Chapter 164: The Child Who Reaches for the Stars

“Try to cut me—­even a little.”

Arrogant words, perhaps, yet once they left the lips of the Giant, they carried a completely different weight: impossibility itself.

Even sword saints such as the Grandmaster and Nameless had said from the outset that the Giant’s body could not be hewn. For Isaac, the invitation to try was nothing short of bewildering.

“…….”

A wall of futility rose before him. He had grown enormously; on the battlefield he now carried far more than his share—but this was something else entirely.

“Do you deem it impossible?”

The Giant gazed down at the tongue-tied Isaac. His tone held no censure; he simply wanted the young man’s honest view. After a hesitant moment, Isaac answered.

“Frankly, with my present skill, I still believe it beyond me.”

Marlin flinched at Isaac’s reply. She had never imagined that someone so relentless in the pursuit of the sword would concede defeat so readily.

“And why is that?”

The question itself made Isaac more flustered. He thought he had already given the reason when he confessed his lack of power.

“……Because even my masters failed. If it is impossible for them, it must be impossible for me as well.”

True, he was closing the gap quickly; both the Grandmaster and Nameless watched his progress with satisfaction, secretly longing for the day he surpassed them.

To overcome the swords of the Transcendents through human strength—that had been the shared dream of the ten disciples raised and trained together in Yeonji Valley.

“Their impossibility is not necessarily yours.”

“…….”

At the Giant’s resolute declaration, Isaac swallowed despite himself. In that instant, he recalled what the Grandmaster and Nameless had muttered when they first confronted the Giant.

[This doesn’t seem to be something one can cut at all. To sever it, we would have to dismantle the very concept of the sword.]

[Tsk… They say some Sword Saints can cleave the uncuttable, but we haven’t reached that realm yet….]

“Perhaps this is the lone stroke of fortune prepared for me, who has endured endless ages,” the Giant murmured. Each word drifted through the abandoned mine, heavy as forged steel.

“Or perhaps it is merely a cruel fate that has kept me alive until this moment.”

Even his measured tone inspired an almost overwhelming sense of conviction.

“Whatever the case, the moment has arrived.”

Eyes half-lidded, the Giant calmly pointed at Isaac.

“I speak to the only human who bears the karma to cut me.”

The only one.

Isaac’s hand trembled. Before he knew it, his palm rested upon his sword—not merely because he sensed a slim chance, but because it felt as though he stood on the cusp of reaching something miraculous.

To cut what cannot be cut.

To achieve what no one else could.

For an instant, he saw the image of a red-haired man swinging an enormous greatsword—a warrior still hailed as the strongest. Then came the vision of the man upon the northern bulwark, guardian of countless lives.

And finally, the woman with long, black hair and alert wolf ears—one whom many, with reverence and awe, called the Grandmaster.

Within Isaac, these figures were woven into a single idea:

Stars.

Thus, he had always gazed up at them. The Grandmaster had pitied him, calling him “the child who reaches for the stars.”

He swallowed hard.

As the one once known as the Silent Sword, he felt he knew exactly where he now stood.

Right before the stars—a wall that seemed utterly unscalable.

Yet should he cleave this barrier, he was sure he could stand beside them.

Suddenly, a question flashed through his mind.

‘What did I just say?’

When the Giant invited him to try, Isaac had answered as though it were obvious:

‘…Because even my masters failed. If it is impossible for them, it must be impossible for me as well.’

Impossible.

Yes—he had declared that cutting the Giant was self-evidently impossible.

Long ago—so very long ago, in a timeline that no longer existed—the Grandmaster had spoken words that now pierced him like a dagger:

[Child, you are like one who yearns for the stars. Even knowing it is impossible, you keep your hand outstretched to the end.]

What had then been praise now tasted of bitter anguish.

“Ha.”

Before he realized it….

He had become the man who decided what was possible and what was impossible.

Each new thing he proved possible raised another pillar of impossibility within him.

“Hoo…”

How shameful, that the self who once believed anything was within reach now spoke of what could not be done—so unlike the dusty, half-forgotten boy in his memories.

“I’ll give it a try.”

