### The Demon Lord of the Swordsmanship Family Chapter 21
Cries echo through the casino halls as people lose themselves to pleasures, staking their lives on buttons.
A place where people cry and laugh over a single card, and abandon their humanity for a chip.
A disgusting pit filled with desire and rampant madness.
This was an illegal casino.
” Wake him.”
Splash!
Splashing cold water revived the collapsed man, gasping for breath as he opened his eyes.
“K-Kim Manager, please save me! Spare me!”
“No time for this, let’s cut to the chase. Where’s the ‘Asura’s Demon Sword’?”
“T-That wasn’t my fault! Optimum took it away…”
Suddenly, the manager’s leather boot crushed the man’s finger.
“AAAHHHH!!”
“I said no time. Don’t waste it with useless chatter. Continue.”
Crackling, Kim lit a cigarette as the tormented man blurted out incoherently.
An unexpected change in auction scheduling. And a business trip to Busan for the man. He was confident the cursed sword would go unclaimed.
But, Kim Yeon-hee suddenly acted on impulse.
And the cause was Park Ki-hyuk.
“…Park Ki-hyuk? The youngest of the Sword Master family? Are you sure?”
“H-Hesitant! He asked for the Demon Sword, and Optimum’s witch gifted it to him. I heard this clearly from a Union employee. It…”
“Shut up.”
Kim cut him off.
“This is strange. Why would the young master of the Sword Master family covet a Demon Sword? Is there a purpose? Pure curiosity? Optimum isn’t like us to ‘experiment’ with it, or is there something else…”
In the silent underground room, the dripping of water echoed eerily.
Why? For what purpose?
As possibilities continued to arise, none of them were certain. Just mere fragments of speculation floated around.
“d*mn, this is such a mess.”
At this rate, the quota is precarious.
Kim, wrinkling his brow from a headache, stood up.
“Is the interrogation over?”
“It’s enough. A waste of time. This guy knows nothing. And since it’s Optimum involved, we can’t even involve the juniors. This situation is a real mess.”
“…”
“Let’s go eat. Clean up and meet me later.”
“Understood.”
“Ki-Kim Manager! Manager KIM!!”
A subordinate, drawing their blade, passed by Kim as he turned away.
The man’s fate was already determined. His screams faded as the doors closed behind them.
At that moment, one more possibility came to mind.
‘Could it be that the curse can be undone by…?’
Kim briefly contemplated this and smirked.
“There’s no way.”
The people of this world have a profoundly mistaken approach to curses.
“Curses, you see.”
They’re akin to scars. Deep wounds leave scars that are etched like marks for life.
However, on this Earth, they try to ‘reverse’ the curse’s scar before it even forms.
It’s not just restoration; they attempt to turn back time itself, in other words, ‘regression’.
An impossible feat for anyone who isn’t a god.
The first time I saw this, I felt utterly exasperated. To think they’re attempting to surpass the divine just to remove a mere curse—aren’t they mad?
Even now, it seems absurd.
Isn’t it contradictory that they can remove curses from humans but not from artifacts?
Of course, I acknowledge that it’s difficult to reverse curses on weapon-like entities because they lack minimal defense systems, thus making the curses permanent like inscriptions.
But, you lot. Shouldn’t you, as sorcerers, ponder over this instead of giving up? Don’t quit just because it seems impossible.
You declare it ‘polluted’ and give up, but to me, this is just plain laziness.
You simply try to flood it with mana without attempting to interpret the curse.
This is what leads you to such ridiculous actions.
Certainly, this flaw is a consequence of insufficient depth in your understanding of magic.
So, is it impossible to lift the curse? No. Then why did I even bother with the cursed sword?
Let me continue using the scar analogy.
Imagine you have an unsightly scar on your face. What do you do?
You’d definitely visit the hospital. After diagnosis, you’d undergo treatment.
What if that’s not possible, like with scars from burns?
Then you mask it using makeup, clothes, accessories, or even tattoos.
See how easy it is?
Of course, right? So, isn’t magic just the same?
It’s not necessary to employ such grand methods to lift curses when all it requires is to cover them up.
Whether it’s medication, surgery, or even tattoos, as long as you can cover the scar, the curse is effectively neutralized.
And just like that, a sword that’s been cursed becomes something more.
Sharper.
Keener.
Swish!
