CHAPTER 240: A HEAVY HEART

A week later.

The news about the huge cavity on the surface of Akumia brought every single person on the planet a wave of shock that spread like wildfire.

The loud explosion that had shaken the air, the earthquake that was felt by countless people across different regions, and the strange disturbances in the mana of the atmosphere were things too large, too unnatural to be covered up or hidden.

Questions began to rise like restless smoke, drifting into every corner of the world. Many theories were formed, each taking root in taverns, marketplaces, and private gatherings. The world was once again alive with speculation and gossip, like a fire crackling back to life.

Some claimed that a saint had been provoked into anger by the dwarves and had unleashed a terrifyingly powerful attack. Others suggested it was the work of some shadowy criminal organization, or even the calculated strike of another continent seeking to send a warning.

Yet the theory that held the most weight among the masses was that the dwarves themselves had been experimenting with some sort of secret weapon, a weapon that had catastrophically failed, leading to such a devastating explosion.

But no matter the rumor, there was no clear answer from the dwarves. Neither a denial nor an admission came. Even when the Human Council and the Elven Council demanded an explanation, the Dwarf King merely gave the simple reply, "It was an unfortunate accident, and we are still investigating the cause."

It was a shocker even for the councils, yet since the explosion had not taken place on their lands, there was little more they could do. Still, the silence of the dwarves did not put their minds at ease. The possibility of the dwarves possessing a weapon capable of producing such destruction hung over them like a heavy shadow, and the thought alone was enough to plant unease in the hearts of leaders.

However, such worries belonged to the high seats of power, not to the ordinary folk. For the mundane humans, elves, and other races, there was nothing they could do except exchange rumors, share half-truths, and weave tales as the days passed.

One way or another, the news reached every person, no matter how far they lived from the heart of Akumia. It became a topic that lit every conversation, drawing curious glances and hushed voices. But, as with all things, time dulled the sharp edge of fear and excitement. A few days later, life began to move on. After a week, while some still brought it up in conversation, the news had lost its burning heat and became little more than lukewarm chatter.

Meanwhile, somewhere deep within the grounds of Starlight Academy, something else was quietly taking shape.

Clash!!

"It’s horrible."

Leonard’s voice cut through the air, cold and sharp, carrying a weight that could make the hairs on the back of the neck rise.

His wooden sword moved with swift precision, intercepting an incoming strike from his opponent. The sharp impact rang through the training hall like a sudden crack of thunder. In the same motion, he twisted his hips, his leg snapping forward to deliver a kick aimed straight at Ash’s stomach.

Ash caught the blow with his free hand, bracing against the force. Without hesitation, he brought his wooden sword down toward Leonard’s extended leg. But before it could connect, Leonard redirected the strike effortlessly, his body twisting midair as he shifted his weight, breaking free from Ash’s hold with a movement so clean it seemed rehearsed a thousand times.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, Leonard’s blade swept out in a fast, controlled arc, forcing Ash to duck. A few strands of Ash’s hair drifted through the air, severed and falling softly to the floor.

But the attacks did not end there. The moment Leonard’s stance steadied, his body moved again like a sudden gust of wind. His sword stopped just a breath away from Ash’s neck, the edge close enough for him to feel the faint brush of air.

Ash gritted his teeth, his body tense, the situation pressing on him like a harsh reminder of his own limits.

"Is this the best you can do? Show me everything you have got."

The challenge was still hanging in the air when Ash’s expression shifted into calm neutrality. He adjusted his stance, his eyes steady, and then his sword exploded into a high-speed flurry of strikes.

Leonard, however, simply stepped back, weaving away from every blow with practiced ease. His expression did not change, not even a flicker of excitement or struggle. None of the strikes reached him. They carried no real weight, no lethal intent, only raw strength shaped into the form of swordplay.

When the attack made by Ash was stopped, Leonard let out a long, slow sigh, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"It’s truly disheartening to see that, while being quite good in hand-to-hand combat and magic, you completely lack in swordsmanship. Who even taught you... I mean, didn’t they at least teach you the basics?"

"What do you mean by who taught me? I am self-taught, from magic to sword... though I did get some help in the initial stages of both." Ash’s voice was calm, almost casual, but his words were nothing but the truth.

Everything he knew about swordsmanship had been drawn from the game he once played, the very same game that had led to his transmigration into this novel world. Yet, to this day, he had found not even the faintest thread linking the VR game to the events of this reality.

Still, his style with the sword was heavily influenced by what he had learned in that game. In the virtual world, simply thinking about a skill was enough for the character to execute it flawlessly. The same was true for sword techniques.

For example, if there was a skill named Slash, performing it without using the skill would result in an ordinary cut. But activating the skill would produce a perfectly executed slash, enveloped in energy that boosted its power and increased the chances of a critical strike.

