The war between the Iron Kingdom and the Machine Empire unfolded in a way that defied all expectations. Most observers had predicted that the Iron Kingdom would seek a middle ground through reasonable negotiations, end the conflict, and pivot toward diplomacy. Logically, it was the only move that made sense. The Iron Kingdom held the goose that laid the golden eggs: the Six Free Cities. By simply reaping the steady profits from those hubs, they could rapidly ascend to the status of a true superpower. Thus, it was expected they would swallow a few immediate losses—even if it meant ceding territory to the Machine Empire—for the sake of long-term dominance.
However, the Iron Kingdom did not back down.
After abandoning their worthless outskirts, they concentrated their forces in the center and launched a counteroffensive that shattered the Machine Empire’s front lines. The Machine Empire, which specialized in guerrilla warfare, stood no chance against the Iron Kingdom in a head-on collision. Through years of grueling conflict, the Iron Kingdom’s Steel Legion had developed sophisticated anti-magic countermeasures. From the very beginning, the Steel Legion had been one of the most formidable ground forces on the continent in terms of raw, crushing power.
Caught off guard by this sudden aggression, the Machine Empire attempted to negotiate several times. They even begged for a ceasefire, offering to return much of what they had seized. The Empire was in no position to sustain a war of attrition. Public approval for the Masters of the Machine Empire was plummeting by the day. With resources drying up and the economy on the brink of collapse, the Empire was desperate for a truce. Yet, the Iron Kingdom flatly rejected every overture, acting as if they had been possessed by a demon of war.
The Machine Empire was left staring into the abyss of a hellish dilemma.
They could surrender to the Iron Kingdom and lose everything.
Or, they could squeeze out every last drop of their national strength for a total war.
If they chose the latter, their chances of victory were abysmal. The Iron Kingdom had a bottomless well of supplies flowing in through the Six Free Cities. More importantly, the Iron Kingdom was not a nation that elected its leaders through ballots like the Machine Empire; it was a monarchy ruled by a single sovereign. Furthermore, the current Iron Prince, Ian Chervil, wielded absolute royal authority. Whether they fought a total war or not, there would be no coup. Even if they emerged victorious from a pile of rubble, the citizens would cheer. The Iron Kingdom of Chervil was, after all, a nation built on the logic of power.
The Machine Empire was different. Its citizens, most of whom were highly educated university graduates, would fiercely criticize the government even in victory if the cost was too high. If a total war were declared, they wouldn’t enlist; they would protest or seek asylum in the Sky Empire. The Sky Empire would likely welcome them with open arms, eager to absorb the Machine Empire’s advanced magitech.
Yet, they could not choose surrender either.
If the Machine Empire knelt, the Iron Kingdom would dismantle and devour every asset the country possessed. There would be no second chance. The Iron Kingdom would emerge as the undisputed hegemon of the Western Continent, and a Great Steel Empire would be born, erasing the name of the Machine Empire and subjugating its people forever. Of course, the Masters weren’t actually worried about the fate of the nation. They were merely terrified that their status would vanish and the luxury they enjoyed would evaporate.
And so, the Masters chose the latter: total war.
The reason was simple. A total war is a long, agonizing struggle, and the Masters—whose average age was seventy-two—judged that the war would likely outlast them. In other words, the fallout would be someone else’s problem. Everything would be left for the next generation of Masters… or the common citizens to handle. From their perspective, it was a brilliant deal. Once total war began, the people would suffer, but the Masters would seize emergency powers and immense authority. They could use that leverage to hoard wealth and help their descendants flee. There were plenty of other countries where one could live like a king as long as they had the gold…
And so, innocent blood began to soak the soil of the Western Continent.
Of course.
“Oh, for f—…”
The current Arhan had no way of knowing any of that.
“Argh!”
And he wasn’t in a position where he could afford to care, anyway.
*
I was certain of one thing.
