Episode 6 – Diamond
When Nada returned from the dungeon, practically half-dead, he went straight to one of the academy’s facilities to exchange his Calvaon. After that, carrying the small amount of money he had earned despite his severe injuries, he hurried toward his dormitory. He stopped by the hospital on the way. They told him that if he boosted his healing with recovery medicine, he should heal in about a week. His right leg and ribs were fractured. No internal damage, but still a miserable diagnosis.
The sun had long set, and the sky was already dark.
As Nada walked home, all he could think about was the dungeon.
What should I do from here on…?
But no answer came.
He wouldn’t be able to go into the dungeon for a week. In a situation where he barely had any savings to begin with, these injuries were brutal. And even after a week, when he could dive again, he had no way to make any big money.
Joining another party would be the quickest way to earn, but he had already exhausted all such options. If he had any kind of talent that made parties fight over him, things would be different—but Nada had nothing of the sort.
If someone were to ask him, “When did you realize you had no talent?”—Nada would probably answer like this:—I’ve never once thought I had talent in the first place.
He’d been labeled a failure at the end of his second year. Back then, he still had hope—maybe he’d awaken an Ability, maybe he’d receive a Gift.
But maybe about a year after that?
His reputation within the academy plummeted.
In that entire year, he failed to raise his evaluation in any way.
Of course, he never awakened an Ability or received a Gift—that much was true. But more than that, he simply didn’t improve at all.
In academics, he remained far closer to the bottom of the year than the middle.
As for martial techniques, there was no need to even say it.
Large weapons didn’t have many complex techniques to begin with. You either swung down, swept sideways, or thrust. If you wanted to wield them freely, strength mattered far more than skill. No matter how clumsy the swing, as long as you had centrifugal force and weight, you could cut down an enemy.
Those three years—he did everything he could, but nothing ever sprouted.
He was nothing more than a giant Vinya tree: big, but useless.
Back then, he even resented his lack of talent. Why am I the only one who doesn’t have the “ordinary things” everyone else has?
Two more years passed since then, and those feelings had simply become familiar.
And so, Nada was no longer despairing.
He returned to his cramped six-tatami apartment, placed his armor, the Crescent Blade, and the kukri knife beside him, hurried to the kitchenette on his still-sound left leg, wrung out a towel, and wiped down his body, then ate a cheap, sour fruit he had nearby before collapsing into bed.
The ceiling looked no different than usual.
He hadn’t even turned on the light.
From outside, the round moon peeked into the room.
Nada picked up a small stone he kept beside his bed and rolled it in his hand. It wasn’t anything special—just a stone. Black in color, about the size of a fist. It wasn’t even a Calvaon, so it had no value. If he tried to sell it, he’d be thrown out of the shop for messing around. But he kept it because it was the very first thing he ever obtained during his first dungeon dive—a memento.
That night, as he toyed with the stone and stared at the moon, thinking it felt lighter than usual somehow, he drifted into sleep before he realized it.
◆◆◆
A week passed.
Nada had spent nearly all of it in bed, but finally, the pain in his right leg had subsided enough for him to move again.
He wanted to immediately make up for the lost week by diving into the dungeon, but that wasn’t possible.
Nada was a student.
And naturally, that meant attending classes.
Today, he was in class. Larva Academy had a wide range of curriculums required for adventurers. How to make healing potions, how to wrap bandages, and cloth. Emergency treatment for injuries. Knowledge about Abilities and Gifts. Information about monsters and dungeons. All of that was included.
And among all those, the academy put the most effort into its combat curriculum.
It was divided into several categories, but the class Nada was attending now was one of the martial-technique courses known as mock combat. It took place in the wide training grounds within the school campus. The ground was nothing but packed dirt, essentially functioning as a practice field. There, instead of inviting seasoned adventurer-teachers to show them how to use or swing a sword, students were meant to learn how to fight through live practice. Naturally, their opponents were other people, and they clashed with wooden weapons to refine their skills.
However, there was no one who would partner with Nada.
So for Nada, “training” meant standing at the far edge of the grounds and simply swinging the Green Dragon Crescent Blade he had brought with him.
“Still, Cain’s amazing! I really admire your swordsmanship!”
Voices drifted over from far away.
Nada paid them no mind and single-mindedly kept swinging his crescent blade.
He’d had a full week’s gap in training. For Nada, whose only strong point was his physique, losing strength would drastically lower his survival rate. That was why he deliberately brought the heavy crescent blade from home to swing it here and build the muscle needed to wield it properly. He knew push-ups and sit-ups, of course, but swinging the weapon itself built the exact muscles required to handle it.
“Well, it’s not that impressive. This is all I’ve got.”
He still felt like the crescent blade was swinging him at times.
He had to get rid of that.
Thinking that, Nada swung the blade again—right, left, up, down—without taking a break, simply throwing himself into it with everything he had.
“Still, compared to me, you're incredible. I’ve got a long way to go.”
“But I think you’ve gotten stronger lately.”
