The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master — Chapter 367: The Figure in the Shadows

Chapter 367: The Figure in the Shadows

The‍ Figure i

Oscar⁠ gripped his greatsword‌‌ tightly.

Clang.‍

He‍ tossed away the⁠⁠ hilt and clung to only the‌ blade—the part still usable for combat.‍

“Haah,⁠ haah.”

Oh.‌

Perhaps‌ from the strain,‌ he dropped the⁠ edge for a moment before lifting⁠⁠ it again. A drop of blood‍ dangled dangerously from⁠ the tip.

Inside,⁠‍‍ I let out⁠ an exclamation. Until‍‌ now, I’d only thought of him‌‍ as a soldier serving the regime.

“…Huu.”⁠

Oscar’s‌⁠ chest heaved as‌‌ he tensed, casting‍ me a fierce‌⁠ glare just as⁠⁠‍ I had stabilized‌‍ my breathing.

The subspace barrier had⁠ already dissipated. Oscar‍⁠ was completely exposed.⁠‍ Whether he realized‌‌ it or not,‍ his subordinates reached‍‍‍ out desperately, screaming:⁠‌

“Captain!‌‍ That’s enough!”

“Silence,‌⁠‍ all of you!”⁠

The⁠ shrill metallic clang‍ echoed.

The⁠⁠ guards lying on‌‌ the ground simply‍ clenched their lips. Once things settled,‌‍ Oscar licked his‌‌ chapped lips.

At‍ first glance, he‌ didn’t appear seriously⁠ wounded. In fact,‌ he was intact—of‍ course, he had‍⁠ just emerged from⁠⁠ the subspace.

But⁠⁠⁠ mentally, Oscar was exhausted.

The end of subspace⁠⁠‌ meant any attack now could kill him.

And still, he didn’t‌‍ back down.

To⁠⁠‍ be honest, the‍⁠‌ determination Oscar had⁠ desperately gathered stirred no emotion in⁠ me.

My‍ soul was too‌‍ worn to be‍⁠‍ moved by something‌ so trivial.

Not‌ just from age—but⁠ as a person.⁠‍

‘Damn.’⁠⁠⁠

Memories‍ of my childhood suddenly surfaced. That⁠‌ past, where all‍⁠⁠ I did was⁠ swing a sword,⁠ having pawned off⁠ my humanity.

For‍ some reason, I feared I was⁠‍ reverting to that⁠‍ former self.

Thump,‍ thump.

My‍‍‌ heart pounded hard.‍

Because,‍ unlike in subspace,‍‌‌ I could smell⁠ blood in real‍‌ space.

Swish.‍

Oscar‌ pointed the blade⁠‍‍ directly at Kang‍‍ Geom-Ma. Then, he‌⁠ began spinning on‌ himself, propelling sideways⁠‍‍ with strong steps.⁠

Fwoosh!⁠‍

He‌⁠ spun rapidly inward.‍ Afterimages multiplied counterclockwise,⁠ like a gradient‍ of aligned clones.‌

He‍ seemed to be⁠ aiming for a blind spot. His‍ gaze, calculating the‍ attack’s trajectory, was‍‍ sharp.

Even‌ the speed of‍ his footwork was‍⁠‍ decent. His “warrior-class”‌ title wasn’t unearned.‍

“Wow…”⁠⁠

Victoria‌ opened her mouth⁠ in awe. As‌‌ she rarely paid⁠‍ much attention to‍ the Royal Guard,‍ she didn’t know⁠‍ exactly how strong‌‌ Oscar was.

She had only thought,⁠‍ “He must be‍⁠ strong.”

‘Now!’

Oscar’s‌ blade gleamed. The‍ strike, precisely aimed,⁠⁠‍ barely grazed beneath‍‍‍ Kang Geom-Ma’s ear.‌‌‍

Kang Geom-Ma slightly turned his head and‍ then leapt ten‌‌ steps back with‌⁠⁠ a single impulse.‍

Oscar,⁠‌ hidden again among⁠ afterimages, kept multiplying⁠ them.

