I Pulled Out the Excalibur

Who would dare to call a transcendent Sword Master an anomaly? Yet, that was the only way to describe Karan.

One day he would suddenly vanish into the Demon Realm, returning with the heads of high-level demons. Another day, he would cross the boundary near Camlann, slaughtering the cursed beings that ventured over. And sometimes, he would be seen wielding his sword on the battlefield of the stars.

But that’s not all.

Fancying a good drink, he would stride into the sanctuaries of the constellations in the night sky to stir up a commotion or effortlessly scale the city walls to share a drink with the emperor, eyes of the guards wide with shock.

An unpredictable character, indulging in eccentricities.

Karan isn’t perceived as dangerously unpredictable by the world despite being such an oddity among oddities. His values are crystal clear.

Sword, Righteousness, and Chivalry.

Just as the Knights of Atanga bind themselves with honor and pride, the Sword Saint binds himself with righteousness and chivalry. He immerses himself in what he believes is right, indifferent to power or fame.

Obsessed only with the sword.
Indifferent to politics and power.
His motives are inscrutable.

Yet, Karan has a purpose.

He always says:

He must ascend to the extreme. He must acquire more stars, become stronger. It’s not just about challenging his own limits.

Why this thirst for strength?

To that question, Karan once answered:

“To fulfill the hidden mission of the Order of the Sword.”

The world knows not what this mission is.
Only Karan and the previous heads of the Order know the true nature of this mission. It’s more a duty, a destiny, than a hidden mission.

Karan ponders over this mission.

To achieve it, he needs a monster, one even more extraordinary than himself, deemed a genius. Ordinary means won’t suffice to approach the Order’s mission. Thus, Karan is on a quest.

Seeking an existence that might surpass him.
One that could show him ‘the next step’.

‘So, what about you?’

The Sword Saint gazed at the young man before him.

It was time to scrutinize.

How much talent did this young man possess? Could he be the existence Karan had been seeking? And if so, how should his value be judged?

The answer was absurdly simple.

‘With the sword.’

If there’s something to be confirmed, confirm it with the sword.

That was the way of the Order of the Sword.

Najin gazed at Karan.

Holding the scabbard, Karan remained motionless, as if inviting an attack. It wasn’t arrogance but the ease of a true strongman, an undeniable fact Najin couldn’t refute.

Because it was the truth.

Even if Najin exerted his full power and drew Excalibur, victory seemed unlikely. The gap between him and Karan was too vast, not even the holy sword could bridge it.

The epitome of swordsmanship.
A force to be reckoned with, equal to the constellations in the night sky.

‘He possesses six stars, right?’
-Yes. He could ascend to a constellation at any time, but he chooses to remain on earth.

A being who could join the stars, yet chooses to remain in the world of men. Najin took a deep breath and relaxed his sword arm. It was a rare opportunity to experience the pinnacle. Despite being thrown into the situation, he understood the invaluable nature of this chance.

Knowing this, he had no intention of holding back.

“Hoo…”

One deep breath.
The currents within Najin surged. No longer needing to hide his ability to use sword aura, he let it envelop his sword in pure white.

“……”

Volkman, observing their duel, widened his eyes in surprise. It was unbelievable for someone to awaken sword aura in just a month. The correct assumption would have been that Najin could already handle it when they first crossed swords.

‘He was concealing his strength.’

Volkman smiled. He wasn’t disappointed. On the contrary, he was curious to see how far Najin could push Karan.

And Karan…

He still hadn’t drawn his sword aura. He simply held the scabbard, watching Najin. Thump. Najin lunged at Karan with a speed surpassing a Sword Expert.

Swoosh!

In an instant, Najin’s sword swung. A swift strike. The posture, the trajectory of the sword, were flawless even in Volkman’s eyes.

But not for Karan.

With a casual flick of the scabbard, he deflected Najin’s attack. The scabbard’s speed wasn’t fast or slow, it was just right to meet Najin’s shoulder. Karan then thrust it forward.

