I Can See the Sword’s Memories

Chapter 45: The Adenia Pursuit (2)

Splash—

The oppressive warmth of the forest was due to the hot springs flowing beneath the ground. Countless streams of unknown origin spread throughout the woods, radiating heat.

I covered my nose with my sleeve. The peculiar stench of sulfur, mingled with the steamy air, was unpleasant—reminiscent of rotting eggs.

This place hasn’t seen much human activity.

I scanned my surroundings. There were no signs of a well-trodden path or human presence. 

In places frequented by people, larger roads would naturally form over time.

Here, only narrow animal trails existed. Following these tracks, I could deduce the general direction of movement and estimate the size of the creatures inhabiting this forest.

As I navigated the forest paths, I noticed faint markings etched into trees. At first glance, they resembled claw marks left by animals. 

However, I quickly recognized them as symbols used by the Karma Empire’s intelligence agents.

The claw-like scars on the trees pointed in a specific direction, marking the path. I recalled the brief conversation before entering the forest.

“One of our informants went missing while tracking the Reincarnator.”

It seemed these marks were left by that agent. I followed the trail, pressing forward despite the humid and sticky air that grated on my nerves.

My small stature was an advantage in this environment. I slipped easily through thick underbrush, untouched by the branches that might hinder someone larger. I advanced using the trails created by smaller animals.

The occasional encounters with wild predators posed no significant threat. Animals of the wild naturally recognize strength. 

Even without overt hostility, they sense the aura of a seasoned killer—faint traces of bloodshed lingering in my presence.

Those without the instinct to survive perish quickly. Such is the law of nature. The predators I locked eyes with crouched low, waiting for me to pass.

Crunch—

My steps came to a halt as I faced a curious sight: a bone totem crafted from the remains of an animal. Vines harvested from the forest had been braided to create a rope binding the structure together.

It resembled the ceremonial tools used by shamans of my tribe.

No wild animal could craft such an object, nor would it be something left by the Empire’s intelligence agents.

This was undoubtedly a creation of the Reincarnator.

I refrained from approaching the totem recklessly. My own experiences and the knowledge I had gained at headquarters taught me that objects made by Reincarnators often contained strange powers.

Hoo…

Closing my eyes, I focused my mind. The mana swirling near my heart extended outward, carrying a sharp chill as it radiated from my body.

Expanding my senses, I used a technique derived from the Imperial Sword Style. Rather than dominating the space, I widened my perception. 

The flow of air, the movements of insects, and the direction of streams coursing through the ground all became clear.

I could feel the faint, ominous energy emanating from the totem.

It’s a trap.

Relying on my heightened senses, I drew my sword and swung. A brilliant white slash tore through the air, severing the sinister totem in a single stroke.

No sound followed. The totem fell apart silently, pieces scattering across the ground. A faint flame flickered above the remnants before vanishing.

I had heard that Reincarnators wield necromancy—a technique that binds the dead to this realm, drawing power from their spirits.

Some compared it to the shamanic magic of the Astinians, but I saw no similarity. Shamanic magic relies on communion with spirits, requiring their cooperation. Without such communion, a shaman is powerless.

Necromancy, however, forcibly draws strength from the deceased.

Disgusting power.

The dead deserve rest. Necromancy’s practice of summoning spirits from the afterlife to exploit their strength filled me with revulsion.

The deeper I ventured into the forest, the more frequent the appearance of eerie totems became. 

Sometimes, grotesque figures—crafted using corpses as vessels—staggered aimlessly, trapped between life and death.

I stared down one such abomination: a beast with its abdomen ripped open, entrails spilling out, yet its limbs still moved.

This was far from the only one. These undead creatures appeared repeatedly. 

Behind me, the trail was littered with the decaying remains of beasts I had cut down.

Severing limbs or injuring their torsos wasn’t enough. Even without muscles, they crawled forward on bare bones. Headless, they kept moving.

I had to tear apart their limbs and scatter their bodies entirely to stop them.

They said the Reincarnator experimented with necromancy using human corpses. 

The thought of my fallen comrades buried beneath the snowy plains rising again sent a chill down my spine.

Disgusting.

Such a creature should not exist. I quickened my pace.

As I paused for a brief rest, sitting on a large rock, a small bird landed on a tree branch across from me.

Whoosh—

A silent slash tore through the steamy haze, cutting the bird cleanly in two. Frost settled on the branch as the bird’s severed body fell to the ground.

Splash—

Even with its body split in half, the bird continued to move, flapping its wings and glaring at me with crimson eyes. 

Beyond the bird, I felt an unsettling presence—not the bird’s, but the gaze of something human.

“Are you watching me?”

There was no response, not that I expected one. Rising from my seat, I scanned my surroundings.