They‍‍‌ slowly began to‍‍ close in on‍⁠ Kang Geom-Ma, like⁠⁠‍ they were tightening‍⁠ a noose.

“With‍‌ all due respect,⁠⁠‍ Your Highness, may‍⁠ I ask a question?”

Shail‍ placed a hand⁠ over her heart⁠‌ and bowed. At‍‍‍ the formality, Victoria‌‍‌ scratched her cheek⁠‌ awkwardly.

“Yes,‍ well…”

“Thank‍ you.”

Shail‍ turned her gaze‍ to the battlefield.‍‌‍

“There’s⁠ a saying: ‘It’s⁠‍⁠ darkest under the‌⁠ lamp.’ Your Highness‌‌ may not know,‍ but Royal Guard Captain Oscar is⁠ among the strongest‍ of the warrior-class‍‌⁠ heroes. It’s said‍‌⁠ the only ones‍ comparable are All‍‌‌ Mute from the‍‍‌ Lancelot Company or‌ Mao Lang from‌ Iron Horn. Lately,‌ rumors suggest there‍ will soon be‌⁠ a selection to‌ fill the vacancies‍ among the Seven‍ Star Heroes.”

When‌‌ reporters asked President‌⁠ Sung Yuchang of⁠⁠ the Hero Association,‌ he kept silent.⁠‍‍ That silence made it clear it‍⁠‍ wasn’t baseless. The⁠‍ world began to‍‍ speculate who the⁠‌‌ next Seven Stars⁠ would be—and how‍‌ many in total.‍‌

In⁠‍‌ the end, collective internet debate led⁠‌ to a conclusion:‌‍‌

“That‍‍ the most likely‍‌‌ successors to the‌‍ Sword Master’s Seven‌ Stars seat are⁠⁠⁠ those two.”

“Exactly.‍ There are others, but those two‍ are top of‌ mind. Do you‌ see my point,‍⁠ Your Highness?”

Victoria‌‌‍ nodded.

“You’re‌‍‌ saying the benchmark‌ is Captain Oscar,‍⁠ not All Mute‍ or Mao Lang.”‍⁠

“Very‌ perceptive.”

“…I‌ have a question.”‍

Just‌‍‌ then, Oscar launched⁠ his sword again.‌

Clang!‌

Kang‍ Geom-Ma deflected it‍ effortlessly, and Oscar,‌ without hesitation, caught the returning blade‍⁠ and attacked again.‌‍

The‍ sashimi blade and‌ Oscar’s clashed.

Oscar‍⁠ tried a headbutt,⁠ but Kang Geom-Ma‌‌ casually turned and struck his forehead‌⁠ with an elbow.⁠⁠

Oscar’s‍ nose began to bleed. Bent like‌⁠ a bow, he⁠‌ tightened his core⁠‍ to stay balanced.‌

With‌‍ immense focus, he⁠⁠ held onto the⁠ thread of the‍‍ battle.

Though‍⁠ his form looked‍‍‍ somewhat pathetic, it‌‍ was unclear why⁠⁠⁠ he was trying‍‌ so hard. Choi⁠‍‌ Seol-Ah frowned, murmuring:‌

“Why‍‌‍ doesn’t the lord‌⁠‌ just kill him‌‍ already?”

Kang⁠‌ Geom-Ma responded to⁠‍⁠ every attack, yet‌ for some reason,‍⁠⁠ he didn’t counter.‌⁠

He‍‌ just stood there,‍ deflecting blows from‍‍ all angles.

Victoria⁠‌‍ sympathized with Choi‌⁠ Seol-Ah’s complaint, but⁠‍ she answered Shail⁠‌‌ first.

“From‌‌‌ what I understand,⁠ All Mute is‍‌ stronger than Oscar.”‍

“That’s‌‍⁠ correct.”

“Then⁠ shouldn’t All Mute⁠ be the standard⁠ rather than Oscar?”⁠

“An‌ excellent question.”

Shail⁠ smiled with narrowed‍‌ eyes.

