The Illegitimate Who Devours Weapons

[Translator - Helga ]

[Proofreader - Lucky]

Chapter 4

The child chose a sword.

Lee Taeshin narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the blade his son had picked.

“So, that’s your choice.”

A double-edged sword with a flat spine.

Its design resembled a Western sword more than an Eastern one. The name of this ancient blade, its material unknown, was Black Twilight.

It was said that the founder of the Martial Lee Clan had discovered it in an uncharted land.

However, throughout generations, no one had ever been able to awaken its hidden power. It had remained shrouded in mystery, gathering dust over the centuries.

Though sharper and more durable than most sacred relics, it was nothing more than a well-crafted longsword.

Its known abilities weren’t enough to classify it as a Heavenly-tier weapon, yet because of its connection to the family’s founder, it had been stored alongside them.

A sword that not even a single ancestor or patriarch was chosen by.

Lee Taeshin looked at his son.

Was this simply the meaningless choice of a newborn? Or was it the beginning of something much greater?

For the child who had created an unprecedented spectacle in the Steel Selection Ritual, perhaps this was the most fitting choice.

“Young has chosen Black Twilight. With this, the ceremony is complete.”

Thus, the chaotic Steel Selection Ritual came to an end.

Time passed since the events of the Steel Selection Ritual, and soon, he turned nine years old.

Time flowed faster than ever.

With each passing day, his body adapted.

The moment he could freely walk and run, he began his training.

“Nanny, I’m heading to afternoon training. Can you prepare my training clothes?”

“…Young Master, I worry that you’re overexerting yourself.”

He trained twice a day, between 6 a.m. and 6 p.m., for three hours each session.

It was a regimen far beyond what any normal nine-year-old could endure, and the nanny couldn’t help but worry.

“I’m fine, Nanny. I make sure to rest enough.”

“I’ll escort you there. Let’s go together.”

The nanny let out a quiet sigh, careful not to let him hear.

A child looked down upon simply for being a bastard.

So kind, so intelligent—yet receiving no support, forced to struggle alone.

She had always felt sorry for him.

When he was little, she pitied how little care he received.

Now that he had grown, she pitied how relentlessly he pushed himself.

How lonely must he feel? How unfair must it be?

He was far more mature than his age.

Perhaps he instinctively understood that, without support, he had no choice but to work even harder.

“Young Master, I will always be on your side. If things get too difficult, please tell me, alright?”

“Hm? Oh… yeah.”

The nanny’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Though she had only intended to see him off, she ended up following him all the way to the training grounds.

As usual, he headed to the innermost Zone.

“Young Master, other areas are open too. Why do you always go to Zone one? Isn’t it too worn out?”

The direct lineage had ten training Zones in total, with the higher numbers boasting the latest facilities.

Naturally, the newer Zones were superior, but to him, Zone one was the best training ground.

“I have someone waiting for me there.”

He smiled at the nanny.

Just then—

A voice rang out from Zone Seven.

“No, not like that! If you grip the sword too tightly, you’ll hurt your hands. Always handle it as if it’s a part of your own body…”

“Ugh! Master, why do you nag so much? I can hold a sword however I want!”

“No, no, my lady. Please, calm down a little and try again.”

A man, clearly flustered, was instructing a young girl in swordsmanship.

“The eighth child…”

The child who had undergone the Steel Selection Ritual alongside me—and, in all likelihood, would also go through the Naming Ceremony with me.

"Young Master, you should call her 'older sister.'"

"She's only five months older than me. What kind of 'older sister' is that?"

If you only looked at how babies grow in their early years, that gap might seem significant. But since I wasn’t exactly sure when I was born, even that wasn’t certain.

And even if it were, I had no intention of addressing that girl as my elder.

Instead, my gaze drifted toward the man teaching her how to wield a sword.

Noticing my interest, my nanny spoke up.

"The one instructing Lady Hwa is Commander Baek Leehyun. He leads the Ebony Squad within the family’s martial corps."

The leader of the Ebony Squad? That meant he was an exceptional warrior.

For a nine-year-old child, he was an overwhelmingly skilled teacher.

My nanny, now looking concerned, added hesitantly,

"…Young Master, I’ve been searching everywhere. A great teacher who recognizes your true potential will appear soon, I promise."