So while Ash had focused mostly on normal, practical attacks within the game, he had carried over everything he knew into this world, believing his swordsmanship to be at least decent—if not impressive.

Yet at this moment, he felt... what was it exactly? Depressed? Or perhaps just plain stupid?

Leonard’s gaze lingered on him with quiet intensity. In truth, when the principal had asked Leonard to teach Ash the basics of swordsmanship, he had been surprised. No... shocked was the better word. The principal’s expression when making the request had carried the same reaction, as if the very idea had caught him off guard.

That shock only grew when Leonard learned about Ash’s unique class, one capable of wielding both magic and the sword. It was not something he had anticipated hearing, and it had taken him some time to accept it.

If Saint Nichole had not been so occupied with the constant dungeon outbreaks that had been plaguing the lands lately, Leonard was certain the man would have taken on the role of Ash’s instructor himself.

At first, Leonard assumed the principal’s surprise was simply because of Ash’s rare class, but the more he thought about it... the more he began to understand the real reason.

This damn monster, who casts instant spells with more power than most mages could ever hope to muster, is self-taught in both magic and sword...

And considering that fact alone, Leonard had to admit, Ash’s swordsmanship was already impressive for someone without a mentor. He was not like Ray, whose monstrous talent allowed him to grasp ten lessons after being taught one. But Ash was still a genius in his own right. Compared to Ray, however, he seemed to fall a little short.

...Still, what if this hard-working genius were given proper guidance? What if his raw effort was shaped, refined, and pushed forward with the right kind of teaching?

That would be the birth of a true monster.

Right now, Ash was wasting his potential. His swordplay lacked form, flowing in the wild, instinct-driven manner of a beast rather than a disciplined warrior. And because of that, he had no access to Aura.

"You need to start from scratch then." Leonard said in a stern tone.

"Alright." Ash agreed.

That simple answer came as quite a shocker for Leonard. His expression faltered for a moment, the faintest crack in his composure, before he allowed a small smile to form. His retirement, which he had once thought would be a dull and uneventful phase of his life, was now slowly filling with a new flare of exciting moments, and this was one of them. Such moments brought him an unexpected but deeply satisfying feeling.

Filled with curiosity and expectation, he asked, "Won’t you complain? That I am making you do this? That you already know everything about the sword? That it’s just a waste of your time?"

Ash remained silent for a second, gazing at Leonard with an absent-minded look. He thought quietly before speaking.

"...Why should I complain? I know I am weak, and if, to become strong, I have to start everything from scratch, then I would still do it."

After a slight pause, he continued, ".....And, I know nothing about the sword. I have learned that no one can know everything about anything, whether they are people, objects, or something else."

"So, yeah, I know amateur with swords, and I would like to master mine. Will you teach me, Instructor Leonard?"

Ash asked this while bowing his head. His expression stayed neutral, but behind that calm façade was a storm of hidden feelings. Even though his mind was kept orderly by the Soul Library, his body betrayed him.

It showed the symptoms of trauma and anxiety. He despised those signs of weakness, so he filled his days completely, pushing himself to the limit without giving his body even the smallest moment of rest, afraid that in stillness, he might unconsciously do something reckless.

Because of this, he had barely spent any meaningful time with Elysia. Somewhere along the way, he had started to find it hard to be open with her. The courage to say what he felt, to allow his emotions to flow freely, had begun to slip away from him.

He did not fully understand why this was happening... or perhaps, deep down, he did.

Maybe his mind had long ago built a shield to protect itself, a wall that caged everything inside him after Elysia’s death in his previous life. That same wall, which had once been his protection, had now turned into an obstacle that would not allow him to become truly open with anyone.

And that made him feel pathetic.

To be honest... he was pathetic.

Leonard scoffed internally, If you are weak, then what does that make the other students? The weakest of the weak...

But still, he understood how Ash felt... or maybe he didn’t.

"Even if you hadn’t asked me, I would have still taught you about swords anyway." Leonard replied with a faint smile, his tone carrying a quiet certainty.

Ash gave a small nod of thanks before turning to leave. The real training would start soon, but Leonard still needed to make some preparations, which meant Ash had an hour or two of free time.

Free time, however, was something Ash didn’t want. Being idle left too much space for unwanted thoughts, so he decided to continue exercising even now.

The semester exams were drawing close, their shadow looming over the academy, but to be honest, Ash had no interest in them. He barely even cared about attending the academy itself, yet he still went every day, as if pulled by an unseen string.

...Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something..?

The thought lingered for only a moment before it was pushed aside. The steady rhythm of training, the pressure in his muscles, the pounding of his heart — all of it slowly washed away the noise in his head until his mind felt clear again.

***

One Today, Three Tomorrow