The Primordial Observatory stood tall.
Though few knew it, this place was a holy land of the stars. The first to ever chase the stars had built this observatory to reach the heavens. Given its original purpose, the structure was immense—far higher than it appeared from the ground.
“Halt! I said halt!”
Priestess Frey had reached her absolute limit.
The middle-aged woman was no longer walking; she was crawling, gripping the stone stairs as she hauled herself upward. In contrast, Inquisitor Abel climbed with the vigor of a man in his prime. Despite being drenched in sweat, he took the steps three or four at a time. The distance between them had narrowed until he was almost within arm’s reach.
“Give it up! Do you think becoming a Great Warrior will change anything? The Goddess of Stars will not save you. She is far too exalted to understand the likes of us. No matter how much you wail, she will only speak of forgiveness and harmony. Out of the Nine Goddesses and the Seven Chief Gods, the only one who can truly understand us lowly creatures of the Middle Fold is the Son of Sin and Punishment!”
“…”
“Stop this nonsense and come down. If you surrender now, forsake the stars, and choose the Cross, no one else has to die. You won’t have to be some lowly Priestess of the Stars; you can become a priest of the Crusader Order and live a life of comfort. Not just you, but this entire city!”
At Abel’s words, Priestess Frey slowly turned her head.
“I swear it before God, do you hear me?”
Frey looked at Abel, her face etched with weariness. Then, she spoke.
“I’m not trying to become a Great Warrior.”
“…?”
“I only wish to become a star for those who wander. And the stars do not speak only of unconditional forgiveness. The stars forgive all, but they do not abandon those who seek to forgive. Starlight never turns its back on the lost. Never.”
Having said her piece, Frey began to climb once more. Abel gritted his teeth and pursued her. Her breath coming in ragged, painful gasps, Frey drew closer to the summit. With the dark sky pressing close and the brilliant stars flashing above, Frey smiled as she recalled a memory from the distant past.
A Great Warrior of the Stars.
That wasn’t what she was trying to achieve. This was the fulfillment of an old promise. And more than that…
‘Don’t cry, Frey.’
She was following her beloved. Her Little Prince.
‘It will look like I’ve died. But that’s not it.’
The young boy Frey had met long ago. The Little Prince of the desert whom she could never forget.
‘It’s difficult to return with a body, so I’m leaving the body behind.’
Frey looked at the sky. The stars twinkled in the night sky, and as she watched them, she reflected on the words the boy had left behind—faint, beautiful words rooted deep in her heart.
“What is essential is invisible to the eye…”
*
The Warrior of the Plains stared at the young man.
The youth had brilliant blond hair and blue eyes. His features, visible behind his fringe, were delicate—a face that mirrored the arrogant nobles of the Western Continent. A typical hothouse flower. He was the type the warriors of the Great Land hated most: those who wore fake crowns and reigned over others without possessing an ounce of their own strength.
However, contrary to his outward appearance, the boy gave off a scent that could only be found among the Great Warriors of the plains.
“A wolf in sheep’s clothing, I see.”
The boy smelled of blood. Thick, heavy blood.
“But how strange. Your killing intent is insanely intense, yet your aura isn’t sharp. It’s as if a warrior’s soul is trapped inside the body of a weak brat…”
“…”
“Did you fall from your horse during a war and suffer a grievous wound? Or did you lose your strength to the schemes of some wicked shaman?”
He threw out the questions, but no answer came. It seemed the youth had no intention of talking.
Well, that suited the Warrior of the Plains just fine. A warrior of the Great Land usually preferred a conversation held with steel over one held with the wagging of tongues.
The Warrior of the Plains walked toward the young man. He did not draw his blade yet. Since this was an opponent he had met in this peaceful, boring land, he wanted to take his time. However, he was forced to change his mind almost immediately.
“…!”
The moment he took two steps toward the youth, the Warrior of the Plains saw a hallucination. It was a gruesome vision of his own neck being sliced clean through. In the vision, he didn’t even know how he had died; he simply accepted the result. As his head flew through the air, he watched a fountain of blood erupt from his neck while his headless body convulsed and collapsed.
“Gah!”