“But,‍ Your Highness, if⁠ the bar is set too high,⁠ no one can‌ reach it. As⁠⁠⁠ you may know,‌⁠ before Heavenly Sword‍‍⁠ reformed the system ten years ago, the Seven Star‍⁠‍ Heroes remained at just four for‍‍ decades. Do you‍⁠ know why?”

“Heavenly‍ Sword…”

Back‌⁠ then, demons fully‍ played their part.⁠ So the standards⁠‍ were strict, embodied‌‌ by Heavenly Sword‍‌ himself. Shail explained:⁠

“If the bar is⁠ too high, no⁠ one even gets considered.”

“I⁠‌ see.”

“Truthfully,‌ though I’m labeled‍‌ warrior-class, I think‌‌‍ placing me on‌ the same level⁠⁠ as Oscar is‌ a mistake. To‍⁠ be blunt, I’m probably only at⁠ the level of⁠‌‌ his solar plexus.⁠‍ With my skills,‍ I couldn’t land‍ even a single‍‌‍ effective blow on Lord Kang Geom-Ma.‌‍‍ Oscar, at least,‌‍ is trying to⁠ find an opening.⁠⁠‌ Even if it⁠ means emptying himself‌⁠ completely.”

Shail’s‌⁠ words made Victoria‍‌⁠ narrow her eyes‍‌ slightly.

“Quite‌‍ the generous assessment‌ for someone who’s‌ not exactly friendly‌‌ with us. It’s⁠⁠ fine to be‍ strict with yourself‍ and others, but⁠‌‍ to some ears, it might sound‍ like you’re praising‍‌ Oscar.”

“Praise, you say…?”

Shail⁠‍⁠ tilted her head⁠ slightly, repeating the‌⁠ word.

“‘He’s⁠‍ giving everything he’s⁠ got just to‍‍ find an opening’—is⁠‌ that really praise?”

At‍‍⁠ that moment—

BOOOOOOM!‍⁠⁠

A deafening explosion rang‍ out. Spectators’ hair⁠ blew wildly.

Dust‌ blanketed what had⁠⁠ just been a fierce battlefield.

Even‍‌ the alert Royal⁠‍‌ Guard members looked‌ confused.

When⁠‍‌ the dust cleared,⁠⁠‍ a desolate scene‌ emerged. One wall‍ had caved in at least three‍‍‌ meters.

At‌ the center, Oscar‌‌ was embedded—like someone‍ publicly executed.

His‌ joints bent in‌‍‍ strange directions, like‍ a tangled puppet.‌ The sashimi blade⁠ stuck out all⁠‍⁠ over him, reinforcing⁠‌ the image.

It‌ wasn’t clear if⁠‌ he was dead.‍‌‍ But even if‍ alive, he would‌ at least end‌‍ up a cripple.‌‍

The⁠ most shocking part was Kang Geom-Ma.⁠‍ His hair had⁠‍ turned slightly white.‍‌

But‌‌ then, as if‍ black ink were‍ being poured over⁠‍ it, the color gradually returned to normal.

Victoria⁠ trembled. But Shail‌‌‌ and Choi Seol-Ah‌ barely flinched.

“Looks‌‌ like he got⁠⁠ irritated.”

“Seems‍⁠ that way.”

Shail,‌‍ agreeing, spoke to Victoria.

“Do‌‌ you understand now?”‍

Gulp.‌

Victoria⁠ swallowed dryly.

“Even⁠‌⁠ if it personally‍ bothers me… to‍⁠ ease public unease, we need to⁠‍ fill the positions‌ now.”

Fill⁠ the Seven Stars—with‌‌‌ heroes at least‍ on All Mute’s‌ level.

***‌⁠

That‌‍ night, after the⁠‌ chaos.

Since⁠⁠‍ I was returning‍⁠ to the country‌ first thing the next morning, the⁠ emperor invited me⁠ to dinner.

At‌‍ sunset, Garyeon came⁠‍ to get me‌‌ and knocked on‍‍ the door to‍⁠ guide me.

