Academy’s Genius Swordmaster
Academy’s Genius Swordmaster - Chapter 67: Jhordin (2)

Chapter 67: Jhordin (2)

Ronan’s face stiffened. He had only been expecting maybe a year at most, but twenty years? It was enough time for those bald men who went around the world destroying everything to have a family, build a house, and settle down.

Ronan was about to say something when Jhordin, who had been sitting silently, spoke up.

“…No, it won’t take that long.”

“Hmm?”

“There was resilience in your mana blood. Depending on the efforts you put in, it could be shortened further.”

“Hmm, if you say so, then it must be true. In that case, I’ll need to create a separate training method. Just saying this child is unique isn’t enough.”

“Yes. That’s… frustrating.”

Sigh!

Jhordin, who was trying to sit up, hesitated and sat back down. It seemed strength hadn’t fully returned to his legs yet. Ronan reached out his hand and said,

“Do you need a hand?”

“Forget it. I’ll just do it here.”

Suddenly, Jhordin sat cross-legged. He closed his eyes with both hands resting on his knees.

Suaaah- Strange breathing sounds began to escape from Jhordin’s slightly parted lips. Sekreet’s eyes sparkled with interest.

“Oh, have you already come up with something?”

“It’s not accurate yet, but the rough structure should be right.”

“His genius remains unchanged. Truly worthy of Manwol’s Full moon tower top mage”

“It’s just pointless history.”

Ronan smirked. Based on how Jhordin was sitting, it seemed like a simple posture for mana cultivation, so he couldn’t understand why he was so impressed. Jhordin looked at him and said,

“Sit with your back to me, in the same position.”

Ronan did as he was told. Jhordin placed his hands on both sides of Ronan’s shoulder blades. Remembering the recent events just a few minutes ago, Ronan asked with an uneasy voice,

“You’re not going to make blood spurt out again, right?”

“Probably. Prepare yourself, I will open your senses again.”

“Yes? Wait a moment…”

Quang!

The shock struck again, spreading through his veins. Ronan clenched his teeth. His toes were curling up like a squid caught in a net.

“Damn it…!”

For a moment, he had the urge to neatly split Jhordin’s body in half. Although the pain was much milder than the two previous times, the fiery sensation still couldn’t be avoided.

Ronan turned his head. Jhordin’s face came into view, his bloodshot eyes wide open. Seeing him enduring pain several times worse than his own, Ronan forgot what he was about to say.

“Shit, are you okay?”

“Phew… yeah. Is it very painful?”

“It’s annoying, but I can bear it. This time the pain is lasting longer.”

Ronan frowned in displeasure. If the pain he had experienced up to now had rushed in and disappeared in an instant, this pain was lingering, stabbing at his whole body.

“Good, that’s normal.”

Jhordin sighed with relief. He slowly moved his numb fingers and continued speaking.

“The maximum amount of mana you can currently utilize is roughly 0.01 Langstol.”

“Even if you say that, I don’t know what it means.”

“Just understand that it’s ridiculously low. If the average amount of mana a sword user wields is a cup of water, yours is just about as much as an ant’s spit.”

“…Didn’t you say it wouldn’t take that long?”

Ronan furrowed his brows. He was afraid of what would come next. He couldn’t maintain his composure when he heard lines like ‘Right, it won’t take 20 years, maybe around 17 years.’

But Jhordin was a much more knowledgeable and capable person than Ronan had thought.

“That’s right. You’re already making progress with your efforts. You could fill up 20 years, but if you do well, you could finish it within 5 years.”

“Five years… that’s quite hopeful. What do I have to do?”

“The most basic thing is to practice the mana cultivation method I’ll teach you from now on, every day.”

Ronan’s lips twisted hearing the term ‘mana cultivation.’ It was the subject he expected to receive the only failing grade in Philleon. He had become accustomed to the looks of pity and disappointment from Professors, with equal parts sympathy and disdain.

“…I’ve never succeeded in mana cultivation before, is that okay?”

“That’s what happens when incompetent people teach. If you do as I say, it’s possible.”

“You sounded a bit cool just now. I feel like I’m starting to understand why you’re friends with the Professors.”

“From now on, I’ll infuse mana into your body. Remember the flow of mana even if it’s a bit painful.”

Remember the flow? Before he could mention it, Jhordin released mana. Precisely measured for Ronan’s thin mana veins, a minuscule amount of mana flowed through his bloodstream.

“Ugh…!”

“Concentrate.”

