Dark Fantasy Normalized-Chapter 89: Blue Lotus

"Now what should I do."

Though everything had been resolved smoothly, one lingering anxiety remained for Lisir.

It was the simple fact that — this entire outcome had been built atop a flimsy, hastily improvised excuse.

No matter what, the reality didn’t change: Rodan was still, in a sense, the rightful owner of the Blue Lotus.

And as long as the Ego Sword remained in his hands, there was no telling when things might spiral out of control and the truth might be revealed.

If Rodan realizes the truth?

Lisir had already felt the sheer terror of death when Rodan merely pretended to draw his sword — if that human disaster were to truly lose his mind, death would be a foregone conclusion.

Thus, Lisir was desperately devising a plan to eliminate his anxieties completely.

A way to formally transfer full ownership of the Blue Lotus to himself.

—This sword is already bound to me.

—Oh, then I guess it’s yours now.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that simple.

The Blue Lotus was a masterpiece imbued with magical power. Moreover, it was the beloved sword symbolizing the Outer Sword himself, a weapon filled with memories of his master.

Even if Rodan believed that the master's spirit sealed within the sword had vanished, its value wouldn't just disappear.

If anything, it might feel even more precious as the master's final remnant.

Ugh... how am I supposed to...

Lisir silently agonized as he stared at the fallen Blue Lotus.

"..."

Rodan approached, bent down, and picked up the Blue Lotus.

"Lisir."

He then carefully slid the Blue Lotus back into its scabbard and held it out toward Lisir.

The meaning behind the gesture was crystal clear.

"Rodan?"

Rodan simply nodded in response.

"How could I possibly..."

Lisir faltered, looking flustered. ...On the surface, that is.

Oh, sweet bliss.

Is this really happening?

Lisir barely managed to suppress the twitch at the corner of his mouth. But alongside his glee, a troubling doubt gnawed at him.

The situation had unfolded a little too smoothly. Before celebrating, he needed to first understand Rodan's true intentions.

Meeting Lisir’s questioning gaze, Rodan nodded as if to say he understood — and with a bitter smile, he spoke.

"Master probably would have wanted it this way too."

Clench.

Rodan’s hand, gripping the Blue Lotus, tensed for a moment — but he forced himself to relax his grip.

"Ah..."

Only then did Lisir fully understand Rodan’s actions.

Of course, Rodan felt a deep attachment to the Blue Lotus — so much so that he wouldn’t want to hand it over to anyone else.

Yet he chose to give it up — because the space the master occupied within him was even greater.

Rodan could no longer hear her voice. Could no longer feel her presence.

Thus, he could only guess — only imagine.

What would Master have done? If she were still here, what would she have wanted?

In that sense, the act of handing over the Blue Lotus was less Rodan’s will, and more an act of following what he believed to be the master’s will.

—You fool... What kind of swordsman just gives away a masterpiece like that... If anything, you should have drawn blood and seized it by force, as befits a swordsman...

"..."

Lisir thought to himself:

I don't know what kind °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° of person his master was — but she must have been truly remarkable.

"You think so too, don't you?"

Regardless, there was no reason not to ride along when the opponent had laid out the board so nicely.

How should I guide this situation to a desirable end?

After a brief moment of thought, Lisir spoke.

"I don't know your master nearly as well as you do. All the experiences I shared with her amount to nothing more than a few conversations — and even most of those were about you."

"..."

Lisir caught it clearly:

Rodan’s lips, which had been slightly protruding in discontent, now tucked themselves back inward.

The corners of his mouth twitched subtly.

Just as expected — Rodan seemed to be feeling no small amount of jealousy about the attention his master had paid to Lisir.

He’s probably thinking: 'Why didn't Master tell me directly instead of through that guy?'

Lisir sensed the need to dispel that jealousy.

It made sense —

After all, looking back on everything that had happened, there were plenty of oddities. And dissatisfaction breeds suspicion.

