✦ Chapter 32 – Xiang Yu (3) ✦
「Translator – Creator」
𒋝𒋝𒋝𒋝𒋝
“Phantom…”
Maya muttered the name of the famed writer as her eyes widened with realization.
‘I thought he was just another insignificant person, but I was mistaken.’
She had come to the capital, intrigued by the news of another Hero candidate emerging in the same generation. And when she’d heard about the wildly popular play, <Farewell My Concubine>, she’d naturally sought it out.
And through this process, Maya had an epiphany.
Phantom, the Hero of the Pen candidate…
You understood, didn’t you?
The only thing that matters in this world… is power. It’s the overwhelming strength that allows one to dominate others.
“………..….”
She sat in deep meditation, her eyes closed, her mind still.
She was well aware of the fervor <Farewell My Concubine> had sparked in the capital.
She’d even heard rumors that young knights and mages were obsessively trying to replicate the martial arts techniques from the play, attempting to manipulate mana like ‘qi’ and create a new profession— the ‘Mana Swordsman.’
“Fools.”
The ‘qi’ displayed by Xiang Yu, the Hegemon-King of Western Chu, had nothing to do with mana.
Maya, having seen <Farewell My Concubine>, had instinctively embarked on a rigorous training regimen, spending days replaying the play’s depiction of ‘cultivating qi’ in her mind, focusing her entire being on her dantian— the qi center located below her navel.
Although she was part elf, Maya had been born and raised in human society—an orphan wandering a world that didn’t quite accept her.
She wasn’t sure if the portrayal of elves in <Farewell My Concubine> was accurate.
As it was just a fictional creation, it was also different in many ways from the teachings of the elf master who once trained her.
“……….….”
But as a Hero candidate who’d spent her entire life honing her swordsmanship, she’d come to a profound realization.
The ‘qi’ depicted in <Farewell My Concubine>… it wasn’t ordinary mana. It was something else… something akin to… the uncoiling of life force itself, accumulated and refined within the body.
And perhaps…
She, Maya, a prodigy of swordsmanship, might be able to replicate it.
As it turned out, her instincts were right.
10 minutes, 30 minutes, 1 hour, 3 hours, 6 hours…
Time blurred as Maya pushed herself to her limits, exploring uncharted territory.
A power she’d never felt before surged within her, coiling and uncoiling, flowing through her meridians, rising upwards.
And then, as all that energy converged at a single point…
KOOOOM—!!
A formidable aura traveled along the blade of Maya’s treasured sword, ‘Eternal Snow (萬年雪).’
While it wasn’t exactly like Xiang Yu’s Samadhi True Fire, the underlying principle was the same.
It was proof that her long-standing stagnation in skill had finally elevated by one level.
Maya observed quietly, lifting her sword to aim at a massive, grotesque rock formation in front of her.
And then…
SLASH—!!
RUMBLE!
In the blink of an eye, the boulder was cleaved in two, crumbling into dust; the boulder, which would’ve chipped even a steel sword, had been sliced in two like a soft cabbage.
“……….…”
Chirp—!
Chirp—!
Chirp—!
The sky in the east had begun to lighten with the first hints of dawn.
Maya sheathed her sword and turned towards the road, heading back to the capital — towards the dense, dark forest that lay just beyond the city walls.
It was a momentous occasion — the birth of the world’s first Sword Aura wielder, inspired by <Farewell My Concubine>.
✧❅✦❅✧
The Darkwood, a vast forest located near the capital of the Holy Empire, was home to a shadowy cartel — a secret organization formed by criminals and outcasts, not unlike the Greenwood gangs of wuxia stories.
The Darkwood had always been notorious for its dense forests and treacherous terrain.
It was the perfect hideout for criminals on the run and those who relished violence and mayhem.
Over time, these outcasts had banded together, growing in strength and influence, until they’d become a formidable criminal organization — one that even the Empire struggled to control.
Hiding within the depths of the forest, they were difficult to root out. And with their vast wealth, they could hire the most skilled mercenaries, acquire exotic weapons from distant lands, and even smuggle in dangerous monsters to bolster their forces.
In reality, they could be compared to the infamous Mexican drug cartel, ‘Los Zetas,’ that once controlled Mexico.
…But this fearsome organization was currently being dismantled… by a single swordsman.
“GAAAH!”
“R-Run!”
“Damn it! Where the hell did that monster come from?!”
