“I wonder if the seeds I’ve sown are sprouting as they should.”
“There will be no issues. Are you not always flawless, Iron Prince?”
“Indeed. I never doubt myself. However, I cannot trust anything other than myself. In this continent, I am the only thing that is truly perfect.”
“…….”
“Carlos, did you truly do a magnificent job of sowing the seeds of this whirlwind? It is not that I doubt your skill, but it is difficult to trust that trivial conviction you hold.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Is it not because your blade grew dull for a moment that the Descendant of Steel still draws breath? An executioner, who should follow his master’s will implicitly, acting on his own whims… It is quite laughable.”
“…You need not worry. I have handled this matter perfectly.”
“Can you swear that on your honor?”
The Iron Prince’s words were heavy. The atmosphere shifted instantly from his previous light, almost mocking tone. His voice now carried a crushing weight. Carlos met eyes that were like sharp blades—a gaze that seemed to pierce his very soul.
“Yes. I can swear it.”
Faced with that gaze, Carlos answered firmly.
“There is no need for concern. Young Master Rhapsody’s soul is utterly broken. He looks fine on the outside, but his inner shell is a complete wreck.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. After fleeing in pathetic sobs, the young master surely began spouting nonsense the moment he reached his estate. Not about what actually happened, but about the false events forcibly implanted into his mind. Just as you desired, Iron Prince…”
“And what did you make that noble young master say?”
“He should be saying exactly this.”
Carlos opened his mouth. His voice was dry as he spoke.
“‘Father, a gladiator from the outskirts of the Iron Kingdom launched a cowardly attack against us. He insulted me, he insulted the Rhapsody name, and he brutally murdered innocent Joseph, who knew nothing of fighting. I barely managed to escape using my meager skills. But I loathe myself for fleeing and failing my noble duty. I want to pierce my own throat with my sword. I no longer wish to live. I cannot live under the same sky as that man. So please, avenge me. Avenge me and avenge Joseph, Father. That man’s name… was Sword Demon Liam….’”
As Carlos’s voice continued, Iron Prince Ian Chervil’s expression remained dissatisfied. Ian Chervil’s pathological suspicion was well-known. However, his executioner had indeed performed his duty magnificently. In the distant Six Free Cities, the broken young master was saying exactly what Carlos had recited.
“‘…So please, avenge me. Avenge me and avenge Joseph, Father. That man’s name was….’”
Truly, not a single syllable was different.
* * *
All “Paths” are connected.
My training revolved around that single sentence. Rather than approaching the new concept of “Wings,” I found it easier to develop the “Path” I already knew.
From the moment I focused on the connection, the way I used “Gale” began to change. Until now, I had only used the mystery within the Gale in a one-dimensional way—to hinder an opponent’s movement or to scatter a group of entangled enemies.
But as I began to move under the premise that all paths are connected, the mystery of the Gale evolved to become far more powerful. Now, I could neutralize ten enemies with a single gust of wind. Even if I swung my sword from a distance, I could produce the same effect as if I had actually cut them with the blade. I felt as if I was catching a faint glimpse of how the Ronin viewed the world and what his sword sought to cut.
The realization did not stop there.
The essence of the “Lantern,” the Mystery of Combustion.
A sword that burns oneself to transcend limits. The blade wielded by the First King, who longed for the Age of Stars. What kind of conviction did the first feudal monarch, who established the fallen peninsula, hold? His dream was passed down to future generations like a signal fire. That, too, must be a connection. The will was passed down, the dream was passed down, and the intent was passed down. Thus, all Kings dreamed of the stars. They dreamed of an era and a nation that shone like the stars.
“Ah.”
Two blades.
As I understood the lives contained within them, I gradually began to grasp what the mystery bloomed by a swordsman truly was. The world they looked upon, the gaze with which they watched the world—that itself became the mystery. Once I understood that much, I thought: Then what kind of world am I looking at?
Young Master.
What does the world I see look like?
Only a Swordmaster can kill a Swordmaster.
I am not a Ronin.
I cannot become a storm that blows away everything in the world for the sake of a woman I once loved. Everything I loved was swept away that day.
I am not a monarch.
I do not know the Age of Stars, I do not long for it, and I cannot throw everything away for the sake of future generations. The only thing that matters to me is my revenge. I will do anything to kill the man who tore my world down. Selling my soul to a demon? I would do it gladly. If only I could.
“Ah.”
What is my world?
What lies at the end of the path I wish to walk? From the moment those thoughts took hold, the sun rising in the blue sky looked exceptionally dazzling. It was a sight I had seen many times before—the sun that had flickered in my eyes every time I transcended my limits through the mystery of the “Lantern.” I saw the image of the sun, blazing intensely. Beneath that sun was a rusted blade. A sword made of steel, thrust into the parched earth.
