Chapter 315: The Transfer Student is a Singularity (3)

During the subspace duel, Leon suddenly asked me, “Did you… cut death?”

‘…I didn’t, did I?’

At my age, I’m pretty grounded. But that line, so worthy of a third-rate protagonist, left me dizzy for a moment—just as a light bulb flicked on in my mind.

“So that’s what happened?”

The arena remained as silent as a grave. In the sky, a bald eagle froze mid-descent.

Amidst that grayish, paused screen, I felt for a moment like the only living being in color.

Leon’s voice had echoed several times, so surely everyone had heard him. Regardless of what they thought of the past, those words had come from an aspiring hero, so they’d believe him without question.

‘Could that nickname be making a comeback…?’

Yeah, that one.

Death Sashimi.

I’ve had so many nicknames that this cheap one had been buried for years, but…

Now it felt pretty likely it was about to be resurrected.

Damn it. I’m twenty-seven and married. What’s the point of still calling me Death Sashimi?

Caw, caw.

Just then, the bald eagle—Eagle the 14th—cawed.

As if announcing the dark cloud looming over my mood.

The place was so quiet I ended up lost in thought, but anyway—

Thanks to the silence, Leon began to reflect on the cause of his sudden bout of late-teen melodrama.

‘He confused it with the Blessing of Physical Rewind.’

Then everything made sense.

From someone else’s point of view, it probably did look like I really cut death.

And if you analyze the principle behind it, it’s not entirely wrong.

When you wield a sword, there’s something you feel—a flow. A rhythm, maybe?

Like those chefs who slice ingredients in perfect rhythm on the cutting board.

I guess it’s something like that. After all, a sashimi knife is still a sword.

Sure, cutting food and cutting people aren’t the same—but when I wield a sword, I erase all emotion, and in the end, one resembles the other.

Anyway.

‘I got a little carried away.’

To be honest, without realizing it, I unleashed a slash that split the world.

The unfair part is that all my finishing attacks are like that—world-splitting slashes.

And with good reason, I’m called the God of the Sword.

If I don’t control my strength, this fragile world would be reduced to rags.

The swordsman’s drum, which I usually keep sealed, raised its head.

There weren’t even any evenly matched rivals, no heroes left to face me.

And suddenly, after so long, I found one. I got excited and lost control.

‘So I instinctively activated the Blessing of Physical Rewind and rewound time.’

Originally, that blessing wasn’t that powerful. At most, it could rewind a few seconds before and after an event.

And that was already powerful. But because the Blessing of the Sword God was so absurd, the Rewind blessing was also affected.

Once the Sword God blessing was completed, the Rewind one was automatically upgraded to a “divine” level.

Thanks to that, I could interfere even with the laws of the world, like I just did.

‘I’d never thought about cutting death itself.’

But it’s not like I couldn’t do it.

That spark of inspiration tickled the back of my brain.

I wanted to stick my fingers into my skull and scratch the folds of my brain.

This was supposed to be a class to teach the students something, but it looked like I was the one learning.

Which, well, also has its value.

I shook my head.

The world, until then frozen, began to move again.

The students in the stands exhaled the breath they’d been holding, and a sharp groan came from Leon’s mouth.

I switched my grip on both sashimi swords to reverse and looked at Leon.

‘He looks pale, but ironically, also brighter.’

He looked like he was about to collapse, yet he was still standing.

With a grateful smile, I said.

“Want to continue?”

“Of course.”

What a hero.

He was nearly killed—technically, he died and came back—but he already wanted to fight again.

Though from how much his knees were shaking, he wouldn’t last much longer.

‘I want to at least leave him with the feeling that he fought well, even if he lost.’

The hesitation lasted only a moment, and action followed instantly.

I bent my legs and gathered strength.

My vision blurred.

As expected, spiritual tears welled in my eyes.

Bang!

In a flash of light, my body surged forward.

***

Thus ended the duel in the subspace.

The battle, which seemed evenly matched, concluded with a single leap from the Celestial Sword. The outcome was obvious, but the content was always astonishing every time it was witnessed. Even Lee Woo-Bin, proud member of the TOP 100 Bald Men of the Year, thought so. What could the students possibly say?

With Leon’s sudden appearance, their blood rushed to their heads, and the impact of the duel was so overwhelming it defied description. In truth, they saw nothing.

Their eyes wide in shock, they blinked like sickly fish, each face seemingly expressing the same thing.

— You need to see something in order to learn!

Entirely understandable. This was the first and probably the last time they would see both of them draw their swords with such elegance. Even Lee Woo-Bin, using his blessing, managed to visually capture only up to the fifth exchange before losing the rhythm.

‘Rather than an educational spar, it felt more like a release of the Celestial Sword’s pent-up urges.’

The backs of his two disciples, walking away, looked lighter than ever. Lee Woo-Bin felt a bittersweet blend of joy and sorrow.

A helplessness for not being able to fulfill his role as a teacher.

“Senior.”

A clear voice called Lee Woo-Bin. Turning around, he saw Choi Seol-Ah already beside him.

“When did you arrive?”

“Just now.”

“More importantly, can a secretary of the director leave like that?”

“I do know what common sense is!”

Choi Seol-Ah got annoyed and pointed with her finger. Beyond her hand was an empty seat—the director had just gotten up and left.

And of course, it was Saki, the director, who had to give permission for Leon to enter the Academy.

‘You’ve grown a lot, Saki.’

The fact that she was the one to allow it made it even more significant. Her father, Kojima, had died in the Second Great Human-Demon War. The relationship between father and daughter had been disastrous—everyone at the Academy knew it, even if it was never said out loud. However, Kojima’s end was heroic.

He showed the greatest heroic spirit sacrifice. And with his body, he laid the foundation for what is now Joaquin Academy.

