Chương 37: Chapter 36: Sword Qi

The dark ether around Yuto's weapon made the air shake. It was sword qi, created from ether in exactly the same way as the ghost had done, using the royal family's secret technique.

"You! You!" the ghost shouted, shock blending into his voice. Only royalty was allowed to learn this technique, and the ghost had been the last person on Earth to know how it was used. He had never passed it on to anyone since he had no children. Here was this common grave robber, however, utilizing his family's secret that had died with him. How?

If he had been a little bit more in possession of his faculties, he could have stopped to consider a little more closely how this could be, but his mind had been ruined five years ago. In fact, it had been deteriorating long before that. For he was a fool, a damned fool who had fallen prey to loneliness and deprivation.

The Broken Star had pushed him to the edge, made him commit a sin that could never be forgiven and earned him lasting hatred, but the man's mind had been touched by madness before that had even happened. And that was why the ghost didn't give too much thought to who Yuto could be. To him, Yuto was just an intruder who had dirtied the sacred castle with his presence. Somehow, he had learned the royal family's secret technique and made it his own.

The boy was obviously not of royal blood, which made him a thief, and not just a thief, but a criminal deserving of death.

"You wretch! I condemn you to death!" the ghost cried. It was already treason to dare to steal the secret technique of the royal family. But he had dared to come in here, lusting after Velkyne's Treasure. As Velkyne's last king, he found this unforgivable. The ghost spiraled even more heavily out of control. He launched himself forward at Yuto. The purple arms arrayed themselves in neat rows around him. They formed what looked like a massive spearhead, trying to plunge into his body.

The ether that Yuto was manipulating affected the Void Hands as well. Swirling ether wrapped itself around the Void Hands, just like with the dagger, and crashed into the arms. There was a deafening noise. Yuto swung his dagger. The vortex lengthened, providing the extra reach the dagger needed. The ghost brought its sword swinging down, and it hit the dagger at full force. Ether sparks flew in all directions. Yuto set his teeth. The ghost was so strong.

The savage force wasn't something his fourteen-year-old body could handle. He felt so much pain that he wondered if his bones had been crushed. Already, he couldn't feel the wrist of the hand that held the dagger. Yuto couldn't afford to pause and recuperate, however. He could see the ghost's eyes from up close. They burned with regret, hatred, and killing intent, and they tore his heart apart.

"Die!" the ghost screamed with a sweeping blow. It was the Sixth Form of the Velkyne Sovereign Sword Style—Rending Claws of the Lion. A single swing sufficed to produce five different streaks that flew at Yuto at the same time. Using Void Steps didn't let Yuto sidestep the assault completely. It bit into his thigh and his side, ripping his flesh and drawing a heavy flow of blood. Yuto gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand upright. His lungs were burning, and every bone in his body screamed for rest.

Yuto's eyes did not falter, however. He ignored the pain and suffering. His current task was to pass judgment on the foolish monarch, not to offer consolation to a father who had lost his mind. Bit by bit... he thought. He took a step back and clutched the wound at his side. He was glad to see it wasn't so deep that his internal organs had been exposed. The same went for his thigh. As long as he could shut out the pain, he would still be able to move. I am beginning to see. The ghost was strong.

He couldn't help but admit it. But that was to be expected. Luke Velkyne had been the greatest warrior Velkyne had ever known in the world that he remembered, the one in which Yuto had been his son, and he was Yuto's father. He had admired his father's ability to use the sword. In the entire history of his family, there had been no fighter like him. Yuto had learned to wield the sword at an early age from his father.

Despite the affairs of state that kept him occupied, he would smile at Yuto when Yuto showed up with a wooden sword in hand, asking to train, and give his son what he wanted. Your movements... Yuto could still remember swinging the wooden sword about in his father's office, piled high with documents and smelling of ink and paper. Yuto had been taught how to hold his weapon, how to stab, how to swing, how to move with his feet as he did all the above. I... know them.

Luke had taught his young son the basics of sword fighting, but Yuto had been too young back then. His body hadn't been mature enough for him to gain full mastery of the secret style, and he'd been sorely lacking in ether as well. That was why he had created a royal book of secrets meant for his son's eyes alone. After the Constellations' curse had killed his father, Yuto had trained with the Royal Guard and practiced what was in the king's tome on his own.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. It wasn't just the tome that allowed him to do this. Yuto held certain memories in his mind that he never wished to forget. I know them... very, very well. He might not have been physically capable of mastering the techniques he'd seen, but his eyes had taken them in and remembered.

His father had shown him the techniques more than once as a child, and he had also watched his father train at the practice grounds on many occasions. The graceful motions of his father's sword, sometimes rapid, sometimes slow, but never imprecise, were burned into his mind.

"You must remember all of it," his father had told him with a faint smile every time he made a demonstration. Looking back on that now... His father had probably already known, by that point, that his death was on the horizon. He would have known that he would be leaving his son behind, unable to teach his grown son when he was finally ready to learn.

