The Unnamed God. I'm really Not a God You Guys!

Chapter 12: Dragon slaughtering legendary sword

**** (POV)

Every day is training day. Either honing myself or teaching others. This is the life I've chosen. Every day is fulfilling.

But there is one thing. Lately it has been dull. (҂⌣̀_⌣́)

In the past I used to oversee the training main army. It was excruciating. Bunch of spineless useless cowards. Not even able to follow a simple regiment. The whole of them giving up after a few deaths.

My sole task now is to teach the instructors and our elites. But it has been a while since I trained anyone worth my time. The last one was the sectmaster's daughter. The way she handles the sword is a work of art. Sadly, I have nothing to teach her anymore. Our paths are different. I am training a pure physical branch. That's how I became an accomplished martial artist. By swinging a sword. Over and over and over. Of course, by now I know how to wield any weapon in existence. The sectmaster says it's my spirit of 2 that hinders my physique from going over 3. Well only other chance would be for me to get a divine body enhancement material. I gave up on that. These kinds of things surface once a millennium at best.

Now I'm just hoping to train a successor. Luna is a genius. I can't teach her. She is already able to fuse magic formations to her sword. The last guy I actually taught…..that guy that got killed for torturing the champion …..didn't even last a day. The champion. When I heard I'd train him was the happiest day of my life. It did come crashing down fast when I met him. He was horrible. The. Absolute. Worst. The human personification of weak. The spineless rubble…. actually, look good compared to him. I was hoping for a miracle. Maybe my intuition is off for once. Maybe he actually has potential.

Then I tested him. It was a disaster. He couldn't even see my attacks. That isn't actually a big deal. A low starting point can be made up with effort. The issue is that even after a few minutes of me roughing him up he showed no improvement. None at all!

Even a child would learn to dodge after a few hits. Not him. He is the worst. Simply the worst.

That day I ended up drinking again. I drowned my sorrows in the alcohol. I drank more than the day my brothers in arms died. I drank more than the day my wife perished. I drank more than….and for once I passed out from drinking. An absolute fucking disgrace.

The next morning, I got up. And trained as usual. I still had training. The pleasant sensation of slowly honing my muscles through sheer effort. A small part of me died. Such is life. Who needs dreams anyway?

****

Today the champion challenged me to a duel. It has been a month since I last saw him. He's been training with Grey or so I heard. I don't care much. I guess he wants to show me his attainments in magic. It seems pretty stupid to me. A warrior duel is sacred. Two opponents coming at each other with the intent to kill. Of course, normally there would be many healers on duty in an official challenge like so. I bet he used the word lightly by mistake. Either way. I'll teach him not to toy with a warrior's pride. So what if he has been learning magic? So what if he has some small achievements in it? Today I'll beat him up. Leave him half dead. Then I'll drink. Drink for my lost hopes.

We face each other. He looks confident. Rookie mistake. This is a small courtyard. There is nowhere to run. Even someone like the sectmaster wouldn't dare fight me in a place like this. And he's a rank 4. Grey would actually wipe the floor with me, but only if he was already casting before the fight began. Well Grey always has a spell ready. Especially when he sleeps.

The youngling has nothing. No power. No magic prepared either. Just a boundless baseless confidence.

The fight begins. He hasn't even moved. I hit him. Hard. He won't die. Barely.

Now he's gotta be cry…. smiling?!

I hit him again. He's fine. And again. And again.

I start adding kicks to my series of punches. He's…. fine ?!

I punch. And I punch. And I punch. And I kick. And I kick. And I kick.

He's not hurt at all?!!!

What in the Lunar goddess' name is happening?

He's getting bounced all over the place.

All over. All over the fucking courtyard!

But he's smiling.

He's fucking grinning

WHAT THE FUCK !

I increase the speed. I increase the power. Slowly at first. Then by a lot.

I'm already at 50% capabilities.

60 %. His breathing is steady.

70% His face is peaceful.

80% He looks like he's getting a massage.

90% WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK !

WHAT THE FUCK

HAHAHAHAHAHA

LET ME SEE YOU SURVIVE THIS!!!!

I grab my sword. It's simply a hilt. At first glance anyway. It's actually a legendary sword. I'm the only one in the sect that can activate it. The only one with the qualifications. Probably the only one in the entire continent. This sword is the one I've used to slaughter a dragon. This one is the sword I've used to annihilate the entire following of a quasi-god. This sword is the reason I'm as strong as a rank 4. I pour all my energy into it. A fiery blade appears. The flame does not produce heat. It simply is the representation of my will. Fiery, but controlled. Sharp and unbreakable. Stronger than anything.

And then I swing. 100%

The courtyard becomes silent. The world itself seems to be breaking. This one slash fractures the space. Enough power to destroy the entire Moon Keep. But all condensed. So condensed that no one beside us two could possibly sense it. All aimed at the champion. Enough to cleave a demi-god in half.

I smile proudly! Then it hits me….

WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE. IT'S TOO LATE TO STOP IT.

*SLASH*

His eyes are closed. He is breathing peacefully. He is smiling.

*THUD* *PANT* *PANT*

I fall to the ground in exhaustion. My sword becomes a simple hilt again.

He gets up like nothing happened.

He's stretching comfortably. ( ￣▼￣)

....

(◎_◎)

....

The absolute worst.