Chapter 1 (1/2)

Soul Eater of the Rebellion 1

Trial Cere, the sounds echoed as a wooden sword rolled on the ground

I stared at my own hands that have been emptied in a daze

At that point, the referee's voice felt strangely far away

It was a match that I had to win

But I had completely lost The wooden sas knocked out of my hand in just one round

Thirteen years old–it was the coe trial ceremony for the pupils of the phantoon tooth warrior- a skeletal swordsic

It wasn't weak On the contrary, even a regular soldier of the e it one on one It can be said that it wasn't an opponent irls

However, there was no one in this place ould have any doubts facing an opponent like that

For the pupils of the phantom blade, an opponent of this level should be a sure win for them In fact, the other seven people had won

There was only one person who lost

All the hard work that I had accumulated for today All my efforts that I had put in for this moment over the last

When I hungout of my mouth, the voice of my father came from above

It was a deep, cold, dry voice

「–Sora」

「Y-Yes, Father!」

「The Mitsurugi household is a house of ancient warriors led by sword saints who have sealed away demons for three hundred years The phanto that our ancestors risked their lives to create It's the blade that protects iants, and deerous as natural disasters And so, our fauard the eate Were you aware of this?」

「I-I ai house have the obligation to inherit the founder's sword And then, they have the responsibility to pass the sword to the next generation Those who cannot fulfill these two duties have no place in this household」

「F-father…」

「The people who can't pass this trial ceremony do not qualify to learn the phantom blade style And those who don't train in the phantoi naer allowed to use the na your stuff today and you will leave this island tomorrow The weak are unnecessary in this place」

He banished his own biological son without a second thought in an indifferent tone

There was not a single sign of being troubled on father's– The seventeenth generation sword saint of the Mitsurugi warrior tribe's- face He looked at round

For a father who has devoted his life to the sword, a man as not a swordsman would be equal to dust to him, even if it was his son

…I know that

For as far back as I could remember, he has always looked at me that way No matter how dense a child is, they would eventually understand

I have been trying nize me

However, it did not work out in the end

No e There was no use in crying, groveling, or begging for mercy

It wasn't only my father who felt that way The ht were also looking at me with cold eyes

Scorn, contempt, pity, indifference…

It was just as o The demons that were sealed by the sword saints continued to encroach upon this world through the deate