Chapter 9
Though his words were a little rough, the old man secretly hoped things would work out between them.
For a man of his age, shouldn't he have helped rather than interfered with the fledgling romance of two youngsters?
The old man gazed at the two of them.
They blushed and awkwardly avoided each other's gaze, yet held each other's hands as though cherishing them.
Whatever had happened overnight, it seemed they had made considerable progress.
“···Damn it.”
He hadn't wanted things to go this well. The old man spat out a colorful curse.
***
A week passed.
In that short time, Ivan's movements had changed dramatically.
Before, he had relied on instinct to wield his superior physical abilities; now, he seemed to have fully mastered the art of controlling his body.
The old man was once again astonished by his rate of growth, but a question occurred to him.
“Come to think of it, why don't you use a sword? You don't happen to think fighting bare-handed is cool or anything, do you?”
“It's not that, but swords break far too easily, so they're hard to use. If I ask a friend, they'll get me another one, but I feel bad about breaking them as freely as I please.”
“Hmm, good swords are certainly hard to come by. Then give this a swing.”
When the old man tossed him the sword he had been carrying on his back, Ivan caught it without difficulty.
The hilt bore the marks of age, while the reddish blade swept in a smooth curve without a single damaged spot.
It was a masterwork, recognizable at a glance even to someone who knew nothing about swords.
Ivan gripped the sword with both hands and slashed downward. The sound of it cleaving the air rang out with a chill.
“···Oh.”
When Ivan stared at the sword, entranced, the old man said indifferently,
“Why are you staring at it so intently? Bring it back.”
“Wasn't that for me?”
“Bullshit. Do you know how valuable that is? You couldn't get one like it even if you had the money.”
“Then why did you lend it to me? It's not like you were just messing with me.”
“I was, though.”
“······.”
Of course. What a stingy old bastard. Ivan handed the sword back, deeply disappointed.
“And who swings a sword like that? You're not a monkey.”
“I've never properly learned how to use one. Isn't this pretty impressive under the circumstances?”
“Impressive, my ass. Watch closely and see how I do it.”
The old man took the sword and swung it exactly three times.
He chopped down from above, slashed from left to right, then thrust it straight ahead.
They were the simplest of movements, yet they were everything. Their depth was impossible to fathom at a glance.
“You saw that clearly, right? Then swing it again.”
An ordinary person might spend years or even a lifetime without grasping so much as a fragment of that realization.
But Ivan was different.
On his first swing, form took root; on the second, he awakened to technique; and on the third, he fully embodied the teaching.
He read the flow with his eyes, grasped it through instinct, and reproduced it with a perfect body. It was truly overwhelming talent.
Ivan looked proudly at his master.
“It's not as impressive as I expected.”
“Why, you little— I spoon-fed it straight into your mouth, and now you think you're something special. Who'd want to be a master under these conditions? Get into your stance.”
The old man drew another sword he had prepared and walked over. It wasn't as fine as the one in Ivan's hand, but it was still a formidable masterwork.
Ivan felt an ominous premonition.
“This isn't what I think it is···right?”
“Of course it is. You've more or less learned the techniques, so now I need to hammer them into your body. Go on, dodge if you can.”
“No, fuck···.”
Before he could finish swearing, a razor-sharp blade came hurtling at him.
Ivan panicked and barely knocked the blade aside.
“Oh? You blocked it?”
“Take it easy! I'm seriously going to die here!”
“Training has to be tough to work. If you die, well, nothing can be done.”
Ivan screamed, but the old man didn't even pretend to hear him. The sword fight continued until sunset.
After feeling the terror of death all day, Ivan returned home nearly exhausted.
‘Damn old man···.’
“You're back. You look a little worn out today?”
When he returned home, Elena greeted him warmly. His fatigue vanished at once.
“Tired? What are you talking about? Nothing happened.”
“You've got blood on you. Hold on···.”
The small wounds had healed long ago, but the bloodstains remained.
Elena approached, stuck out her tongue, and licked the bloodstain.
Ivan, who had never even imagined this sort of contact, leaped back in shock.
“Wh-what?!”
“It'd be a waste. To a shaman, your blood is practically a precious elixir.”
“Ah···I thought it was something else. Then should I draw some blood and give you some while I'm at it?”
Elena sternly refused.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Why? It's nothing. It doesn't even hurt that much.”