Ronan involuntarily shuddered. It was a strange sensation, as if washing the inside of his body with water.

The mana entering through his back spread throughout his body and converged in his heart. From the heart, the mana that had been pulsating flowed through his veins and reached his fingertips and earlobes.

Ronan understood Jhordin’s words about remembering the flow. Mana wasn’t haphazardly moving, but flowing with its own direction.

“Do you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now circulate it. Inhale and exhale slowly, gathering and releasing mana.”

Jhordin explained the breathing technique and continued to infuse mana. Ronan adjusted his breathing intervals as Jhordin instructed. Soon, eerie wind-like sounds began to emerge from his mouth. Suaaah-

“This is…!”

“It’s fine. Remember that sensation. Do you have a rough idea of the direction mana is flowing?”

“Uh… kind of.”

“Give it a try.”

Jhordin removed his hands from Ronan’s back. Ronan moved the remaining mana in his body along the path he had just felt. His breathing sound changed once again. Jhordin muttered in amazement.

“You memorized it all at once… You’ll receive a lot of Navirose’s love.”

“It’s a really strange feeling. Is this mana cultivation?”

“That’s right. It’s a mana cultivation method meaningful only to you.”

Jhordin stood up. His already pale face became even paler. Walking unsteadily, he reached for the water bottle on Sekreet’s desk and gulped it down in one go.

“Puh… Repeat that every day. It might be a bit bothersome now, but once you get used to it, you’ll be able to practice even while moving or speaking.”

“Without Professor’s assistance?”

“Yeah. I injected my mana to help you quickly get accustomed to the sensation. The mana you need will naturally seep into your body just by breathing. So you don’t need to make any effort to absorb mana separately. Not yet, at least.”

At that moment, the mana circulating within Jhordin dissipated. Ronan controlled his mana by inhaling and exhaling, just as he had learned.

Suaaah-

Sensing the mana flowing through his veins once again, Ronan opened his eyes wide.

“So, this is mana…”

It was a touching moment. Despite being described as a tiny amount of mana, it wasn’t that important.

What mattered was that from now on, he could manipulate and feel mana. The path to mastering the sword, and even further, the path to enlightenment, had opened up.

It was only now that Ronan understood why Sekreet was so shocked. Jhordin had developed a mana cultivation method optimized specifically for him in that short amount of time. With a wry smile, Ronan said,

“Thank you, Professor. Seriously.”

“It’s fine. I guess today’s session will end here…”

Jhordin looked at his trembling hands. He took a deep breath and continued.

“Alright, since I kept my promise, you should keep yours too.”

“Promise?”

“About the ring. Since mana extraction will be done quickly, hurry up and…”

“Professor!”

Thud!

Jhordin couldn’t finish his sentence and collapsed. Thanks to Adeshan’s swift reaction, his head didn’t hit the ground. Ronan quickly stood him up and shook his shoulders, shouting,

“Damn it, wake up!”

“Ring… that ring…”

Still sprawled out on the ground, Jhordin mumbled incoherently.

Ronan, spoke with a perplexed tone.

“No, really, what’s wrong? I’m giving it to you.”

“R-ring… that ring…”

“Why is sekreet acting like this all of a sudden? Is it because of the curse again?”

“It’s temporary exhaustion due to the aftereffects of the curse and a momentary impulse disorder. I’ve been wondering how long it would take for this to happen.”

“What, then you knew he was about to collapse and still didn’t stop?”

“Because he’s not the type to listen even if I tell him.”

Jhordin continued to chant about the ring in a mosquito-like voice. Seeing him repeat the same words without focus, it seemed like a kind of madness. Sekreet touched his chin gently and spoke.

“Is that ring something he needs for his research?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I see. I guess he still hasn’t given up yet—.”

“Is he sick or something? It sounds weird to say this, but it seems like he’s thinking about money a bit too much.”

“There are circumstances behind it. He wasn’t always like this.”

Sekreet’s eyes held a profound sense of pity as he looked at Jhordin. After a moment of silence, he let out a deep sigh.

“…For now, we can’t leave him like this. Let’s take him to the infirmary or something. We’ll continue this conversation later.”

“I suppose that’s what we should do.”

Ronan lifted Jhordin. They walked back along the corridor to Jhordin’s office. When they turned their heads, the passage leading to Sepharachio had disappeared as if it had never been there. Adeshan said,

“The nearest infirmary is in Lexion Hall. Let’s go quickly.”

“Fortunately, it’s not too far.”