"Yes..." Yuto said. There was a storm deep inside of him. They were the precious memories he had stored away. They washed over him now. He recalled the father he respected, the father who no longer existed as his past did not exist. He thought of his father's sword. Then his gaze moved to the weapon of the ghost who was nothing but a sorry heap of insanity.

"I do. I recall everything," he repeated. The ether spun around the ghost's weapon, then detonated into dozens of piercing rays. They were alarmingly and ominously colored now, but Yuto remembered how they had originally looked—as beautiful as the galactic stream of stars that flowed across the night sky. Eighth Form of the Velkyne Sovereign Sword Style, Flowing Star Canopy, Yuto thought. He didn't try to step away from the streaking starlight. Instead, he quietly lifted his dagger.

He had never learned every technique from his father in the world before this one. His own sword techniques had been based on his memories of his father's demonstrations, the written tome his father had left behind, and the teachings of the Royal Guard. Then they had been honed by the countless battles he fought throughout his life. This ghost was still very much the greatest warrior in Velkyne—but not in Yuto's world. In that world, that distinction had belonged to Yuto, who had overtaken his father.

The rushing starlight was beautiful, but it contained the coldness of death. Any normal swordsman would have been terrified and backed away, to their peril. Yuto instead took one step forward. His Star Canopy was always so beautiful. Utterly dark ether from the Void rippled in his eyes. But it was never perfect. He had known this only vaguely as a child, but after he had grown, and emerged victorious in many battles, and become a hero, he had finally understood. It was a close call.

The Obsidian Dagger followed the shortest path and deflected the rays. Metallic clanging filled the air. The dagger moved without rest. Yuto's eyes were tracing each trajectory with precision. He knew the angle of the ghost's sword, how the wrist twisted, the flow of the ether that had created these streaking attacks. Everything is just as I remember… Or is it? He paused. Wrong. The ghost's technique had far more gaps and vulnerabilities.

"N-no! Impossible!" the ghost cried in astonishment. Yuto exhaled and bit his lip. He forced himself to be even more level-headed than before. The ghost's bitterness-fueled strength was nothing to laugh at. The way it was eaten away by madness, dead but unable to rest, trapped at the base of a ruined royal castle and protecting the sword, shook Yuto in ways he could not explain. But now Yuto saw a way to defeat it. Their exchange of blows just now had allowed him to understand perfectly.

The ghost had the name Luke Velkyne, but it was not his father from his past. His weapon technique wasn't quite at the level of his father's. Yuto thought he could guess why that was. Yuto's father had trained continually for his son, wanting to make his technique as perfect and beautiful as possible, so that he could pass it down to his son one day. But this ghost was different. He had already been the greatest warrior of the kingdom. And he hadn't had a son, who he wished would surpass him one day.

He lacked the passion to teach his own offspring. His mind had unraveled when he lost his beloved wife, and he had been unable to dedicate himself to his training. The difference showed starkly in the way he wielded his weapon. Yuto was no longer overwhelmed or amazed by the ghost's attacks. All he had to watch out for now were the purple arms that symbolized the ghost's guilt and floated around him. These things were still quite strong and could defeat Yuto given the chance.

But Yuto wasn't as frightened of them anymore, either, since it was the ghost who controlled them. Every movement of the arms was based on the royal technique that the ghost had learned. No matter how formidable something was, if it could be avoided, then it would never do any damage. Yuto erased the image of his father from his mind. The tables had turned. The all-consuming barrage that had hemmed Yuto in a while ago was lost, no longer possessing a clear target.

The arms made their strange noises and tried to come at him, but he detected every single movement without fail and swerved out of the way. The attacks swung past, hissing through the air and grazing his hair, but Yuto's eyes remained calm as the surface of a still lake. He adjusted his grip on his Obsidian Dagger and extended his Void Hands from behind his back to intercept the ghost's swings.

"No... This cannot be!" the ghost screamed. It used the Sixth Form, Rending Claws of the Lion, again. Five streaks of purple tore through the room and fell on Yuto's body. Yuto didn't lean on Void Steps this time—instead, the Obsidian Dagger developed a coating of ether. Yuto stood still and tilted the tip of the blade. It sank right in between the claw-like projectiles, and an explosion ensued. Only the ghost was sent sliding backward from the recoil. The ghost choked.

He recognized the Second Form—Vulnerability Strike. It involved detecting the weakest point of an ether attack and dissolving its power. It was not a simple technique in the least. He was astonished to see that his royal technique had just been countered by a thief and a traitor, someone who did not have a drop of royal blood in him.

"I can see that you stopped training with your sword," Yuto said dryly. He strode forward.

"The king is meant to use his blade to protect his people. He is to cut down the enemies that come at his kingdom. But your weapon... has lost its purpose," Yuto said.

"Your loneliness weighs heavier than your duty." The ghost trembled in silence. These words were a declaration of guilt against his sins, a verdict passed against him.

"You are no king," Yuto announced.