Snapping out of the hallucination, the Warrior of the Plains hastily retreated. Gasping for breath, he clutched his neck. It wasn’t cut; it was still firmly attached. The vision had been so vivid that cold sweat poured down his back, and his skin turned ice-cold.
‘What…’
What was that? When he regained his senses, he realized his hands were trembling. He looked like a rabbit cornered by a lion.
Gasping for air, the Warrior of the Plains finally looked ahead. The young man was still standing in the same spot. He hadn’t moved an inch.
However, the youth looked different. He no longer had the appearance of a young noble; he possessed the majestic presence of an ancient lion. His brilliant blond hair had turned snow-white, and the insignificant iron sword in his hand had become a magnificent blade, flashing with a sharpness that could sever anything in existence.
‘What on earth is this…’
A hallucination? Was he a sorcerer? Was the sword a trick, and was he actually a wizard or a shaman? As his heart hammered wildly, the Warrior of the Plains swallowed hard. Raising his tension to the limit, he slowly drew the sword tucked at his waist.
“…”
A Great Warrior of the plains who served the Sun That Never Sets had to remain dignified. A warrior who conquered the Great Steppe had to bravely face any enemy. Yet, for some reason, the Warrior of the Plains felt infinitely small. Unbearably so.
“You may run if you are afraid.”
In the face of that indescribable fear, a steady voice rang out. It came from the young man—the youth who bore the form of an old man.
“It is not a strange thing to do.”
*
The Maverick.
The Master, who had declared he would pass on his sword to me, made a proposal.
「My sword cannot be conveyed through words. No matter how much I recite its principles, you will not understand. The only way is for you to experience it with your own body.」
“Then…”
「Five seconds. For exactly five seconds, I will borrow your physical body and manifest in the Middle Fold.」
Liam’s eyes flashed sharply.
「You do not necessarily have to accept my proposal, young descendant. The moment you accept, many things will change.」
“If many things will change…?”
「Difficult days will unfold. The trials that come your way will become heavier and harsher.」
Days more difficult than now. Trials more grueling than these.
「Countless beings lurking in the Middle Fold will feel my soul. Because of that, the balance will break, and the true powerhouses who have been crouching in the shadows will reveal themselves. Beings with power you cannot even imagine will target you.」
“…”
「Did you think you’ve suffered enough because of the name ‘Caravan’? I’m sorry to say, but the moment you accept me, you will realize that everything you’ve experienced so far was nothing more than child’s play.」
Liam was giving me a sincere warning.
「Those who have been hiding, the onlookers in the clouds, know me well. They know exactly how fickle this Liam Caravan is. That is why they did not take active measures even though they knew you were the Last Caravan. They likely thought this Liam would never acknowledge a descendant with such insignificant talent.」
“…”
「But if you accept my proposal, from that moment on, every being will know that you are a descendant acknowledged by me—one who has truly inherited the sword of ‘Liam Caravan.’」
“Then everyone who held a grudge against you, Master, will come swarming in.”
「They will not target only you. They will try to destroy everything surrounding you. Just as I carved out an era in the past…」
Liam looked at me.
「Furthermore, if you catch even a glimpse of my sword, you will never be able to go back to how you were before. Every sword other than the Maverick will seem like a pathetic struggle. All your efforts will feel like futile flailing.」
“…”
「This is not deception or bravado, young descendant. My sword is far too great. The power I possess is an insurmountable wall. For those who have dedicated their lives to the sword, it is so absolute that merely seeing it will cause them to break and despair, never able to pick up a blade again.」
Arrogant words. But I knew they weren’t just arrogance.
“And yet, you said you would pass your sword to me, Master.”
「….」
“Doesn’t that mean you believe I can handle it?”
「I do not know.」
Liam shook his head.
「My own son, whom I taught from the moment he was born; my descendants who possessed dazzling talent; the many Caravans who possessed indomitable wills… they all broke after experiencing me. No one could become like me.」
“…”
「You are not as outstanding as them. You possess talent so meager you cannot even follow in their footsteps.」
“…Then.”
「But you are more solid than any other Caravan.」
Liam stared at me.
