Last time I’d looked, a crescent as thin as a fingernail had hung over the pond.

The Heavenly Demon had called that state the Realm of the Waning Moon.

But now, the moon’s reflection sat there plump and full, like a fish that had fattened nicely.

“What... is this?”

I stared blankly at the pond with the crescent moon resting upon it.

Without my noticing, the Realm of the Waning Moon had risen to the Realm of the Half-Moon.

‘I didn’t train separately. Why?’

All I’d done was sprawl out and sleep for two days straight.

Just resting, and my realm advanced? Is that even possible?

“...”

Martial arts are a mystery. You can swing a sword until your arms fall off and feel nothing, then take one good sleep and suddenly everything deepens.

So it hadn’t been my imagination—how my body brimmed with strength, every joint moving smoothly without a single snag.

Across from me, the Heavenly Demon looked down at the moon in the pond and said,

[It seems what you needed was rest.]

I raised my head to him.

[There are times when taking rest matters more than pushing on with training.]

“News to me.”

[It isn’t that your realm rose while you did nothing. That’s impossible.]

Hands folded behind his back, he spoke evenly.

[Remember the time you kindled sword-qi on a broken blade tip, the hours you swung like a madman in the clearing, the journey to Ophosis’s Tomb, subduing the rampaging Black Knight, the steady breathing cultivation you kept up.]

A breeze stirred, ruffling his robe.

He let the wind pass and continued,

[All of that gathered and soaked into your body. Just because it hadn’t taken shape didn’t mean it vanished. It was stored up, and only now has it been digested.]

“...”

I watched the crescent floating in the pond.

[I have a guess.]

“What is it?”

[As soon as you returned from the journey, you seized a Cursed Sword and faced a Black Knight in rampage.]

I nodded. “I did.”

[And after that, you barely slept, did you?]

“...”

[Because you’d witnessed the danger of a Cursed Sword up close, you felt the burden of finding it a proper master. Ophosis’s worried gaze must have lingered in your mind. Your heart and body had no room to settle.]

I said nothing, only kept my eyes on the crescent.

[But when Sir Fluffy claimed the sword and became its true master, you finally let yourself relax. You sank into sleep at last. While you slept long and deep, the fruits of your training finally melted into your heart and body.]

...No wonder I’d slept so long.

[In martial arts, the key is steadiness of Heart and Body—harmony between External and Internal Arts. When those two mesh, there’s a point where things explode forward. That’s the moment you leap a grade.]

“...”

[Your accumulated inner force was just shy of the Half-Moon, but that elixir you ate filled the gap and pushed you up the step.]

He studied my face and tilted his head.

[Why the look? Is this not good? You’re achieving faster than even I expected.]

“...It’s good. Just... abrupt.”

[It isn’t luck. It’s the result of steady practice.]

I lifted my gaze to him.

With hands clasped behind his back, the Heavenly Demon smiled faintly.

[What did I tell you? Enlightenment comes like a thief.]

I stared at him a moment...

Then a smile slipped out.

“Heh-heh.”

[Heh-heh-heh.]

“Ha... Hahaha!”

[Hahaha!]

Master and disciple laughed, facing one another.

I dipped both hands into the pond and lifted.

A Half-Moon lay cradled in my palms.

“Hah... haha...”

And I scattered the crescent light through my fingers as I laughed.

Clatter-clatter...

The carriage’s rumble lingered softly in my ears.

We were still rolling hard toward our destination.

When I opened my eyes, Linda sat across from me.

She pointed with her eyes gone round and cried, “Ah! It disappeared!”

I blinked. “What did?”

“The sparkle, the sparkle!”

“...Sparkle?”

What was she even talking about?

Understanding a madwoman takes effort.

I turned for a second opinion.

Shushruta was staring at me, astonished.

“Ashuban.”

“What.”

“While you were cultivating, you were glowing.”

...What nonsense were they spouting in unison?

I frowned, and Shushruta rushed to explain.

“It’s true! A soft silver light seeped out of you.”

For confirmation, I looked to the order’s young ace. Walpole nodded, equally dazed.

“It’s true. Just as the Shadowless Ghost-Blade said, a gentle radiance burst from you. It was like your whole body was wrapped in aura.”

The Heavenly Demon added his testimony.

[Not unusual. It happens at times.]

“Oh? That so.”

Well then.

“But Sir Walpole.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you sitting like that?”

I stared at him—he was cross-legged on the seat.

He coughed and unfolded his legs. “Ahem. I was... trying it out.”

“...”

Soon after, the carriage crossed the walls and entered the city.

Sadly, I didn’t get to watch.

Since I’d never seen beyond Maia, I wanted to gawk at the cityscape, but Walpole closed the window for security—said my eyes drew too much attention.

So all I could do was listen and imagine. Outside was lively, almost festive.

We drove on through the din until, where it fell away, the carriage at last halted.

“Time to disembark.”

I stepped down and looked around.

Dim light. The underlevel of some large building, by the look of it. People were climbing down from the other carriages one by one.

From the front carriage, the Black Prince descended and strode toward me.

He still wore deep shadows under his eyes—seems he hadn’t slept on the way, either.

“Awake?”

I only nodded.

“You slept well.”

