The Illegitimate Who Devours Weapons

[Translator - Helga ]

[Proofreader - Lucky]

Chapter 6

Boundless.

This was the nickname of my third eldest brother, as well as the rare title given to the weapon itself.

Boundless’s ability was simple yet remarkable.

A weapon that could transform into any form at will when infused with mana.

A sword, a spear, a bow—whatever I desired.

Even within the same weapon, its weight could be adjusted to be heavier or lighter. Its length, hardness, and countless other properties could be freely manipulated.

I watched Boundless for a moment before cautiously channeling my mana into it.

As Boundless absorbed my energy, its shape began to shift.

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead.

This is my limit.

My entire body burned with heat.

My mana circuits were overheating.

I stared at the slowly transforming Boundless with regret before cutting off the mana flow entirely.

“Hah.”

A hollow chuckle escaped my lips.

The handle and overall shape remained that of a dagger, but the blade had awkwardly elongated by about a hand’s length, throwing off its balance. Worse still, parts of the extended blade were sharp, while others were dull and misshapen.

I was aiming for a properly sized short sword, but…

I lacked both the necessary mana and the technique to control it precisely.

But that was something time could fix.

Only one thing truly mattered.

‘Boundless is mine now.’

I recalled the sight of my third eldest brother wielding Boundless with effortless mastery.

At mid-range, he wielded it like a spear.

In close quarters, it became a sword.

At long range, it transformed into a bow or throwing knives.

He adjusted its weight, extended or retracted its length, and even altered its hardness and durability at will.

Every movement flowed seamlessly, swift and natural.

With that overwhelming versatility and unpredictability, my brother had earned the respect of countless warriors.

I can do it too. Maybe… even surpass him.

For someone like me, who could read the memories of all weapons, there was no weapon better suited than Boundless.

Then, suddenly, I caught myself.

Surpassing my brother?

…I really had changed.

Lee Cheol, you’ve come a long way.

I gazed down at Boundless in my hands.

The me of the past—drowning in helplessness and defeat—would never have even considered such a thought.

In my past life, it felt like I was endlessly plummeting into a bottomless abyss…

But now, I felt like I was walking down a road stretching infinitely before me.

The uncertainty remained, but it was different. This time, it was an uncertainty filled with anticipation and hope.

“…Tch.”

I felt a strange heat rise in my nose. Clearing my throat awkwardly, I bent down to pick up Boundless from the ground.

Then, after struggling for quite some time, I infused my mana once more—finally shaping Boundless back into the form of a dagger.

"Forget about surpassing my brother—I need to learn how to wield it properly first."

Feeling the complete emptiness of my drained mana, I let out a hollow laugh.

Just then, I heard the sound of a door opening near the entrance.

"Young Master, it’s time."

I hurriedly tucked Boundless into my clothes.

Then, I pulled out an object I had hidden in my inner pocket.

"Young Master? Where are you?"

"I'm here."

As I spoke, I placed the object back onto the stand as naturally as if I had just been inspecting it.

It was a dagger identical to Boundless in appearance—except for the fact that it showed no signs of rust.

This should be good enough.

In the underground floor of the secret warehouse, many items had remained sealed and abandoned, their true nature never revealed. Over time, they became nothing more than ordinary relics.

I had relied on my past-life memories to request this fake from my nanny. While there were some minor differences in appearance, this would suffice.

"It’s time to leave, Young Master. Your session is over."

"Understood."

I adjusted my collar and walked out at a steady pace.

There was no need to worry—I wouldn’t be searched when leaving. Even if they did decide to inspect me, there would be no issue.

Boundless had already changed form. Unless I infused it with my mana, no one would notice anything unusual.

I might get scolded a little, but I could just claim it was mine to begin with.

Despite being just a small dagger, its weight in my arms felt substantial.

A satisfying weight.

---

The Zone 1 Martial training halll was always deserted.

Even the patrol officers and facility staff who managed the grounds avoided entering. Direct descendants of the family trained in these zones, and no one was permitted to interfere.

Thanks to that, I could focus entirely on my training.

It had been a week since I obtained Boundless.

During that time, I had devoted myself to practicing a single stance—over and over again.

"Hoo…!"

I steadied my breathing and opened my eyes.

In my mind, I pictured a man.

Slowly, I stepped forward.

Then, in one swift motion, I slashed downward from above.

Swish—!

The moment my mana-infused slash struck, the training dummy's torso was deeply carved by the blade.

But that was as far as it went.

The sword stopped just short—about a hand’s length away from a full cut.

"Another failure."

Frustrated, I ran a hand through my sweat-drenched hair and collapsed onto the ground.

