“Mmm.”
A tree grew so tall its crown seemed to brush the very vault of heaven.
Perched atop its highest branch, Sherizik sat bathed in the golden sunlight, watching Arhan’s struggle. Though the distance was vast, Sherizik’s eyes saw everything with predatory clarity. She crunched into a wild fruit, savoring the refreshing spray of juice, and muttered to herself.
“Is he truly trying to ascend to the Azure Heaven?”
Two months had already passed since Arhan began his grueling trial in the Sky Mountain Range. After observing him for nearly sixty days, Sherizik had reached a startling conclusion: Arhan’s goal was indeed the ‘Azure Heaven.’ It was a place every adventurer on the continent dreamed of—a celestial realm never permitted to anyone but dragons. A sacred land where countless legends and myths were born.
The bridge to the heavens, the domain of dragons, the repository of the continent’s ultimate truths, the vault of ancient treasures, the sanctuary where one could meet God… Countless rumors existed, but Sherizik knew the grim reality of the ‘Azure Heaven.’ Long ago, her father—the shaman known as the Star Guide, Sherdic—had spoken of the Sky Mountain Range in passing.
‘Should I tell him now?’
Sherizik chewed the fruit, lost in thought. In the Azure Heaven, there is no glory for adventurers to find, no truth for scholars to seek, and no brilliant radiance to fulfill the dreams of children. Sherizik frowned as she watched Arhan scale the sheer cliff face. The Descendant of Steel had been repeating the same suicidal actions for two months. Part of her wanted to descend immediately and convince him to abandon this meaningless task and return to the world below.
‘The outside world is in utter chaos.’
Over the past two months, turmoil had descended upon the continent like a shroud. Since Sherizik had remained here to watch Arhan, she didn’t know the specific details, but she knew the situation was dire. In truth, she didn’t even need to hear the news. Looking at the sky through a shaman’s eyes was enough. The firmament was currently overflowing with ill omens—a terrible, wretched darkness the likes of which hadn’t been seen in a hundred years.
“Mmm.”
Sherizik stroked her chin. Even setting aside the external crisis, challenging the Azure Heaven in a human body was an act of sheer madness. To Sherizik, who knew the truth, it seemed even more foolish. Arhan could never reach the Azure Heaven. A human could never reach the place closest to the sky. That realm was permitted only to the masters of the firmament. That was why Sherizik wanted to tell him: Don’t waste your time. Let’s go back.
But.
‘For some reason…’
Strangely, the warrior’s blood flowing through Sherizik’s veins whispered to her. It told her she must not stop the warrior who was throwing his life away to dive into this trial. It told her that this moment was incredibly precious to the insignificant man struggling over there.
‘If it’s the Descendant of Steel, then perhaps….’
Thinking this, Sherizik let out a smirk. Her father’s words— “Watch the Descendant of Steel,” “If I could, I would stay by his side myself,” “Nothing is impossible for a Caravan” —were beginning to make sense. Her head still struggled to grasp the logic, but orcs were not a race that understood the world with their heads anyway. The heart! They were a race that understood through boiling blood and a pounding pulse. And no matter how aristocratically she carried herself, Sherizik was still an orc.
“Beautiful Orc.”
A group of monks approached Sherizik. They carried long staves—the only weapon used by their order, for they considered their own bodies to be the ultimate tool. The fact that they held them now meant only one thing.
“You are heading out into the world.”
“Yes. We intend to go where the sun shines,” one replied.
“You have a difficult task ahead of you.”
The monks were preparing to leave the Temple of the Sun. Among those who came to see Sherizik, there wasn’t a single novice. Every one of them was a master of proven combat ability. Just by glancing at them, Sherizik could tell how chaotic the world outside the Sky Mountain Range had become. Unless there was an annual ceremony, these monks never left for the outside world. They spent their entire lives in secluded practice. For such ascetics to leave meant that truly grave chaos had arrived. Furthermore, among the monks heading out was the Great Warrior of the Sun. The greatest monk of all: Butcher.
“Do you have any intention of coming with us, Lady Sherizik?” Butcher asked.
After a moment of thought, Sherizik replied, “I wish to watch this process a little longer.”
At Sherizik’s words, Butcher raised his head and looked in the direction she was gazing. After a brief glance, Butcher broke into a wide, knowing grin. It was a vast distance; Sherizik couldn’t tell if Butcher had actually seen Arhan or not. Silence fell, and soon Butcher spoke.
“That, too, would be sufficiently valuable.”
“…….”
“A reward always follows the end of asceticism under the sun. Had the sun not ceased to shine upon the world outside, I too would have wished to stay by that person’s side.” Butcher smiled benevolently. “The moment a bird breaks out of its shell is always thrilling.”
