Sword Whisperer

What were you trying to cut?

What to cut.

Nahar's two eyes turned half. The already blurred and blurred eye certainly does not contain half, but Van felt that his eyes were asking him for salvation.

'Bear, Van.'

I grabbed the hallucinogram so that the blade would crumble, the hand would tear. He grasped the glass. To them salvation was only death. And the salvation was only with Van's sword.

It's not hard to cut them off. The stalks embedded in their bodies were not particularly hostile to Van. They were just there. It doesn't require a great skill. Just one ordinary slash, and they will be freed from that endless suffering.

…… and the prison that was built on this crooked rock will also fall.

The world killed his breath. Naharga, Ubowa, Prison, this world seems to be staring at my blade, Van thought.

"Teacher."

Jenson and Lopo's face come to mind. I wanted to ask them. Their years, wrinkled as deep as their wrinkles, can give an answer to this situation? Can you tell me more confidently if I should cut them, if I shouldn't cut them? If it's them.

"........."

He grabs the sword. He points at them, drops the tip of the sword, then raises his lips again with a malicious knife. But in the end, Van's arm was stretched again.

What Van was facing was not just the mountain invoices awaiting death. He was neither a member of Nahar, nor a secret of the Revolutionary Army, nor a Fendel prison.

The source of all the fighting in this world was before him.

Violence that you are forced to choose. Perhaps the first in this world to wage war, the one who waged the fight…… was not in the same position as Van. Knowing that there are only scars left in the world at the end of the choice, nevertheless, pus should not be weaved.

Cut what no one has cut, Van.

I heard Lopo's voice. From the Bamboo Sword, in memory, on Nahar's flesh, he slowly rose up and looked at Van.

You will find the answer.

'I can't see the answer, Lopo.'

I must say, the knife is not meant to answer in the first place.

The voice I heard this time was not Lopo's, but Jenson's. Jenson sits beside Ubows, staring at Van quietly.

I would have told you my truth. Hold the herb in your hand, not the knife. No matter what you cut, all that's left is destruction. Carl can't keep the world healthy. It only hurts.

You didn't see the real face of Carl. The power of the sword makes that examination cut off everything in the world. Even if it is an unreasonable stand in this world.

How much blood do we have to put in our hands to cut that providence?

Jenson raised his body. He pointed to Nahar's body spread out on the ground.

Van, the world made by the sword is just before your eyes. Abandon the vain hope that the sword will save the world. A knife is something that hurts. How can you make the world healthier with your wounds?

Nevertheless, the only thing that can save them now is not a stinking hand, but a hand with a knife.

Lopo looked at Van and asked. His compassionate and selfish eyes seemed to tell Van that he would eventually overcome all this.

Van, what do you want to cut now?

"I……"

Van talks. What do you want to cut? I thought it was an unanswered question, but the answer was clearer than I thought. He wanted to cut the situation. I wanted to cut off the irrationality of this world that could not be sustained without someone's sacrifice.

So, in the end, he was forced to put the knife in the sword. Ubows watched the class quietly. Hatred and self-pity filled his eyes. Ubou was the strongest of those Van had ever met, but at the same time the weakest.

"Did you think I would ring?"

Van asked in a quiet voice. Oobow nods.

"I thought maybe."

"Then this prison will collapse. You still think it's good?"

"…… As I said, fate holds the key to this revolution."

Ubou said in a bitter voice.

"Then, if you can't accept this Revolutionary Party now..... the Revolution is right, the Revolutionary Party will collapse and be complete."

"…… I would like to ask. What difference does it make to a kingdom that has abandoned the North, even if those who burn someone's corpse cause a revolution, and that revolution succeeds?"

Oobow did not answer. That was a question he asked himself countless times. Sometimes he answered, "It would be no harm to burn the bodies of the sinners who deserve to die," but that was an answer he couldn't even convince himself of.

"That's the idea that scares me the most."

Ubows muttered.

"No revolution, in the end, is capable of intrinsically changing the world."

"… just as the world led by sinners cannot be paradise."

Van's blatant Ubou was not angry at Vignan. He had no reason to be angry at Van's trivial pincup because he was the one who was most angry with himself.

"You're right. I am a sinner, Van. But not the revolutionaries. Those who live hardly on this dark land and only look at one of the lights of the revolution..... are united under the good will that I dare to lead. Of course you're right. There is no paradise in the world led by sinners. And so, as the prophecy says, the path of revolution is what you must lead, not me."

"…… what do you want from me?"

"…… the sins I have accumulated are not just the corpses of these people."

