Sword Idiot

Leon had never been the type to enjoy fighting.

The sense of accomplishment that came with growth, and the thrill of victory, were certainly nice, but...

After all, to him, a sword was nothing more than a means of getting through the grueling business of surviving.

He didn't dream of spending his whole life devoted only to swordsmanship, treating his sword like a lover, regretting a realm he'd never reached at the moment of death, or reincarnating as a TS pretty girl and becoming a sword saint.

Only once he had freedom and survival firmly secured could he worry about whether to romanticize the sword.

That was Leon.

For once, he readily accepted Aslan's offer to spar. There wasn't any grand purpose behind it.

'Let's blow off some steam.'

For the past few weeks, he'd been clumsily working an unfamiliar pen and forcing out creative pain, and it had left him dizzy.

He wanted to swing a sword without thinking about anything. If he didn't work off this stress, he felt like his body might start twitching...