Right now, Rodan was faithfully following what he believed to be his master's will, handing over the sword — but if dissatisfaction began festering later, it was only a matter of time before suspicion took root and consumed everything like wildfire.

Therefore—

"What did Master say about me?"

Lisir decided to fully satisfy him.

No one digs up and reexamines a pleasant memory just to find fault with it.

"She said about you..."

Lisir chuckled softly.

Anyone watching would have seen the image of a man fondly recalling a proud, boastful guardian.

"She talked endlessly about how different you were from 'us.'"

"'Us'?"

"Yes.

Your master referred to herself and me as 'us.'"

"..."

Lisir wasn’t lying.

He was merely... polishing the delivery.

Thus, the wretched soul who had hurled curses behind her disciple's back — transformed into a stern yet affectionate true master who had proudly boasted about her beloved disciple when no one was looking.

The process repeated several times over.

"..."

And as it continued, Rodan’s expression gradually softened.

The Swordmaster, who just moments ago had been reluctantly surrendering his treasured sword, was no longer there.

In his place stood a man — simply basking in the glow of happiness.

This should be enough.

Time to close it out.

Lisir brought out the words he had prepared.

"When I saw how much she talked about you, it made me wish... that someday, someone would talk about me like that too."

Lisir deliberately let his voice trail off, as if embarrassed.

In doing so, he kept his vow — to never, ever tell a direct lie, even to the very end.

What the hell is this guy...

The murderous spirit, watching all of this unfold from within Lisir’s inner world, was appalled.

This easygoing-looking brat — the way he twisted the truth and manipulated hearts wasn't much different from the most corrupt high priests who could even deceive the gods themselves.

"Lisir."

Rodan grabbed Lisir’s shoulders.

It was the unmistakable expression of a man basking in praise from his superiors, now showing off in front of his junior.

"You’ll definitely be able to become like that too."

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course. Otherwise, why would she have chosen to borrow your body?"

Rodan once again offered the Blue Lotus.

Unlike before, his grip was light, filled with cheerful emotion. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

"Lisir. Please accept this sword."

This was no longer merely an act of following his master's will. His eager attitude now carried clear personal intent.

The Swordmaster had decided — to pass the sword to the adorable junior who shared the same master.

"...Understood. I will do my best not to bring shame to you or to her."

Seeing Lisir accept the sword and nod solemnly, the smile on the Swordmaster’s lips grew even deeper.

Now, there was no room for other interpretations.

He was gazing at Lisir with the unmistakable expression of a man looking fondly upon a precious junior.

Grab!

Rodan seized both of Lisir’s shoulders with a hearty grip.

In his single eye, affection was overflowing.

"Lisir, did you know? You probably don't — but in front of me, she always kept a strict face. Perhaps she worried I'd grow arrogant — but she never once gave me even a small word of praise. She never even called me her disciple."

Rodan smiled wryly.

"In that sense — you’re a better man than I am. Because she called you her disciple with her own voice."

Then Rodan pulled something from his breast pocket and handed it to Lisir.

It was a well-worn notebook, marked with the passage of countless hands.

"This is...?"

"It’s a written compilation. It lays out the movements and principles that form the foundation of my sword, approached from a surface-level perspective. You could call it the traces of my struggle for enlightenment. It’s already served its purpose for me — so I'm giving it to you. I can't guarantee anything, but maybe it will help you."

"...!"

Lisir’s eyes widened.

He talks about it like it’s some scrap — but this is basically a personal textbook containing a Swordmaster’s teachings. And it’s the only one of its kind—!

Originally hailing from a family of swordsmen, Lisir immediately recognized the value of what Rodan had just casually handed him.

Had his past self seen this notebook, his eyes would have rolled back in madness.

No — not just him.

Even other knights would likely have gone crazy over it.

It was a treasure more than enough to steal away a swordsman's rationality.