“You think so? Hearing that from you, Cain, makes me happy.”
“Yeah. But you’ve still got a ways to go. So we both have to keep at it.”
“Tch. You’re strict, Cain. But we can afford to take a little break, right?”
“For a little bit, yeah. I’m tired too.”
“But man, that ‘katana’ of yours is cool as hell!”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. It’s tough, it cuts well, and that pattern on the blade is gorgeous—one of the most beautiful among bladed weapons.”
“Right? I like how stylish katanas are too.”
“And it’s a longsword, so it can handle anything—versatile and good in almost any situation, right?”
“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be able to fight. I mean, I don’t have any Abilities or Gifts.”
While swinging the crescent blade, Nada checked over his own body.
Was anything off? Was anything slow? Which motion let him swing the crescent blade the most efficiently?
With no teacher to guide him, Nada could only learn martial technique—the handling of his crescent blade—through trial and error in practice. There was no one else in the academy who used a similar weapon, so proper instruction was impossible.
That was why he had to move carefully, testing every motion to see what suited him. In his mind, being dragged around by the weapon made you second-rate; a first-rate fighter unified weapon and will, never letting the weapon pull their body off-line.
There—wrong again.
Nada grimaced.
That slash from right to left just now—he had been pulled by the blade’s weight, forcing him to take an extra step to maintain balance. That wouldn’t do. He knew from experience that one extra step of opening could cost him his life.
“Even so, I respect you, man. Ten years, right? To earn that swordsmanship.”
“Yeah. It took forever. I wanted to be an adventurer since I was a kid, so I worked hard with the sword… but I never expected I wouldn’t gain a single ‘power.’”
“But Cain, you worked even harder with your sword after giving up on that, didn’t you? I could never do something like that.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.”
A girlish voice mixed into the background chatter.
Even then, Nada paid no attention and continued swinging his crescent blade.
He wanted to master the weapon as fast as possible so that entering the dungeon would be easier. That was all he cared about.
No—maybe it was more accurate to say he wanted to fill his mind with that and nothing else.
“By the way, who taught you that sword technique?”
“It was someone from the East. I don’t really know the details.”
“And how did you get acquainted with such a person?”
“In the town where I was born. He collapsed there, so we brought him to our manor. While we talked about all sorts of things, I ended up asking him to take me as his student. Father said it was too early for me to learn the sword, but I begged him until he gave in.”
“Why were you so eager to learn swordsmanship at such a young age?”
“Well, it’s a man’s romance, right?”
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Haha. I’m the second son, you know. The one who inherits the house is the eldest. So, since I can’t become the lord, Mother told me to find another path. And when I was little, she used to read me stories about heroes who ventured into dungeons. They really stuck with me. I started to wonder if I could become like that, too, if I became an adventurer. Basically… I admired them.”
“So that’s why you worked so hard with the sword?”
“Yeah. But even so, I know I’m still nowhere near enough—both as an adventurer and as a swordsman. Compared to people who have real talent, there’s a big difference in the power behind each strike.”
“Well, yeah, but that can’t be helped. Besides, you’ve got your own little tricks to bring out that power, don’t you?”
“I’m still testing them out.”
“Then why not try them? On that monkey over there.”
“Who are you calling a monkey!?”
“Now now. But I’d like a match with you too, so could I ask for a bout?”
“Sure. I’ll use a wooden sword, but go easy on me, alright?”
“I know.”
“Then, could you give the signal?”
“Very well. Ready—begin!”
Nada was still off by himself, swinging his crescent blade with a gleaming, focused motion.
It wasn’t a lie that he wanted to spar if he had a partner, but for Nada, that wasn’t important.
Because Nada’s weapon was a crescent blade. The Green Dragon Crescent Blade was powerful.
In the modern age, where light and easy weapons like clubs, short swords, short spears, and hand axes were the norm, very few used something as large and unwieldy as Nada’s weapon. And not just long—almost no one used a weapon as heavy as a great tree trunk.
In real combat, you’d use a real blade, but in practice matches, nearly everything was made of wood.
Wooden versions of large spears existed, of course, but compared to the real one he swung now, the weight difference was massive. For Nada, swinging one felt nearly the same as using a short sword.
That meant if he used a long-reach, lightweight wooden great spear against someone using a short sword—common among adventurers—Nada would almost always win simply due to reach alone. Skill and technique barely mattered. And if Nada won that way, there wasn’t much to gain from the fight.
So ever since he chose a large weapon, he was almost never invited to spar.
At first, people did ask him a few times. But in matches without skills or abilities, Nada’s victory rate was overwhelmingly high. Out of jealousy—or maybe because they didn’t want to lose to someone “inferior”—people gradually stopped inviting him.
And so, even in sparring-format classes, Nada usually ended up alone.
“Still, Sir Cain’s swordsmanship really is beautiful. It’s like watching a butterfly dance.”
Nada was still swinging the Green Dragon Crescent Blade.
Swinging it with utter focus.
He held the image of the technique inside his mind.