That alone shattered Najin’s stance.

His sword’s path skewed, balance broken, and Najin stumbled backward. Barely avoiding a fall, his eyes were shaken.

Tap.

Quickly regaining his stance, Najin charged at Karan again. But once, twice, five times… the same scenario played out.

Karan lightly flicked the scabbard.
And with that, Najin’s stance crumbled.

It wasn’t a proper strike or a swift one. Karan’s speed seemed similar or even slower than Najin’s. Yet, he effortlessly disrupted his stance.

How exactly?

Najin knew. Vulnerabilities in the stance. Unstable points. Imperceptible flaws invisible to ordinary eyes were precisely targeted by Karan.

‘Then…’

Najin exhaled shortly and regripped his sword.

“It’s begun.”

Volkman, watching, clicked his tongue.
Duels with Karan usually go like this. Moving at equal or slower speeds, Karan limits his sword, yet it’s futile…

Karan thoroughly dominates.

Picking vulnerabilities, shattering sword paths, reading and breaking stances, parrying every attack from his position. Being overpowered by someone swinging slower is hardly pleasant.

‘The feeling of having your sword negated.’

Feeling invalidated.

That’s why many hesitate to duel with Karan. Though there’s much to gain, the time it takes to rebuild a shattered ego is immense.

What about this young man?
He’s aware of his own talents.

The impact must be substantial. Volkman contemplated this as he observed Najin charge at Karan with the same posture as before. Was he unable to accept his own flaws? As Volkman sighed at this thought…

The moment Karan thrust his scabbard.
Najin’s movements changed.

The flaw had already been exploited once. The moment it was targeted, Najin had mentally sorted how to patch it, how to adjust his stance. For Najin, reconfiguring his actions was not a difficult task.

Karan’s intended target was now blocked. Unfazed, Karan lightly swung his scabbard again. For the first time, Najin’s sword and Karan’s scabbard collided.

A sword without aura cannot block a sword enveloped in aura.

A basic understanding, yet Sword Masters reign above such logic. Karan’s scabbard, devoid of aura, effortlessly redirected Najin’s sword. It was the flow along the scabbard that made it possible.

Clank!

But Najin didn’t fluster.
He instantly adjusted his stance and unleashed a flurry of strikes at Karan. Amidst the accelerated sword swings, Karan’s scabbard penetrated Najin’s vulnerabilities repeatedly.

Knocked back, tumbling to the ground.

It happened just once. Najin didn’t expose the same flaw again. Although it’s said that once a stance becomes habitual, it’s hard to correct, there are always exceptions.

‘What is this…’

Volkman, witnessing Najin’s real-time posture adjustments and covering his vulnerabilities, was astounded.

‘Indeed.’

Karan smiled slightly.
He began to understand why Volkman had highly rated this young man. Certainly, a remarkable talent. He knows how to control his body.

And then…

Karan’s gaze sharpened.

He felt Atanga’s swordsmanship in Najin’s swings, saw the roughness of mercenaries, and sensed Volkman’s style too. Najin’s swordsmanship was a mix of many, yet not fully harmonized.

Merely imitating others.
Not truly his own swordsmanship.

‘Talented in imitation, is he?’

Let’s see about that.
Having probed enough, Karan adjusted his grip on the scabbard.

What he demonstrated was the Order’s swordsmanship.

The title of Sword Saint, the pinnacle of the Order of the Sword, is not just given for reaching the Sword Master level. It’s awarded to those who ascend to the extreme of all swordsmanship and stances present in the Order.

Among the three existing Sword Masters.

If it comes to pure swordsmanship, no one can beat Karan. His achievements in swordsmanship were that extraordinary.

“……”

Finally, Karan began his technique.
Najin’s eyes widened. Not a skill that transformed or endowed properties to sword aura, but one purely executed through physical movement.

A technique that can be mimicked if seen.
If only observed, it can be replicated.

Najin was confident in this. He had always succeeded in doing so and had never failed before. Absorbing Karan’s swordsmanship as his own style, Najin focused intently.

