NOVEL NEXT Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Aura Weapon. It was one of the few remnants of mana that Choi Yeon-woo could perceive in a state where he felt no mana at all.
In martial arts terms, it represented the realm of sword energy causing harm. It was a technique that went beyond merely coating a weapon with mana, allowing one’s unique mana to be engraved into the weapon itself, entering an abstract domain.
One might think that if one could simply manifest mana into form, reaching this realm would be straightforward. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.
Weapons are comprised of physical materials, while mana is a type of life force in its nascent state.
Imbuing mana into physical weaponry and enhancing its performance in real-time was a notion that transcended comprehension.
Of course, even the Aura Weapons used by Sister Claire or Yuri did not rely on their unique mana, meaning it could be said that they had hardly seen the true essence of Aura Weapons.
As aura masters awakened their unique mana, their Aura Weapons mirrored the properties of that mana. It was something Yeon-woo hoped to witness someday.
Lost in thought, Yeon-woo gazed up at the sky.
Had he ever had a harder time breathing? His chest felt as if it would burst, as his whole body trembled, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t lift himself up.
“…”
“Oh dear, Yeon-woo. What are you doing lying there? Can’t you get up this much?”
“Wait a moment, Sister…”
The breaths that couldn’t even be forced out began to spill.
Yeon-woo shot a hurried glance at Yuri beside him, seeking help. Yuri, who wore a profound expression while glaring at Claire, slowly shook his head. This meant he had already given up his daily practice rights.
This was why people in high positions needed to choose their words carefully. They might ascend to a lofty realm where they could even disregard the laws of the world, yet that very status could bind them by their own words, leaving them unable to help their poor disciple!
Having exchanged lightly crossed blades with Yeon-woo, Claire had mentioned she could assist in improving Yeon-woo’s technique. Truthfully, until that point, things had been fine.
She thought it would be better to listen to Sister Claire’s sweet voice rather than Yuri’s thick and heavy one that sounded like a cave.
She began to explain her method of improvement. At first, Yeon-woo merely listened, feeling like he was absorbing some sort of common knowledge. But as it went on, he sensed something strange, and both Yuri and Yeon-woo’s expressions stiffened.
After a long silence, Yeon-woo and Yuri had several questions about her methods.
Had she ever used them? If so, why did she choose such methods? How effective were they?
Given that Yuri also asked questions relating to Yeon-woo’s survival, it seemed he was genuinely concerned for him.
Despite recognizing the warm bond between them, her responses indicated she had indeed used her methods, had seen results, and was still implementing them.
In that moment, Yeon-woo realized: he was doomed.
*
The leading cause of death among elves was none other than suicide.
With the exception of dragons, elves boasted the longest lifespan, allowing them to live nearly a thousand years if no significant issues arose. However, truly ancient elves were rare. That lifespan only applied under ideal circumstances; the actual average lifespan is believed to be around five to six hundred years.
Despite their god-given beauty and extraordinary abilities, the reason they chose the horrific option of suicide sparked much debate.
It had even escalated to the palaces seeking answers to this pandemic of suicides.
And within this era, the sword saint Claire Wigdrie, who had taken up her sword for over a decade since becoming the youngest master, realized something was off.
“…There are no suicides among the knights?”
The suicide rate spiked dramatically with age. The average age of the knights in the palace was around three to four hundred. While not greatly aged, it was still a group classified as at-risk by society.
Holding a suspicion, she began researching other groups’ suicide rates. From the Forest Rangers to maids of the palace, the strongest indications came from the Forest Rangers and reserves.
Forest Rangers were tasked with subduing monsters, preventing sea disasters, and assisting visitors near the cities of Wigdria. They were arguably the busiest group under the Wigdria palace.
Wigdria’s territory extended beyond just the capital; it spread through forests across the continent. Most elves observed in foreign lands hailed from these Forest Rangers, emphasizing their hectic schedule.
Their suicide rates were remarkably low. Unless one resigned, recruitments were quite rare there. Less than 1%. It could almost be said to be nonexistent.
In stark contrast, the suicide rate among the reserve forces was alarmingly high. The reserves were… well, former elite elves who had retired from the front lines. Many were sword instructors, magic consultants, and the like. Saying that most retired elves belonged to the reserve forces simplifies the narrative.
While the population in the reserves was greater than the Forest Rangers, and thus cannot serve as an absolute gauge, it was still noteworthy.
Retired reserve elves, enjoying their newfound free time, could pursue hobbies. They might study subjects they previously wanted to or travel abroad.
Why would those doing what they wanted resort to suicide? With such questions in mind, Claire began her investigation and soon discovered the reasons why those about to enjoy their golden years chose the fatal path.
Why didn’t those who worked hard commit suicide?
“Uh…? Cakes secretly eaten while knights are sweating under the blazing sun are much tastier, no?”
While munching on a cream cake in a room marked ‘Knight Commander’s Office’ with a quirky handwriting, the blonde elven youth Claire thought so.
