I Became The Academy’s Blind Swordsman

Chapter 90: Master of the Purple Moon 

“…Was there a painting here?”

Yorfang felt like she’d been hit over the head with the words.

In a way, it was natural.

As a blind man, he would have no way of knowing if there was a painting in front of him.

“Mmm…”

Yorfang let out a small whimper.

She thought it would be annoying to have someone standing in front of the painting, but it would be much easier if the blind man didn’t even know the painting was there.

Yorfang took a step closer to the painting, leaving the puzzled man behind and from her right hand a thread shoots out.

It moves of its own accord and touches the painting then the slender thread silently lifts it.

It was the power of the magic thread.

“It’s a painting with many figures…It looks like it’s very old, but curiously, the colors haven’t faded.”

Holding the painting in front of her, Yorfang slowly examined it and began to describe it. It was nothing more than a show of her knowledge.

“I see.”

The man with the bandage over his eye, still thinking there was a painting in front of him, nodded, his chin resting on his shoulder as he stared at the empty wall in front of him.

“Hmph…”

Yorfang gives a small laugh, realizing how ridiculous the scene was.

Anyway, she runs her fingers over the painting, checking the material, and marvels.

‘It’s not decades old, is it?’

It was painted hundreds of years ago but it wasn’t cracked or faded, and the canvas was made of the same material as ancient scrolls.

She wondered if the painting itself had some kind of magic to preserve it for so long.

Paintings like this are rare.

Yorfang smiled faintly and took the subspace pouch from her arms. She opened it, and the painting slipped into the tiny pouch.

She then roughly tossed the notice she had prepared onto the floor at the base of the wall where the painting had been. It’s a bit out of order, but it doesn’t really matter since there’s no one to see it.

Yorfang decided to shrug it off as part of the Academy’s treasured possessions.

She glanced at the man next to her who hadn’t even noticed the whole thing, just continued to stare at the wall.

“Anyway… It’s a good painting.”

After saying that, Yorfang casually walked away but her eyes were drawn to the sword at the man’s waist: the jewelry on the hilt, the embroidery of flower petals on the handle.

As a thief, Yorfang had an eye for fine materials and luxuries.

Even to the untrained eye, the sword looked refined and it didn’t take her long to realize how much money had been spent.

Eventually, Yorfang couldn’t stand her nasty ‘habits’.

‘Since the academy is my last, I might as well take one as a bonus…’

As soon as she thought of it, she pulled out a piece of paper and a fountain pen to write a notice.

Normally, this process wouldn’t need to be revealed, but since the man in front of her was blind, she was shamelessly scribbling down the notice right in front of him.

‘How many seconds should I write? Five seconds? Ten seconds…?’

Yorfang presses her lips together with her fountain pen as she deliberates.

‘Ten seconds would be good.’

When Yorfang finished, she folded it up.

The man standing next to her was still silent. His head was turned toward the wall where the painting was.

Yorfang gaze landed on the bandage around his eye once more and she scratched her head.

‘…Doesn’t the notice mean nothing?’

He won’t be able to read it, so it’s useless.

Yorfang pondered this simple thought for a moment but just then, he turned and looked at her.

“You haven’t spoken since earlier….Are you still here?”

As he tilts his head, the moonlight catches the sword at his waist and the jewel on the hilt shines brightly.

Watching this Yorfang makes a decision.

‘So what?’

He’s just unlucky.

It’s a belief she’s held since her days in the slums, and it’s not like…

Even if he can’t read it, others will read it to him later.

“The… Your tie is a little off, excuse me…”

There was nothing wrong with his tie, it was immaculate, but she approached him as if she were going to fix it.

“…Thank you.”

The man smiles at her kindness as she ties his tie.

‘Why are you so unnecessarily handsome when you’re blindfolded…?’

Watching the man very closely, Yorfang blushes slightly as she admires his handsomeness, but she is doing her ‘job’ after all.

Yorfang slipped the notice into his arms.

‘If it weren’t for the cadets…’

When it was all said and done, Yorfang let go of his tie and stepped back.

“It’s done.”

As she said this, a thread slipped from Yorfang’s cuff and touched his sword.

As she watched the man bow his head in gratitude, Yorfang was pleased with the cleanliness of the end.

“Until next time, then.”

As she turned and walked out of the hallway with a quick goodbye, she counted.

Ten seconds passed, and the sword that had sprung from the threads was suddenly at her side.

As she examined it, she realized that the money had been spent as she had expected.

Why this man, barely a cadet, was wearing such an expensive sword was beyond her, but she’d heard that the Academy attracted some of the most stellar people, so she stopped caring.

Luckily, the owner of this uniform was also a swordsman, and he had a belt around his waist for his sword. A sword at her waist would make her act more natural as a cadet.

Yorfang glanced behind her and the man was looking at her….Or rather, his head was turned in her direction.

‘At this distance, I can’t hear a thing.’

As she reaches for the sword to examine the blade, she comes to a question.

‘But why was he staring at the wall when he didn’t even realize there was a painting there…?’

It’s not a big deal, but it’s a faint suspicion.

