The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master

Inside the training field, the walls trembled and collapsed, scattering debris everywhere. The layer of air vibrated.

In the midst of that distorted subspace, the Golden Generation lay prostrate on the ground.

“Khhhhh…!”

Abel groaned. Her body felt as if it weighed a thousand tons. In that state, not only was it impossible to stand, but even gripping her sword was unbearable.

She remained with her forehead pressed to the ground, barely lifting her head and turning her eyes to the sides. She wasn’t the only one—the others were also struggling in vain.

That didn’t bring her any comfort. Especially after hearing what Ho Ah-Hyun said.

“They all have extraordinary potential, but… they’ve grown too much like greenhouse flowers.”

Balor Joaquin turned his gaze to Kang Geom-Ma, who stood upright a few steps away. In his generation, only he remained standing.

“One alone is so overwhelming that he’s ended up stunting the growth of the others.”

“…There was no other choice that time. Didn’t you see the corps commanders attacking us en masse?”

“And who’s blaming you? But you were the one who rushed in alone to attack them.”

“Ugh.”

Geom-Ma and Ho Ah-Hyun spoke calmly. However, to the others, the vibrating and dense air barely allowed them to hear fragmented words.

“Isn’t this too harsh, Father?”

“Too harsh? If they can’t even endure this, in the next catastrophe they’ll do nothing but carry your things until they die. That way they’ll never be able to stop the Apostles of Suppression.”

“But in Kali Yuga’s case at least…”

“I’ll make it clear—that bastard didn’t even rank among the Apostles of Suppression. That’s why he covered the whole world with illusions using Blessing of the Apocalypse M 2nd.”

“…I get it, I get it. I won’t argue, but at least don’t push them too hard. It’s their first time.”

“That’s your problem.”

They, stuck to the ground, unable to move, while Geom-Ma stood firm and unshaken. That height difference was the same gap that existed between them and the Heavenly Sword.

Abel bit the inside of her cheek.

‘Even if I became one of the Seven Stars like this… it would be meaningless.’

The Sword Master and Changseong were about to retire. These days, there were no longer great evils like in the past, because Geom-Ma alone was capable of dominating all of Gehenna.

That’s why the veterans could peacefully leave their posts as the Seven Stars.

Even so, the world would still need heroes with that title. People had spent more than half a century growing up with those two words, “Seven Stars.”

It was a symbol. Even if the position had become almost nominal, it still represented the ideal all top-level heroes aspired to.

New Seven Stars would soon be chosen. The strongest candidates were four:

— The Hero, Leon von Reinhardt.

— The Buddha of the Seal, Rachel de Mura.

— The Heavenly Archer, Saki Ryozo.

— And herself, Abel von Nibelung.

‘…No.’

She didn’t want to become one of the Seven Stars just to fill a quota, thanks to the fame of being the Sword Master’s granddaughter. That would be useless—worse than nothing.

‘I want to earn it with my own hands.’

Abel recalled the last image of her father, Orion von Nibelung. His body, reduced to bones, turned into an undead.

But even then, he didn’t seem repulsive to her. Her father had entered the undead dungeon with the ambition of surpassing her grandfather. Although in the end, due to a tragic accident, he ended up bearing the shame of becoming the Undead King.

‘That ambition of my father shone by itself like a star.’

Orion von Nibelung. Even though his veins hung like dry roots, the blood that ran through them was still burning.

The blood of a warrior.

That same blood also ran through Abel’s veins.

Tap.

She placed her hands against the ground. The gravity was twenty times heavier than normal. Her organs felt like they were being crushed.

Crack, crack.

The sounds of fractures echoed from her ribs. It was as if her bronchi were tearing apart.

Even so.

“Haa… haa…”

“Oh. You’re the first to stand up.”

Though still hunched, half bent over, Abel managed to rise on her own legs.

Balor Joaquin looked at her with a faint smile.

“Impressive.”

He was the Founding Hero, the master of the Seven Braves. At his peak, his gaze reached the very sky. To be recognized by someone whose standards pierced the stratosphere was, for any hero, a lifetime honor.

Of course, they didn’t know Balor’s true identity. In Abel’s eyes, there was no room for emotion or doubt—only burning determination.

The Golden Generation didn’t think too much about who he really was. To them, he was Kang Geom-Ma’s—great Balor Joaquin.

While her cousin Chaerina continued breaking records daily, and Geom-Ma’s black hair was considered a sign of divine favoritism, public perception was no different—everyone believed it.

Crack!

Abel gripped her sword hilt until it creaked, and charged forward.

“That’s right… at least you carry Aaron’s blood in your veins.”

Balor’s words were lost under the roar of pressure.

The blade came down toward Balor’s face, but even then, he was still smiling.

Swish.

The air tore apart. Balor barely tilted his head, dodging the slash. It was a thrust as fast as lightning, but in his timeline, it seemed slowed.

Abel didn’t stop. She slashed down toward his shoulder. But not even the blade grazed his skin.

“Wha… how!”

Between the sword and Balor’s shoulder, a void formed. The very air repelled the blade, preventing it from reaching him.