It was an issue of life’s tangibility, an extreme sense of boredom.
For elves, living nearly a thousand years made it difficult to grasp the essence of life. When busy working, thoughts slipped away, but during retirement, the disillusionment increased.
Hobbies are enjoyable when pursued alongside work, but the idea of pursuing hobbies endlessly often leads to growing weary.
*
“So, when one feels the joy of being alive, they no longer contemplate suicide.”
“Wait, that seems like quite a leap, doesn’t it?”
“A leap? It’s effective, I assure you! My proposal has reduced the suicide rate among elderly elves by nearly 90%. It’s an extraordinarily groundbreaking idea! And it serves as a vital force for growth!”
Yuri thought it through. Certainly, if pushed this hard, they’d recognize the joy of life and get better. It’s paradoxical to have a desire to live so fiercely that one would almost wish for death.
Claire was a ghost.
She makes them run. Forces them to run, then run some more. If they can breathe, they run. If they seem unable to breathe, she pushes them to run until they can. Oh my, has your leg started trembling? Shall we get you up?
She makes them swing their swords. They swing and swing again. If their arms can move, she makes them swing. Until their arms can no longer move. Oh my, your arms are twitching? Want to swing one more time?
She makes them squat. Up and down they go, in a cycle. Oh my, your toes are still moving? Shall we do one more?
Radiating a beautiful smile as if flowers bloom across her face, Claire exuded a pressure beyond that brightness. Yuri sensed that weight long ago.
The World Tree, Wigdria. It felt as if the majestic tree of the fairy kingdom he once laid eyes upon was alive.
“Hmm? What did you say, Yeon-woo? Say it again.”
“L-life….”
“…Ah! You want to lose weight?”
“Help… me….”
Shar could only watch from a distance, trembling in fear.
*
“Master…!!”
“Disciple…!!”
Yuri and Yeon-woo shared a heated embrace. One would wonder why they were making such a fuss. Claire, swept up in an odd state of incompleteness, stepped back with a slightly dissatisfied expression.
“Though I withheld a lot, knowing it might be too much for a growing child, how do you feel?”
“W-what do you mean…?”
“I mean, how do you feel?”
Yeon-woo was struck with quite a shock at her claims of restraint, but Claire pressed on with a cold countenance.
“Being alive… really is a good thing.”
Though it was a comment made while staring up at the blue sky, Yeon-woo felt its depth resonating within him. He was known for manipulating others, but Claire’s approach seemed of an entirely different dimension.
What should he say, did it feel like there was a sense of malice trying to keep someone in a limbo of life and death?
It wasn’t really the phrasing for a nun, but that training from moments prior felt as though it was genuinely aiming to crush him. Had it not been for Shar, who filled Yuri’s personal space with life mana and healing, he might not have been able to move until the next day.
“Well, technically, I wouldn’t criticize your method, even if it was erroneous. There are means that only the weak have to use. Those who can choose, that’s the strong, not the weak.”
“…That’s true.”
“However, to be frank, I can’t commend you. Ultimately, that’s just gnawing on your own flesh. Once a significant gap in ability occurs, it becomes ineffective. If you truly want to become strong, it would be wise to abandon that habit.”
Claire’s words resonated with Yeon-woo. The means available due to his status as the weak.
That was indeed true. The style of fighting with one’s life on the line, where one gives bones to take life, was crystallized from past lives. Being inherently unsuitable and reliant solely on his quick wits, he’d aimed to exchange maximum damage for minimal injury.
Naturally, it’s obvious that such a method would not always be successful. No matter how much he tried to avoid grave injuries, minor mistakes or the sheer fragility of his body had led him on the brink of death numerous times.
If he continued this method, even after gaining mana, it was easy to predict that the same events would recur numerous times.
“…But then how am I supposed to fight?”
However, understanding one’s intention doesn’t mean all problems resolve. Styles are especially difficult in that regard. Can one simply let go of something just by thinking about it?
Instead of answering, Claire glanced at Yuri. Yuri, gently stroking his chin, slowly opened his mouth.
“In that case, Old Man can help you.”
“Pardon?”
In response to Yuri’s confident assertion, Yeon-woo absentmindedly asked back.
“Who do you think the Old Man is, my disciple?”
“Um, that’s Swordmaster Yuri, right…?”
“Correct. The Old Man has collected many swords to the point of embarrassment. He’s clashed blades until he forgot who he had not dueled against.”
Yuri’s life was one of madness. He was so enamored with swords that he appeared to be losing his mind. Chasing just his desires, he’d even defied physical limitations to the point of having a rebirth.
“What kind of battles do you want to fight? Which sword do you want to wield? How do you want to dodge attacks, how do you wish to block, and how do you plan to counterattack?”
He hadn’t won all battles. Yet all of them had been inscribed within his mind. No matter if accused of theft, or scorned as a shameless man trying to steal others’ wisdom.
“Let’s find out what path suits you.”
He would have clashed countless swords for that purpose.
(To be continued in the next part)