I was in the⁠‍ middle of a nap. After turning⁠‍ Oscar into mush,‌‌ my head was⁠‍ still a mess,‌‌ so I opened‍ the door half‍‌⁠ asleep.

“Heavenly‍ Sword, sir. I ask that you⁠⁠ accompany me to‍ a palace ceremony.”‌‍⁠

“As long as it’s‌ not something complicated.”

“I⁠‍ only ask one‍ thing during the‍‍ walk. Don’t say‍ a single word. That’s all.”

A strange request.

Upon‌ agreeing, Garyeon began‍ to guide me.⁠‌ Along the way,⁠ I kept watching⁠ my surroundings.

Garyeon’s⁠‌⁠ demeanor, walking ahead‍‍ of me, was‍⁠ very different from‌ the clumsy air⁠⁠ she had shown‍‌ before.

‘What‍‍ is this…?’

I would soon have‌ an audience with‍⁠‍ the emperor.

Kang Geom-Ma ✪ Garyeon⁠

I suspected they had‍‌ replaced the phrase‌ “former official” with‌‍ “palace officer ✪ emperor” for that‌ reason.

But,‌‍ to be direct,‍‍ I was completely⁠⁠‍ wrong. The reason Garyeon, who used‍ to be so‌ noisy, turned quiet⁠ was not because‌‌ she was going‍ to see the‍‌ emperor. It was‍ because of where I was going to meet him.‌

The imperial palace had⁠ a very high‍ density of buildings.‌‌ The land wasn’t especially large in⁠ proportion to its⁠⁠ scale.

And‌ yet, a small‍⁠‍ forest appeared. It⁠⁠ couldn’t be called⁠‌ a park; there⁠⁠‌ was only a narrow path that barely fit one‍⁠ person.

The‌‍‍ dry tree branches‌‌ intertwined with each‍ other. Their twisted⁠‍ shapes absorbed the‌ dim light from‍‌ the outer walls.‍‍‍ Even the crunch‍ of breaking branches‌ was chilling.

After⁠ about thirty minutes‍ of walking, the‍‌ thick trees vanished‍ as if by⁠ magic. In their‌⁠ place, a log‍ cabin stood right‌ in the middle of the clearing.‌ A man chopping‌ wood saw us⁠⁠ and slammed the axe into the‍‌ stump with force.⁠

“Good‌ to see you.”‍

The‍ emperor wiped the⁠‍ sweat from his‍ forehead with the‍ towel around his neck. If someone had seen my‌ face at that‍ moment, they would’ve‌ thought of many‍‍⁠ different expressions. That’s‌ how absurd the‍‌‍ scene was.

“Looks⁠ like I surprised‌⁠ you.”

“…The‍ emperor of the‍ Great Empire chopping‌‌ wood. How could‌ I not be‌ surprised? In fact,‌‌ I think my⁠ reaction was rather⁠ restrained.”

“You’re⁠‌‍ right.”

The emperor spoke in‌⁠ his usual calm⁠ tone. At a glance of his eyes, Garyeon retreated‍⁠ the same way⁠ we had come.‍‌

She‌ moved her lips‍ slightly. It looked‌ like she was‌‌ going to say‍ something but kept going in silence.⁠ Maybe she was‌‌ holding back because‌ she was in‌ front of the‌ emperor?

“Follow‍‍ me.”

The‌ emperor moved a finger. Garyeon’s consciousness⁠ completely vanished.

We‍⁠ entered the cabin.⁠ The inside was‍‌ heavier than its‍‌ appearance suggested.

The⁠ emperor took two‍ small tea cups‌‌ from the wall‌‌ cabinet. Although they‌‌ looked old, they⁠ were clean. He filled them with tea from a teapot he had‍ in memory.

“So‍ then.”

With‌‍ the cup in‍‍ hand, the emperor⁠ spoke.

“You‍⁠⁠ gave our guard⁠ captain quite a lesson, huh?”

“He⁠‌⁠ brought it on⁠ himself.”