She was worried about the upcoming trial I would have to face.

Children born into the Esteemed Martial Lee Clan must pass three major tests as they grow.

The first is the Steel Selection Ritual, held around their first birthday.

The second is the 'Naming Ceremony,' which takes place when they turn ten.

The Steel Selection Ritual is something even an infant, barely able to walk, must undergo, so it is what it is.

But the Naming Ceremony… That one is truly dangerous. A single mistake could cost you your life.

To prepare for it, the children of the Esteemed Martial Lee Clan are given all kinds of potent elixirs from a young age. They are also taught by the best instructors money can buy.

‘And many powerful warriors compete to become the mentor of a legitimate heir of the Lee Clan.’

Yet, not a single person had come forward to take me as their disciple.

After all, no one wanted to waste their time on an illegitimate child.

‘But I don’t feel bitter or regretful about it.’

They weren’t coming for the person—I knew that well. They were coming for the benefits that came with the person’s status.

A teacher like that? I wouldn’t take a hundred of them, even if they were offered to me.

"It doesn’t bother me, Nanny. Besides, children who haven’t undergone the Naming Ceremony are not supposed to have a teacher yet."

"That may be the official rule, but these days, it’s quite different…”

* * *

The Zone 1 training ground for direct lineage members could be described as antique at best—or outdated at worst.

Instead of modern shock-absorbing materials, the ground was covered with old stone slabs. There were no high-tech measuring devices or weight machines, only straw dummies and primitive strength-training equipment.

Even the armory and storage room were housed in wooden buildings dating back to the era of the Great War.

‘To be honest, it’s more of a symbolic space than a real training ground.’

Zone 1 was a representation of the family’s long history.

While countless buildings had crumbled and been rebuilt through cataclysms and world wars, this place had remained untouched—mostly because it barely had any structures to begin with.

"Buildings may fall and people may perish, but this land, where we have fought and bled for generations, remains unchanged. This is the true heart of the Lee Clan."

That was what the great ancestor—the hero who rebuilt the declining Martial Lee Clan—had said upon returning from the battlefield.

But symbolism aside, I had only one reason for coming here instead of the modern training facilities.

‘The armory here holds the oldest weapons in any training ground.’

As soon as I opened the armory door, a musty scent of rust and dust poured out.

It was clear that these weapons had gone untouched for ages—perhaps even neglected.

Anyone else would have just grabbed any sword and begun training, but for me, training always started with selecting a weapon from the armory.

Because these ancient weapons were my true masters.

‘There it is.’

I soon found an old iron sword, gripped it, and stepped outside.

As soon as I reached the training ground, I held the sword lightly and closed my eyes.

At that moment, a dark energy stirred from deep within my chest, seeping out and coiling around the training sword.

When I opened my eyes again, the world before me had completely changed.

A group of swordsmen stood, swinging their blades in unison.

"This is the foundation."

The man at the front spoke.

"Whether it’s advanced swordsmanship or basic techniques, the fundamentals remain the same. Build a solid foundation."

Dressed in an old-fashioned martial uniform—something you’d only see in the Lee Clan’s museum—he moved, demonstrating each motion.

A downward slash.

A horizontal sweep.

A thrust from behind.

Diagonal cuts. Straight cuts. Single-point strikes.

"These are the basics. They are the beams that hold up a house, unwavering in any storm. Engrave them into your sword."

The vision did not last long.

It cut off abruptly, and the dark energy dissipated from the training sword.

This was the power I had gained after my regression.

A force that made up for the lack of elixirs and teachers in my life.

‘Still not proficient enough.’

By using the black energy coiled within my heart, I could read a weapon’s memory.

And once I had fully grasped that memory, I could convert the weapon into pure magical energy at will.

The ancient weapons stored here were, without a doubt, the best teachers I could ever ask for.

"Hahh..."

I let out a slow breath.

I steadied my stance and regulated my breathing.

The Seven Star Sword Technique—the foundational form practiced by the Lee Clan’s elite guards.

Whoosh!

The blade sliced through the wind.

Even with a child's body, the sword was heavy, yet my swings remained steady and precise.

‘Once I master the Seven Star Sword… I’ll have gone through nearly every weapon in this training ground.’

