Chapter Title: Molting (4)
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The sudden voice wasn't particularly loud, but it reverberated in their ears as if whispered right up close.
The people in the square craned their necks, searching for the source of the voice.
And then the Black Sword troopers froze in place.
Among them, the Black Sword captain turned pale, sweat pouring down his face.
"...?!"
It was just an old, raspy voice.
But the killing intent carried within it was no trifling matter.
Simply from the menace in that voice, the body of the Black Sword captain—a recognized seventh dan—stiffened up.
'Who is that?!'
The captain was a veteran hardened by countless battlefields.
He forced his rigid body to loosen and reached for his sword.
Crunch, crunch—.
His stiffened body screamed in protest, but he gritted his teeth and moved his arm.
Just as his hand touched the hilt.
"If you draw that, assume you're dead for sure."
The voice rang out again.
This time, everyone knew the source.
No, it was more accurate to say the owner of the voice revealed his position himself.
Clunk—.
A strange footstep echoed.
Clunk—.
As the voice's owner advanced, the crowd around him parted to the sides as if entranced.
There, the man came into view.
He stood about 170 cm tall, with a face that looked well over seventy.
Gray, unkempt hair and beard.
A grumpy expression and beggar-like clothes.
And a single sword hung at his waist.
He was peculiar in many ways, but what truly drew everyone's eyes was his leg.
Clunk, clunk—.
The odd footsteps they'd heard moments ago.
They came from the worn wooden prosthetic strapped to the old man's right leg.
Clunk, clunk—.
Yet strangely, his gait didn't seem hampered by the prosthetic at all.
If they hadn't seen the prosthetic with their own eyes, no one would have guessed he had a disability.
"Who is that?"
"Some random beggar old man?"
The people buzzed at the old man's appearance.
Meanwhile, the Black Sword captain's face grew even more rigid.
'No way?!'
The very first thing a Black Sword recruit did was memorize the profiles of the continent's top experts.
Especially the Masters—down to the tiniest details.
And among those Masters, there was one classified as a special target.
'That guy's… how?!'
The challenger acknowledged by the great Sword Lord himself.
A Master among Masters.
The name slipped from the Black Sword captain's lips.
"Johan… Redner."
Among swordsmen—no, even beyond them—no one was ignorant of that name.
Exclamations of shock erupted from all around, proving it.
"Johan Redner?"
"No way… that Johan Redner?!"
Their names were as renowned as the title of Master, but no Master was more famous than Johan Redner.
A graduate of Yoram, he had challenged the Sword Lord twice and lost both times—a usurper.
The sole survivor despite failing to usurp.
Thus, he was called by another title besides Master.
"The… Unbroken Sword?!"
"The Unbroken Sword, Johan Redner!"
Unbroken Sword (不折劍).
As someone uttered Johan's epithet, all eyes turned to the grumpy old man.
Excitement spread like wildfire.
"A Master! The Unbroken Sword, no less!"
"Is it really Johan Redner? For real?"
"Hey, didn't you hear what the Black Sword troopers said earlier? You think they'd lie?"
"Unbelievable… Black Sword troopers and now the Unbroken Sword!"
"But what's a Master doing here?"
"Can't you tell? He's here for our young master!"
"Oh, the Master staying as a guest of the lord—that one?!"
"So… does that mean our young master Gunter is going to be his disciple?"
"Of course! Young master Gunter deserves it!"
Johan's sudden appearance—right during Gunter's exam—had everyone excitedly speculating.
Meanwhile, ignoring the stares focused on him, Johan leisurely scanned the surroundings.
Then, as his gaze brushed past one end of the crowd and met golden eyes.
'So that's where you were?'
A faint smile tugged at Johan's lips.
By then, Ashraf approached with his retainers and bowed to Johan.
"I thought you'd left."
"I was going to. Until I saw something interesting."
"Pardon?"
Ashraf blinked in confusion, but Johan didn't respond.
Instead, he rummaged in his pocket.
"Let me see, I think I put it around here? Hmm… ah, there it is!"
In Johan's hand was a black dragon medallion.
Its material was unclear—whether blackened by age or made that way.
Ashraf's eyes flashed at the sight.
'That's…!'
Yoram-issued dragon medallions denoted rank by material.
The platinum White Dragon Medallion went to those with the highest talent.
Rare even one per cohort, but rumor held there was a higher rank.
The medallion whispered about like a ghost story among Yoram's cohorts.
'…Black Dragon Medallion!'
Ashraf couldn't tear his eyes from it, having seen the real thing.
And Johan casually tossed this precious Black Dragon Medallion to the Black Sword trooper, speaking lowly.
"I, Johan Redner, second cohort of Yoram, request the qualification exam."
The crowd buzzed at Johan's words.
"What's he saying?"
"The Unbroken Sword is requesting the qualification exam?"
"But our young master's exam is over."
"You idiot! That's why—he's recommending someone else to Yoram, not our young master!"
"So who?"
"…Yeah, who?"
No one could imagine anyone besides young master Gunter worthy of the Unbroken Sword's recommendation, leaving them confused.