“I don't want to injure your body over something like that. This is enough as it is.”
It was an even more satisfying answer than he could have imagined. The corners of Ivan's mouth loosened into a goofy grin.
“Is the old man sleeping outside again tonight?”
“Well, he always does.”
Though normally eccentric beyond belief, the old man was surprisingly considerate at times like this.
It was one of the few moments when Ivan felt grateful to his master.
“Then let's go to bed. I'm tired.”
“Should we?”
The two lay down on the bed and naturally fell into each other's arms.
They had blushed at first, but after repeating it several times, they had grown accustomed to it surprisingly quickly.
That didn't mean they were unaffected. Elena could feel Ivan's heart pounding rapidly.
“···Pervert.”
“This is a physiological response. Your heart's beating, too.”
“Mine's because of spiritual stimulation. It's different from yours.”
Ivan wore a sly smile.
“Really? Are you sure?”
“I don't know···don't say that···.”
Elena lowered her head and burrowed into Ivan's arms. Ivan chuckled and pretended to give in.
Entwined like a single body and sharing their warmth, the two quickly fell asleep.
As the cool moonlight fell across them, Elena sensed a change.
The astonishing spiritual growth she had achieved over the past few days finally crossed a critical threshold.
Like a dam bursting at its limit, an explosive outpouring took place. The restraint carved into her soul—the hateful leash—came undone.
“Ah.”
A heated breath escaped her. A feeling of complete liberation filled her mind.
Elena felt herself finally becoming free of everything that had bound her.
At first, she'd thought it was merely a gamble worth taking···but it really had worked.
Once her emotions had settled a little, Elena gazed intently at Ivan, who was sleeping soundly, oblivious to the world.
She had no intention of leaving any lingering attachment behind.
Their relationship hadn't begun from pure goodwill, and they'd only spent a little over a week together.
She'd already been away from her post long enough. She couldn't risk anything more for personal feelings.
Elena carefully unwound her arms and legs from around him and rose to her feet.
Then she whispered softly into Ivan's ear as he slept.
“···Still, I had fun. I mean it.”
She didn't say anything more. If she did, she might not be able to leave.
Just as Elena was about to quietly open the door and leave, a voice came from behind her.
“Are you leaving?”
“···How long have you been awake?”
“Since just before you whispered into my ear.”
In other words, he'd been awake practically from the very beginning. Elena felt embarrassed, but did not let it show.
“Then are you going to stop me from leaving?”
“No.”
For some reason, Elena felt hurt rather than relieved by that answer.
Perhaps she had secretly hoped he would hold her back and ask her not to go.
“Are you really all right with me leaving?”
Hearing the slight tearfulness in her voice, Ivan answered calmly.
“You have something you need to do, don't you?”
“···That's right.”
“Then I should let you go. I can't decide your life for you. But let me ask you one thing.”
Elena silently nodded.
Ivan hesitated for a moment, then exhaled deeply as if making a momentous decision.
“Will I be able to see you again someday?”
Elena stood there blankly for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle.
He looked far too innocent for a warrior capable of beating even a giant to death with his bare fists. She liked that.
“Come here. I'll whisper the answer in your ear.”
Ivan approached and bent down to meet her at eye level.
Elena clasped Ivan's neck with her slender hands and rose onto her tiptoes.
Then she awkwardly kissed him.
“Is that answer enough?”
When Ivan froze, completely unable to react, Elena extended a finger and lifted the corners of his mouth.
“Then, goodbye.”
Ivan stared for a long while at Elena's departing figure beyond the open door.
“Good grief, what could she possibly like about a guy like that? Lucky bastard, anyway.”
“······!!”
When the old man suddenly barged in, Ivan was startled out of his wits.
“Master, how did you get here···?”
“Don't you know that old people develop unnecessarily sharp ears at night? Live another fifty years and you'll understand.”
“···How much did you hear?”
“Since you started putting on that pathetic show of bravado. I nearly threw up, but barely managed to hold it in.”
The rare serious mood was shattered. Ivan felt all the strength drain out of him and sank down where he stood.
Still, a lighthearted mood like this wasn't so bad. They could meet again someday, couldn't they?
“Why are you suddenly grinning like an idiot? Have you lost your mind?”
Ivan let the old man's nonsense pass in one ear and out the other, smiling contentedly.