Chapter 6: Crimson Sword Saint, Carla Tsukamoto 2

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I hated myself for being good for nothing but cutting things down. If I couldn’t protect someone precious to me with this sword, then it would be better to just die. That sword, honed to such an extreme that people praised it as that of a 【Sword Saint】, was truly wielded for the sake of saving a single man.

Carla Tsukamoto.

Her name in her homeland was Karura Tsukamoto. She was born into a samurai family, her father a renowned master of military strategy and famed as the strongest swordsman alive—the 【Supreme Sword Saint】.

He had stood on more than a hundred battlefields and never once tasted defeat. Not only that. He had never suffered a single wound. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that he was a living legend.

Born as that man’s daughter, Carla was taught the sword. She had talent, yet she was not permitted to walk that path. This was due to the situation in the Eastern nations. The ruling family that had reigned as kings of the various states for many years weakened and lost its authority.

Various factions, proclaiming dominance in pursuit of their own ambitions, launched military campaigns, plunging the entire East into an age of war. Carla’s father, Shinemon Tsukamoto, had been born into a low-ranking samurai household, yet he rose to prominence with nothing but his sword.

In his first battle, he claimed twenty heads. He single-handedly slew enemy generals. He charged alone into open battle, faced a thousand soldiers, and emerged without a scratch. He fought three other 【Sword Saints】 at the same time and cut all of them down with a single stroke each. All of it was reality.

His swordsmanship was so alien, so abnormal, that it defied common sense. With just a sword, he was said to be capable of taking a nation. His unfathomable strength was known throughout the world, on par with platinum-ranked adventurers and the armies of great powers. Naturally, no country would simply leave such a swordsman alone. If eliminating him by force was impossible, then they would just have to bind him to their side.

The most powerful neighboring nation unified the region, and Shinemon Tsukamoto submitted to its banner. The condition was simple: “Build a dojo.” If that was all it took, he was more than happy to comply. He established his dojo, became the founder of the Shinkage Tsukamoto Style, and countless disciples came knocking at his door. Promising swordsmen gathered from across the Eastern nations, and before long, the place became a holy land for swordsmen worldwide.

Such was the living legend who reigned in the modern age. Born as Shinemon Tsukamoto’s daughter, Carla was unquestionably his child. She held a sword by the time she could remember. Growing up watching her father’s back, the sword came naturally to her and a portion of his talent had clearly been passed down to her.

At ten years old, she was undefeated among her peers. At twelve, she cut down a fifteen-year-old youth. At thirteen, she beheaded a swordsman who had already seen real combat. At fourteen, she killed the top disciple of a famous sword master and then cut down the master himself.

Carla had talent. Talent so great that people expected she might one day surpass even her father, Shinemon. Shinemon rejoiced. Before being a parent, he was a swordsman. If a swordsman capable of killing him were to appear, how blissful would that be? To live by the sword meant that to die by the sword was the greatest happiness of all. But…

Carla was a woman. In the Eastern nations, women were expected to bear children and protect the household. The noblewomen did not look kindly upon Carla, who trained alongside men, cut them down, and continued honing her blade. The other warlords felt the same.

No matter how skilled her swordsmanship was, a woman was still a woman. They desired nothing from her beyond her femininity and looked down with contempt on young men who burned with frustration after losing to her. Thus…

Carla left home. She consulted her father, expressed her wish to walk the path of the sword, and received his consent. On the surface, it was said she had rebelled against her father and been disowned, then departed alone for a foreign land. She hunted bandits and bounties, sometimes challenging famous swordsmen.

Earning travel funds as she went, Carla progressed smoothly on her journey and reached the Adventurers’ Guild headquarters within a few years, where she registered as an adventurer. There were several reasons.

First, she could no longer earn enough money to travel. After crossing the continent, most bounties had already been wiped out by adventurers, and even slaying monsters didn’t pay much. With the guild and nations working together to control the economy, strict regulations were imposed on the distribution of goods not sanctioned by either.

On top of that, she could no longer freely test her strength.

Adventurers were managed by the Adventurers’ Guild. What would happen if she challenged such people “to test her skill” or “for training” and cut them down? A subjugation request would be issued immediately, and she would become a bounty target without question. Even Carla, who had devoted her life to the sword, was originally a well-bred young lady, so she understood that much.

