Chapter 54 The Sword Saint (2)



"You... can you defeat a dragon?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The room fell into an eerie silence, as if the question itself had a weight that suffocated the air around us. The Old man's eyes narrowed, his weathered face revealing the depth of his contemplation. Time seemed to stand still as he delved into the recesses of his memories, searching for an answer.

"Hmmm... A dragon?" he murmured, his voice filled with a cautious curiosity. His response seemed to awaken a dormant power in the room, intensifying the tension that hung in the air.

Dragons were mythical creatures, revered for their immense power and feared by all. The mere mention of them carried a sense of awe and danger.

With a pause that stretched into eternity, the Old man finally broke the silence, his voice resonating with a quiet confidence. "If it's an adult dragon or a dragon in its adolescence stage, I can defeat it," he declared, his words tinged with a subtle pride. It was as if he had faced these formidable creatures before and emerged victorious, carrying the scars and stories of his battles.

Dragons. The word itself conjured images of awe-inspiring creatures, the epitome of majestic and formidable beings. They were the pinnacle of all life forms, revered for their absolute power. Legends whispered of their status as the arbiters of magic, beings that existed on the edge of godhood. Throughout history, not a single dragon's death had been recorded, a testament to their unrivaled might.

It was unfathomable for common folk to comprehend the sheer majesty of a dragon. The devastating force of a single breath from an adult dragon had the potential to reduce a bustling city to smoldering ruins. If it weren't for their inherent arrogance and solitary nature, dragons could have easily dominated the world.

Yet, despite their incredible power, the Old man claimed he could defeat them.

It made me wonder how powerful he is, I knew it would be far above my imagination but I couldn't help but be awestruck at his words.

Hope sparked within me, reflected in the fleeting smile that graced my face. But it was short-lived, fading as quickly as it appeared, shattered by his next words.

"But, if it's an old dragon..." he trailed off, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

I couldn't help but interject, a tinge of desperation lacing my words, "Will you not be able to defeat it?"

"wh...at....?," I stammered, my voice betraying a mix of surprise and apprehension. The weight of his scrutiny bore down on me, as if he possessed an uncanny ability to unravel the depths of my emotions.

If he fell like I was a threat to his disciple then there was high chance of his sword to be pressed against my neck, just thinking about it gave me chills.

But contrary to my thoughts, his expression softened slightly, a glimmer of understanding flickering in his eyes. "Your gaze was filled with hate... no, to be more precise, you seemed to despise Zephyr for some reason," he continued, his voice laced with a somber tone.

His words struck a chord within me, a reminder of the conflicting emotions that had churned within my heart. The Sword Saint's keen perception unnerved me, as if he could unravel the tangled web of my motives. It was as if he could read my mind.

"But yet, you didn't mean any harm to him."

Yet, to my relief, he acknowledged that I had not intended any harm to befall Zephyr. It was the truth, although I hated Zephyr, it was not to the extent that I wanted him dead.

"I don't know what your intentions were," he mused, his voice tinged with a hint of empathy, "but let me tell you this." His gaze bore into mine, conveying a sense of urgency. "Zephyr, he is a poor kid. Don't hate him too much."

His words echoed in the recesses of my mind, their weight sinking deep into my soul. A mixture of guilt and longing welled up within me, forcing me to confront the conflicting emotions that had plagued me since that fateful day.

Deep down, I knew that blaming Zephyr alone was a simplistic response to the complexities of our shared past. If anyone was at fault, it was me, for allowing myself to be manipulated and paying the price for it. Forgiveness didn't come easily, especially for someone who had caused so much pain in my life.

He had taken advantage of me when I was at the lowest point of my life, which had led to me being kicked out of the academy, which became the source of all my suffering in my past life.

One thing led to another and a disastrous fate befell upon me. The pains and suffering that I had experienced was something that I couldn't forget even if I am reborn.

So, I couldn't forgive him easily.

It was something that I just couldn't do even if the sword saint ask for it himself.

But before I could utter a word in response, the Old man abruptly turned, his countenance grave and resolute. "That was all I wanted to say," he declared, striding purposefully down the hallway. His figure gradually disappeared from sight, leaving me to grapple with the weight of his words and the tangled emotions that swirled within me.

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