The older and more exceptional a weapon was—or the more its wielder had favored it—the clearer its memories became to me.

The weapons in other training grounds were too new, which was why I had chosen Zone 1 in the first place.

‘Even with their age, these are still just training weapons, huh?’

The skill level of their previous owners left much to be desired.

In just two years, I had already read the memories of most of the weapons buried in this armory.

I glanced toward the entrance of the training ground.

‘Still not here today? He should be showing up soon…’

But if I kept looking, I’d only lose focus. I pushed the thought aside and immersed myself in training.

One hour passed.

Then two.

Sweat dripped onto the old stone slabs, forming scattered droplets.

I lowered my sword.

‘That’s it. The Seven Star Sword is complete.’

I knew it instinctively.

And then—

A voice rang out from the corner of the training ground. The voice I had been waiting for.

"Impressive."

I turned toward the speaker and bowed.

"Greetings, Minister."

"Hah, you still won’t call me ‘Uncle’? It’s been since New Year’s, hasn’t it?"

Lee Taehong.

A 4th Rank martial astist and the Chief Administrator of the Lee Clan.

‘Finally… the time has come.’

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

* * *

In my past life, not a single person had sought me out to be my teacher.

But there was one—just one person—I could truly call my mentor.

"I heard you still haven’t found a teacher. I’d like to help, if you’ll allow it."

Lee Taehong. My uncle.

And just like that, I became the student of a man who held the prestigious title of 4th rank Martial Artist.

But my uncle was burdened with the heavy responsibilities of the Clan. Unlike the tutors assigned to the direct descendants, he couldn’t dedicate much time to me.

‘And after he was pushed aside due to the family’s internal politics…’

That was the end of it.

I never heard from him again.

Now, Uncle Taehong dropped down onto the dusty floor of the training ground without a care.

Any other elder would have scolded him for lacking propriety, but he clearly didn’t concern himself with such things.

That was part of why I liked him.

"Why are you just standing there? My neck is starting to hurt. Sit down and cool off for a bit."

He patted the spot beside him.

"Thank you."

"You’ve been working hard. I see you here every day, never missing a single session."

I had already known my uncle passed by this training ground on his way to and from work.

In fact, I had deliberately adjusted my training schedule to match his routine—just to hasten this very meeting.

"It must be exhausting, isn’t it?"

Taehong gave me a wry smile as he looked at his sweat-drenched nephew.

In this clan, discrimination was an inescapable reality.

‘There were days when I wasn’t even invited to New Year’s gatherings whenever Lee Taeshin wasn’t present. That alone spoke volumes about my usual treatment.’ Lee Taehong thought to himself.

"It must be difficult, being treated so differently from your siblings. It probably doesn’t make any sense to you. But I hope you’ll endure it."

"I’m fine."

Difficult, huh?

Yes… there were times when it was.

In the past, at this age, I had often been wounded by childish emotions. I had cried in frustration and despair, feeling the sting of injustice.

But now?

"Regardless of everything, I am still of the Esteemed Martial Lee bloodline."

I lifted the training sword in my hand slightly.

"In the end, I only need to prove myself with this. That is what I was taught about our clan. That is the meaning behind the two characters that define us."

Lee Taehong’s eyes widened.

Could there be words more fitting than those?

He looked at his young nephew.

Exceptional talent, unwavering effort, a fitting character, and an astute mind.

"Ah… how could a child like this have been born as an Illegitimate?"

It was truly a shame.

But Taehong quickly shook his head.

He had always believed that discriminating against an illegitimate child was one of the family's uglier flaws—so what right did he have to pity the boy for it now?

"Truthfully, I came here today because I wanted to help you in some way. I want to be your teacher."

My eyes gleamed.

"It’s here."

The first opportunity I had been waiting for.

I had longed for this moment—for the day I would meet my uncle, for the words I had been hoping he would say.

Though he had stepped away from active duty to become the Chief administrator, my uncle had once been on the verge of reaching the 3rd rank martial artist status.

And more than that, despite his position as an illegitimate son, he had risen to become the Chief Administrator of the martial Lee Clan—a master strategist and an influential figure.

I carefully chose my response.

[Translator - Helga ]

[Proofreader - Lucky]