My keen senses picked up the movements of animals large and small. Rats, snakes, and small birds—normally, I wouldn’t have paid them much attention. But now, I couldn’t afford to ignore them.

They could serve as the Reincarnator’s eyes, constantly tracking my position. That suggested unease. The Reincarnator was somewhere nearby, likely within this area.

If they can’t act directly, they aren’t strong…

The Empire’s intelligence bureau must have reached the same conclusion, which explained why only a single mid-level operative—me—had been dispatched.

Adopting a different approach, I lowered my posture and altered my breathing technique, aligning my movements with those of a predator. Like a hunter traversing snowy plains, I adjusted my mindset and actions.

My body moved swiftly, scaling a tree with ease. My small frame allowed me to execute feats beyond human limits without strain. 

Since mastering mana, the physical constraints of my body had all but vanished.

Even fragile branches didn’t snap beneath my weight. When necessary, I released small bursts of mana to lighten myself further.

Jumping from tree to tree, I expanded my sensory field. As I changed my method of movement, the forest seemed to respond in kind. Animals large and small began to stir, moving collectively as if chasing me.

I focused on the movement, tracing the faint, sinister energy to its source.

Flap! Flap!

Birds swarmed in from all directions, spreading their wings and slashing at me with their claws to block my path. They were formidable but incapable of stopping me.

A light slash unleashed a gust of white wind, severing their wings mid-flight.

The closer I got to the source, the more undead creatures I encountered. 

Their numbers increased exponentially, and the stench of decaying flesh permeated the air. 

Symbols etched in blood emerged on trees and rocks throughout the forest.

These eerie, glowing symbols undoubtedly played a role in sustaining the necromancy.

Reaching into my coat, I pulled out a small pen. It wasn’t designed as a throwing weapon, but it was the most suitable tool I had on hand.

Hoo…

Chilling mana coursed through my body, racing to my fingertips. When the frosty energy coalesced at the pen’s tip, I hurled it with precision.

Whoosh—!

The pen spun swiftly, striking a large tree and exploding on impact. The ink splattered outward, smearing over the glowing crimson symbols etched into the bark.

It was then that a bird flew toward me, its approach steady and unthreatening. It maintained a cautious distance before speaking with a human voice.

[Stop!]

Stopping was never an option for me. As I slowly raised the hand gripping my sword, the bird hurriedly continued.

[W-Wait! Let’s negotiate!]

“Negotiate?”

[Yes, a negotiation!]

Even as I conversed with the bird, I maintained my expanded sensory field. If my focus wavered, the reach of my mana would contract. It was a reminder that I still had much to refine.

The entire forest seemed to hold its breath. Tilting my head slightly, I replied, “Speak. What terms do you propose?”

[A reasonable one. Leave this forest immediately, and I’ll remove the evil spirit clinging to your body.]

My eyebrow twitched sharply. An evil spirit clinging to me? The notion wasn’t unfamiliar.

“Can you see souls?”

[Of course. I can see it clearly. Another soul is bound to your body. It may be lying dormant now, but eventually, it will try to claim your flesh. You’ve noticed it, haven’t you? Your body refuses to grow.]

“Is that the reason for my stunted growth?”

[The body grows in tandem with the soul. When the bond between them is misaligned, physical abnormalities are inevitable.]

“You know quite a bit. But why should I trust you?”

[We can conduct a soul pact. If I break a vow sworn upon my soul, it will—]

I let the Reincarnator’s words drift past me. My heightened senses had detected a subtle movement—a heartbeat, the flow of blood through veins, the faint rustle of fabric brushing against skin.

Without hesitation, I kicked off the ground.

[W-Wait!]

The desperate plea echoed behind me, but I paid it no mind. My small frame dashed forward unrelentingly, frost forming beneath each step.

The charge was draconic in nature, a blizzard-like aura erupting from my body, carving a straight, icy path ahead.

Boom!

I came to a stop and turned to look back. A robed figure stood clutching their chest where their heart should have been, blood spilling from their mouth.

“Gah…”

The strike had pierced their chest in a single blow. Survival was impossible.

I gazed coldly at the collapsing Reincarnator. He had dared to call my sister’s soul an evil spirit. Someone who understood nothing of her dared to speak so.

“The evil spirit… it will… devour you…!”

The Reincarnator’s fading voice carried an eerie power, a final curse uttered before death.

In that moment, I felt it—a force radiating from within, a presence pushing back against the approaching energy. For a fleeting instant, the sensations of my body grew faint.

“Saeran…?”

The name escaped my lips in a dazed murmur, dissolving into the still air.

I pulled my sister’s body—our shared form—into a tight embrace.

“So you were there all along…”