As the full-scale training of the Ninth Form came to an end, dusk had already settled in. With this, today’s routine was over.
However, the place Sien headed to was not her bedroom.
It was the underground of the ducal mansion.
She passed through dark underground corridors and stone walls, proved she was a member of the family at a strict barrier, and proceeded forward.
At the end of it all, what awaited Sien was an absurdly vast archive.
A secretive library, accessible only to members of the Nightwalker Family.
Ever since formally becoming part of the family, Sien had never missed a single day visiting this place during her entire year at the ducal mansion.
“Welcome, Sien.”
And the librarian who alone guarded the library smiled at Sien.
“What book have you come to see today?”
The family’s highest elder and Consigliere—Luna Nightwalker—spoke.
Her skin was pale as a corpse, and her ears were pointed.
A Dark Elf, a race regarded as the most ominous and shunned sect on the continent.
Even so, there was no doubt that she was a true ‘member of the Nightwalker Family.’
“I’d like to see the book about the Ninth Form.”
“The Pose of the Kraken?”
At the unexpected reply, Luna tilted her head curiously.
“Just recently you were devouring books about the Pose of the Wraith, and now you’re suddenly interested in the Ninth Form?”
“My mother taught me today.”
“Oh, so after the First Form, you’re immediately learning the Ninth Form…?”
Normally, the sword forms of the Nightwalker Family are learned in order, according to their numbers. Yet to teach the Ninth right after the First…
“She certainly is quite bold in her own way.”
Yet, the wisest elder of the family soon understood the intent.
“Wait here for a moment.”
So saying, Luna turned her back.
The family’s library.
Though the word ‘library’ sounds grand, there were barely any properly bound hardcovers; rather, she found herself amid a tangle of vellum scrolls and dirty scraps of paper, messily entwined like trash.
Yet even in such chaos, Luna’s steps held no hesitation. She dug through the tangled mess and, without fail, picked out the very texts—be they scrolls or scraps—that Sien wanted, as if she knew the location of every book as well as the back of her own hand.
She had been guarding this library since before the birth of the current head, Laila Nightwalker.
That was the Consigliere, Luna Nightwalker.
Through generations of changing heads, she alone had silently protected this library, safeguarding the teachings recorded for the ‘family’ by the Nightwalker assassins.
“These are the sword manuals and records left by your ancestors who mastered the Ninth Form.”
Luna handed over the materials she’d brought.
“Read comfortably. I’ll prepare some coffee and madeleines.”
“Thank you, Luna.”
Before long, Luna had gone off, and Sien’s gaze fell to the book in her hand. Next, she flipped through the collected teachings of the Ninth Form.
No matter how exceptional a member of the Nightwalker Family, the number of sword forms one could truly master was one or two—at most, three. In the entire history of the family, only four had ever achieved three.
“To know something and to do it perfectly are different things.”
And what was written there were the teachings of masters who had perfectly commanded the Ninth Form, which Sien had yet to reach.
[To you who seek the ultimate of the Ninth Form,
A human has two legs. An octopus has eight. | A squid has ten.
How many legs does a Kraken have?]
“…What on earth is this nonsense?”
Sien muttered in disbelief.
Their teachings were usually passed down in sword songs called “sword verses.”
Sword verses, the song of the blade, or the poetry of the sword.
Primarily, they were meant to prevent others from easily deciphering the secrets of swordsmanship. But the reason the sword verses of powerful forms were so abstruse and complex was different.
It was because a profound enlightenment was required.
Just mimicking the form or movement could never grant you access to that higher realm.
Of course, among the texts Luna had picked for Sien, there was also a beginner’s manual for the Ninth Form, complete with kind and detailed explanations.
—But for Sien right now, such things were unnecessary.
She already knew as much.
As the next family head after Laila Nightwalker, and the ‘father of assassins,’ Sien Nightwalker had mastered all of the family’s Ahom Sword Style, and among those, had perfected three forms.
Although her current immature and young body could not bring out the full power of the forms, the knowledge was still perfectly intact in her mind.
It was merely a matter of when she would be able to unleash it.
Therefore, what Sien needed was the key to enlightenment—from the basics to the ultimate mastery.
“How many legs does a Kraken have?”
The answer that immediately came to mind was ‘unknown.’
The Kraken, monster of the great sea, does not have a fixed number of legs like an octopus or squid. It is a magical beast, twisted by arcane power.
Sometimes it has eight, sometimes ten. In some unverifiable records, it supposedly has ninety-nine. Likely a sailor’s tall tale.
After all, if you encounter a Kraken in the middle of the ocean, who would be leisurely counting its legs?
“You’re already trying to decipher the sword verse?”
“Luna!”
At that moment, Sien heard a voice as if by magic, without a sound. Startled, she looked up.
Luna had returned, bringing steaming coffee and soft madeleines.