Turning the entire world against her was fine in its own way. But not now. She couldn’t win yet. There was nothing to gain. She wasn’t arrogant enough to think she could defeat gold-ranked or platinum-ranked adventurers who would come at her with full intent to kill. So she made her decision. She would become an adventurer, build her strength, and once she had gained sufficient power, she would return home in triumph.

All for the sake of reaching 【Sword Saint】. There were fewer than twenty 【Sword Saints】 in the world. If she became one, she believed she would earn the right to challenge her father and perhaps fill his loneliness as well.

And so she registered as an adventurer, drew attention as a promising newcomer, and at the receptionist’s urging, met the members of a newly forming party. One was a demi-human who hid her  face beneath a hood and made no effort to conceal her dislike of humans. One was a priest with a gentle smile that looked like she’d never killed even an insect, spouting idealistic nonsense that sent chills down her spine. One was a boy clad in rags, carrying a shield larger than his own body.

Feeling irritated as though everything she had built up so far had been ignored by the guild, she blurted out a single remark.

“Don’t get in my way. If you drag me down, I’ll cut you down on the spot.”

A relationship that began with the worst possible first contact had continued all the way to the present.

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Even now, when I think back on it, I was a terrible woman.

Mental focus.

To discipline herself after being shaken and flustered by Finn’s appearance, Carla sat in seiza in her room, eyes closed. Since he himself had asked her not to tell anyone, she had no intention of doing so. And if he was attending the church, she believed he would be fine.

There was another 【Saint】 there, like Marianne—one known as the 【Saint of Rewinding Heavens】, said to possess the greatest healing ability among all saintesses. Her skill was so perfect it looked as though time itself had been reversed, and Carla herself had experienced it once.

It was a divine technique, equal to the works of a god. A lost arm reconstructed itself. Watching bone, flesh, skin—down to the wrinkles of the fingers and the nails—be perfectly restored felt like witnessing a different dimension entirely, far removed from the path of the sword.

And yet…

Finn’s body had not returned to normal. Even before a miracle said to reverse time itself, Finn’s body had not healed. That was unquestionably Carla’s sin. To begin with, it had been two years since they became a gold-ranked adventurer party. It was at that time they took the name 【Dawn】. Before that, they were merely one of many silver-ranked parties.

The catalyst for their rapid rise was an incident that occurred three years ago. At the same time that Carla, Marianne, and Astrea rose to prominence and gained attention among adventurers, Finn Debyura’s body was catastrophically broken. Even now, she remembered it vividly.

It happened in the northern mountain range in winter. During a quest jointly undertaken by several silver-ranked parties, an unidentified monster suddenly intruded. It was an attack by a high-ranking officer of the Demon Lord’s Army. At that time, that Demon Lord’s officer was still not widely known at the time. They didn’t know that officer was among their strongest combatant. The combined party was annihilated in an instant.

Of the roughly twenty participants, only seven survived. And only one could still move…

Finn.

“…!”

Just remembering it made her emotions surge. Her teeth clenched tightly.

Finn fought with everything he had.

Crippled by the cold and heavy snowfall, unable to move freely, Finn endured and was subjected to one-sided torment. His shield was torn away. His arm was broken. He forced himself to grip the shield with that broken arm, and the impact sent bones jutting out as blood and flesh sprayed. As he rolled and tried to stand, the broken arm was torn off. When he stood, he was kicked away again.

Finn tumbled through the snow, blood and flesh scattering, the white ground stained crimson. And then it echoed… A scream soaked in despair.

『Uwaaaaaaah!! Gyaaaaaaah!!』

“……!!”

Finn screamed before her eyes. Yet he never said “stop” or “help me.” He knew he would lose. He knew he would die. Perhaps amused by his continued struggle, the monster chose to torture him slowly and carefully, making sure he wouldn’t die too quickly. Breaking all four limbs, rendering him unable to move, it dragged him deliberately before their eyes and continued the assault. It was a sight that crushed Carla’s spirit…No, everyone’s.

And yet, and yet…! I couldn’t do anything!