Slice! Slash! Shing—!!
Blades flashed, drawing arcs of deadly light.
Fountains of blood erupted, staining the ground crimson.
At the center of this carnage stood a lone half-elf, her sword gleaming like ice.
Crack! Yelp!
Screech!?
The skulls of unleashed war hounds and hyenas — creatures supposedly immune to ordinary weapons — were shattered with devastating ease.
The cartel leaders, panicking as their trusted biological weapons were neutralized, urged their men forward.
“What are you waiting for?! It’s just one person!”
“Kill her! Overwhelm her! Have you forgotten who we are?!”
“We have the numbers! Surround her and attack!”
But sadly for them, numerical superiority meant nothing.
The half-elf, having awakened her true potential, moved with unimaginable speed…
SHING—!!
“What?!”
“S-s-steel… like paper?!”
…And her sword, enhanced with powerful Aura, sliced through the cartel members’ weapons and armor as if they were made of tofu.
With all their weapons destroyed and their monsters slain…
“W-wait! Wait a minute, aaagh—!!”
“S-spare me…!”
…The cartel members were helpless against Maya, whose swordsmanship was simply unmatched. Their annihilation was inevitable.
“Gah… d-damn it! Who are you?! What have we done to you?!”
The burly cartel boss, his men slaughtered around him, shouted in defiance, blood pouring from his wounds.
Maya, the Hero of the Sword candidate, approached him, her steps calm and measured, her sword dripping crimson.
“Does it hurt?”
“Damn you! Of course it hurts! You crazy bitch, aaagh—!!”
Slice—!
“I see… so you do feel pain.”
A flash of blue light, and the boss’s fingers flew through the air, severed cleanly at the knuckles.
“…My parents were killed by members of your cartel.”
Maya’s voice was cold, devoid of emotion, as she watched the cartel boss clutching his mutilated hand and foot, blood spurting from his wounds.
“Right in front of me, when I was just a child. They were… brutal.”
“W-what? B-but I… I never…!”
“They kidnapped me, a half-elf, and tried to sell me in the foreign slave market. But when my parents found out, they were killed for resisting.”
Although it happened over 15 years ago, the trauma of that day still lingered, never forgotten.
If not for the helping hand that arrived in time, Maya would have either died or been sold into slavery.
An unnamed elf swordsman — who would later become her mentor — had stumbled upon the scene and intervened, saving her life.
But while her body had been spared, something within her had… broken.
The emotions a living being should feel… vanished.
She became numb to external stimuli, to the world around her.
And the broken gears within her, spinning aimlessly, had implanted a deep, unshakeable obsession within her.
A craving for power.
A maniacal conviction that only strength — overwhelming, unstoppable strength — could protect her from further loss.
“Just wait! I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I never ordered anything like that! It must’ve been some rogue members acting on their own! I’ll apologize, I’ll do anything! Just please, spare my life…!”
Stab—!
“AAAAAGGGHHHH—!!”
“You didn’t spare my mother.”
Stab—! Slash—!
“Gah… uuughhh…!!”
“You laughed as you trampled over my dying father.”
Crack! Thud! SPLAT—!!
“So why… why should I spare you? Hmm?”
There was no answer.
The cartel boss, writhing in agony, was now nothing more than meat on a butcher’s block.
But even after reducing the cartel boss to a pulpy mess, Maya couldn’t stop. She continued to hack and slash at the corpse, driven by something more than just vengeance.
“….….”
Finally, when nothing but shredded flesh and bone remained, Maya stopped, staring at her blood-soaked hands in silence.
She had faced bandits and ruffians countless times during her wandering.
As a Hero candidate, she’d fought countless monsters and brought wicked men to justice.
…However, never before had she committed such a massive and ruthless slaughter as today.
And her hands, usually so steady, were trembling.
She hadn’t yet acknowledged it, but the thrill of bloodshed, the sadistic pleasure of carving through living flesh… it had awakened something dark and primal within her.
Suddenly, she remembered an encounter from her travels — an unsettling prophecy delivered by a creepy old witch.
⌠Kiihii, such a pitiful child you are. Born under the shadow of an ill-fated elf mother from the East. Marked by a sinister aura that brings about a storm of blood. A sharp blade, indeed.⌡
An aura that brings about a storm of blood?
Me, a chosen candidate to eliminate the evil in this world.
— End of Chapter —
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