“So I did. First proper sleep in a while.”

“The final bout is tomorrow. Will you rest?”

“We’ll see.”

He nodded. “I’ll have a room assigned. Go up and lie down. Is your left arm healed?”

“Feels like it.”

“Get the physician to examine it. And don’t wander around. Sit tight. This place is already a battlefield. The fight has begun.”

His tone was grave; I stifled a yawn and gave a lazy nod.

“Tch.”

He clicked his tongue, displeased, then turned on his heel and moved off, ringed by Black Knights.

Count Starvanger met my eyes, gave me a faint nod and smile, then followed after the prince.

I glanced around—and my gaze met Sir Fluffy’s as he climbed down from a carriage at the rear.

Fluffy trudged over.

“Devil. Slept well?”

“Like a baby.”

“So it seems.”

“And you?”

“Dozed a little in the carriage.”

“Splendid, Sir Fluffy.”

“...”

My gaze slid to the sword at his hip.

“Vlad behaving?”

“For now.”

“Good.”

“But... I haven’t yet figured out how to wield its power properly.”

Hardly surprising—he’d only had the blade two days. Still, with the final match tomorrow, the timing couldn’t be worse.

I was about to answer when a figure alighted from the same carriage—a woman in gleaming silver armor, her golden hair dazzling in the lamplight.

“Ah, Lord Ashuban. You’re awake.”

It was Ashley, Captain of the Starvanger Knights.

Why was it that everyone from that house radiated such upright energy?

I had a weakness for good-hearted folk, so I answered politely.

“Yes. Two days flat on my back—time I woke.”

“How is your condition?”

“Perfect.”

“I’m relieved.”

She turned to Walpole.

“Sir Walpole.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Did you explain the plan to Lord Ashuban?”

“Ah.”

Walpole made a strangled sound.

“Ah?”

Ashley’s fine brows arched—and her expression turned instantly severe.

Walpole swallowed hard and stammered.

“I... forgot.”

“You forgot?”

“My apologies...”

“Apologies?”

Now this was a knight commander—disciplining her subordinates with practiced ease.

Walpole shot me a desperate look for help, but I slung an arm around Fluffy’s shoulder and steered him away.

“Come on. I’ll show you how to handle Vlad.”

Fluffy, sharp enough to sense the mood, followed without protest.

Linda trotted after, whispering gleefully, “Devil, he’s getting scolded!”

“Shut it. Quiet and follow.”

“Mm.”

Shushruta trailed along, casting pitying glances back at Walpole’s impending execution.

“Have you explained the combatants on each side?”

“I... forgot that too...”

“You forgot that too?”

“I’ll correct it—”

“You’ll correct it?”

Walpole’s faltering voice faded behind us.

“Sit, Sir Fluffy.”

I put him down and launched into a crash course on handling Vlad.

The final battle was tomorrow. No time to waste.

We’d be facing ten knights handpicked by the First Prince. Elites among elites.

Could the still-green Fluffy hope to beat even one of them?

As things stood, not likely.

The Black Prince had warned that in the final match, death was a common outcome. For Fluffy, this moment was life or death.

And I didn’t want him to die—or even be maimed.

Because among all I’d met, he was the most knightly of knights.

So I spoke gravely, setting my hand on Vlad.

“Listen well. Vlad’s a beast. You can’t coax him with gentle words.”

“Then how?”

“Speak the beast’s language.”

“The beast’s... language?”

“Beat the living hell out of him.”

“...”

“Like this.”

Though the master had changed, the blade’s temper hadn’t. So I demonstrated with confidence.

“You dare resist? Resist? Resist?!”

“...”

“You savage brute! Die! Die! Die!”

I stomped the scarlet blade mercilessly, then looked up at Fluffy with a fresh smile.

“See? He gets docile after that.”

“...”

Linda and Shushruta clapped enthusiastically. Don’t ask me why.

Fluffy stared down at Vlad’s unblemished steel, face paling.

Naturally, the blade bore not a scratch. That’s why it was counted among the world’s greatest treasures.

“Your turn, Sir Fluffy.”

He looked from me to the sword, aghast.

“How can you treat a blade so roughly?”

Ah, right. He was a man who treasured his swords more than his own pride—he’d followed Shushruta this far out of vengeance not for being humiliated, but for having his sword ruined.

“Let me help you, then.”

“What are you—”

I shoved him onto the blade and fired spells at his feet.

“What are you doing!”

“Unless you want to lose toes, you’d best keep moving. And if you step anywhere but the sword, remember your old blade? I’ll snap it in half.”

“...!”

Forced, Fluffy tap-danced frantically atop Vlad to avoid the incoming blasts.

“Stop this at once!”

“No can do. Bigger steps!”

“Grrk!”

Each time his boot struck the blade, his face twisted as if he were being trampled.

“Good! Nice rhythm.”

“Enough! Enough, I say!”

“Maybe use your hands too?”

“Aaaargh!”

His cries echoed off the walls.

Clap, clap, clap—

The louder his screams, the louder the applause.

And beneath it all, the Heavenly Demon’s low laughter rumbled, weaving a discordant chorus of agony, cheer, and mirth.

To my ears, it was beautiful.

(End of Chapter)

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