“…….”
“At the end of his asceticism, a bird shall break through its shell. A bird forged of blood, steel, and flame… the bird that can fly the farthest.”
* * *
From the entrance to the mid-slopes of the Sky Mountain Range.
I roamed a land wider than several cities combined, doubting and doubting again. I searched for side paths, wondering if there was a way I had missed. But the actual Sky Mountain Range was no different from the memories of the old adventurer. The memories were not wrong. It was just that those memories could only take me as far as the ‘mid-slopes.’ Between the mid-slopes and the Azure Heaven, there was a wall. A wall a human was never meant to cross.
‘Damn it.’
Using the old adventurer’s memories, reaching the mid-slopes hadn’t been difficult. I had grown accustomed to roaming them. There was only one problem: the strange space between the mid-slopes and the Azure Heaven.
‘This damn fog.’
A thick, white fog.
Once I passed a certain point on the mid-slopes, the fog always arrived. When the fog came, the ground turned into a mucky swamp, and after that, it was impossible to move forward. I felt like a child lost in the woods. My sense of direction was paralyzed, and my five senses were ruined. In that state, heading further up the treacherous mountain range was impossible.
‘Damn it.’
It was as if the heavens were saying:
This land is not permitted to you. Do not try to climb any further.
Get out of here. You cannot do it.
“Are you kidding me….”
Through my doubt, I had grasped the ecosystem of the spirit beasts. I had reached a level where I could tame and ride some of them. Giant insects? I could move without encountering a single one if I put my mind to it. Plants and fruit? They had long since ceased to be obstacles and had become part of the environment that helped me. The various disasters caused by the abundant mana? I could prepare for them. Before landslides or storms occurred, the nearby spirit beasts and insects always reacted. I just had to watch their reactions and move with them. I just had to become part of the ecosystem.
But I could do nothing about that fog. It felt like an irresistible will of heaven.
‘Like the fate those damn bards sing about.’
Yes, fate.
It was as if the world had decided I could not pass through here. That made me uncontrollably angry. The will of heaven, fate, order, the natural way of the world, rules—the things that made people swallow their anger and live in acceptance, no matter how unreasonable the circumstances. It was the same when I turned fifteen. During that incident that changed everything, Sancho and my nanny said the same thing. They told me to think of it as a natural disaster. That one cannot go against the will of heaven.
‘No.’
I cannot do that.
What is the sky that it should take everything from me? No matter how great they are, no matter how grand, they do not have that right. Because the gods are the creators of all creatures, the creatures must simply accept it?
I can’t.
Unreasonable things that I cannot accept or understand.
No matter how hard I try, I cannot take it. It feels like my head will go empty, like I’ll lose my mind. So, I cannot back down. Now, reaching the Azure Heaven is not just to digest ‘Ascension,’ but to prove my life.
Just as I became a Great Warrior for Petel long ago.
I cannot back down from this fight. The incident when I was fifteen changed everything about me. Break me, bend me if you will. I would rather break than bow.
“Whew.”
I looked up.
I had reached the edge of the mid-slopes again. The moment I arrived, the thick fog began to rise. The Sky Mountain Range’s rejection ceremony to kick me out. I had no intention of accepting it this time either. You want to treat me as an uninvited guest? Then I will gladly be one. An uninvited guest who will never retreat.
‘My senses are starting to go numb.’
The heavens reject me?
So what? My doubt and my crookedness were made by the heavens. The things you stole from me broke me like this. So, if you want to reject me, either return what you stole or listen to my voice.
‘I’m breaking through, whatever it takes.’
The ground became a mucky swamp.
As the fog wrapped around my skin, my senses began to fall into a dizzying disarray. First, I lost my sight. Amidst the pitch-black darkness covering my eyes, my ears also failed. Instead of losing my hearing, it became a chaotic mess. I heard hallucinations.
“Young Master, please wake up. Young Master.”
“Son, get up. How long are you going to sleep?”
Sancho’s voice.
The voices of my missed mother and father.
The voices of the past that haunted me. The fog was stimulating my memories. I knew they were fake, yet they were voices I found hard to ignore. At the same time, a stinging pain shot through my skin. An agonizing pain, as if my bones and muscles were being separated and my skin flayed. My sense of touch was failing.
“Son, rest comfortably. Just rest.”
“Why are you trying so hard?”
“Young Master, dinner is ready. I’ve prepared only the things you like. Isn’t today a special day? Your fifteenth birthday.”
My sense of smell failed too.
Instead of the musty smell of the swamp, I smelled fragrant food. The warm scent of the mansion and the pleasant smell that drifted from my mother’s body. The scent of memories soon brought the memories themselves. It was a fragrance that made me want to cry. I wanted to stay here forever.
