Jobless Reincarnation: The King with a Mental Problem

[Several months later]

It was still dark.

There were no lights in the main training ground; only the grayish-white light reflected from the snow through the windows.

The king stood in the center of the dojo, holding a sword in his hand. The white breath he exhaled dispersed in front of him, only to be torn apart by the wind from the swing of his sword.

One sword.

Another sword strike.

It's just the most basic, simplest chopping.

The sword's edge slices from the top of the head to the waist, and then back from the waist to the top of the head.

Once.

One more time.

Snow drifted in through the window, landed on my shoulders, melted into water, and was evaporated by my body heat.

Before long, another layer fell on my shoulders, melted, and steamed again.

I can't be bothered with these things, because my heart is in a state of great unease!

This kind of practice of swinging in the air is really stupid; it doesn't develop any technique at all!

What Old Deng meant was that his skills were now up to par, but his physical condition and age were holding him back. If he had to say what he was lacking, it would be the heart of a strongman.

And perhaps empty swings can help me find the heart of that so-called strongman.

This is really hard to understand...

Unfortunately, among all the people I know, none are more professional in swordsmanship than him.

So Wang continued to swing in the air...

The calluses on my hands would wear out, heal, wear out again, heal again...

Last night, when Lilia changed my bandages, she frowned and glanced at me without saying a word.

I didn't say anything either.

Because there's really not much to say...

"Wow! You're up early!"

A voice came from behind; it was Sword God Lao Deng.

Wang stopped his practice swinging, put on a stern face, and turned to look at the old man who had spoken.

He was wearing a coat, and his hair was messy, as if he had just crawled out of bed.

He walked to a corner of the dojo, leaned against a pillar, and yawned.

Looking at his pathetic appearance, the king's anger flared up!

"It's all because you're an idiot, old Deng! You can't even speak properly! What kind of bullshit is this 'wielding your sword for yourself'? Did you think you were a philosopher when you said that?"

"If you're really that smart, can't you figure out what I mean by yourself?!"

Despite his foul mouth, I acknowledge Old Deng's skill; every time I fight him, I learn something...

Although Old Deng was also cursing, he straightened up from the pillar, picked up the wooden sword leaning against the wall, and walked to the opposite side of the king.

That's right. Since languages ​​are difficult to understand, let's use swords to explain!

I, the King, am getting into position.

Old Deng's sword hung lazily at his side, without him even lifting it.

The Silent Katana – from the initial strike to the exertion of force, it was executed in one fluid motion, the blade tearing through the air, heading straight for his shoulder.

This is the fastest sword strike I can deliver after months of practice.

Even this old Deng, technically speaking, is impeccable.

but......

The sword missed its mark.

His wooden sword was already pressed against my neck, icy cold, like a snake.

"Look," he said, "you've seen the opening, and you've already figured out how to strike, but your body can't keep up. By the time you swing your sword, my sword is already here."

"I know about this!"

Wang was really angry. His mind worked faster than his body, and by the time he acted, the opportunity had already passed.

Is this my fault?

Is it because I'm too smart?

If I had to blame someone, it would be my body that's too useless!

For the past few months, I have been conducting research within the inherent barrier every night, but I am still far, far away from achieving any results.

I can't even understand many of the words right now...

"cut!"

Old Deng put the wooden sword away and leaned it back against the pillar.

"What's the rush, you little brat?"

"I can't just kill you with a single blow!"

"Tch! You think you can take me?" Old Deng closed his eyes. "You're overthinking it. Don't think when you're swinging your sword; let your body do the work."

"Who would understand this?"

When you were learning to walk as a child, did you ever think about whether to step with your left or right foot first?

"……No."

"Yes, because you didn't think about it, your body just did it on its own. It's the same with swords. Don't think about 'what's the next move,' just let the sword do its own thing."

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, but found that I couldn't speak, because I couldn't do it.

Old Deng opened his eyes and glanced at me.

"What kind of bullshit genius is this? I've explained it so clearly."

"...Old Deng, you're being too abstract."

"It's not that what I'm saying is abstract, it's that your mind is too rigid."

He planted the wooden sword in the ground and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Can't you trust your sword just this once? And what's your rush?"

With your skills, it won't be long before you become a sword saint.

It's only a matter of time before he becomes the Sword King or Sword Emperor.

You have plenty of time to find the heart of the strong, to find what is truly yours, and then maybe...

"You can kill me then..."

Wang could not give a response...

Old Deng shook his head, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

Wang stood in the center of the dojo, gripping his sword, watching his figure disappear at the end of the corridor.

What a lot of time...

What makes the sword move on its own...?

What do you mean by believing in your own sword...?

That sounds nice.

What profound truths could a fool who would spend the money meant for healing scrolls on home renovations possibly understand?

The king was so certain of this.

These days, I go to the dojo before dawn every day, practice my sword until daybreak, and then spar with Old Deng—I get knocked away by him, get up, get knocked away again, and get up again.

Old Deng is actually quite good to me; he spends a lot of time sparring with me every day.

It's a pity he's an idiot...

After wielding the sword, one still needs to read books—those piles of knowledge left behind by [something], knowledge as cryptic as heavenly scripture.

In my past life, I wasn't a top student, and I forgot all my knowledge after just a few years of working...

Ugh......

Every night, I would stare at those densely packed words and study them one by one.

The pressure is immense, and Lilia's belly is growing big. I ordered her to stay put, but she still keeps bringing me in a cup of hot tea without me even noticing...

I don't even have the energy to drink tea.

As soon as I stare at those words, my mind goes completely blank.

And now...

Nina, that old hag, is causing trouble again.

I roughly know why she was causing trouble; it's because Old Deng, following my advice, started to discipline her, and he's been...very strict with her...

"Hey, isn't this the genius? Why do you look so disheveled again today?"

I can't be bothered with her...

"I heard you got slapped by Father again? How many times? A hundred times? Two hundred times?"

I can't remember...

"You know, the main dojo isn't a place someone with your strength can just walk into. You haven't won a single sparring match, have you? You've got some nerve, Shadow King~~~"

Is this guy just asking for a beating?

"Oh, by the way, I heard you got one of the maids pregnant? You Greratter guys are really something!"

Yes, indeed, I am awesome...

"Her children will definitely be just as ill-mannered as you!"

Wang stopped and turned to look at the guy who was asking for a beating.

Say it again.

"..."

"I said—say it again."

"..."

"What? You don't even dare to speak after I just glanced at you?"

"...I, I..."

Wang, holding the sword hilt, approached the fool.

"To me, you are no different from a barking dog on the street."

Logically speaking, I shouldn't be telling you these things, because it might be a waste of time, and what I lack most right now is time!

But! If a dog dares to bite someone, that dog should die!

Did you understand?

To be honest, I have never cared what others think of me, but if Aisha is bullied after she is born, that's another matter. I have long been determined to give her a happy childhood. Mentioning her and her mother is crossing my bottom line.

This is just a warning; next time, I will give her a good beating!

But she still cried...

Before me...

She squatted there, burying her face in her knees, her shoulders shaking as she made a soft, kitten-like sound.

Oh shit!

How did Old Deng raise his kids?!

Pooh!

What the hell is it to me!

Wang turned and left!

After walking a few steps, I suddenly felt a gaze upon me.

I stopped and turned my head.

At the corner of the dojo, a head shrank back.

Very light, very fast, like a mouse.

I stood here for a few seconds, and then that head popped out again.

He's a... brat...

His eyes are big, but his gaze... I can't quite put my finger on it.

It's like watching something interesting, yet also like watching something uninteresting.

Could it be?

Is he the Sword God of Pure Love?

But right now... he's just a kid...