Everlast Ruins
[You have defeated 'Weakened Puppet Warrior'!]
[You have acquired a new title: 'Clumsy Brawler'!]
"Haa… haaah."
Before the collapsed puppet, I stood gasping for breath.
The lingering tension and the thrill of accomplishment tangled in my chest, pounding wildly.
Of course, the biggest thought that came to mind was—
"God, that was damn exhausting!"
Still, this was my very first defeat of an enemy.
I had completely taken it down.
Sure, the fight had devolved into a messy brawl by the end, but…
'A win's a win, no matter how ugly!'
Of course, it would've been nice if I could've ended things cleanly with a single refined technique—like when I fought Marquis Reut.
But this time, Flow Redirection hadn't shown any real effect.
'Well, the circumstances were different, after all.'
In truth, this principle loses efficiency the more you try to apply it repeatedly.
'Makes perfect sense when you think about it.'
Flow Redirection (移花接木)—literally, "transplanting flowers onto another tree."
Naturally, once you've failed once, succeeding the next time becomes even harder.
Because of that, I had to grit my teeth and go head-to-head with the Puppet Warrior in a pure test of strength.
And in the end, I smashed through its chest and succeeded in returning the thing to dust and clay.
"Phew…"
After steadying my breath, I stood and approached the puppet's remains.
There was something to check.
When an enemy is fully defeated rather than just subdued, it's possible to obtain additional loot from its corpse.
Amid the crumbled fragments, a few glimmering items caught my eye.
[You have obtained 4 Gold Coins!]
[You have obtained a Mid-grade Mana Stone (Fire Attribute)!]
[You have obtained a Puppet Warrior's Crystal Shard!]
All together, that was worth roughly fifteen gold coins.
Just for taking down one monster, I'd earned that much reward.
'Pretty lucrative, as expected.'
Still, my mind was preoccupied with something else.
Something I'd realized through that battle.
'I can't master Haewoo Swordsmanship on my own after all.'
I urgently needed a teacher—someone who could help me truly make this sword art mine.
That was the conclusion I'd come to.
My original plan?
It was to naturally improve my swordsmanship through the battles I'd encounter in quests.
And it wasn't an impossible plan.
That's how I'd always played the game, after all.
'Just like in the original game, I still have the hit-point system.'
Which meant I believed I could easily polish my swordsmanship even while grinding monsters.
'And that method had clear advantages.'
By training that way, I could raise my skills just enough to progress through quests efficiently.
'Plus, the small hunting rewards were a nice bonus.'
But now I'd just confirmed that such an approach was no longer viable.
The reason was simple.
'The game and reality are completely different.'
In the original, all I had to do was time my keyboard and mouse inputs correctly to perform sword techniques.
That process naturally raised "proficiency," allowing the swordsmanship to evolve.
But now that I was wielding a real sword myself, things were a little different.
Haewoo Swordsmanship
Achievement Rank: 1 Star
Proficiency: 2.25%
At the one-star stage, where you've only just begun training, proficiency should normally skyrocket quickly.
And yet—
'Two percent? That's it?'
At first, I thought I'd misread it as twenty-two percent. The number was that ridiculous.
Even so, this tiny bit of progress was probably thanks to my duel with Marquis Reut, where I'd at least exchanged real sword blows once.
'Given the Puppet Warrior's level, it should've risen by at least eight percent.'
…Something wasn't working the way it did in the original game.
Why?
I wasn't sure, but I suspected the problem lay in the very concept of "proficiency."
Haewoo Swordsmanship is a composite art—very different from the single-skill structure of Fate Cards.
First, the composition itself.
Haewoo Swordsmanship consists of thirty-six major and minor techniques:
Ten offensive forms, called Sword Strike Forms.
Ten defensive forms, called Guard Forms.
Ten special forms, called Sea Forms.
And six supplementary techniques—body movements, martial arts, and breathing methods that don't involve a sword.
All together, those thirty-six make up a single comprehensive skill set bound under the framework of Haewoo Swordsmanship.
Just as being good at throwing punches doesn't make you a true fighter, each component here interacts with and reinforces the others to create synergy.
That's where the concept of proficiency comes in.
Proficiency represents your ability to link separated techniques organically and understand them as one unified discipline.
To put it simply—
'If Haewoo Swordsmanship is a forest, the individual techniques are the trees that make it up.'
So I have to wander through this forest thoroughly—
First grasping its overall structure, then learning which trees grow closely together.
Only then can I make proper use of the forest as a whole.
That's why this troublesome concept of proficiency exists in the first place.
It's tedious, having to care about skill proficiency when I'm already busy leveling up.
But if there's a downside, there's also an upside.
Every time proficiency fills up, the composite art evolves to a new level.
'From zero stars to nine.'
As achievement rank rises, the character's strength increases dramatically.
'New sub-skills keep emerging, and the difference in power becomes incomparable.'
It's the complete opposite of the Fate Card system, where everything depends on luck.
'Here, you grow stronger in direct proportion to your effort.'
Those who reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship through this path were known as Swordmasters—people like Elron Reut.
Conversely, in the realm of magic, figures like the Emperor Bareschan and the Archmage of the Five-Color Spire reigned supreme as Magic Masters.
They were beings who pushed a single power to its utmost extreme.
…And me?
I was just someone standing at the starting line, barely tying my shoelaces.
This guy, Gilroshan, had somehow managed to maintain perfect purity—never touching sword or spell.