But I turned away. I forced a step forward into the darkness. Then, as if my foot slipped, my body moved on its own. It felt like I was rolling down a slope.
But I doubted. I did not believe. It was fake. I was moving forward perfectly. I was moving correctly. I was not walking the wrong path. I believed nothing but myself. No, I didn’t even believe myself. I didn’t believe my eyes, my ears, my skin, or my nose. I doubted everything in the world.
In that moment, a flame flickered. A single spark.
The Flame of Doubt that rose from within me drove away the fog that confused my senses. My eyes snapped open. Beyond the receding darkness, I saw light. Like a moth diving into a flame, like a moth wishing for glory while embracing the high sky for even a moment, I crawled through the swamp toward the light, scratching the dirt with my fingernails. I didn’t care if I looked like a lowly insect. As long as I could go forward. As long as I could go up, higher and higher.
“Whew.”
The fog seeped into my body again, muddling my senses. It even felt like my soul was shattering. Now, my vision wasn’t just lost; it was broken. Instead of the swamp and fog, I saw the mansion I missed.
“Arhan.”
Mother and Father.
My precious neighbors, the people I missed who stayed at the mansion. They looked at me and embraced me warmly. I had to push them away and move forward. But the moment they embraced me, the warmth that the abandoned boy had missed for so long, the warmth he had forgotten, was revived.
“It’s okay to stop now.”
All the pain vanished.
It was as if everything until now had been an illusion and this was the truth. It felt as if the revenge the boy dreamed of after losing everything to the Swordmaster was all a hollow nightmare, and this situation was the reality. It was sweet. Of course it was. The path I had to walk was a path of thorns, but what I saw before my eyes now was a nostalgic landscape I didn’t want to leave.
“Stay here. You can do that.”
Is this an illusion or reality? It was so difficult to distinguish.
But I felt such happiness that I didn’t even want to distinguish them. What would happen if I just accepted it as a dream and let go of everything? Would I wake up again at the bottom of the mountain, or could I stay here forever?
“Ah.”
The sky in the illusion was the same as the sky I had been looking at. The sun in the sky was the same. The taste of the air was no different. If everything was the same, was there a distinction between illusion and reality?
But my soul was speaking. It said this was a lie. My constantly doubting soul was denying the sweet dream. It was dragging me back to the cruel reality.
Even so. I could not push them away.
“Son, it’s been hard, hasn’t it? You look exhausted. It’s okay to rest. Rest here comfortably. Rest as much as you want. I can hold you forever. Your mother can do that for you.”
And so.
“Mother.”
I didn’t push her away.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“…….”
“Hold me after everything is over. After everything is finished, then listen to my story of how hard it was and give me a cookie, just like you always did. And let’s build a fire behind the mansion. So all the villagers can gather.”
Instead of pushing her away, I accepted it.
“That will be enough. Just that.”
In that moment, my mother vanished like smoke.
The warm mother was now a corpse with her body pierced by a sword and her head severed. All the other neighbors were the same. A storm of blades arose. My body was cut several times, and I was shattered again and again. But I knew it wasn’t the truth. If it wasn’t the truth, there was no reason to retreat. Break me. Tear me down. I still will not bend. I took a step. I took another, and another.
“Ugh.”
It felt like my body was on fire. It felt like I was being flayed from head to toe. Nevertheless, I moved forward. To prove myself. The pain was no different from reality, but my doubt told me: it is not real. If so, I can move forward. As long as my breath does not stop, my journey does not end. As long as I am alive, I will not stop, never.
“Aaaah!”
The illusion vanished.
My senses returned, and the swamp and fog spread out. With a squelching sound, my body fell forward. I looked back and saw a crocodile. I drew my sword. But my body was strangely heavy. I couldn’t even manifest mana. I felt like I had returned to the insignificant boy of the past. I couldn’t remember my explosive power or my exquisite swordsmanship. It was a struggle even to lift what I held in my hand. Nevertheless, I fought.
“Ugh, aaah.”
I am a talentless hack.
Even if I lose everything I’ve built, my essence does not change. Even when I was insignificant, I was the boy who dreamed of revenge against a Swordmaster. The me who swung a sword behind the mansion and the me now are no different. I hold the same core.
“Aaaaaah—!”
I pulled a fruit from my waist and threw it at the crocodile. Juice exploded in the crocodile’s eyes. A poisonous fruit. The crocodile screamed, and I struggled to lift my sword and stab it. But the blade wouldn’t go in. The hide was too thick. Still, I didn’t give up. Even for a spirit beast, there are parts that cannot be hardened. Tangled with the crocodile, I shoved the blade into its bulging eye and hammered the hilt with my elbow. The blade pierced through the eyeball and into the crocodile’s head. Viscous blood spurted out. Gritting my teeth, I pulled out the sword and staggered forward again.
