The Story of a Low-Rank Soldier Becoming a Monarch

When I was 15, I lost my right hand on the battlefield. When I was 24, I mastered the skills that were necessary for my survival. But I was always told the same things, over and over: “Just quit. I’ll gray even faster if I try to teach you sōjutsu.” “But if you weren’t disabled, you could’ve learned anything you wanted, with nothing holding you back.” “Hey, let’s just collect herbs. Why are you so obsessed with swordsmanship?” “Just live like everybody else.” When I was 39, I lost my left hand and fell off a cliff. And when I swallowed the Artifact I had no knowledge about…