Ubowu looked down at the Nahars and said, His sins were unspeakable by hand. He slaughtered so many people, poisoned them, made them commit suicide, and at the same time, under the guise of revolution, many people threw my life away. Made me abandon my family and friends. And finally made them close their eyes in misery, in despair, with a scream.

Nevertheless, 'you were forced to.' Maybe it's what I wanted to hear.

Ubows grabbed his fist. Above the face of weakness alone, a decisive pledge was made.

"When the Revolutionaries are on track, I want you to cut off their old tails. To grow a sturdier tail. So, we can go further."

"Are you telling me you're leaving the Revolutionary Army?"

"No, I'm asking for a revolution."

Oobow grabbed Van's hand. I felt a rough, warm hand trembling with earnestness.

"To find a real paradise, not a fake paradise. To stand on more than one stone, not on the rock of sin."

"…… As I said, I am not a rider, I am a test."

"You don't even have to lift a flag."

Ubou laughed.

"Your blade will be a brighter milestone than a flag."

"........"

Van looks at Ubows without saying a word. And I opened my mouth quietly.

"I have a favor to ask of you."

§

'... revolution.'

Anya looks down at the market looking out the window. In fact, as long as she was out of control, all she could do was look out like this.

Seeing the beast and man mingle, it felt like everything she knew was falling apart. I knew every seed of the night was not threatening, but I never thought it would be possible to symbiotize with them. Naturally, she believed that they would not respect human law.

'.... If there is room for conversation with the night, what are we fighting for?'

Of course, there are still few nightlife beings that are violent. In that regard, the value of the lighthouse was still valid…… but the discipline of the lighthouse that night should be unconditionally annihilated in this world seemed to have fallen.

It wasn't just the seed of the night that made Anya think. I just wondered, when I saw the children running sunny, and, furthermore, when I thought that they would one day be enemies of the kingdom, what the hell would they have to do this for?

'And why is the Revolutionary Army so interested in Van?'

It was simply a useful test, so the attitude shown to them was too favourable. It didn't make any sense to keep the lighthouse's surveillance team in such a decent room right now.

Surely there is something she does not know. Not only that, but I was thinking of Kizzle and Tamby. Even Kizl once asked if Van thought it was likely to be a spy for the Revolutionary Army. I said it would never happen, but the more this strange life continued, the more anxious it became.

"No."

"Oh, what a surprise."

Suddenly I heard Van's voice. Anya glances at Van with a frenzied look. At the end of his training with the stonemason, Van felt more popular. You have to be able to control your presence. As if to boast that it was an examination, the foresight that flowed naturally around his body was certainly more asleep than before.

'.... I am not weaker. It just got stronger.'

I vowed not to fall behind, but I walk half too fast to do so. Anya sighed forcefully and asked.

"Make some noise and go."

"... I'm sorry. I need to talk to you for a second. Do you want to go out and walk?"

"We're going out? We're locked up?"

"Permission granted."

"…… Permission?"

How the hell am I supposed to get permission like that? I wanted to ask you what you're talking about with the Revolutionaries these days. But I couldn't. Van was holding Anya's hand.

"Come with me."

"......."

It was the first time he held her hand here. In the end, Anya was dragged into Van's hands and forced to leave the room with a half-empty expression.

Throughout the hallway, the two of them did not have any conversation. Actually, I wanted to ask you a lot, and I wanted to tell you a lot. Van also knew him, but he made his mouth shut as a tighter grip.

That was when I finally stood in front of the iron gate in the basement. After all, Anya couldn't stand it and turned it in half.

"What. Why did you come all of a sudden?"

"I have something to show you."

"What are you going to show me?"

"What we need to see."

"…… don't keep avoiding answers like that."

Anya looked at Van. It was not a mere question, but an eye with worry and sentiment was facing him. Van chuckles Anya's head with a fluffy smile.

"I'm sorry. Always."

"... I'm not going to apologize to you."

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions. Why do the revolutionaries take such a favorable attitude to Van? How great is that favour, and it reaches us all the way."

"Are you going to tell me……?"

"He said there was a prophecy."

"Prophecy?"

"There must be a guide to guide the revolutionaries to paradise, and..... that guide is the prosecutor who hears the voice of the sword."

"The voice of the sword, ……?"

Ania's face, which was slowly stammering at her voice, soon became paler. Her eyes reflectively swept through Van's waist dance. A revolution with irregular blades of different kinds, not found by the general examination.

The knives blossomed during that revolution were never the same in number, type, or type. And Van understood and expressed in an instant the movements that he could have, no matter what knife he was holding. Not only that, the dizzy examiners also said that it felt like all their swordsmanship was being read just a few times against half a knife.

The coincidences that I didn't care about became inevitable when I said a word. As Anya groaned.

"...... the Guardian of Sunwoo."