And as if mocking their confusion, Johan pointed.
"The examinee will be… that one."
Where Johan's finger pointed.
People along that straight line flinched and sidestepped.
One, two, three.
Over twenty parted in succession.
The human wall split, revealing a boy at the end.
A black-haired boy with golden eyes.
Yuri didn't dodge Johan's pointing finger.
Instead, he pointed at his own face in disbelief.
"…Me?"
"Yeah, you."
Johan smirked, and Yuri shot him an indifferent glance.
The sudden turn of events stirred murmurs.
"Isn't that Yuri?"
"Who's that?"
"You know, the orphan kid living outside the outer walls."
"So… Johan Redner is recommending that kid? To Yoram?!"
"What the hell is going on…?"
Unlike the reactions around him, Yuri stood still.
Instead, he eyed Johan warily, sizing him up.
'So this old man's a Master, huh?'
Even one as renowned as the Unbroken Sword was a bit surprising.
But that was it.
'…What's this geezer's game?'
Yuri knew selfless kindness existed.
But experience taught him malice disguised as kindness was far more common.
That wariness kept his guard up.
He spoke casually.
"Why me?"
"Because I'm recommending you."
"So why recommend me?"
"My choice."
"Don't mess around."
"Who's messing?"
"Even geniuses fail that exam. How am I supposed to pass?"
"Pfft. You really think that?"
Johan laughed, looking at Yuri.
As if to say, don't mess with me.
Eyes that seemed to know him well.
Yuri's face chilled, feeling exposed.
His tone shifted too.
"Old man, you know me? Why act friendly?"
No trace of politeness.
Yet Johan grinned happily.
"Yeah! I know you! Know you plenty!"
"...?"
"A cripple! A soon-to-die cripple."
"...?!"
Yuri's pupils shook.
His heart pounded wildly.
'What does this old man know to say that?'
Did he know about his condition?
Or was it just an insult?
Thoughts raced through his mind, but Yuri forced a calm face.
"So, you're recommending me to Yoram? You?"
"That's right."
"Thanks, but I get to choose if I take the exam, right?"
A choice others would call insane for throwing away an irreplaceable chance.
But Johan liked Yuri's caution even more.
Constant suspicion, constant reflection on his situation.
Wasn't that essential for survival?
Johan burst into a pleased laugh.
"Kindness? You think I'm doing you a favor?"
"Aren't you?"
"I'm just proposing a deal."
"A deal?"
"Something I want to confirm through you."
"…Like what?"
"I'll tell you if you pass the exam."
Yuri's eyes darkened, a question bursting out.
"Then… what do I get out of this deal?"
As if waiting for it, Johan continued.
"You're broken somewhere, aren't you?"
"...?!"
Yuri's eyes widened.
'This geezer… he knows!'
Calling him a cripple wasn't just an insult.
He'd seen right through his condition.
'How? I never told anyone!'
Seeing Yuri's shaken eyes, Johan smiled.
"Horrible headaches, vomiting blood, and… you see yourself in dreams sometimes, right? Yourself as a rampaging monster?"
With each word from Johan, Yuri's face darkened.
A squeezed voice escaped Yuri's lips.
"You know… about this curse?"
"Curse… yeah, curse. Heh, not wrong. Left alone, 'that thing' would've eaten you. You've guessed it, haven't you? Your life's like a candle in the wind?"
"...."
"What do you get out of the deal?"
Johan, with a deep smile, made an irresistible offer.
"I'll save you, and tell you what the curse is. If you accept...."
Johan drew his sword from his waist and held it out.
"Come take this sword. And show me. Whether you're worth saving from that curse!"
Yuri stared silently at the proffered sword.
'He'll… save me?'
The curse that turned him into a ticking bomb.
Yuri didn't want to die—he wanted to live—so he'd scoured the continent for a way to lift it.
Believing he'd find it eventually, he'd met countless people.
But all he'd gained was harsh reality, not answers.
Hard-won leads led to scorn for his youth and poverty.
Or deceitful lies from those trying to exploit him.
So he'd found no clue to the curse's nature, let alone a cure.
'And this old man I just met today knows my curse without me saying....'
Even offering to free him from it.
'Can I trust him?'
It didn't seem like a losing deal.
What did this shady old man really want?
Did he truly know about the curse?
Doubts swirled, but his heart had already decided.
Yuri took a step forward with a sigh.
Step—.
"Haa…."
Fifteen years old.
But having lived more fiercely than most, his desire burned brighter.
'I want to live.'
He didn't want to die like this.
He wanted to live more.
Driven by that longing, he put strength in his legs.
Step—.
His hesitant first step grew firmer.
Step— step.
Passing those watching him, Yuri reached Johan.
"…A warning."
He glared at Johan and reached out.
His pale hand finally touched Johan's sword.
"You asked to see, so I will… but if anyone dies, it's not on me. Your responsibility, old man."
Clank.
With a heavy sound, Johan's sword fully passed to Yuri.
The deal was sealed.