Balor Joaquin’s smile widened.

“That you can move at this speed without using a Blessing—very good. But your muscle usage is too direct.”

He grabbed her wrist tightly. Abel’s body rose into the air, losing weight.

“Today’s heroes manipulate the limits of humanity at will.”

And he slammed her into the ground.

Boom!

Abel spat blood from all seven orifices. Her spine shattered like glass.

But this was a battle between heroes. And even if they were young, they were no longer mere students—they were adult heroes. To treat her with condescension would be an insult.

Looking down at her, Balor’s voice rang out harshly.

“They say demons are stronger because they use magic. That’s what people have come to believe lately.”

“Khhhk…”

“But I don’t know who came up with that stupidity. Demons rely so much on magic that they don’t train their bodies. In contrast, the Blessings of heroes are only strengthened through physical effort. That’s how they work.”

A flash gleamed at Balor’s flank—it was Leon’s sword.

Balor deflected the charge with the palm of his hand and immediately spun his arm. His fist, fast as a hammer, struck Leon full in the cheek.

Boom!

The wall collapsed. Leon was plastered like a sticker and then fell weakly to the ground. He barely moved his fingers before turning over. His chest rose and fell heavily.

Balor added,

“In the beginning, they might be weaker than demons, but if they train body and mind without rest, eventually demons can’t beat humans either. And tell me—are your enemies demons now?”

“No, sir!”

Rachel’s shadow fell over his head. Her spear attacked like a torrential downpour.

Balor dodged the series of thrusts with minimal movement, gestures so slight they resembled boxing weaving.

Bang!

In an instant, Rachel tried to grab him. Balor caught her fingers interlocked and pounded a flurry of jabs into her abdomen.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

The sound of the punches into her stomach was brutal.

Balor let go after striking just enough. Rachel collapsed, her insides shaken by the accumulated impact.

“Focus, kids. Your enemies aren’t demons—they’re the End. You’ll only be able to face them if you break human limits.”

Fwooosh!

Now it was a bow. But Balor didn’t even bother dodging. Ryozo’s arrows shattered against his skin without piercing it.

She drew the string again and again. Her fingers trembled; the target slipped away.

But she turned it into an advantage—clumsy shots fired simultaneously collided and bounced, forming a complex mesh, like a martial arts formation. Suddenly, dozens of arrows surrounded him from all directions.

“First you must push the human body to the extreme. Only after that comes the training of Blessings.”

Balor observed each trajectory with a sharp gaze, as if sanding the air with his eyes.

“But what I see in you is that from a young age, you were only taught to depend on your Blessing. That’s why all you aim for is to land a valid hit on me, nothing more.”

He unleashed killing intent toward Ryozo. Her knees buckled inward and she collapsed. She, the archer who valued heart over physique, was the most vulnerable among those attacking head-on.

Balor landed softly, and as he looked them over, he let out a resigned sigh.

“I wanted to gauge your level, but like this… it’ll be faster to start from zero.”

At that moment—

━━━━━!

Abel spun around. Her sword tore through the wind with a chilling whistle. The twist was so extreme her spine creaked in pain.

The blade came down violently. But incredibly, Balor deflected it with a mere flick of his finger on the blade.

Clang!

The sword rebounded absurdly.

Crack!

But Abel’s gaze didn’t dim. On the contrary, she spun again. The centrifugal force completely wrecked her waist, but she turned it into momentum.

On the second slash, even Balor parted his lips slightly in surprise. Turning his counterattack into a new spin using inertia? That will to fight even at the cost of her own body lit a fire in him he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Thump!

He struck the blade with his fist. Abel spun again. She didn’t dampen the force—she intensified it.

Her spine was already in pieces. It didn’t matter. She poured every gram of energy into her arms and kept accelerating.

Faster and faster. Her organs and bones rattled like inside a drum.

Her sword dance broke the sound barrier.

When she reached six times the speed of sound, the blast of air shook the entire space.

“……”

Silence fell all at once.

…Abel’s eyes blinked dimly. Then she collapsed forward, showing only the whites.

Geom-Ma caught her mid-fall. Her breathing was so faint there was barely a trace of life.

Even if it was a subspace, such self-destruction would be imprinted on her subconscious.

For her husband, Kang Geom-Ma, it was impossible not to worry.

“Wasn’t that too much…?”

“If I had stopped in time, she would’ve remained trapped within her own limits.”

Balor cracked his neck to either side as he responded.

“So… have they passed?”

“What do you think?”

When he pulled back his hand, there were red marks on his skin.

***

“Ugh… ughh.”

Abel opened her eyes.

“I’m not… done yet…!!”

She sat up abruptly, causing the blanket to fall off the bed.

“It’s already over.”

Ryozo answered. Sitting beside her, she was peeling an apple like she was taking care of a sick person.

“Over…?”

“Yes.”

“But I don’t remember anything… huh!”

A slice of apple was shoved into her mouth like a gag. Ryozo forced her to chew while muttering,

“I lost today.”

“…Huh?”

“You won, Abel!”

Ryozo pouted, as if the defeat weighed heavily on her soul.