‘I’ve seen it. Pictured it in my mind.’

Receiving a blow, Najin was pushed back.
Surely, different from Volkman’s. Although from the same Order, the level of mastery varied significantly. Naturally, if one could wield a sword like that, their own would seem full of flaws.

Mulling over the pictured stance, Najin grimaced. If Volkman’s swordsmanship was depicted in about thirty pictures, Karan’s was well over a hundred.

Drip.

Blood trickled from his nose. His eyes, strained to their limit, stung. Just picturing a single stance had overloaded his mind.

“Imitation is your forte, I hear.”

Karan looked at Najin, flicking his scabbard.

“Steal all you can. Imitate all you want.”

He smiled.

“As long as you can steal, I’m prepared to show you all the swords I possess.”

Challenge accepted.
Karan’s message was clear. Wiping blood from his nose, Najin returned the smile. If Karan was so forthcoming, there was no reason to refuse.

Click.

Grinding his teeth, Najin moved.

Following the images in his mind, he swung his sword. However, he soon realized that his body and the envisioned images slightly misaligned.

34th, 41st, 56th…

Seven images were misaligned.
Though it seemed minor in the grand scheme, to Najin, Karan’s sword trajectory appeared perfect. However, both Najin, swinging his sword, and Karan, observing, knew.

The gaps created by the misalignments. The incompleteness of this strike. Karan easily thrust his scabbard into these gaps. Najin, his posture broken, tumbled to the ground.

“…”

Sitting dazedly, Najin blankly stared at his sword. The images had misaligned. It was the first time he had experienced such a discrepancy. He pondered over the misaligned images.

The feeling of incongruity in motion.

No matter how he moved, some aspects in the images were unattainable. As Najin chewed over this, he stood up.

“You seem to think it’s impossible.”

Karan thrust his scabbard at Najin.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

He spoke indifferently.

“This is my sword. Tailored to my body, my breath, my speed. My own, unique sword.”

He spoke as if stating the obvious.

“Even if stolen, could it ever truly be yours? It’s mine, uniquely mine.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Your talent for imitation is clear. Impressive. But mere imitation is pointless.”

With a flick, Karan whipped his scabbard.
Najin hastily drawn sword’s trajectory was effortlessly shattered. Najin gazed at the scabbard inches from his neck.

“Where is your sword?”

Karan questioned.
The Sword Saint inquiring about the sword.

“Show me your sword. If you haven’t found it yet, create it here. If you can’t…”

Karan’s eyes turned cold.

“This duel is worthless. If all you can do is copy, your sword will never reach its limit.”

And I have no time for pointless duels.

Karan declared. In response, Najin momentarily fell silent, then chuckled. Karan had instigated this duel and now arbitrarily judged its worth. Najin could’ve easily dismissed Karan’s words as nonsense and ignored them, but…

Swoosh.

Instead of ignoring, Najin reached for the scabbard pointed at his neck. This sudden move, as Karan furrowed his brows to retract the scabbard…

Clasp.

Najin’s hand grasped the scabbard. A movement seemingly anticipating its trajectory. Karan narrowed his eyes at this action.

“If this duel gains value.”

Najin questioned, holding the scabbard.

“What can I gain?”

A brazen question.
To this, Karan burst out laughing. Najin, unflinching before the Sword Master, speaking his mind, was refreshingly bold.

“My trust. And a mentor.”
“Mentor, as in…”
“I’ll become your teacher. Of course, only if you wish.”

Najin smiled.

“I like that idea.”

Releasing the scabbard, he stepped back. My own sword, he asked. Dismissed as merely imitative. Indeed, as Karan said.

He never considered his own style.

But Najin wasn’t the type to let such an affront pass. He was determined to throw a curveball at Karan to see him surprised.

His own sword was unclear, but…

A variable. Something unique he had: his vision and snap judgment.

Now, extending to a momentary foresight.

Najin’s eyes glinted with a sunset hue.