“You’re lying, Sien.”
Laila spoke, her gaze piercing as if she could see right through to his heart.
“The First Stance you’re practicing has already far surpassed the level I taught you.”
“No one could reach such a stage after just a single year of training.”
She was right. The perfection of the First Stance Sien displayed when he overwhelmed the formal knights in the training hall, and his ability to observe the ‘Wraith’s Stance’ personally performed by the Mother of Assassin. These were skills no novice, just starting to learn the family sword, should possess.
“When did you manage to reach that level?”
“Ever since the day of my baptism, I’ve spent every day and night in the family’s library, reading every sword manual and scroll about the First Stance I could find.”
Sien replied.
“This sword style is the most familiar to me, and the one that speaks to my heart.”
“The Wraith’s Stance is the simplest and most modest of sword forms.”
Laila said.
“It isn’t flashy, and unlike the other seven sword styles, there’s nothing complicated or grandiose about its techniques.”
A sword art that erases one’s own presence. There was no room for any extravagance in it.
“Can I ask why you’re especially interested in such a ‘boring sword style’?”
“The other seven sword styles are ultimately for killing others.”
“So you’re saying the Wraith’s Stance is different?”
“Yes.”
“In what way?”
Laila asked again, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
“This sword is not meant for killing others, but for killing oneself.”
Sien answered. Laila’s eyes flickered with surprise at those words.
A sword for killing oneself. The ultimate art of erasing one’s own existence—assassination in its purest form.
Could this young child already have grasped the essence of this sword style?
“I didn’t particularly intend to hide my skill from you, Mother. But…”
Sien continued.
“Even before I learned this sword style from you, I already knew how to ‘become a wraith’.”
Raised as the criminal guild’s hound, living as a child assassin who survived by thoroughly killing his own sense of self.
“I see.”
A satisfied smile appeared on Laila’s lips.
Of course, she hadn’t completely let go of her suspicions.
Still, Laila chose not to press further. It was as if she didn’t care whether Sien was lying or not.
“The First Stance is the simplest, but that makes it all the more profound. You must never grow lazy in your practice until the very end. Even someone like me must abide by that.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Within the history of the Nightwalker Family, only four have ever attained the rank of Grandmaster—one of them being the Mother of Assassin herself.
“But since you’ve already mastered the First Stance to this extent, it might not be a bad idea to pause and start learning another style now.”
“Which sword style?”
“The Ninth Stance—”
The last of the original Ahom Sword Style stances.
Even Sien found this unexpected. In the family, it was common to learn the Ahom Sword Style stances in order.
“Why teach me the most complicated and difficult Ninth Stance first?”
Laila ignored Sien’s question and continued.
“[Kraken Stance]—”
A sword form named after the massive cephalopod-shaped sea monster of the northern seas. Strictly speaking, this form wasn’t even a sword technique.
As Laila slowly spread her arms, something began to float around her.
Daggers hidden under her cloak, in her sleeves, and all over her body began to move on their own, even though her hands never touched them.
Eight daggers, just like the legs of an octopus.
The eight blades slid toward Sien as if they were living tentacles.
Whoosh!
Blades flew at him from all sides, swallowing up his path like a kraken devouring a ship.
Those swords moved by the power of magic.
— First-tier Telekinesis spell [Invisible Hand].
By controlling multiple blades through telekinesis, the movement mimicked the kraken slowly tightening and swallowing up a ship—hence the name.
If the Wraith’s Stance was the simplest yet paradoxically deepest of sword forms, then the Kraken Stance demanded a horrifying level of precision and technique.
To grip and wield the hilts with the invisible hands of magic, strictly speaking, wasn’t even within the realm of swordsmanship.
It was magic swordsmanship.
The hand moved by magic could never be as precise as one’s true hand. Yet, to manipulate eight invisible hands simultaneously, making them move like a master swordsman—such a feat bordered on the impossible.
But for the assassins of the Nightwalker Family, that was not the case.
Especially not for Sien, the purest of the purebloods, whose body was nearly perfect.
From the moment of his mana awakening, Sien’s body was optimized to use both magic and aura in tandem, so as he released mana, he cast the first-tier telekinesis spell, ‘Invisible Hand.’
What he controlled with those magical hands was not his own blade.
Instead, Sien snatched Laila’s eight daggers, which had been flying toward him.
Snap!
The eight flying daggers stopped in midair. Their tips reversed, now pointing toward Laila.
Sien controlled the eight invisible hands.
He seized the flying blades with telekinesis, stealing them with the same power.
“Very impressive.”
Laila watched Sien’s counterattack and smiled in satisfaction. Just then, the daggers flying toward her stopped in midair.
This time, it was Laila’s ‘Invisible Hand’ that snatched back Sien’s daggers.
“Remember this. When you perform this stance, you are the rider controlling the Kraken. Never let go of the blades in your hand.”
“How do I do that?”
“Grip the kraken’s reins tightly, and kill your opponent before they slip away.”
Once again, the daggers caught by Laila’s telekinesis shifted direction, and, just as before, shot toward Sien.
Whoosh!
Once more, he deflected them.
— But in that instant, as the blades surged toward him, they suddenly changed direction and trajectory, evading Sien’s invisible hands.
He failed to catch them.
With that, the eight daggers began to pierce down at him from all directions in rapid, overlapping patterns.