Perhaps that’s why Saki eventually forgave him. Maybe he was the worst father, but as a hero, he was worthy of respect. She had confessed as much to Lee Woo-Bin in the past.

‘The direct cause of Kojima’s death was none other than Leon van Reinhardt.’

And yet, Saki allowed that very Leon to enter the Academy. That means she even forgave that.

As her mentor, Lee Woo-Bin could say it proudly among all his students, Saki had the deepest heart—and in strength, her husband, Kang Geom-Ma.

Choi Seol-Ah glanced sideways at Lee Woo-Bin’s calm profile.

Then suddenly, she noticed the group of political heirs in the distance. As if on cue, they all looked pale as clay.

“Oh…”

What you learn at three stays with you for life. Choi Seol-Ah’s old villainous streak, forged in her youth, activated.

“Senior, senior.”

She nudged him and gestured toward the nobles.

“What?”

“They’ve been so intense lately that the director’s had a headache.”

“That’s just age. If they were adults, life would’ve already crushed that kind of arrogance. And they’re hero candidates for a reason. Their brains are different from those of ordinary citizens. This is a place to learn the value of facing death—Joaquin Academy.”

“In that case…”

Choi Seol-Ah smirked with a strange grin.

“It looks like Kang Geom-Ma… no, the Celestial Sword, completely shattered that courage.”

And it made sense. This Academy was for learning the courage to face death. But no one teaches you what to do after dying and returning. Not in this universe or any other.

Choi Seol-Ah looked at the third-year students with satisfied scorn. What a ridiculous attitude for someone calling themselves an instructor.

She thought of scolding them but instead just looked up at the sky.

There, high above, her gaze met that of a bald eagle soaring overhead.

“I trust the founding hero is watching over them.”

***

As expected, night in Gehenna’s subspace is dangerous. That’s when magical energy becomes far denser than during the day.

From a human perspective, already lethal toxins grow even more extreme.

Even heroes ranked Warrior or higher couldn’t roam Gehenna at night.

In fact, it could be said that, within humanity, only Kang Geom-Ma could do so.

However…

Step, step.

A figure walked through the gloom. Skin white as jade, black hair, dull black eyes. At a glance, she looked human.

A naked girl wandered aimlessly. Sometimes she followed a path, other times she made her own.

There was no defined direction. She walked wherever her consciousness guided her.

The black sun had already vanished completely. As the girl moved down a trail, the bushes ahead trembled.

Moments later, a group emerged from the forest shadows. Three in total.

All had long pointed ears and softly glowing eyes. They were high elves.

Having been brutally defeated by Kang Geom-Ma, they now staggered toward a dark forest.

“…What is that?”

One elf murmured in disbelief. A human wandering at night? And naked?

While the three elves stood baffled, the girl passed by them without reaction.

Being ignored by a human ignited a repressed rage on their faces. Already irritable from their earlier encounter, this was too much… a mere human disregarded them?

They didn’t know how she got there, but felt the need to take it out on someone.

“Human.”

One elf grabbed the girl’s shoulder. Then, with a crooked smile, she said.

“We’re in a bad mood. Maybe killing you will make us feel better. Come with us for a moment?”

The girl slowly turned around. The three elves’ shoulders trembled.

That’s when they noticed her eyes were completely black. Panic set in. She tilted her head.

“…?”

“What is that…?”

The elf felt sudden heat beneath her nose. She let go of the girl’s shoulder and touched her face.

Blue liquid. Blood.

She tried to look at the girl again—but it was too late.

Bang!!!

The decapitated body hit the ground. A pool of blue blood spread at the girl’s bare feet.

The remaining two elves went pale.

The girl’s dark gaze slowly dropped from the dead elf to the two retreating ones.

She spoke again.

“◻️ ◻️”

The other two met the same fate.

The girl stared at the three corpses. Then she took the clothes of the elf who had first grabbed her and put them on.

Since high elves were taller than humans, the sleeves and pants hung loosely.

She didn’t care. With the garments dragging on the ground like a brush, she kept walking.

Her goal was to find the man who had lived in her thoughts since birth.

A man with the same hair and eye color as hers.

***

That night, I had dinner with Ryozo. It was an odd-numbered day.

Before the actual meal began, I thanked her.

“Thank you, Ryozo.”

“Huh? What for?”

“For allowing Leon to come and go from the academy. At least, with you…”

“And you’re saying this after ten years?”

Ryozo shook her head calmly.

“You explained it enough already. It was just a difference in understanding. Leon was also manipulated by the second commander.”

“To save his father.”

It’s one thing to know that. Another to accept it.

I knew better than anyone the poor relationship between Ryozo and Kojima. But blood is blood. Just like his mother, the goddess Cynthia, who was never able to completely let go of him.

Leon, to save his father, had to kill another’s. That’s war. Victims carry those scars like tattoos for life.

“Speaking of fathers…”

Ryozo suddenly asked me,

“You said you had a father too, right?”

“I did. Though he was adoptive.”

“…Would it be selfish to want to know more?”

Ryozo put down her chopsticks silently and lowered her head slightly. She fidgeted with her fingers, looking at me with those sky-blue eyes. It was still hard for her to show consideration for others.

I smiled.

“Not at all. If anything, I should apologize for not telling you sooner.”

Ryozo stood up suddenly and rushed over to me. Pressing close to my side, she sharpened her ear and focused.

“Before that.”

She gave me a serious look.

“Does Abel know this?”

“You’re the first person I’ve told.”

Ryozo clenched her fists and nodded.

“I’m ready.”

I felt Ryozo’s warmth against my chest.

And I spoke the name of the man who had taken me in and raised me with familial warmth — the founding hero, Balor Joaquin.