"Haa…"

As I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the sun, my gaze fell on the black ring wrapped around my finger.

Boundless—transformed into a more portable shape.

…What was that back then?

I spun the ring absentmindedly with my thumb, recalling the moment I first acquired Boundless.

The technique I was training now was a sword strike I had seen from within Boundless’s memories.

Or… could I even call it a "memory"?

I had felt that horrific scene with my entire being.

It was vivid—painfully so. And yet, it felt impossibly distant, like an illusion beyond reality.

And in that vision… the man saw me.

That had never happened again.

No matter how many times I tried to read Boundless’s memories, I never experienced anything like that first time. Now, all I got were disjointed, fleeting fragments—fleeting glimpses of unknown battles and unfamiliar warriors.

Yet from those fragmented images, I had extracted a single sword technique.

"A sword technique? More like just one move."

A dry chuckle escaped me.

I had thought I was getting better at using this ability, but clearly, I wasn’t.

One stance.

That was all I had managed to extract when I peered into the memories.

The technique’s name was the Demon-Piercing Strike.

As if to say I wasn’t yet ready, the black energy had only shown me that single motion, along with its name.

"Just one technique… but it's the real deal."

At first, I had only wanted to tap into Boundless’s ability, but this—this was an unexpected reward.

My heart pounded with excitement.

Before my regression, I had been nothing—a failure who wasn’t even taught the family's basic sword forms.

Even if it was just one move, this was the first time I had laid hands on a true high-level martial art.

"Let’s try again."

I steadied my breath and gripped the training sword once more.

Whoosh—!

A heavy gust cut through the air—far too powerful for a mere nine-year-old child.

Mana Arts, First Stage: Steel Body.

I had already unlocked the first gate of mana refinement—absorbing mana and reinforcing my body.

With careful control, I infused my mana and attempted the strike once more.

"This isn’t it."

It felt completely different from the strike in my memory.

The man’s movements had an effortless grace, a seamless fluidity.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t replicate it.

I must have been doing something wrong—my joints ached as if I had been lifting weights with improper form.

Once again, I focused, recalling Boundless’s memories.

A fleeting memory fragment, barely ten seconds long.

A man stepping forward, his blade descending in a powerful slash.

I focused on the flow of mana and the movement that followed.

Once. Twice. Three times...

Until there wasn’t a single ounce of energy left in my body.

"Focus. You can do this."

It wasn’t my body, but in the man's memory, I could feel—more clearly than anyone—how he moved, how he wielded his strength.

Wait—

A sudden thought crossed my mind.

"This isn’t my body."

Slowly, I looked down at myself.

For a nine-year-old, my physique was solid, but still, I was just a child.

"I’m not a fully grown adult. I’m nine."

Even after nine years in this body, I still felt awkward in it sometimes.

Especially when my short limbs failed me.

"How stupid. I didn’t even realize something this obvious."

The man’s movements had been effortless.

As if every fiber of his being was under perfect control—nothing excessive, nothing lacking.

I gripped the training sword again and adjusted my stance.

This time, I focused on my body's coordination.

I accepted my own form as it was.

No need to force the motion.

I moved the sword naturally, at my own pace.

And in that instant—

Paaaaang—!

A sharp, piercing sound rang through the air.

A clean sonic tear, unlike anything before.

I had changed.

My stance had definitely improved.

I clenched my fist.

"I think... I’m getting the hang of it."

Before, I had been completely lost.

Now, I could finally see the path forward.

But another problem remained.

"Mana."

I let out a bitter chuckle.

Was it because my understanding of martial arts was too shallow?

Or was there another reason?

No matter how hard I tried to mimic the man's mana control, something crucial was missing.

It felt impossible to replicate.

"I’ll just have to figure it out the hard way."

I spun the training sword in my grip and adjusted my stance once more.

Effort was second nature to me.

If effort itself was a talent, then in that one aspect, I would never lose to anyone.

Then—

"Little one."

Flinch.

Instinctively, I stepped back, dropping into a defensive posture.

A woman stood before me.

Forties? No, at a glance, she could pass for early thirties.

Her hair was a wild mess, covering most of her face, as if she hadn't bothered brushing it.

She wasn’t wearing shoes—barefoot and unkempt.

Her entire appearance was... off.

My brow furrowed.

"Who...?"

I was about to ask Who are you? when I noticed the faint brown eyes peeking out from beneath her dark bangs.

“…Are you?”

Jet-black hair and lightly pigmented brown eyes—distinctive traits of the direct lineage of the Martial Lee Clan.

This woman was a direct descendant of Martial Lee Bloodline.

“Me? You don’t know me?”

“No. This is our first time meeting.”

She suddenly pouted, then nodded in understanding.