At the same time, Yorfang’s hand touches the hilt and was about to draw the sword to check the blade.

The sound of the sword being pulled from its scabbard was heard and her vision blurred for a moment.

***

Yorfang, who had been clutching her head, came to her senses.

Blinking hard, she slowly turned her head and looked around.

The first thing he saw was…

‘…the moon?’

A huge full moon was visible in front of her but it felt very foreign.

The moon’s position was too close. Especially the color of the moon that dazzled her eyes was unreal.

‘A purple moon…’

…Such a thing doesn’t exist in this world.

Yorfang’s foot, which had been moving casually, touched the water, causing a sound to echo in the silent space.

There was a very shallow pool of water at the bottom.

The water that filled this vast, endless space was calm and reflected the dark night sky and the moon on the surface.

The atmosphere was indescribably dreamy when suddenly Yorfang shook her head. No, she shook it vigorously.

It was too foreign to be real, but the sensation of water on her feet was all too real.

As her head grew foggy, Yorfang gritted her teeth and tried to stay calm.

She had met a blind swordsman and stolen his sword…and now she was in this situation.

Sure enough, she was walking down a dark hallway.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew in from behind Yorfang, and a thick purple smoke enveloped her.

She quickly covered her mouth and nose from the unidentifiable smoke.

“It’s huge…”

Yorfang moved her legs to get out of the smoke. But the smoke wouldn’t let her go, so she ran and ran and ran. It was the best she could do in a situation where she didn’t understand what was going on.

“Fuha…!”

Yorfang somehow made it through the smoke and collapsed on the ground.

She let out the breath she’d been holding and inhaled deeply.

Immediately, Yorfang’s eyes catch a glimpse of her own distorted reflection hovering above the rippling surface.

How did this happen, how did this happen, for what reason?

She couldn’t figure it out.

The sound of wading through the water came from the other side and Yorfang quickly looked up in the direction of the sound.

Standing on the water was a woman.  She had long, dark hair and was dressed in blood-red Eastern robes, and around her was a sinister, violet smoke.

The woman approached her slowly and with each step, the water rippled and touched her wrists, which were gripping the floor. Then the woman’s lips part.

“You are an unexpected guest.”

A voice, both strong and soft, pierces Yorfang ears.

The woman’s eyes, the same color as the moon in the sky, meet her own and Yorfang instinctively realizes that she was the owner of this space.

“Ah…”

A stuttered word escapes Yorfang’s mouth. She was feeling ‘fear’.

Her body froze, and she hadn’t moved in a long time.

Flee?

Is there a way out?

Fight?

The overwhelming sense of dread was such that none of those options were available to her.

She could only accept her fate.

Eventually, the woman came close to her.

Yorfang kept her head down, not daring to make eye contact, but the woman’s hand lifted her chin.

“Uh……Uh…”

The look in her eyes urged her to say something, to apologize, but no words came out.

The woman’s lips slowly opened as she stared at her, her eyes fluttering wildly.

“No matter how insensitive his ‘master’ is…I did not ask for this…even if it was such a terrible fate.”

Yorfang could not make out the meaning of the words since it sounded like the woman’s lament.

“This is unpleasant.”

The woman’s next words echoed in his ears as she released her grip on her chin.

“Go away.”

The woman turns her back on her then an unintelligible sound hits Yorfang’s shoulder.

Something sharp cuts through the air and falls into the water, it was Yorfang’s arm.

Blood leaked from her arm as it hit the bottom, staining the crystal clear water red.

Yorfang wanted to scream, but the woman immediately cut her throat.

“…!!!”

Yorfang was sliced to pieces by a hail of swords from nowhere.

She could barely move his fingertips, and she let out a muffled cry of pain as the attacks continued unabated.

Turning away, as if unable to bear the sight, the woman stares up at the moon.

“For she is the ‘sword’ of only one man…”

***

I approached Yorfang, who was writhing on the ground, clutching my Spectral Sword.

As I got closer, I realized she was in pretty bad shape.

She was covered in foam, writhing, and completely engulfed in the spirit energy that was spewing from the Spectral Sword.

Her eyes were open, but she didn’t appear to be conscious.

Sierra’s spirit energy had only been refined through the seal, not lost.

“Sierra” was a state that belonged to me and if someone touched it in that state they would be consumed by it.

As soon as she grasped the sword, Sierra’s form vanished.

Yorfang had probably entered Sierra’s mind or something.

“Mmm… Mmm…”

Yorfang finally opens her mouth and lets out a groan of despair.

I don’t know what’s happening to her, but it looks like she’s in a lot of pain.

I pried Sierra out of Yorfang’s hands. If she was left alone, her mind might completely break down.

Yorfang’s body, which had been shaking violently, calmed down. Then Sierra slithers out of the sword. Her exquisite violet eyes are unusually bright today.

As soon as Sierra exited the sword, she crashed into me and I pointed to Yorfang, who lay stunned with her eyes open.

“What did you do…?”

Sierra, looking back and forth between me and Yorfang, covers her mouth somewhat.

[…I was merely saying hello to her.]

Sierra’s eyes narrowed as she said this, and I could tell it was a lie.

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