Using the First-rank Telekinesis Magic ‘Invisible Hand,’ she made the coffee and pastries float in the air around her.
“You were truly engrossed in your reading.”
Like any member of the Nightwalker Family, suppressing one’s presence was almost an occupational hazard, but Luna hadn’t particularly tried to conceal herself.
It was simply that Sien, absorbed in deciphering the sword verse, hadn’t noticed.
“I’m sorry, Luna.”
“No need to worry.”
Luna smiled as she handed over the hot coffee.
“No one here will ever harm you.”
At those words, Sien smiled quietly.
Before and after becoming the head, Luna had always watched over Sien in this place. It would not be an exaggeration to say it was where she felt most at peace.
“Still, isn’t it a bit early to try deciphering the sword verse when you’ve just started learning the Ninth Form?”
Luna glanced at the passage in Sien’s hand and spoke.
“Luna, can you decipher this sword verse?”
“Well, the text…”
With Telekinesis Magic, another cup of coffee and a madeleine floated over to Sien.
“My answer won’t necessarily be yours.”
It was a reply imbued with her unique wisdom.
“As you know, within the family, the Ninth Form isn’t exactly a favored form.”
“It’s extremely vulnerable defensively, so against an equal or slightly superior opponent, its effectiveness drops, after all.”
“Yes.”
Luna said.
“The Pose of the Wraith became the First Form because it’s the basis and foundation of all other forms, while the Pose of the Kraken became the Ninth because it requires the most complex and demanding techniques.”
“It’s almost more of a magical combat art than swordsmanship.”
“Indeed, it’s closer to the concept of magical swordsmanship than simple swordplay.”
Luna continued.
“Anyway, the one who recorded that sword verse was recognized as having reached the pinnacle by the head of the family at the time, and was granted the qualification of Ninth Form Master. I was present as well.”
It might have been decades ago, or even over a century in the past, but she spoke as if recalling a fond memory from the night before.
“Yet sometimes, such doubts cross my mind.”
“What kind of doubts…?”
“What do we really use as the standard for calling someone a ‘master’ of a sword form?”
To be recognized as a master of a sword form, several strict procedures were required.
First, one must prove their mastery before all the family’s masters by force.
Next, approval by a majority of assassins holding the rank of Highmaster.
Finally, unanimous agreement from both the current head and the Consigliere.
“Because they passed those rigorous tests, doesn’t that make them a master of the Ninth Form?”
“Yes, the head of the family at the time and I both agreed he had reached the ultimate in the Ninth Form.”
At Luna’s words, Sien asked with a faint smile.
“…Have you changed your mind?”
At the pointed question, Luna offered a meaningful smile.
“Still, within the family, the Ninth Form is avoided because it’s ineffective against strong opponents.”
“For slaughtering small fry en masse, there are plenty of other methods besides the Ninth Form. From that perspective, it’s not really a necessary form, is it?”
Sien fell silent, and Luna spoke.
“Yet, there must be a reason why this sword art was not only one of the original Ahom Sword Styles, but also holds the final place.”
“Then those who have been called masters of the Ninth Form until now…”
“Did they truly reach mastery of the Ninth Form, is the question.”
At Luna’s words, Sien caught her breath.
“In reality, all that’s required to be a master of a form is the approval of the family. There’s no mathematical way to quantify or measure whether someone has truly reached the ultimate in swordsmanship.”
Luna smiled meaningfully as she said this.
“Of course, the Ninth Form he wielded in his lifetime was undeniably powerful. His enlightenment and achievement were by no means false. Even other Highmasters couldn’t easily approach him when he executed the Pose of the Kraken.”
“Even the head of the family or you, Luna?”
At Sien’s bold question, Luna smiled.
“If he had, he would have become the head.”
“That’s true.”
“He simply never easily allowed his distance to be closed. That’s all. He could not overcome the essential limitation of the Ninth Form, which is that it can be easily countered once the gap is closed.”
To even be recognized in the Nightwalker Family, a place overflowing with exceptional talents, was no easy task.
Yet, even so—
“Let his teachings serve as your signpost, but never make them your goal.”
The family’s wisest elder spoke. For a moment, it felt as though Sien had been struck on the head.
She realized how foolish it was to think that everything about the Ninth Form could be contained within the paper before her.
So Sien set down the sword verse in her hand.
After setting it aside, she picked up another book from the pile.
It was a sword manual on the basics of the Pose of the Kraken and the Ninth Form—one she had thought unnecessary to study, believing she already knew it.
At the same time, one question flashed through her mind like lightning.
The father of assassins who had mastered all the Ahom Sword Styles, including the First and three perfected forms.
After reaching that point, she’d thought there was nothing left to learn. Yet suddenly, she wondered—
—Had I truly ‘perfectly’ mastered those three sword forms?