The ordeal I was facing this time was a trial of suppressing my rage and swallowing my curses. For the first time in a long while, I had to choke down the profanities rising in my throat. To think I was the only one suffering like this in the Southern Continent—a literal paradise famous as a world-class tourist destination? I glared at my Master, who was flickering behind me and snickering. If I could, I really wanted to punch him just once. Seriously, just one hit…
「Why are you so heated, young descendant?」
“How could I not be heated?!”
Why was I so angry?
To explain that, I have to go back a bit.
‘You should be careful, Lord Arhan.’
Using the power of the Golden Star, I had confirmed the location of the sword I needed. I didn’t hear a specific coordinate or see a vision; the knowledge was simply imprinted into my mind. However, because the constraints of the Golden Star had begun, I couldn’t speak of that location. I couldn’t even hint at it through writing. The core constraint of the Golden Star was that I had to ‘reach my desire using only my own strength, without the help of others.’ Naturally, there were plenty of other petty restrictions tacked on as well.
‘Leave Gaia’s Sword with me and take this instead.’
‘It’s a cheap piece of junk.’
‘…But right now, this is the only thing you can carry, Lord Arhan.’
‘……’
Gaia’s Sword. The Sky Armor I received from Zeppelin Gold. My magic-enchanted daggers. I had to leave every piece of high-tier equipment that made me strong behind in the port city of Vicente. It was all because of those damn constraints. This was the authority of the Gold family—the family that literally worshipped gold—so why the hell wouldn’t it let me benefit from my gear? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Why did I have to set out on a journey carrying a cheap iron sword I would have used back when I was a mere Sword Beginner?
‘Shall I hire a reliable mercenary to accompany you?’
‘No, you know that’s not allowed.’
‘Yes, I know. I just asked to be polite. Haha.’
‘……’
‘Don’t… don’t look at me like that.’
I couldn’t take any companions either.
I didn’t fully grasp the weight of it when I first heard it from Zeppelin Gold, but once I felt the constraints of the Golden Star on my own body, it became painfully clear. The moment I set out with a companion, the trial would become even harsher. It was already bad enough; I couldn’t risk making it worse. I’d rather go alone.
Of course, Zeppelin Gold knew that too.
Seeing him act so cheeky while knowing exactly how screwed I was made me want to send him back to the Land of Swords immediately. It seemed Master’s “mental education” had been softer than I thought. But as long as Zeppelin Gold didn’t betray me, there was no way to fix his attitude. Damn it.
‘Anyway, please travel safely, Lord Arhan. When you return, I’ll treat you to a “Zeppelin Full Course” tour. An Emperor-grade experience that would make the sovereign of the Sky Empire bow in gratitude.’
It was a high-class joke that would surely make the people of the Sky Empire challenge him to a duel on the spot. With that send-off from Zeppelin Gold, who cracked terrifying jokes worthy of the Great Five Families, I left the port city of Vicente and headed toward the western reaches of the Southern Continent.
I had only one guide.
The mark of the Golden Star engraved on my wrist. A brilliant needle resembling a compass, pointing toward the sword I needed. This needle only indicated the direction, and thanks to that, I nearly ran into the Crusaders four times after leaving Vicente.
‘He said their numbers had decreased…’
According to Zeppelin Gold, the Crusader Order was currently in chaos. Thus, the number of Crusaders spread across the Southern Continent should have plummeted. However, there were so many of them that it made his words seem like a lie. They were everywhere, like a swarm of locusts.
“Just go already, damn it.”
I peeked at the Crusaders while hiding behind a rock.
Normally, they were fodder I could have mowed down with a single swing. But right now, I couldn’t face them. To be precise, I wasn’t allowed to face them. Why?
‘Damn it.’
Because of what the Golden Star took from me in exchange for the sword’s location.
「Tsk, tsk. To think a Caravan is scurrying around like a mouse.」
“…Please, stop taunting me. You knew, didn’t you, Master? You knew I would end up like this as the price for the Golden Star. There’s no way you didn’t. I should have known the moment you started smirking, saying I could get a trial and a sword at the same time.”