Ronan nodded. The locks were still open. It was when he reached for the doorknob.

Out of nowhere, Jhordin’s right arm shot up.

Clang clang!

All seven locks snapped shut simultaneously, sealing the entrance. Startled, the two of them took a step back.

“Hey, what’s this surprise? What are you doing all of a sudden?”

“It won’t be long… I will… meet you… again…”

“What are you saying?”

“Long-lived race… found a clue… I won’t send you away… beloved…”

Jhordin was muttering something. Unlike a little while ago, where he was fixated on the ring, his incoherent babbling now revolved around vague thoughts that seemed to pop up in his mind. He seemed like someone deeply intoxicated by alcohol.

‘Is this also a type of impulse disorder?’

Somehow, it seemed like the situation was getting worse. Ronan, who had regained his composure, cautiously unlocked the first lock. Jhordin raised his arm again.

Clang!

The lock firming up again made Ronan curse in frustration.

“What the hell are you trying to do now?”

“The ring… the…”

“Damn it, he’s really losing it. Sunbae, try to knock him out or something.”

“Knock… out?”

“Well, that might be necessary, but we should get him to the infirmary even if we have to do that. He’s not in his right mind.”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

Adeshan examined Jhordin’s complexion. His pale pupils still shook without focus. Amidst his nonsensical rambling, he suddenly mumbled like a child.

“…Want to go back.”

“What?”

Sensing the flow of mana, Ronan turned his head. In that instant, the previously empty office floor began to move.

The stone tiles rearranged themselves, creating a spiral staircase leading downward. Ronan and Adeshan stared at this strange sight, frozen in place.

“What’s going on?”

“I have no idea.”

They approached the staircase. From the dark lower floor, an indescribable smell wafted up. It was a mixture of books, ink, metallic tang, and an unknown floral scent. Jhordin, who had been muttering incomprehensible phrases, let out a bewildered gasp.

“Go down…”

“What? Are you back to your senses?”

“Go down. Roses suit you better than tulips.”

“Damn it.”

Ronan furrowed his brow. Jhordin still didn’t seem entirely coherent. He continued to repeat the phrase urging them to go down. Eventually, Ronan gave in and placed his foot on the staircase.

“Is this okay…?”

“It’ll be alright.”

Ronan began descending the stone staircase. Adeshan, hesitating for a moment, followed behind him.

As they walked through the darkness, suddenly, the surroundings brightened. Ronan and Adeshan simultaneously looked up. Light emanated from a large, transparent glass container.

“Where did you get that?”

“I just picked up what was on the desk.”

“That’s the readiness of a general.”

The shadows created by the candles were dancing on the stairs. They reached the bottom floor before long. There was an incomparably wider space than the office. Ronan murmured as if he was at a loss.

“No wonder it felt smaller on the inside compared to how it looked from the outside…”

As they descended the stairs, they suddenly realized that the floor was covered in books. The scene looked like a book tomb, with books strewn about like corpses and stacked in bundles. Adeshan stumbled and staggered.

“Watch out!”

“Be careful, do you want me to hold your hands?”

“Uh, yeah…”

With his left hand supporting Jhordin, Ronan extended his right hand. After a moment of hesitation, Adeshan grabbed it. Together, they walked deeper into the tomb of books.

“Can you smell the floral fragrance from over there?”

“Come to think of it…”

It was as Ronan said. A thick scent of flowers was wafting from the darkness. They were on their way along the path of smell. Jhordin, who had been silent for a while, murmured softly.

“Look…”

In an instant, the area in front of them brightened. Ronan and Adeshan simultaneously looked up. Light was pouring out from a large, transparent glass container. Both of their eyes widened.

“A woman?”

“Th- this is…!”

Inside a glass tube filled with a clear liquid, a naked woman stood with her eyes closed.

“Is she dead…?”

She was a beautiful woman, with flowing auburn hair that resembled fine grass. No bubbles rose from her lips, which were pressed together as if she were holding her breath.

“What the hell is this…”

In front of the glass coffin was a pile of roses. Most of them were wilted or withered, but the ones on top were as fresh as if they’d been picked today.

A couple of steps away, there stood an old bed, a desk, and a chair. Ronan’s gaze suddenly landed on the book spread out on the desk.

The thick tome, thick enough to be used as a pillow, had become so worn that even turning the next page required determination. Ronan cautiously picked up the book.

On the half-cracked cover was a large scrawl of what he assumed to be the title. Ronan read it slowly.

“On… resurrection…?”