It emanates an even denser spirituality.
Wooohoooong!!
The blade howled in a crimson glow.
Having cut the Dire Wolf in half and soaked up its bl**d, the blade quivered, as if trembling with excitement. In response, the essence within me awakened and danced in synchrony.
“Such adorable creatures.”
Let loose.
Do as they wish.
My vision narrowed, and the inner Sword Master within me awakened.
My sagging muscles tensed as they cut down the charging Dire Wolf with ease.
Without a sound, the Dire Wolf died.
The blade continued without pause, swiftly and mercilessly slicing through Dire Wolves on the left, the right, and in front, one after another.
Massacre.
Slashing indiscriminately. Killing everything in sight.
I plunged my sword into the open mouth of the first creature that dared to bare its fangs, severed the head of another that sought to exploit a gap, and eventually claimed the lives of those fleeing with their tails between their legs.
The more corpses piled up, the more bl**d my sword drank.
The ‘instinct’ flowing through my veins began to stir.
“Grroooarr…”
Unbeknownst to me, the cry of instinct escaped from my lips.
This is you.
This is the Sword Master.
It was forcing the truth upon me—that it is ‘me’.
But then…
Uuuuung!!
With cries, appeared Baphomet on my right arm.
And on my left, newly transformed Asura.
From behind the ominous darkness, the two Great Demons opened their eyes.
Loyal servants of the Demon Lord, the two blocked the vicious nature of the Sword Master head-on.
The sticky, ominous black mist tightly grabbed the bl**d-red blade as though warning not to act out.
My strained muscles relaxed. The surging killing intent calmed down, and the boiling bl**d of the Sword Master in me turned cold as if drenched in icy water.
‘Don’t act out. This body is mine.’
‘Any further rampage will not be tolerated.’
The dignified voice of the Demon Lord’s power rang out.
But the bloodthirsty nature of the Sword Master holding the renowned sword would not yield so easily.
A crimson aura formed, its sharp teeth-like edges biting through the black mist with a crunch.
A grueling power struggle between the Demon Lord and the Sword Master.
Compared to this battle, the charging massive Dire Wolves were no different than children’s play.
The more these two energies surged, the more corpses accumulated. The earth turned red, and the forest was ravaged.
But it wasn’t over yet.
“What are you waiting for? Play with me.”
With my command.
Veins bulged. Muscles heaved and exhaled deeply.
The slumbering giant’s body awakened.
The famed ‘sword’ in the hands of the Sword Master.
The awakened ‘Asura’ of the Demon Lord.
The enhanced ‘giant’ through ‘evolution elixir’.
Finally, the power struggle of these three commenced.
Did my brother say he’d prepare the stage?
“Let’s see how far you can go.”
The permission was given.
Uncontrolled power surged.
The defoliation of the forest.
Even the desperate cries of the fleeing Dire Wolves.
Don’t complain.
Because the fight has just begun.
Smiling, I swung my sword.
“Wow… He’s beyond words.”
“He just said something.”
“…Jun-woo, you’re clueless, aren’t you? Should we interfere now?”
Scolding though she may be, Merhem’s eyes followed a certain man. The same went for Han Jun-woo, who, despite his trivial words, was completely focused on that man.
A being who was cutting through everything like a god of destruction.
No, more accurately, a monster rather than human.
We speak of Park Ki-hyuk.
“He was only asked to watch. Is this typical of Ki-hyuk?”
“….”
“To be honest, I’ve known. Ki-hyuk has been holding back for our sake. Therefore, I was curious. What does the unhidden, true form of Ki-hyuk look like?”
“Agreed.”
“But… I didn’t expect this extent.”
“Likewise, agreed.”
Merhem and Han Jun-woo.
People who stuck together except for sleep couldn’t have been unaware of Park Ki-hyuk’s strength.
Not only did he provoke them with punches from their first meeting, but he also threw a professor on the ground during an evaluation day.
He taught unheard-of skeleton magic, taught them incantations, and provided swordsmanship advice.
Currently, to them, Park Ki-hyuk was a friend, a comrade, and a mentor.
Still…
Even if they thought they knew.
Witnessing it firsthand was distinctly different.
He was trampling over Dire Wolves, known as particularly challenging monsters even in packs, with ease.
Almost pitifully.
“Should I ask you something, Jun-woo. If we get dragged into this, will we survive?”