Damn it.
What the hell had he been doing for twenty years?
'If I'd wasted the time myself, at least I wouldn't feel this cheated.'
In the original game [Gods. Demons. World.] every NPC possessed a hidden stat called "Potential," which gradually filled to its expected value over time.
I wondered for a moment if Gilroshan might also grow according to the potential he possessed as an NPC…
'No. Absolutely not!'
I refused to believe that.
This body had once belonged to one of the Empire's most infamous good-for-nothings—an utter fool and degenerate!
Assuming he'd grow only according to his NPC potential would've been far too cruel a fate for me.
'Though, honestly, I think I've already outgrown that "idiot" label.'
Gilroshan had acquired an S-rank swordsmanship art and a C-rank Fate Card.
…All entirely through my own effort.
Sure, I was only just standing at the starting line, but calling Gilroshan a "trash character" now felt wrong.
'He's usable now. He can keep growing.'
If proficiency meant viewing swordsmanship as a whole and mastering it from that perspective—
Then maybe my growth was slow because I couldn't yet see Haewoo Swordsmanship in its entirety.
If there was something the hit-point system failed to capture—
'Then I just need someone beside me to help.'
Support NPCs existed exactly for that reason.
Teachers. Coaches. Mentors…
They appeared in many forms to assist the player's growth.
If I had gone down the path of a mage instead, I wouldn't even be worrying about this.
'Because I already have Tyrbaen by my side.'
The seven-star little witch was already with me, fully capable of serving as a growth supporter.
But I wasn't a mage now.
So I needed another NPC to fill that same role—
Someone who could advise me on sword techniques and help increase my swordsmanship proficiency through sparring.
…Kals?
Unfortunately, he was out of the question.
Currently, Kals was a six-star Imperial knight, trained in three sword arts.
Considering his age, that was impressive—but still…
'Kals's main discipline is the Frontier Swordsmanship of the Heavy Blade line. His Swift Swordsmanship and Linked Swordsmanship haven't even reached five stars.'
To qualify as a teacher for a player, you needed to be at least seven stars, and your technique's affinity couldn't conflict with the student's.
'Of course, Kals will probably reach seven stars soon.'
But that would only apply to his Heavy Blade style.
He was still a long way from being able to instruct me in Haewoo Swordsmanship, which was a Swift Sword style.
The most effective option was clear—
To learn directly from an NPC who also specialized in Haewoo Swordsmanship.
'The problem is, that sword art originates from the Baekseon Clan of the Eastern Continent.'
Historically, the Baekseon Clan rebelled against the Kingdom of Luxen and was eventually destroyed.
That's why Haewoo Swordsmanship was now practically a lost art.
However—
I knew that a small number of Baekseon survivors still existed.
In the southeastern region of the continent, in a place called the Vagrant Docks, those remnants of the Baekseon Clan lived together.
'Among them is a swordsman who's eight stars strong.'
A bit of a cynical old man, but with a surprisingly kind heart beneath it.
If I wanted to truly grow my Haewoo Swordsmanship, I'd have to seek him out.
'At least it's not too far from Aulrax. That's a relief.'
Once this quest was over and I obtained a travel permit, I'd head there immediately.
"I was originally planning to hit three stars in Haewoo Swordsmanship before leaving…"
I sighed. The goal would have to be lowered.
'Let's just try to reach two stars.'
…Within the next three hours!
After confirming that my stamina had fully recovered, I started walking again.
Step, step…
'Maybe it's because of this sudden change in plans?'
My legs felt strangely heavy.
No status ailment appeared, yet my body felt sluggish—like soaked cotton.
What's going on?
A heavy darkness with not a single ray of light.
Five stone coffins lay half-buried in fine sand.
All of them had open lids—empty to the eye.
Yet within each one, something faintly alive pulsed and stirred, slowly but unmistakably.
Like holy water poured long ago…
Or forgotten deaths steeped in silence.
They shimmered quietly, keeping their vigil.
Then, one of them suddenly projected a distinct thought beyond its coffin.
—There is a visitor.
The red light inside that coffin began to glow brighter, as if analyzing what it had sensed.
Another coffin responded, this one shining blue.
—Hmm. I see. A young man is approaching this way.
Then a third, glowing green, spoke next.
—I was just enjoying a rare glimpse of the outside world. Who might he be?
The golden coffin answered the green one.
—A scion of the Emperor's bloodline. I can feel the right to the throne we once bequeathed long ago.
—Ohhh…
The mention of bloodline and throne drew silence from the others, each startled.
But the hush did not last long.
—Well, it's not unheard of. It's happened before, hasn't it?
—True. So many wander through this place now, it's hardly surprising anymore.
—Hm? Isn't that something beyond this dimension's concern?
—Ah, right, of course.
The coffins murmured among themselves.
—…Silence.
The voice that stilled them came from the black coffin in the center.
Then, astonishingly, the shadowy being inside extended an arm into the air and began to rise.
Writhing darkness coalesced into a single shape.
—This visitor…
It was human-shaped—but made of shadow.
And unlike a normal shadow, it expressed emotion.
—Oh, so it isn't just anyone.
That emotion—was joy.
—Very different indeed. That one… is special. Hahaha…
The shadow laughed, full of dark delight.
Then it stepped out onto the ground and slowly turned around.
—A special guest deserves a fitting welcome.
And a cold laugh swirled through the chamber like a storm.
Hahahahaha…