「And you resemble me more than any other Caravan.」
I smiled as I faced him.
“So far, you’ve only told me the disadvantages. Now, tell me the advantages. Tell me what I can gain by enduring all of that.”
「I knew you would say that.」
There would be grueling trials. No one else had succeeded. It would be difficult. I had heard such warnings so often I was sick of them, even before I first picked up a sword. It was impossible for me to give up out of fear without even trying. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Not until I died.
「You will come to know.」
“Know what?”
「Why everyone feared the Caravan.」
“…”
Liam smirked.
「And just how insignificant the enemy who took everything from you is, compared to your ancestor.」
That alone was enough.
“This insignificant young descendant’s body—use it to your heart’s content.”
I accepted the proposal.
With that, my consciousness briefly drifted away. When I opened my eyes, I was floating in the air. Master was gone, and I was in his position. Our places had been swapped. As I drifted as if on water, Master’s voice rang out.
“You may run if you are afraid.”
The sensation of the vocal cords vibrating and the lips opening was vivid. Although I was floating, my senses were shared with my body. In that instant, I knew what I had to do. I had to remember. Every single detail.
“It is not a strange thing to do.”
The sword wielded by the most powerful Swordmaster in history. The First Caravan, my Master.
*
“It is not a strange thing to do.”
It had been a very long time since Liam Caravan had borrowed a body in the Middle Fold to speak. The voice uttered as the lips parted was a sensation both foreign and familiar.
“…Arrogant words.”
This was the body of a descendant who inherited his blood, but from head to toe, there wasn’t a single part that resembled him. Slender wrists, a frail frame—it was the exact opposite of the body Liam Caravan had possessed in the past. Liam had possessed a perfect body along with brilliant talent. The most ‘perfect body’ for wielding a sword among all seven races.
‘Though a body is nothing more than a shell anyway.’
Of course, it didn’t matter. Liam, in his descendant’s body, took the insignificant iron sword and gave it a twirl. To think even such a low-quality blade would feel heavy. It brought back memories.
“A Warrior of the Plains does not run!”
Liam’s soul inhabited the body, but nothing else had changed. The restriction of the Golden Star was still active, and all powers, including the Mana Heart, were lost. However, Liam did not feel even a shred of tension.
Mana Heart, Path, Wings, Armor, Sword. Sword Beginner, Sword Walker, Sword Runner, Sword Expert. And Swordmaster.
Hadn’t everything been created from him, derived from him, and made to resemble him? The shell did not matter. Liam Caravan had realized that truth when he stood alone before the Nine Goddesses and the Seven Chief Gods.
“Do not miss a single thing, young descendant.”
Liam looked at the Warrior of the Plains.
With a soft thud , the Warrior of the Plains appeared before Liam. It was an attack that the young descendant’s body could never have parried on its own. Liam did not move aggressively; he avoided the blade by minutely twisting his body. The sword that had been spinning at Liam’s fingertips continued to rotate. Before the lunging Warrior of the Plains, Liam simply danced.
And then.
“Uh.”
When the Warrior of the Plains regained his senses, his head had been sliced clean off. He was twitching on the ground. It had taken exactly 1.2 seconds.
“What—”
“Seize him!”
The moment they saw the Warrior of the Plains die, the Crusaders rushed in. These were Holy Knights with incredible physical abilities. However, they were no different from the warrior who had just fallen. They swung heavy maces, trusting in their iron armor. But when another second passed, all the Crusaders were dead.
The sword Liam wielded wasn’t exceptionally fast, powerful, or exquisite compared to Arhan’s. To others, that blade had simply cut through the air as if he were practicing basic forms.
“Kill him!”
Other Warriors of the Plains who had been hiding nearby appeared like flashes of light, thrusting their swords. But with a single blink of an eye, they were all dead. It was more like magic than swordsmanship.
“Did you see, young descendant?”
It wasn’t that Liam’s sword had cut the enemies. It looked as if all the enemies had been sucked into Liam’s sword. Like moths flying into a flame, like water in a bathtub draining through a hole…
“This is the ultimate height you must reach.”
