The Arena—the great circular stadium at the heart of Ferma, the Steel City. Usually a place of sweltering heat and roaring crowds, it now stood uncharacteristically silent. The Arena, which normally operated without rest, had shuttered its gates without warning.
Staring at the firmly locked entrance, the residents of the Steel City were consumed by questions. Why would the stadium, which had remained open even during the height of war, suddenly close? Watching the barred gates, the citizens let their imaginations run wild. Perhaps the organizers had offended the Witches during their last summoning and incurred divine punishment. Or perhaps the “Red Bank” of the Black Archipelago had used its massive capital to seize the stadium and was currently gutting it for a remodel.
Groundless rumors drifted between bards and drunkards. They were unreliable, nonsensical stories that no one truly believed, yet the residents spoke of the Arena incessantly. After all, they didn’t need the truth; they needed an entertaining topic to distract them after a long day’s work. Thus, the bards intentionally pushed their imaginations to the limit to craft the most scandalous rumors possible. The more provocative and absurd the tale, the more popular it became.
While countless rumors spread through the Steel City, the truth was known only to the Arena’s insiders. However, not a single official breathed a word to the outside world. This silence only deepened the suspicion. Since ancient times, Arena officials had been mocked as “clowns.” They were, to a man, obsessed with the spotlight—madmen who would sell out their own families for a moment of notoriety.
Yet this time, not a single one of those attention-seekers opened their mouths. Why?
Everyone wondered. Had the Arena issued a stern warning against leaking the truth? But would people who would betray their own kin follow a superior’s orders so faithfully? It was impossible. This phenomenon only served to further amplify the curiosity of the Steel City.
“What on earth happened in there?”
Amidst the swirling rumors, the truth was far more provocative than any fiction. The Arena had not ordered its officials to keep the secret. They hadn’t even suggested it. They had said nothing at all. Nevertheless, everyone kept their mouths shut. It was because what had happened that day was simply too shocking. It was enough to make even the most desperate attention-seeker go mute.
“Ah, ugh, uuugh…”
In the Arena’s living quarters—the dormitories where the planners, announcers, and stage designers stayed—everyone was letting out similar groans of distress. Since that day, they had not stepped foot outside. They huddled in their cramped rooms, afraid even to lift their heads. This was especially true for the Arena’s chief official. For the stadium’s number one “clown,” the situation was dire.
“Ugh, h-heee. Please save me, please save me. I—I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything. I know nothing. Nothing at all.”
Since that day, the chief official would collapse into a fit at the mere glimpse of anything resembling a blade. Even the slightest edge brought back the memory of that moment.
“I… I don’t know. I…”
A night so dark you couldn’t see your own hand. A man who appeared silently through the gloom. A man who sought the “highest-ranking person” while repeating the same words over and over. The various fighters stationed at the Arena and the mercenaries hired to drive out intruders had reacted aggressively the moment they saw him. The man only asked his question once, and when the desired answer didn’t come, he drew a small sword.
Then, a flash of light flickered in the darkness.
“I… I…”
Whenever that flash flickered, the bodies of every living thing nearby collapsed. The chief official remembered that moment vividly. He wasn’t a man; he was a natural disaster. A walking calamity that reaped everything that breathed and moved. While the fighters inside the stadium were reduced to puddles of blood, the man walked steadily toward the chief official and asked the same question. The fear the official felt then defied description. It felt as if an earthquake, a flood, or a typhoon had surged right up to his face and started talking to him.
“I… nothing… nothing…”
The man had asked for one thing.
He was looking for a fighter named Sword Demon Liam. If the official told him the fighter’s location, he would spare his life. He offered no other compensation. The chief official realized that if he didn’t answer correctly, there would be no second question. However, the Arena did not keep personal details on its fighters. Registration was anonymous, and unless a fighter chose to expose their own identity, there was no way to know their whereabouts.
Yet, strangely, on that day, there was a document among the chief official’s stack of papers that contained information on the fighter Sword Demon Liam. It was even placed right at the top of the pile. It was as if someone had placed it there intentionally—so that he could find it even in a state of mental collapse. So that he could give the information to the man at that very moment.
As if possessed, the chief official handed over the document.
The man kept his word.
As soon as he received the information on Sword Demon Liam, he vanished like smoke. The chief official remained slumped on the floor for a long time after the man disappeared. It was only twenty hours later that he finally came to his senses. Because he had been so deeply traumatized, he hadn’t noticed things he normally would have. Only after regaining his composure did he retrace his memories and realize the truth.
He realized two things.
First, the terrifying man who had visited that day was Hugo Rhapsody—one of only five Swordmasters on the continent, the Lord of the Six Free Cities, and the head of House Rhapsody. He hadn’t recognized him then, consumed by terror, but looking back, the face was familiar. The face revealed beneath the old cloth was undoubtedly Hugo Rhapsody.