Is this the world I see?
Then, what is my world connected to? Is my world a sun that burns everything, or is it the steel that holds its place with noble dignity while the sun beats down? I couldn’t tell.
“Phew.”
I closed and opened my eyes.
The scene that had been spread before me vanished, replaced by the familiar Caravan estate. Looking out over the territory, I gazed up at the sky. There was the sun, no different from usual.
I had found a clue to reaching the rank of “Sword Runner.”
The Sun, and Steel.
I had to figure out which of the two was “my world.” That wasn’t something someone else could tell me. It was something only I could know.
Yes, only me.
“Ugh.”
The moment that realization hit, dizziness washed over me. It was hard to keep my balance. I hadn’t even been training hard, yet my body was soaked in sweat. I gasped for breath as I moved, then collapsed onto the ground. My limbs felt powerless, as if I had been running all day long.
“…….”
I lay there blankly, staring up at the blue sky. A pleasant breeze blew past.
The Caravan estate had changed a lot. It was different from when my parents and precious neighbors were here, and different from when it became a land of death after everyone vanished. But the sky was the same.
I had changed a lot, too. The curious young boy was now growing into a young man with a pathological suspicion. Muscles had settled onto my once-thin frame, and the boy who could never win a test of strength against others his age had become a swordsman on the verge of becoming a “Sword Runner.” But the sky was the same.
Time had passed, and many had died. Even though every landscape had changed, the sky alone was always the same. The sky never changed, ever.
“…….”
For some reason, an image seemed to be billowing in my mind. Along with the realization I just had, it felt like another epiphany was about to pour in. Like a clap of thunder.
“Agh.”
But I was too exhausted to move my body right now. I tried to stand up a few times, but my legs gave out, and I sank back down. After that, I gave up and just lay there. As I did, my Master spoke.
「Are you on a picnic? You certainly look relaxed.」
“……I want to swing my sword too. But what can I do when I have no strength left?”
「Yes, I know you’ve reached your limit.」
Liam said, looking down at me.
「Rest for a while now.」
“……What’s gotten into you?”
Rest. It was something he never, ever said. When I asked in confusion, Liam replied after a moment.
「Because this moment might be the last time you can rest with a peaceful mind.」
The last moment. What did that mean?
Was he planning to make tomorrow’s training even more grueling? Perhaps. Back when I was hanging off cliffs to become a “Sword Beginner,” fighting for my life in the Arena, and even undergoing the coming-of-age ceremony in the Orcs’ Holy Land, I truly didn’t have a moment to catch my breath. Since I was now facing the rank of “Sword Runner,” it might be incomparably harder than back then. Just imagining it was terrifying.
But.
“Then I shall rest comfortably.”
If you can’t avoid it, you might as well enjoy it.
“How long has it been since I’ve had such a relaxing break? Hehe.”
I even cracked a joke and laughed foolishly at the thought. Looking at me lying in the meadow, Liam smiled silently for a moment. Strangely, my Master’s smile looked somewhat sad.
Perhaps that was only natural.
「Yes, rest well. My young descendant.」
Because my Master, at that time… must have known what was about to happen.
* * *
I spent that entire day resting.
I rolled around in the meadow and looked up at the sky. The sun was warm, and the breeze was cool. Some of the new residents who had come to live in the Caravan estate brought me delicious food, saying it was a gift for their new young lord. I refused at first, but they kept insisting, so I played along and tasted a bit of everything. The food was delicious. Very much so.
Two days passed after that.
There was small but steady progress and new realizations, and both Tom and Seol-yoon praised my insights. They lauded me, saying that at this rate, reaching “Sword Runner” would be a breeze. I was happy. It was enjoyable.
For the first time in a long while, I laughed without a care in the world.
On the day I burst into laughter without any worries, Hailyn came to find me.
“I tried using the magic I learned… and I saw something strange. I couldn’t possibly interpret it on my own, so I came to tell you. I saw seven swords.”
“Seven swords?”
“Yes. They were very sharp swords. In the future of this estate, there were swords.”
Seven swords.
I didn’t know what it meant. Was it related to the whirlwind the Iron Prince had planned? Was another trial coming my way because of my damned fate? Or perhaps Hailyn’s sorcery was wrong. This young girl was still a beginner in magic, and the sorcery she had performed wasn’t even human, but orcish. In the midst of such uncertainty, a strange sense of foreboding washed over me. And as always, my foreboding was never wrong.
That afternoon.
Guests arrived at the Caravan estate.
Unwelcome, uninvited guests.
