The Free City of Cloud failed to live up to its name. To the citizens, myself included, this city had lost its freedom long ago.
Cloud was one of the six free cities that had splintered from the now-fallen Grid Republic. It was a city that supposedly revered liberty, strictly forbidding slavery. Once, it was a sanctuary flowing with milk and honey, where countless tourists flocked every year to gaze upon its jewel-like coastline.
They say the people of the continent used to call Cloud a “paradise.”
But regardless of how history recorded this city, we do not live in the past. We live in the present, and the Cloud of today is a wretched land where neither the name “Free City” nor the nickname “Paradise” fits.
“A single copper coin, please. Just one coin.”
The Masters in charge of Cloud’s politics were corrupt, and the executioners meant to uphold the law had been blinded by greed. The wealthy committed heinous crimes without punishment, while the poor were struck down by stray stones and died even when they had done no wrong.
“Please, just a piece of bread, so I don’t have to starve today…”
Blinded by luxury and pleasure, the upper class of Cloud sold the free people of this land to sustain their own glittering lives.
They documented the land of the free—the land of milk and honey—and sold it off to the nobles of the Golden Empire. When even that wasn’t enough, they used the human rights of the free citizens as collateral to borrow massive amounts of gold from the Red Bank.
“Stay for the night. If you’ve come to Cloud, I’ll make sure you drink your fill of the wine you simply must try.”
“No, come to my place. My place—”
Thus, the free citizens of Cloud were free no longer. They lost the land of milk and honey, they lost the human rights that protected their basic dignity, and they even lost the freedom they had won through long years of struggle.
The citizens became wretched beings who begged tourists for entertainment, sold themselves into slavery just to avoid starvation, and had no choice but to grin and bear it even when beaten by drunken travelers.
Having lost our freedom, we were no better than beasts.
That was what I thought as I watched my father die while begging for a piece of bread, beaten to death by a drunkard. That was what I thought as I watched my mother sell herself into slavery to escape hunger, and as I watched my young sister die of illness because we lacked five copper coins.
Why did we have to meet such an end?
Why must we shoulder the responsibility and be punished for actions we did not take?
That was the question mark that had been attached to my life since the moment it began.
And then.
“…”
The answer to the question of a lifetime arrived suddenly one day.
“Stop… stop it!”
One of the citizens being beaten by a drunkard could no longer contain his rage and stabbed the man in the neck. A fountain of blood erupted, and the bards playing ethereal music fled, screaming.
The executioners rushed in and killed the citizen who had committed the murder.
We thought the drunkards’ rage would explode the following night.
But what happened the next day was different from what we expected.
“…?”
The drunkards still exercised violence, but it never crossed a certain line. It was as if they were worried about what might happen if they went too far.
It was a minor change, but it created a massive ripple within me.
Things could change.
We could make them change.
In that moment, I realized.
Perhaps we were also responsible for falling to such a wretched state. That responsibility lay in our inaction.
The responsibility of merely watching as we fell to the bottom, as our freedom was stripped away, as our rights were seized, and as the paradise of milk and honey was stolen from us.
The sin of not resisting.
For some reason, I felt I knew what I had to do.
I gripped a small dagger and pulled an old hood over my head to hide my face.
Then, I reflected on the newly realized truth.
To reclaim freedom, someone must get blood on their hands.
I was more than willing to take on that role.
.
.
.
“Whew.”
When I closed and opened my eyes, the world appeared in cold hues. The emotions of the Assassin flooded from the small blade in my hand, the one that resembled a “Fang.” Though I hadn’t fully digested it, those memories were of a different nature than the memories of the swordswoman held within “Needle.”
「Do not be devoured. You must learn to control it.」
It felt as if two different souls were flickering within the two swords. What must I do to maintain myself amidst them? Thinking rationally provided no answer. So, I acted on instinct. A thrilling tremor shook off the dizziness in an instant.
“Huff, ha—”
My second heart, the Mana Heart, throbbed, and my body heated up. From the moment that second heart began to beat, my mind became crystal clear. Maintaining my sanity, I slowly aimed Needle and Fang at the Black Bride in turn.