No matter how he traced the imagined lines of an attack, his body always drifted a bit off. Even so, he refused to give up, trying to eliminate every gap between strikes as he gradually pushed his movements closer to the ideal.
He swung the blade down vertically, flipped it up in an instant for an upward slash, drew it back, spun once, then unleashed a sweeping strike using his whole body. Immediately, he reversed the blade for another horizontal cut from the opposite side, and ended with a powerful thrust as if to finish the sequence—yet he still didn’t stop. He drew the weapon back to his body and moved into a new pattern.
Honestly, he looked clumsy.
Each motion was heavy and sluggish, with none of the elegant grace of a dance. Sweat dripped from his face in large beads, his back was soaked as though he’d been caught in the rain, and his breathing was ragged. His spear swings grew sloppier by the moment.
Even so, Nada did not stop.
He was still swinging the crescent blade.
“...That was an excellent match.”
“Ow, ow... Cain, you could’ve gone a little easier on me.”
“Sorry. You were just so strong that I got fired up without meaning to.”
“When you say it like that, it’s hard to stay mad at you. Can’t exactly chew you out.”
“Sorry.”
“Forget it. More importantly, you had a lot more openings today than usual. Something going on?”
“I thought so too. It was unusual.”
“Well, you know… when I’ve got nothing to reinforce my strikes, I end up feeling insecure about my power. So I’ve been experimenting, trying to squeeze out a little more. If I could just get rid of the openings while I’m at it, that’d be great.”
“Your drive to improve really is impressive.”
“Thanks.”
“Can’t be helped. Cain’s aiming pretty high, right?”
“Yeah. My goal is Lord Adamas.”
“Adamas? Who the hell is that?”
“My, my, how ignorant. A hero of the past. And not just any—he’s called the first and supreme hero, the chosen one blessed by the Goddess of Victory. Anyone in the adventuring world knows him.”
“So you look up to a guy like that? Damn, Cain, that’s amazing.”
“Thanks. I want to conquer countless dungeons like he did. And then—leave behind something like the Dragon’s Claw.”
“Dragon’s Claw? What’s that supposed to be?”
“It’s said Lord Adamas used a dragon’s three-toed footprint as his party’s emblem. So wherever he went, the dragon’s tracks remained. I want to leave behind a symbol for my own party like that someday.”
“Well then, guess we'd better get to work too—leave behind the sacred Bodhi leaf nice and clear.”
“Right.”
“Then how about we head to the dungeon right away?”
“Sound good!”
Even after all the noise faded, Nada was still swinging the crescent blade.
People trickled away one after another. The bell signaling the end of class had already rung. Normally, Nada had no real reason to stay here. Back in Aghiya, he had access to a private training room, but since leaving, he could no longer use it. So his only option was a public practice field like this.
Of course, he was the only one like that.
Most adventurers belonged to a style or school the academy partnered with. Each school had its own dedicated training facility the academy provided. Naturally, most were trained there. But no school taught the use of massive weapons like Nada’s. That art had died out with time.
So Nada trained alone, honing himself.
He swung his polearm hundreds of times over, again and again.
It wasn’t enough.
No matter how much he swung, he was still far from the form he envisioned.
Far from it, time simply slipped away.
The sun had already begun to set.
His back was drenched in sweat, his clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin. Sweat dripped from his forehead, ran along his cheek, slid down his jaw, and fell to the ground. His arms screamed, his head swam—yet still he swung. Like a demon, he kept swinging.
How many hours had passed?
Swinging the crescent blade in an empty field with no one around, he suddenly felt someone approaching.
A smell reached him—sweat, blood, and beast musk—closing in on Nada.
As the figure drew close enough, she called out to Nada. Her voice was one no man could produce.
“Long time no see—”
When Nada heard that silky voice, he stopped swinging his polearm and turned toward her.
Her upper body was wrapped in tight-fitting clothes that clung to her skin, emphasizing her figure, while from the waist down she wore loose, puffed pants that hid her shape.
His eyes rose to her face. First, he saw her dust- and dirt-stained blond hair. It had a lovely natural wave to it, but it had been chopped roughly to shoulder length. She had a high nose, thin lips, big, round double-lidded eyes—features that would normally make for a cute beauty—but sweat and grime stole away any hint of femininity. On top of that, a faint mustache shadowed the skin beneath her nose. She could almost pass for a man.
And the dried meat she held between her teeth erased whatever femininity remained. She chewed the jerky, swallowed it, then brought the large leather flask in her hand up to her lips for a drink. Water dribbled from the corner of her mouth, and she wiped it away with her hand.
“…What do you want?”
Nada knew her well, so his tone was sluggish and unenthused.
“That’s a rather cold greeting.”
Slowly, she lifted the corners of her mouth in a smirk.
This woman was none other than the former leader of Aghiya—and the one who had personally brought Nada into the group.
Her name was Iris.
She possessed the same Gift as the hero of old—Adamas—and so people called her the “Return of the Ancient Hero.”
Nada slowly looked her over, the sun at her back.
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