“I‌‌ don’t mean it‌ as a reproach.⁠ Like I said,⁠⁠ you gave him⁠ a lesson.”

The⁠‌ emperor let out a rough laugh.‌⁠‌

“Have‌ you found your‌ answer yet?”

“…You⁠ already knew everything,⁠‌ didn’t you?”

That⁠ Oscar was trying⁠‍‍ to assassinate Victoria.‍⁠ That there was‌ a mastermind behind it. The emperor⁠ already knew. He⁠⁠‍ might even have⁠‍ known the true‍ instigator’s identity.

“At the palace, that‌⁠ kind of thing happens frequently.”

“Just⁠ because it happens‌ often doesn’t make it acceptable.”

“It’s‍ something one must‌‍ overcome to become emperor. If you’re⁠⁠ found out, you die. If you⁠‍ lose in the‍‍ power struggle, you⁠‍‍ die. Isn’t it‍‍ simple?”

“…You’re‍‍ cruel.”

I frowned. But the‌‍ emperor didn’t flinch. With a lofty‍‌ gaze, he stared‌ at the fireplace‌ and said:

“If‍‌‍ I really favored‌‌ Victoria, she’d be⁠ dead by now.‌‍ The only thing‍ keeping her alive‍⁠ is that I stay still, like⁠ a wound-up clock.‍ You could call‌ it my version‍ of the art⁠‌⁠ of ruling.”

“Then,⁠ by your logic,‍‍⁠ leaving Oscar in‍ that state doesn’t⁠ violate any palace‌‍ rules.”

“Exactly.”‍

Despite⁠ drinking hot tea, it seemed like⁠ steam escaped between‌⁠ his teeth. Even with the fireplace‍ lit, the room‍‌ felt cold.

The⁠‍ emperor finished his‍ last sip and‍‌‌ went to a small inner door.‍

“And‌⁠ your answer to⁠‍ the proposal I made?”

While‍‌ holding the doorknob, he asked. I stood up from‍‍ the chair and‌‌ answered.

“I‌ accept.”

But…‌

“I‌ have one condition.”‌

“Ha⁠⁠ ha ha, you really do think‍ like a true educator.”

The‌‌ emperor opened the door.

“I’ll‍‌ add a condition to guarantee Victoria’s safety. Otherwise, I’ll‌⁠ go with Captain‍⁠‌ Oscar and rip‍‍ the truth from‍ whoever’s pulling the‌‍ strings.”

A familiar scent came‌‌ from the door.‌ That same cold‍‌ smell I had‌‌‍ felt hours earlier.‌

“Let’s⁠‍ revise the terms⁠ of the deal.”⁠

“…?”‍⁠

“I⁠ only promised money,‌‌ but I’ll grant‌ one additional wish.‌‍ Just one. If‌‍ it’s for Victoria’s‍‌ safety, I’ll care‌ more for her‍ than for myself. In return, I want you to fulfill one of‌ my requests. Without⁠⁠ fail.”

I stayed silent.

Because‍‌‌ what I saw⁠ beyond the door‌ left me speechless.‌⁠‍ Dim torches, and‌ torture devices used‌ only in the‌ Middle Ages.

“Uuuh…‌‌ uuuhk!”

“Guh…⁠ aaagh!”

A man and a woman were tied‌ to torture racks.⁠⁠ Blindfolded and gagged,‍ their bodies were‌⁠ covered with marks‌ of violence.

And‌⁠ unfortunately, some of‌‍ the marks on⁠⁠ the man’s body‌ were my doing‍‌‍ too.

“I⁠⁠‌ already knew the⁠‌ guard captain and⁠‍‌ my wife had‍‌ something. I didn’t‌‍ care much. But‌‌ if this gets‌‌ out, that’s another‌‍ story. It could‍ hinder my plans.”‍

The‌ torches cast dark⁠ shadows across the‌⁠ emperor’s face. And⁠ with a clear voice, he revealed⁠ the true reason‌ for our meeting.‌

“Act‍‌ like you didn’t see anything.”

Madness‌‌ danced in his⁠⁠ eyes.