In less than four seconds, all the enemies were rolling on the ground. The foes and harsh trials that Arhan had struggled so much against collapsed effortlessly before his ancestor. Amidst the chilling silence, Liam looked at his descendant and spoke.
He wouldn’t be able to understand it immediately. No one ever had. But this short time would become a key—the key that would finally allow the Last Caravan to be reborn as a true Caravan. This sword, shown in the most humble and insignificant moment, would become the direction Liam’s young descendant must travel.
“You must remember.”
The short time allowed was coming to an end. Liam felt several gazes directed toward his descendant’s soul. Beings who had been hiding, trusting only in his fickle nature, would no longer stand by. They realized that the Last Caravan had been chosen by ‘Liam Caravan,’ and they would actively reveal themselves to the world to prevent the terrible events of the past from repeating.
To prevent the second coming of a true Caravan.
“If you cannot…”
The trials that would befall his young descendant would be even harsher. But if he was a Caravan, he would have to endure them. For to the bloodline of Steel, all trials were the fertilizer for growth.
“You will not be able to survive.”
And so, the absolute being’s brief return ended.
*
“W-what was that just now?”
“What in the world…”
I heard the murmuring of the Antoine residents, but I couldn’t focus. Master returned my body to me the moment the five seconds were up, but I was being swept away by the wave of sensations that had poured in.
‘What… what is this…’
Master had described it as five seconds, but to me, it was a span of time that defied definition. I could see why Liam had said it would be ‘difficult to handle.’ During those five seconds, I had seen the essence of the Maverick. I realized how clumsy and insignificant the ‘Steel’ I had been wielding was, and how small I was compared to my ancestor. I realized how pathetic the level of my sword truly was.
“All the enemies died in an instant.”
“How can this be…?”
I felt a sense of vastness. Could I ever reach even the heels of Master, even if I poured my entire life into it? Did I even have the right to use the name Caravan? Was it right for someone like me to even hold a sword? A sense of despair that felt like it would break my heart threatened to overwhelm me.
But.
「Young Master Arhan.」
I am a dullard. To me, the sword is not an end, but a means. A means to achieve what I want.
「For some reason, Young Master…」
That I am small and insignificant? I already knew that. I won’t break just because I’ve realized it once again. I cannot give up just because it feels impossibly distant. Because as long as I don’t give up, nothing is over.
「I feel like you will one day leave your name in the history of this continent.」
I couldn’t understand most of the Maverick that Master had wielded with my body. It was a level of swordsmanship far too high for me to grasp. However, I had faithfully engraved it into my body and mind. I couldn’t understand it, but I would never forget it. If I don’t forget it, it won’t disappear.
I am small and insignificant. I know.
‘That is why I will not break.’
The moment I recited that to myself, countless swords appeared before my eyes. Needle, Fang, Twilight, Wildness… the blades I had swallowed until now were looking at me. While their souls watched me, I saw a single, faintly flickering light.
「Arhan.」
The voice from the light was warm.
「Always take pride in being a member of the Caravan family, and remember that the blood of Steel flows through your body.」
It was warm, and at the same time, very familiar.
「Then, one day, you will be able to reclaim the glory.」
I knew that voice. But before I could recall the owner of the voice, my consciousness snapped awake as if being pulled out of water.
「Yes, one day…」
My eyes flew open. The swords were gone, and the voice from the light was gone too. What I saw before me were the dead Warriors of the Plains and Crusaders. Amidst the fishy smell of blood, the residents of Antoine screamed.
“The Crusaders!”
I looked in the direction they were pointing. Beyond the desert dust, the flags of the Crusader Order were fluttering. Had the Inquisitor requested reinforcements? Or had the Crusaders stationed nearby mobilized? I couldn’t tell, but one thing was certain: it was dangerous.
‘Can I face them now?’
I gripped my sword. Could I reproduce the Maverick that Master had just shown me? No, that was far too difficult for the current me. To do that, I would need contemplation and much more experience. Then, would I face them with cheap tricks again?
‘There are too many of them for tricks.’