There was no pause. Laila’s manipulation was so irregular and unpredictable, Sien had no time to focus his senses and try again with his invisible hands.
With no other choice, Sien dodged desperately.
The Mother of Assassin watched her son with a single finger unmoving, but the eight daggers she controlled did not relent.
Even most high-ranking magicians could not intervene when she used her ‘Invisible Hand’ in earnest.
The Ahom Sword Style wasn’t limited to aura-based martial arts or sword techniques.
To sever their targets’ lives, they would use any method or means available.
A marvel bordering on supernatural ability—transcending even the bounds of technique and form.
The eight daggers in Laila’s ‘Invisible Hand’ closed in on Sien, as if tightening around him.
Sh-shk!
It was like the kraken’s tentacles winding in from all sides—an optical illusion.
But Sien, moving even faster, kicked off the ground and rushed straight at the Mother of Assassin before him.
Kraken Stance, among the family’s sword styles, required the most complexity and technique, yet for all that, it contained one critical, fatal flaw compared to the other eight stances.
To counter this style, you needed no elaborate technique.
Just one thing—to close the distance.
There was no need to slay the monstrous beast of the sea. Simply aim for the rider atop the beast.
Controlling multiple blades with invisible hands—when the distance closed, even a master assassin wielding the Ninth Stance could not defend themselves perfectly.
When facing blades swung before your eyes to kill you, nothing is more reliable than a sword gripped in your own real hand.
Invisible hands are, after all, invisible. They can never match the precision of actual hands.
That was the greatest weakness of the Ninth Stance.
It boasted overwhelming superiority in offense, but was, conversely, woefully inadequate in defense.
To use the Ninth Stance at close range against an equal or stronger opponent who refused to allow you to maintain distance—it was no different than suicide.
That was why, just as Laila had done in the past, Sien had never tried to master the Ninth Stance.
The targets of the Nightwalker Family’s assassins were never small fry. The ones they had to kill were usually equals or true strongmen.
Before he knew it, Sien had closed the distance, thrusting his sword at Laila.
At the same time, the eight daggers controlled by Laila stopped right in front of Sien’s vital points.
“One blade, eight blades, or a thousand blades—for taking a single life, it’s always more than enough.”
Laila smiled in satisfaction at Sien’s response.
As if saying this was a perfect, textbook answer.
Of course, if Laila had truly used the Kraken Stance at full power, Sien would never have been able to close the gap so easily.
The gap between the current Sien and Laila was beyond any comparison.
But this was not real combat. Laila was merely teaching her son.
“That’s why this stance boasts the deadliest power of all Ahom Sword Styles, but it also contains an equally deadly flaw.”
“Its defense is extremely weak, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“Then why do you want to teach me this sword style first?”
Sien asked.
“If I’m facing a true strongman who never allows me to close the gap, isn’t this style useless?”
“That may be true.”
Laila shrugged.
“But don’t you think it might suit you?”
“Suit me…?”
What did she mean?
Even Sien could not truly understand her meaning, and asked again.
“Just imagine.”
Laila continued, nodding as if delighted.
“You, who have mastered the sword that kills oneself and the strongest shield more completely than anyone, wielding the sword called the strongest spear.”
The Kraken Stance specialized entirely in offense. Paradoxically, it became weakest of all when the distance was closed.
The First Stance—Wraith’s Stance—was not like that.
If you mastered this sword, which killed oneself, you would never allow an easy attack even in front of the strongest opponent. Even if they saw you, they could not see you; even if they heard you, they could not hear you.
Only the moon reflected on the lake exists—
“…..!”
The strongest spear wielded alongside the strongest shield.
The invisible rider who tames the raging beast.
Understanding dawned on Sien, and he caught his breath.
A shock like being struck on the head with a hammer.
The Nightwalker Family’s sword styles numbered nine, and their assassins needed to master all to some extent.
But among them, only a limited number could be mastered to the level of true mastery.
A family member who had a grasp of the Ahom Sword Style and could use it appropriately was called a [Mademan].
Anyone who mastered all the Ahom Sword Style stances and achieved perfection in one of them was called a [Master].
Anyone who achieved perfection in two or more stances was called a [Highmaster].
Finally, one who mastered three stances was called a [Grandmaster].
The founding ancestor Kasan, the Sien of the past, and the current Laila had all reached that stage.
But that was the limit.
No one had ever gone beyond. No matter how great or exceptional, the maximum number of stances one could master was three. In the family’s centuries of tradition, even Kasan had never broken that rule.
“There’s a great wall between ‘knowing something to a degree’ and ‘being good at it.’ And an even greater wall between ‘being good at it’ and ‘doing it perfectly.’”
But the Sien of the past had perfectly mastered three stances. It might take time for his current, immature body to draw out the full power of those sword styles, but the fact that the essence of all three was engraved in his mind did not change.
Now, he was starting over—learning everything anew as a child, just beginning to study the family’s sword styles.
“I’m curious too.”
His heart pounded. The excitement wouldn’t stop.
Even in the future, Sien had only ever mastered three of the family’s sword stances, and the Ninth Stance had not been among them.
But now, with all the memories of the future intact in this young body—
How many of these superhuman Ahom Sword Styles could he absorb, breaking far beyond human limits?
Why couldn’t he master them all?
“Please teach me the Ninth Stance.”
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.