Was I heading the right way? I didn’t know. I just chased the light. I just moved toward the sky.
“Ugh, ah, aaaaaah!”
The leg bitten by the crocodile burned with agony.
I moved forward with a squelching sound. Soon, several monsters made of mud appeared. Monsters that could never be faced with my current, trivial strength. They weren’t even spirit beasts. These were monsters that should be classified as such—incarnations of destruction that could only be seen on the Northern Continent. They growled and approached. With trembling hands, I adjusted my grip on the sword.
“Come on.”
With a thud, they approached and struck my body. It felt like my arm was being torn off. But I didn’t let go of the sword. I struggled to swing it down. But it didn’t hit. It was too slow and clumsy. Like a sword swung by a child. Still, even so, I didn’t give up. There is nothing absolutely impossible in this world. Killing a monster after losing all your strength? Is that really harder than an insignificant boy killing the continent’s greatest Swordmaster within three years?
“Come! At! Me!”
I do not accept. I do not submit.
I do not easily let any trial that befalls me pass.
I never accept it. I doubt constantly. To prove myself. To shout that I am right and the world is wrong. I find possibility in any situation. That is my Doubt. That is my life.
“Gah—”
With a sickening crack, my body flew through the air. The moment I was hit, it felt like my body shattered. With a thud, the mud monsters approached. They drew near to destroy the intruder. My heart pounded. Perhaps this time, I wouldn’t wake up at the bottom, but truly die. This might be my end. A meaningless death at the end of a hardship no one would ever know.
But.
“Cough, hack—!”
But even so, I cannot back down. Even if I am shattered.
And then.
『The last thing I remember was the burning mansion.』
A blurry woman appeared before my eyes. Swordswoman Mary. Master of the ‘Needle.’
『To regain freedom, someone had to get blood on their hands.』
Next, an assassin with shaggy hair appeared. The Assassin of Cloud. Master of the ‘Fang.’
『Not every boy can become the protagonist.』
『There is no paradise in the place you fled to.』
『My life was like a single gust of wind.』
.
.
.
『How happy was the age when one could look at the starry heavens and read the map of the path one could and must travel?』
Like spreading smoke, the souls of the swords I had devoured until now began to appear one by one. Not in the form of blades, but as they were in life, appearing here faintly. My footsteps. While their backs were visible, they were all looking up at the sky. As if glaring at someone.
「Young descendant.」
My Master’s voice echoed.
「Splendid.」
“…….”
「Not compromising with anything. Protecting what you have built until the very end. What some call stubbornness, what some call self-righteousness, and what some call belief.」
“…….”
「Your own world.」
It felt as if the fog was slowly lifting. At the same time, the mud monsters approaching me were also vanishing. The mucky swamp had turned into solid ground before I knew it. Looking down at my body, the wounds all over had disappeared as if washed away.
「It is clumsy, but you have created it.」
“…….”
「That is the final key to digesting the legend, and…」
Beyond the lifted fog, a blue light poured in. A blue light so bright it could blind me soon filled the area. The world was dyed blue. The ground was blue, and the sky was blue. Looking at the entirely blue world, only one word came to mind.
「It is the first step toward becoming a ‘Sword Expert,’ young descendant.」
Azure Heaven.
While the souls of the swords looked at the sky, I also looked at the sky. There was a clear and beautiful sky, and soon, a voice was heard from the heavens.
「Last Caravan.」
As the voice was heard, a shimmering mountain peak appeared in the sky. The mountain peak was trembling along with the voice. As if the mountain itself were speaking.
「You have won.」
* * *
Azure Heaven.
A beautiful blue world.
In the midst of it, the faint souls of the swords were swaying with their backs to me. Among the swaying souls, there was one soul that shone most brilliantly. It was a soul so vivid that I questioned if it was truly a soul, and he was facing me directly instead of turning his back. His wrinkled face was somehow familiar. His mouth slowly opened.
“Insignificant boy, I pay my respects to your world.”
“…”
“A world that will never bend. A solid world that will never break. A world forged of steel. I have no choice but to acknowledge it now. You have earned the right to hear my final tale—though it is but the humble story of an old man.”
The fog lifts, and the clouds part. The sky has opened.
From where the most brilliant light of the open sky fell, the Old Adventurer gazed at me. He murmured in that low voice I had heard so many times within my mind.
“Boy.”
With those words, memories surged forth.
The Former Master of Soaring. The legendary adventurer.
“Do you know of the genius who became a stuffed specimen?”
His final memory. The legend contained within.