The scale of the Crusaders was enormous. Damn it. It was already overwhelming earlier, but there were even more reinforcements? The Crusaders formed their ranks, and behind them, I could see priests and Inquisitors. There were even dozens of warriors who looked like they belonged to the Legion of the Great Land. A terrible crisis was right under my nose. This wasn’t the time to contemplate Master’s teachings. I had to overcome the immediate crisis first. But how?
“Look there!”
At that moment, the residents of Antoine shouted.
“Priestess Frey has reached the top!”
Just as they said, Priestess Frey had finally reached the top of the observatory. Inquisitor Abel had failed to catch her. The faces of Antoine’s residents brightened; they seemed to believe that salvation was about to descend.
But then.
Rumble—!
With a thunderous roar, a massive boulder was launched toward the Primordial Observatory. The projectile shattered the structure with a deafening explosion. Both Inquisitor Abel and Priestess Frey were caught in the collapse, plummeting toward the ground. Abel died instantly, his neck snapping the moment he hit the earth, while Priestess Frey lay twitching on the ground, coughing up blood. Amidst the grand destruction, everyone fell silent.
The boulder had been fired by the Crusaders. At the front of their ranks, siege weapons advanced with a heavy, mechanical rattling. They were insane. To use siege engines just to raid this small city? Did it even make sense for a religious army to deploy such heinous weapons?
‘They’ve truly gone off the deep end.’
Gritting my teeth, I ran toward the ruins. Inside the wreckage, I found Priestess Frey in a wretched state. Beside her was a young girl, tied to a cross and weeping. The girl wailed as if the world were ending. Priestess Frey was dying, her life leaking away in viscous pools of blood.
‘Is this the end?’
Should I at least take the girl and flee? Just as the thought crossed my mind, Priestess Frey opened her mouth.
“The stars… do not… disappear.”
Did she still have the strength to speak? As I wondered, a light began to bloom from her—a brilliance so radiant it felt as though it would blind me. That light transferred into the girl tied to the cross.
“Starlight… is… a signpost… for those who are lost.”
“…….”
“The stars… suit the new generation… better than they suit me.”
Starlight took root within the weeping girl’s body. A very, very intense starlight. And then…
“It will look like I have died.”
Priestess Frey looked at me.
“But that is not the case.”
She was wearing a faint smile. I couldn’t understand why she was smiling even as her life was flickering out. But as her breathing grew shallower, a strange power began to seep into me. Was this the ability of a Star Priestess? No, this wasn’t divine power. It wasn’t the power of the Nine Goddesses; it was a power familiar to me.
“Since it is difficult to return with a body… I am leaving it behind.”
The power of the Sword. Another soul that had been dwelling within her body was now seeping into mine. Only then did I realize the truth.
‘I thought that if two souls occupied one body, they couldn’t be separated. But there was a way.’
The most well-known method of all: The Natural Order.
‘The soul of the deceased separates from the body.’
When the flesh dies, the soul is liberated. In this moment, as Priestess Frey met her end, she invoked a mystery upon the girl. Simultaneously, the very death she embraced became a stroke of fate for me.
“What is most important…”
Thump. A vibration shook the earth. The Crusaders were drawing closer.
“…is invisible to the eye.”
The girl’s weeping grew louder. Priestess Frey’s breathing slowed until it stopped entirely. At that moment, two souls flowed out of her. One soul returned to her god, and the other seeped into me. I didn’t know why a priestess would harbor a soul related to the Sword, but none of that mattered right now.
『What is most important is invisible to the eye.』
A new Sword took residence within me.
『You become the only one in the world to me.』
A new power overflowed.
『And I become the only one in the world to you.』
The powers I had lost began to return. Because the ‘Golden Star’ had been achieved.
『Ah, it is just as lonely among people.』
The Golden Scales tipped. Simultaneously, all restrictions vanished.
“Whew.”
With a single breath, my heart beat. Two hearts leaped into motion: the heart that supplied blood, and the Mana Heart that was like steel. As the Mana Heart roared, paths extended through my entire body like veins. Along with those extending paths, wings sprouted from my back—Steel Wings, possessing the desolate colors of black and white. My wings were larger and more numerous than before. I stood up against the backdrop of the desert.
“……Ah.”
Upon my back… there were eight pairs of wings.
“Time to die, you sons of the cross.”