Isaac stepped forward. The moment felt both liberating and exhilarating, as though he had rediscovered the wonder of childhood. A cool smile crept across his face.

For the first time, the Giant’s lips curved in response.

“Stars have appeared in your eyes.”

****

Claang! Claang! Claang!

Two blades slashed at the Giant’s thick hide, the strikes sounding like an angry drumbeat—almost chaotic to behold.

“So that’s why he’s swinging like that?” Sharen asked, staring blankly at Isaac. The Grandmaster, arms folded, nodded with a pleased grin.

“Indeed. He swings to move forward. Look at his back—no hesitation whatsoever. And isn’t he adorable, like an innocent child?”

“Hmm?” Sharen tilted her head.

Adorable? She wasn’t convinced.

“Isn’t Isaac more cool than cute?” Watching him swing so fiercely felt more impressive than endearing. The Grandmaster chuckled and patted her hair.

“A true handsome man embraces every charm.”

“Ah-ha! Like how I’m both cute and sexy?!”

“Just as this master possesses both impish and intoxicating appeal,” she added with a wink.

Listening to them banter, Rihanna clicked her tongue. Still, she begrudgingly agreed: Isaac could be cute at times— and often strikingly cool.

Anyway, she had plenty to say, yet kept silent.

She had never swung a sword herself, but Rihanna could tell at a glance.

That thing…

“What do you think, Unnie?” Sharen, certain Rihanna was pondering Isaac, whisked off her necklace. The words that tumbled from Rihanna’s mouth were completely unexpected.

“Even Father couldn’t cut that.”

“……?!”

“Hmm.”

Sharen was taken aback; she had assumed Rihanna was focused on Isaac. To her, if anyone asked who was the world’s strongest, the answer was unquestionably her father, Arandel Helmut.

“I’m sure. Not even Father’s blade could sever it. I’ve watched his sword closer than anyone.”

“Th-then wouldn’t it be impossible for Isaac too?”

“It would,” Rihanna confirmed, utterly matter-of-fact.

At this very moment, no matter how you looked at it, the only honest verdict was impossible.

“Not yet.”

And yet—watching Isaac, she could almost believe it might be possible.

That must be why the words came with an unspoken but. Hearing them, Sharen blinked and asked:

“If he pulls this off, does that mean Isaac will be stronger than my father?!”

“Haha! Wouldn’t that be marvelous!”

The Grandmaster ruffled Sharen’s hair again, calling her adorable. Sharen accepted the gesture, then peered up at her.

“As a raw measure of power, he likely won’t surpass Arandel. But…”

With a gentle smile, the Grandmaster turned her gaze to Isaac, as though the young man’s tireless striving were irresistibly endearing.

“…when it comes to the act of cutting, he will surely exceed Arandel Helmut.”

All three women’s eyes swung to Isaac at once.

Claang! Claang! Claang!

Clear, ringing thuds echoed—yet the Giant’s hide remained unmarked.

Suddenly, Sharen voiced another doubt.

“……Isn’t he just swinging because he’s mad?”

It almost looked like venting. Worse, Isaac wasn’t even using his usual blade but some hefty sword he had borrowed from who-knows-where.

“Hard to deny,” Rihanna admitted. Watching him, she too had felt that impression.

“But Isaac never swings a sword without a thought,” she added. “If he’s striking like that, there’s a reason. That’s the kind of man he is. Without a purpose, he’d sit down and brood instead.”

The Isaac who wasted four years on fruitless toil for Helmut’s sword no longer existed. Now he moved because he had a clear direction and goal—Rihanna believed that with all her heart.

“Hmm.”

Overhearing the two, the Grandmaster let a faint smile curl her lips, shoulders puffing with pride at the chance to reveal knowledge only she possessed.

“Do you know what that rascal was called in his previous life?”

Of course they didn’t.

“The ‘Silent Sword.’ They said he brandished a sword made of words themselves.”

In matters of theory, no one could best him.

“So trust and watch. He will show us—”

—The very sword he now forges inside his mind.

[TL: Yeahhh! This is what I wanted. Hard work!!!]

---The End Of The Chapter---

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