Revive Rome: Wait! Why not make the empress fall in love with me first?
Chapter 219 - 17: The Swordsman’s Way of Conversation

Chapter 219: Chapter 17: The Swordsman’s Way of Conversation

Richarter, despite his Frankish appearance with a tall and muscular build, black hair, and a large beard mixed with black and white,

also held his sword in a manner akin to that of the Franks; unlike Aske who hung his longsword on a belt buckle at his hips, ready to grip the handle or draw it in the Eastern style, he cradled it in the embrace of his arms, sheathless, simply wrapped with cloth.

"Weapon Master?" Seeing that Aske was armed from head to toe, Richarter asked aloud.

His voice was deep and magnetic, as though resonating from his chest.

"Sword Master?" Aske retorted.

A Sword Master, both a lineage (similar to Weapon Master, but specialized and focused on swords) and a profession,

referred to those dedicated to enhancing their swordsmanship and teaching others the styles of their martial lineage.

"I’ve never seen you," Richarter said.

"You can’t possibly have seen everyone," Aske replied.

"No," Richarter shook his head, "but I never forget a formidable swordsman once I’ve seen him."

"I’m not strictly a swordsman," Aske responded.

"But your swordsmanship is strong," Richater said, "I can tell your mastery comes from the East."

"How can you tell?"

"Intuition." Richarter released his arms, and the longsword fell, stabbing into the ground; the cloth unfurled like ripples spreading through the air, "the intuition of a swordsman."

"Do you realize? A sword has a soul," his beard quivering as he muttered vaguely.

"When you hold it, it naturally becomes a part of your physique, an extension of your arm, a piece of your soul."

"When you wield the sword, it too hums; when you swing it, it also roars; when you sheathe it, it also sighs," he caressed his sword hilt as though conversing with it, his gaze steadfast as stone.

This old man is really halfway to madness... Aske thought helplessly.

In the world of "Iron and Fire," reaching level 20 and becoming a demigod, whether player or NPC, one must confront a hidden attribute: the SAN value.

Following the Cthulhu Mythos style, translating SAN simply as "Sanity" is not quite adequate; it should more precisely be termed "Human Sanity."

As levels increase, not only does one physically diverge further from a pure-blooded human (the so-called dehumanization), but spiritually, one also begins to suffer from the erosion of the Laws.

After all, the key to becoming a demigod lies in the fusion with the Laws: the more integration, the greater the strength, and the more maddened one’s mind becomes.

Lv.20-Lv.30, SAN fluctuates between 100 and 50, where Transcendents normally only deal with some illusions and delirious mumblings, and usually appear normal; this stage is called "Psychic Abnormality." Like the grandfather of Thira.

Lv.30-Lv.40, typical SAN drops below 50, illusions and mumblings evolve into physical harm and mental corrosion, necessitating active resistance and annihilation by the Transcendent.

Such as this Sword Saint Richarter.

To others, it appears as if a demigod walks down the road, suddenly starts battling invisible foes, engaging in life-or-death struggles, or suddenly starts talking to themselves, dialoguing with unheard murmurings, thus this stage is also called the "Half-Mad Phase."

Lv.40 is the level cap, players can’t go beyond, NPCs that do go completely insane.

After all, losing human rationality is essentially no different from being possessed, equivalent to the soul’s death.

When this mechanism was first introduced, it was nearly universally condemned on major gaming forums; no one liked this "higher levels lead to greater madness" setting—wasn’t that just making us suffer needlessly? So, our high-level players should be restricted?

However, human nature is ever so fickle.

Players who ascended to demigod status found that in the natural world of the Main Plane, there were few enemies and extraordinary creatures that could challenge them; they could almost play at whim, heedlessly killing, which was hardly entertaining.

After all, demigods were levels above the mainstream.

Instead, when they fell into madness, the illusionary beasts presented unexpected strengths; killing them could restore their SAN values, while also increasing their integration with the corresponding Laws—in essence, offering both difficulty and a chance to grow stronger.

To put it simply, it was like the endless mode in Plants vs. Zombies, instantly garnering the favor and addiction of many high-level players.

Let’s get back to the main point. If Aske remembered correctly, the old Mr. Richarter at this point should be around Lv.34, which typically marks the semi-insane stage.