Carla couldn’t move. She had lost her dominant arm and believed herself dead as a swordsman. It would be fair to say she had lost her will to fight, able only to cower before the atrocity unfolding before her. Despite everything, Finn continued to rise as if to shield her. Even after his arm was torn off, his legs broken, his abdomen gouged and organs toyed with, he clung to life with inhuman vitality and stood again.

『Protect… I’ll protect… I will… Protect…』

Muttering as he moved, Finn filled Carla with fear. At last, as the monster grew bored of Finn rising with hollow eyes and prepared to deliver the final blow… But then, a raging wind slammed it into the earth.

Astrea, lying motionless, had continued to gather mana. No matter what they did, the enemy had no intention of letting them escape. They knew they would all be tortured, humiliated, and killed. So she remained still, secretly accumulating mana while Finn was being sacrificed. Before Finn died, she had to create an opening. And the one who seized that opening was Marianne.

The 【Holy Smite】 that would later become her trademark. Normally capable of only minor damage to monsters, it responded to Marianne’s wish and became overwhelmingly powerful. The fist hurled toward Astrea amid the raging wind vanished the instant it touched the light. The monster was erased without even time to react. The clouds parted, and the bloodstained snowfield was illuminated by the sun.

The threat was gone. As they stood in shock, a scream rang out. Finn lay completely motionless. Marianne screamed his name. Around them were scattered his organs, blood, flesh down to fragments of bone. Carla could only look at that sight.

Since that day… Since that moment, Carla came to hate her own sword. If all she could do was kill enemies, and she couldn’t even do that, what value did she have?

Sword master? Sword Saint? None of that mattered. The fact that she had been unable to move that day bound her heart in chains. On the first quest after Finn began to recover, Carla bowed before the three of them, pressed her forehead to the ground, and apologized.

It was a dogeza, the deepest form of apology in the Eastern nations. She was truly ashamed of having been unable to do anything. She was sorry for her arrogant attitude until then.

Thank you for protecting me. I survived because of the three of you.

I’ll do anything.

You can even give me the same pain you suffered that day.

I’ll really do anything, if that’s what you want, Finn.

With words spoken in utter submission, Finn replied brightly.

『Then save me next time I’m about to die.』

He didn’t reject her. He was still her comrade. That made her happy, sad, and overwhelmed beyond words. Carla cried right here and there. And thus, the four of them truly became comrades. But…

Even now, Finn continued to push himself recklessly.

“Finn…”

That was entirely due to her own immaturity. If she had possessed her current strength back then, what would have happened? At the very least, her arm wouldn’t have been taken in a single blow. She could have intervened before Finn was driven that far and made the battle viable.

The reason that hadn’t happened was because Carla had failed to fully walk her path. After reforming herself and throwing her energy into party activities, her strength grew rapidly. It didn’t take long before she was called the 【Crimson Sword Saint】.

Which meant.. She hadn’t been serious before. If only she had trusted her companions from the start. If only she had coordinated attacks with Astrea. If only she had faced the world—and herself—honestly.

Regret piled up endlessly. It settled deep within her heart, a weight that would never disappear. Carla Tsukamoto had no intention of returning to her homeland. As long as Finn allowed it—as long as he forgave her—she would remain by his side.

Her life had been saved by Finn. Then it was only natural that she saved his life in return. She was willing to offer everything. She wanted every part of herself, from her fingertips to a single strand of hair, to belong to Finn. That was why she lived.

“…Finn. You must not die.”

What Carla once glimpsed was the pinnacle of swordsmanship. A perfected blade that shook the world. A single sword swing became countless slashes, ravaging the battlefield and creating hell itself. The sight shown by the 【Supreme Sword Saint】 still sat at the summit she aimed for.

She looked at the blood on her hands. Dried and darkened, it was the blood Finn had coughed up moments ago. Staring at it intently, Carla thought to herself.

There would be no second chance. If the same thing happened again, Finn would die. It must not happen. It would never happen. Noble or nation, adventurer or not… God or demon, even if her own father stood against her…

No.

Even if the entire world turned against her, she would protect Finn to the end.

“I love you. I love you, Finn…”

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