”

The voice wasn’t merely loud; it carried an eerie, oppressive force that resonated in the air.

“They finally show themselves…” Kanok muttered, dragging another bandit from the shadows.

However, neither the boy nor the hulking man paid any attention to Kanok. Instead, their gazes were locked in a single direction—where Saeorin, Theo, and Flora stood.

Step, step.

The boy and the man began advancing toward them.

Before they could approach further, Kanok appeared in a gust of wind, blocking their path.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Kanok asked, his tone calm yet challenging.

The boy—Akmin—scowled at him. He had woken in this new world with a new body, grasping the opportunity to build his power. 

Establishing his gang and fortress had been the culmination of those efforts. Everything had been perfect.

Except for one thing: Azure Wings.

The organization that hunted reincarnators like him had cast a shadow over his rise to power.

“Pesky little insects…”

Akmin had known this moment would come. Ever since he realized that this world viewed reincarnators as a threat, he had prepared for this confrontation.

The traps and ambushes he had set weren’t in vain. They had allowed him to observe his enemy’s fighting style and gauge their strength.

Now, he stepped forward, confident he could win.

And there was more.

Whoosh—!

Akmin swung his massive greatsword, far larger than himself, with ease.

“Chief Bu, I’ll handle this one. Go capture the ones up ahead. Kill the boy if you like, but treat the white-haired girl carefully. She’s destined to be your brother’s wife.”

To Akmin, it was fate. The moment he first laid eyes on her, his heart pounded wildly. That white-haired girl, cold and serene like snow blanketing the mountain—he had to have her.

‘She’s mine.’

He was certain. All of this, every situation leading up to this moment, was orchestrated by destiny to bring them together.

His voice rang out, audible to everyone present. Saeorin, Theo, and Flora’s expressions twisted with disgust.

“This son of a…!” Theo’s face flushed red, not from embarrassment, but from sheer rage. His blood boiled, driven by indignation.

Flora, too, was furious. She raised her sword, ready to cut down the man who had insulted her friend.

In contrast, Saeorin, the target of the mockery, remained calm. He was accustomed to such reactions and had come to expect them.

It was understandable. His body, his sister’s body, was stunningly beautiful. He couldn’t blame the men for being so fixated.

Saeorin touched his face with a melancholic expression.

“This beauty… it’s overwhelming.”

“W-what kind of nonsense is that…?” Theo stammered.

“The confidence! I like it even more. Come to me!” Akmin shouted, cutting Theo off.

Instead of replying, Saeorin raised his sword and pointed it at Akmin.

“Hahahaha!” Kanok burst into laughter. There was no falsehood in Saeorin’s words—he genuinely found his beauty burdensome.

It had been a long time since Kanok had laughed so heartily. With a light swing of his sword, he spoke again.

Slash!

The sharp sound of Kanok’s strike cut through the air. The man known as Chief Bu, who had been advancing toward Saeorin’s group, collapsed instantly.

“Huh…?” Theo muttered in shock.

“I was planning to let this play out a little longer, but it seems I need to step in now,” Kanok said, stepping forward.

“What are you doing—?” Akmin began, but before he could finish his sentence, Kanok moved.

Schk!

A clean, silent slash tore through the space where Akmin stood. The attack was so swift and precise that he didn’t even have a chance to react. Akmin’s body and head were severed in an instant.

“Th-this…” Akmin tried to speak, but no sound emerged. His severed head could only gape silently as blood spurted from his neck.

Kanok walked calmly to Akmin’s decapitated head, pulling a large cloth from his cloak. It was a specially made fabric designed to contain severed heads without letting any blood seep through. He wrapped Akmin’s head neatly.

“Is everyone uninjured?” Kanok asked, turning to the recruits.

They all nodded. Thanks to Kanok’s decisive actions, the situation had been resolved before they even had a chance to get hurt.

“Then, shall we head back?”

“Yes, sir…” Theo and Flora responded in unison.

Kanok glanced at Saeorin, waiting for his answer. After a brief hesitation, Saeorin darted forward and picked up Akmin’s fallen greatsword.

“If you’re just going to leave this behind, I’ll take it,” Saeorin said.

“That sword…?” Kanok raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“It’s a bit unwieldy for you…”

“I have a hobby of collecting swords,” Saeorin explained.

Kanok nodded, sensing no deceit in the statement. There was no harm in letting Saeorin take it.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to carry it for you.”

“Understood!” Saeorin replied enthusiastically.