In a situation where the Magic Tide Level limit is Lv.10, the battles between demigods and monsters are extremely perilous—one could inadvertently exert too much strength, and then die due to losing control of their Spirituality.

However, the old gentleman is a Physical Demigod whose strength is primarily derived from his sheer physical body and combat experience, making him less affected by the restrictions of the Magic Tide. It is said that he had, through years of fighting against illusions and incoherent voices, conceived a swordsmanship on his own and penned a long poem called "Zettle," filled with what seemed like the nonsensical words and grammar of a madman.

Different swordsmen reading this "Zettle" could somehow interpret and learn various swordsmanship moves from it, hailed as the medieval Western version of the "Muscle-Tendon Change Classic."

"You recognize me," Richarter stated.

Aske frowned and didn’t answer. He was now unsure whether the person in front of him was real or fake, but the likelihood of him being real was greater.

After all, with the current Magic Tide level of Lv.10, a mutation couldn’t possibly replicate a real demigod, at best it would copy a shell of a demigod with a maximum strength level of Lv.10—which was meaningless. It couldn’t defeat nor deceive anyone, what use was it?

"Let’s converse," Richarter said, drawing his longsword, "in the way of a swordsman."

"Can’t we talk like normal people?" Aske sighed.

"Words of the mouth, feeble and weak; clash of metal, resounding and strong," Richarter declared.

Aske: ......

Here it comes, the penchant for reciting poetry; typical of this Sword Saint.

Reluctantly, Aske drew a saber with his right hand and a sword with his left, slowly assuming a stance with both weapons in hand.

"Let’s first test your foundations," said Richarter, suddenly vanishing from his original spot.

Vanish? No, he was just too fast!

Aske’s right saber harshly chopped downward while his left sword thrust into the empty space in front of him. Richarter had already teleported in front, his longsword swinging upward to deflect Aske’s right saber, simultaneously spun to dodge his left sword thrust, then his longsword cut from a tricky angle toward Aske’s throat.

Divine Luo - Richarter swordsmanship, Throat Slash.

Divine Luo’s Throat Slash, similar to the Dongluo Swordsmanship’s Tiger Slash, also targets the opponent’s throat with a longsword. But while Tiger Slash focuses on speed and tricky angles, Throat Slash demands outright neatness and lethality in one strike.

This Throat Slash by the Sword Saint was executed with perfect speed and power, enough to instantly severe a normal person’s windpipe.

However, Aske retracted his left wrist sword, precisely using the guard to block the opponent’s Throat Slash.

"Hmm?" Richarter expressed surprised, noting that using the blade near the guard to parry was a characteristic of his own swordsmanship school.

The Sword Saint hopped back swiftly, air-slicing with a Crescent Moon Slash!

Aske’s right saber cleaved upward, countering with a reverse Half Moon Slash against the Crescent Moon Slash, his left hand sword positioned in front before stabbing again.

"Dongluo’s Eagle Soaring Sword," said Richarter mid-jump, using the back of his hand to catch Aske’s sword tip in the air, his body pushed backward by the force of the sword. Aske withdrew his sword, then his right saber hacked while his left sword lunged, attacking from both sides again.

"What swordsmanship is this?" Richarter repeatedly jumped back, dodging all attacks, curiously asking.

"Dual-Handed Sword and Saber Assassination Technique," Aske replied.

"Right saber heavy, left sword agile, double strike, hard to defend against," Richarter resumed his poetic tone.

Aske was speechless, his right hand wiping across his waist, subtly replacing his military saber with a battle axe.

"Weapon Master’s ’Fast Hand’," Richarter commented, "Right hand holding an axe, left hand a sword, Holstein dual wielding style?"

"Barbarian Tactics," Aske said, suddenly hurling the battle axe at him.

Richarter’s wrist spun quickly, slicing the flying axe with his longsword.

Merely in the moment the flying axe obscured the view, Aske charged behind him, executing Dragon Slash!

The sword wind silently struck from behind, but the Sword Saint seemingly had eyes on his back, dodging by leaping forward; yet soon after, severe pain erupted from his lower back.

If it were the length of a longsword, Richarter’s forward leap would have easily evaded it. Yet Aske’s right hand, previously empty, now wielded a long spear, using its greater reach to swiftly puncture his back.

Dragon Spear!