And the second thing.
The mysterious document that had been placed so conspicuously atop his papers. The handwriting on that paper was of an unusually high quality—the elegant script of the Chervil royalty, the ruling house of the Iron Kingdom…
Connecting the two facts led to a single conclusion. Prince Ian Chervil had woven a web, and Hugo Rhapsody had been snared in it. Knowing that, he could grasp what had happened and predict what was about to occur. He and the other Arena officials had been used as disposable tools for the scheme, and soon, the fighter Sword Demon Liam would be caught in the vortex as well.
But even knowing this, the chief official could do nothing. No one on the continent could hold a Swordmaster accountable. Furthermore, no one living in the Iron Kingdom could hold the Iron Prince accountable. Therefore, there was only one thing the chief official could do: stay holed up in his cramped room, consumed by terror, trembling in fear of the storm that was about to sweep through. He could only pray fervently that he would not be caught in its path again…
“Save me, please…”
Truly, fervently.
* * *
Lord of the Six Free Cities.
I didn’t grasp the weight of that title at first. I only understood after hearing the explanation.
“It is a title used to refer to the head of House Rhapsody.”
“Ah…”
Rhapsody. A Great Family, the descendants of the Idler.
I touched Rhapsody?
I had only been involved with Rhapsody once. The last fighter I faced in the recent Infinite Duel—the one who displayed overwhelming skill and used the sword of “Rhapsody.” If there was a connection between me and Rhapsody, that had to be it.
However…
“Touched? Does House Rhapsody use the word ‘touched’ to describe a fair duel fought after making a warrior’s oath? And do they come to someone else’s territory to retaliate just because they lost a duel?”
It was absurd to use the word “touched” for a duel with some unknown Young Master of Rhapsody. At my words, the knight radiated a sharp killing intent. It was a terrifying aura that made my skin crawl.
“A fair duel? You’ve gone mad.”
“Aren’t you the one who’s mad? I won in a fair duel. I even made a warrior’s oath to the Goddess Lefri. And yet, the knights of the family raid a territory just because of a loss? You even killed an innocent guard and brought indelible disgrace to another. Does House Rhapsody have no honor? Is this allowed just because you are one of the Five Families?”
I spoke with total sincerity. At my blunt words, the knight began to growl like a wild beast.
“I don’t believe such nonsense. We only believe the words of the Young Master and our Lord. Our Lord said: ‘Show the fighter Sword Demon Liam the wrath of Rhapsody.’ The Young Master said: ‘Avenge me and my faithful butler, Joseph.'”
“…”
“Lowly fighter, from this moment on, you will learn exactly who you dared to touch.”
They had no intention of listening. In the end, we had to draw our swords.
Immediately after the conversation ended, the thirty or so knights each took up their weapons. I felt it instinctively. Every single one of the dozens of men standing there was a “Sword Runner”—beings who served as the standard for the strong on the continent. The fighting spirit emitted by dozens of such warriors was immense. Just facing it felt like my breath would stop.
But I had no intention of backing down.
“You will regret this as well.”
Unreasonableness. A world gone wrong.
I held my sword to thrust it into a world that offered such bizarre answers. Before me stood a form of violence that was beyond unreasonable—arrogant knights who were the very epitome of a world gone wrong, trampling the weak while believing only in their own authority.
“You should have come straight for me instead. Not a guard who was innocent, who didn’t know how to resist, and was simply trying to do his duty. You should have come for me.”
I spoke from the bottom of my heart.
The moment I finished speaking, their swords surged forward. The knight at the very front thrust his blade. It was a familiar Path—the same sword the Young Master of Rhapsody had shown me in the Infinite Duel. But unlike the Young Master’s sword, which moved like a living creature, this knight’s sword was stiff and predictable.
Clang!
The sound of clashing steel rang out. Parrying the knight’s sword wasn’t difficult. I was already in the middle of mastering the subtleties of “Connection” and finding my sparring sessions with Seol-yoon much easier. If I couldn’t see through such a clumsy sword, I might as well give up swordsmanship immediately.
However…
“You!”
There wasn’t just one sword. They had no sense of chivalry. No, considering they hadn’t even declared a formal duel in the first place, perhaps this was only natural. All thirty knights rushed me at once.
The moment I opened my eyes, my world was flooded with “Paths.” Every single Path stretching toward me belonged to a Sword Runner. Could I parry them all? It was impossible. But I had a weapon that could break through this situation.
『My life was like a single breath of wind.』
Gale.
The moment the wind whipped into a frenzy, the Paths surging toward me began to tangle and fray, collapsing into a complete mess.