“Hmm, I guess that makes sense. I’ve never seen you before either.”

“…Excuse me?”

“I don’t really show my face much. But now that you’ve seen me, you know me, right?”

What was she even trying to say?

Her behavior… Something about her seems off.

She tilted her head, her expression vacant and absentminded.

“So, what’s your name? This place is only for my family, as far as I know.”

“…Young.”

“Lee Young? That’s a weird name.”

“It’s my childhood name. I haven’t had my official naming ceremony yet.”

“Oh, so you are family! Which older brother’s son are you?”

Older brother?

Did my father have a younger sister around her age?

My father’s siblings were as numerous as mine, but as far as I knew, only three uncles and one aunt were still alive. And that aunt was far older than this woman.

Wait—

A distant memory flickered in my mind.

The youngest aunt. There was a youngest aunt.

A daughter born to the previous family head late in life, hidden away from the rest of the clan.

Her name was… Yes, Lee Gyeongha.

I vaguely recalled my uncle mentioning her once.

That was before he left the family. Back then, when I had asked about our relatives, he had only spoken briefly about the youngest aunt.

"That child—your aunt—was different from the others. Your grandfather couldn’t accept that. He barely acknowledged me, his illegitimate son, so imagine how he must have felt about her."

“…Hehe.”

She spun in circles, grinning as she curiously examined me from different angles.

I wasn’t sure what kind of expression I should be making.

“My father’s name uses the characters for ‘Tae’ and ‘Shin.’”

“So, you’re the eldest brother’s son. And you speak so formally for someone so young! But I thought he had a daughter? Did your gender change?”

That was an absurd thing to say, but she didn’t seem to be joking.

She genuinely didn’t know.

Calmly, I clarified,

“I came from outside. I’m the ninth child.”

“Oh, just like little brother!”

From outside—meaning I was an illegitimate child.

Even at those words, she didn’t show any reaction.

It had been a long time since I’d met someone, aside from my uncle, who didn’t treat me differently because of my birth.

That, in itself, was a strange feeling.

---

“Little one, my name is… Ah, what was it again? Oh! Right! It’s Lee Gyeongha! Nice to meet you!”

She beamed and stretched out her hand.

I stared blankly at it, and she suddenly pouted.

“You’re supposed to shake hands when you greet someone!”

“…Oh, yes. Of course.”

The moment our hands met, Lee Gyeongha vigorously shook mine with an almost ferocious energy.

Ugh! My arm’s about to pop off!

My shoulder screamed in protest.

As soon as she let go, I clutched my aching shoulder, barely suppressing a groan.

“Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Hmm, you must be weak.”

Grit.

I barely stopped myself from grinding my teeth.

“Oh, by the way, kid.”

After grinning at me for a while, she suddenly stepped closer as if she had just remembered something.

“Yes, Aunt?”

“Where did you learn that?”

Her transparent brown eyes locked onto mine.

I saw my reflection in her gaze.

“Why do you ask?”

“That ancient martial arts. Your dear auntie here loves old martial arts.”

“…What?”

“You see, back in the day, magic techniques weren’t developed, there were no awakenings, no special abilities, no science… But back then, ancient monsters still roamed the land. And in those times…”

She had asked me so suddenly, but now she was rambling on about something completely different.

I had no choice but to play along.

“…So that means it’s quite an impressive sword technique, huh?”

“Yes! That’s why it’s so fascinating. Auntie loves it! By the way, your name was… what was it again? Oh, right! Lee Yeol!”

“…It’s Lee Young, Aunt.”

“Same thing.”

She grinned mischievously.

Then, all of a sudden, she tilted her head.

“Hmm… But why did I come here again? Do you know?”

“…How would I know that?”

Talking to her was exhausting.

“Oh! Right! I saw you swinging a sword while I was passing by. But why did I come home again? Hmm…”

She furrowed her brows as if genuinely struggling to recall.

Then—

She abruptly turned her head, staring blankly into the air.

“Oh, my brother’s calling me. That’s right, I came to see him! I have to go now. It was nice meeting you, nephew. And here—this is a gift. Keep it safe! I’ll come back for it!”

Before I could react, she shoved a thick, well-worn notebook into my arms.

It was old, with Post-it notes and scraps of paper sticking out from between the pages.

I glanced down at it briefly.

And in the moment I looked back up—

She’s already gone?

I whipped my head around, searching for her.

But she had vanished without a trace.

Like a ghost.

I could only shake my head in disbelief.

A gift, huh? What even is this?

Without much thought, I flipped open the notebook.

And the moment my eyes landed on its contents—

I clenched it tightly.

[Translator - Helga ]

[Proofreader - Lucky]