If someone tossed that notebook into a crowd of knights and said, "Fight to the death for it," there might not be a single one left standing.

"I’ll gratefully accept it!"

Lisir carefully tucked the notebook away, thinking to himself:

But wait... If I read this, what’s my status now? Am I Rodan’s disciple too? Or am I still pretending to be Rodan’s master? Or... does that make me both Rodan’s disciple and his master...?

Feeling his brain starting to twist into knots, Lisir wisely decided to stop thinking about it.

"Hahaha! A bold spirit befitting your vessel! Yes! A man like you ought to be that way! I like that about you!"

Rodan laughed heartily.

"Since you accepted it with such boldness— Oi, Pyun! If there’s anything in the shop that suits this guy, give it to him appropriately."

Rodan tossed a pouch casually onto the counter.

Before leaving the shop, he turned to Lisir once more.

"Lisir. It’s been a pleasure."

"From now on, I’m planning to spend time organizing the enlightenment I've gained today."

"The first step, naturally, will be to look back on the path I’ve walked so far."

"In that sense—I want to thank you again."

"Lisir, if you hadn’t thwarted the cultists' plan — if you hadn’t convinced me back there — I would have crossed a river I could never return from."

"I wouldn’t have been able to face my master again, either."

"Please convey my thanks — and my apologies — to your friends as well."

"I should properly visit them to do it myself, but—"

Rodan let out a sheepish laugh.

"That’s not exactly something I'm used to."

"..."

Lisir responded with a light smile.

He had a point.

If Rodan barged in intending to apologize, they would probably be more terrified than happy.

Of course, if they saw him as he was now — they might think differently.

"So — Lisir. If fate allows, let’s meet again someday. Under better circumstances than today."

And with that, the Swordmaster left.

At the same time, someone else was approaching Lisir at a frightening pace.

It was Pyun, the Dwarven girl.

The owner of the armory shop moved her small body in quick strides until she stood directly in front of Lisir.

The chance to personally offer one of my weapons to the genius swordsman recognized by the Outer Sword, who was entrusted with an Ego Sword—!!!

Brother!

She practically shouted in her heart.

With sparkling eyes, she looked up at the human man standing before her.

"You heard the Outer Sword, right? If there’s anything you want — don’t hold back, just say it! Take your time and look around!"

"..."

Lisir, still somewhat overwhelmed, began to look around the shop.

Please, please!!!

Pyun prayed fervently.

Please show interest in something I made...!

"Um, excuse me—"

"Yes! What is it!? Anything you want!?"

"Do you happen to carry magic staves?"

"...?"

***

Afterward, Lisir immediately returned to Councilor Ran’s mansion to report the situation.

"Lisir!"

Ran — along with the other three major figures — rushed out to greet him.

"Are you okay!? That lunatic didn’t do anything crazy to you, did he!?"

Shakan and the others stared at Lisir as if he were a ghost.

The Swordmaster Outer Sword.

Someone dragged off by that madman — had returned unharmed.

It was a sight so shocking, words hardly sufficed.

"Huh...?"

Then, their eyes fell upon Lisir’s waist.

Hanging there was a sword — something that hadn’t been there before.

As far as they knew, Lisir was a magician.

So why was he carrying a sword now?

Moreover — it wasn’t an ordinary sword.

The sheath, elegantly engraved with the motif of a blue flower, was a work of art in itself.

"...Wait a second."

In that moment, a certain sword’s name came to mind.

The Blue Lotus.

The beloved sword that symbolized the "Outer" in Outer Sword.

"No way...

Is that the Blue Lotus...?"

"Oh, you recognize it?"

"...!"

The young magician — dragged off by the Swordmaster — had returned safely...

Holding the Swordmaster’s own treasured sword.

"Everyone?"

City Councilor Ran. The three great powers. Even the nearby butlers and maids standing guard —

One by one, they instinctively took a step back from the young magician.