「Oho, “smirking” at an ancestor from the age of myth?」
“Ah, I haven’t been messed with lately, so I let my guard down. Son of a b—…”
「I told you to stop at “son of a,” didn’t I?」
My power.
「Please, stop talking. Why do you have so much to say? Uh-oh, those Crusaders are coming because they heard your voice. Run like your tail’s on fire.」
“Sh—!”
A restriction had been placed on my strength.
To be more precise…
「Tsk, tsk. I wonder who he takes after, being so talkative and foul-mouthed.」
My body right now…
Had returned to the state it was in before I met Master and picked up a sword.
Meaning—
「Have some class, boy. Some class.」
“Please, just shut up for a second.”
I was back to my bottom-of-the-barrel days.
*
The western part of the Southern Continent.
Specifically, the western land known as the ‘Ferry Region’ was treated much like the ‘Verdi Region’ in the Iron Kingdom. It was the boondocks of the boondocks. Unlike other parts of the Southern Continent where vast plains stretched out, this place was a unique, harsh desert. Consequently, while other Southern cities had been developed into lush tourist destinations, the Ferry Region was a wasteland. People were rarely seen, and the few who were there were mostly Crusaders wielding heavy war hammers.
Me, taking on a Crusader right now?
That was suicide.
With this body, I couldn’t fight a Crusader. Forget a Crusader; I’d have to fight a life-or-death duel against a desert scorpion or a camel. My body before devouring a sword was just that pathetic. No, forget beasts.
“Huff… huff…”
My stamina was non-existent.
I was once again experiencing just how trash my body had been before I began my sword training. The scorching sunlight, the sand that swallowed my feet, the sandstorms that stung my eyes—the desert environment itself was a lethal threat. Not only were my wings sealed, but so were the Path and my Mana Heart. The robust physique I had gained through Wildness and the additional physical specs from my contract with the Dragon Aion had vanished entirely. Having returned to square one, I was poignantly realizing that my past self had been a walking piece of garbage.
「Do you finally realize the greatness of this Master who raised a piece of trash like you?」
Damn it.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I found myself nodding.
“I admit it. You admit it too, Master?”
「Admit what?」
“That you are a total d—.”
「Hmm, I suppose I can admit that much.」
Since becoming a Sword Runner, I hadn’t been screwed over by Master much, so I had forgotten. Liam had always enjoyed giving me a hard time. Prime examples included dropping me off a cliff, dragging me to the Arena only to complain about modern medals, or telling me to climb a mountain only to make me charge into an Orc Holy Land…
‘My specs are at a level where I have to risk my life just to fight a wild animal. Fortunately, the knowledge of how to swing a sword and the techniques remain in my head. But… I need at least a minimum amount of strength to execute them.’
The Needle of the swordswoman Mary.
Petel’s Sword Wrestling.
The Fang of the Free City assassin.
I might be able to clumsily replicate those styles. But Wildness, which relied on brute strength, or Gale and Lantern, which required the status of a Sword Runner, were out of the question. Caravan’s Steel? My body would shatter into pieces the moment I tried to swing it. If I ended up rolling on the ground in pain, Master would just click his tongue and call me a talentless fool. Even if I died, I couldn’t let that happen. Never.
‘Is it even possible? No matter how much of a land of peace this is supposed to be.’
Of course, I couldn’t just keep grumbling forever.
I had to make the most of the weapons I had.
To survive.
To overcome this trial and grow stronger.
‘Though I’m likely to roast to death before I even find a reason to draw my sword.’
This insanely hot desert was a monster in its own right.
Damn it, I’ve climbed to the Firmament of the Sky Mountain Range, and now I’m hovering between life and death in an ordinary desert. My blood boiled with frustration, but I couldn’t exactly punch the sand. If I did, Master’s colorful mockery would surely follow. Ultimately, while my anger simmered, a mirage-like city appeared beyond the endless horizon. Looking down, I saw the compass needle of the Golden Star pointing right at it. There was no reason to hesitate. I dragged my withered body toward the gates.
A city built in the heart of the wasteland.
The oasis of Western Ferry.
The City of Stars.
To Antoine .