“…I doubt it.”
“Same here. It frustrates me.”
The two thought about it.
The recent times when they proclaimed to be friends.
“Embarrassing. I called it a friendship while claiming we could go together, and now, what are we? Together’? We’d just be anchors.”
“…”
“Even more embarrassing, do you know what?”
“What?”
The painful confession Merhem made after her trembling lips spoke.
“I’m scared.”
“…”
“To be honest, I’m scared. I know it’s Ki-hyuk there. I know he wouldn’t harm me. But my hands are shaking. Look, they won’t stop.”
“…”
“Jun-woo, you are too, right?”
That’s right.
Han Jun-woo’s hands were trembling as well. Biting his teeth, he desperately tried to calm down, but the monstrous power displayed before him was the kind that could terrify any human, anyone who breathed on this land.
“We have to admit. Neither of us can become his friend in this state.”
“…I admit it. We need to work harder.”
Merhem fidgeted with the flower pinned in her hair as she spoke.
“I’ve never been the one receiving help. I’ve only been the one offering it.”
Han Jun-woo also, placing his hand on the gifted sword, said,
“Me too.”
Just today.
Today, they would be astonished.
Starting tomorrow, they would shout without hesitation.
“Wait and see. I’ve never broken any promise I’ve made.”
“Agreed.”
Today, more than ever, the word ‘friend’ weighed heavily on these two.
*
A few days later, after finishing class as usual, I headed toward the club room, our usual hideout.
The doors, weighing a combined 400 kilograms due to the distributor’s error—each side weighing 200 kg—we called the ‘Gates of Hell,’ were effortlessly opened as I entered.
The scene that greeted me:
“Huff!”
Han Jun-woo, practicing with precise, rhythmic sword strikes.
“Wait! Wait…”
While hiding behind her shield and waiting for an opportunity amidst her frantic strikes was Mary.
“Hoo~”
Jun-woo may be a practice enthusiast, but what’s up with Mary?
I pulled a coffee from the machine and sat at the sparring court’s front.
The advantage clearly favors Han Jun-woo.
Agility, reflexes, comprehension of swordsmanship, and the power of a dancer. If we consider all these together, Mary doesn’t stand a chance against Jun-woo.
Actually, this applies not just to Mary. I mentioned this before, but there’s no one in the freshmen year who can rival Jun-woo in a one-on-one match.
The leaders Jin Yu-ri and Henry might be the closest to matching him.
And me? I’m out of the equation. I can’t get involved in such trivial matters, can I?
While immersed in idle thoughts, Mary seized a counter-attack opportunity. Equipped with all kinds of spells, she swung down her mace with full force.
A clean blow. But Jun-woo is Jun-woo.
He gracefully dodged as if it were the flow of water.
Suddenly, from Mary’s mouth, a thick scream: “Grrk!”
Her mace, in mid-air, got deflected halfway sideways.
“Hyah!”
Big.
The ‘n’-shaped redirected attack.
It might look simple, but this is no small feat.
Are heavy weapons heavy for nothing? Each blow weighs like a mountain, hence they’re considered heavy weapons. Because of that, they usually lack agility and versatility. But redirecting the mace with such precision without any wasted movement?
That alone can give headaches to the opponent.
“Krk!”
Look. Already she’s managed to land a hit.
Blocking with both sides of the sword, but the mace, with all its momentum, easily shattered the defense and collided into Jun-woo’s ribs.
And here’s another advantage of heavy weapons.
Once you gain an advantage, grabbing hold gives an easy chance to continue pressing the attack.
“Dieeee!!”
Kung! Kung!! Kung!!!
Mary exploded with all her stored power.
Water, trees, earth—spells burst forth from all directions, emitting magnificent colors. And in turn, Han Jun-woo, his eyes wide with intensity, charged forward into “serious mode.”
Two people giving it their all as if they absolutely cannot step back.
It was dazzling.
The shining talents, the gleaming eyes, the indomitable willpower—more brilliant than any sunrise.
“I can’t lose either.”
I should set an example for these cute friends, shouldn’t I?
With that, I stopped watching and grabbed the barbell set up at one side of the clubroom.
“Let’s start with a light 300.”
And thus, as everyone perspired for their own reasons, time flowed.
Finally, the anticipated midterm exams approached us.