「The mercenary swordswoman and the assassin of the Free City. The two are different, yet they share a clear commonality. That is why those blades suit you best right now.」
A commonality.
What could it be?
That both swords were specialized for piercing? Or that their former masters were people who operated in the shadows rather than the light? As I pondered this, I realized I was wrong the moment I saw Liam’s face.
Liam spoke.
「It is that they are both swords forged to fight enemies stronger than oneself.」
As Liam finished speaking, a thunderous voice rang out.
“This sacred duel shall be dedicated to Goddess Lefri, the guardian of justice!”
The voice announced the start of the match.
Simultaneously, my senses, honed as sharply as a beast’s, rang an alarm. These were the senses I had gained by fully digesting Needle. I moved, surrendering my body to instinct.
Fast. Incredibly fast.
* * *
The amphitheater where the Arena duels take place isn’t as large as one might think. It looks vast, but once you actually face an enemy, it feels suffocatingly small.
Furthermore, there are no obstacles here. For the convenience of the spectators, the Arena is a completely flat, clean space with no cover whatsoever.
This was an extremely disadvantageous environment for the weak. It was impossible to hide behind cover to strike at a stronger opponent’s blind spot, nor was it possible to use the terrain to move acrobatically for an ambush.
In other words, the various dark techniques embedded in the memories of the Assassin were reduced to useless tricks here.
However, I did not despair or lose heart.
That was thanks to my habit of always doubting rationally, and it was also the mindset the Assassin within Fang had always maintained.
『To lose the will to resist is true death.』
『What we must instill is not terrifying fear. We simply need to let them know that we, too, possess at least one lethal tooth capable of biting them back.』
The Black Bride did not rashly attack first. It wasn’t that she was giving me the initiative because she looked down on me. It was to sense the unfamiliar aura I projected, gather information step by step, and then bite down with certainty.
Liam spoke.
「A girl with good intuition.」
I kept my sword aimed at the Black Bride without approaching, then suddenly kicked my front foot to send up a cloud of dust. It was a dirty trick I had used many times, but in this amphitheater, sand was the only means to obstruct an enemy’s vision. If there is only one tool available, one must use it.
‘…She hasn’t even flinched.’
As expected, the Black Bride was no pushover.
She remained perfectly still, maintaining a firm posture. Through my eyes, I could see numerous “Paths” drawn beyond the dust cloud. Whether her vision was obscured or not, the moment I stepped into those Paths, my defeat would be certain.
That was something I had learned from the Sword Walker I had met before, Petel.
— If you ever face a Sword Walker again, never step into their Path. A fellow Sword Walker might be different, but for a Sword Beginner to enter a Sword Walker’s Path is a suicidal act.
Petel had compared it to entering the ocean to face a shark.
Therefore, rather than recklessly jumping into a place advantageous for the enemy, I decided to lure the enemy into my space. Even a terrifying shark is reduced to a gasping fish on dry land.
‘The rules are in my favor.’
The condition for the duel was not to defeat the Black Bride.
The victory condition was to hold out for three minutes.
I intended to exploit that condition to the fullest.
Slyly, despicably, and unlike a true warrior—just as the spectators had said.
Fortunately, such a method aligned well with the memories contained within Fang.
『To evade the executioners of Cloud, I had to become a rat. A rat that finds small holes to hide in and sticks its head into disgusting, foul-smelling places that everyone else avoids.』
『That is what it means to hide in the shadows.』
With a sharp tap , I leaped backward.
The Black Bride took a leisurely step forward to match my movement. Even so, she never took her eyes off me for a second. It was as if she intended to shut down even the smallest variable.
『Finding places to hide and places to lose the enemy was my daily life.』
There was a dull thud .
As I continued to retreat, I reached the edge of the amphitheater—the wall bordering the spectator seats. I felt the cold touch of iron against my back. The jeers of the crowd echoed nearby.
“Boooooo! You cowardly bastard!”
“If Goddess Lefri saw you, she’d strike you down with a lightning bolt!”
I ignored them and turned my gaze back to the Black Bride. Though she had moved leisurely, she had already closed the distance significantly. Was it a footwork technique taught at the academies? Or was she able to cover great distances in a single step because she had reached the realm of a superhuman?
It didn’t matter which it was.
I tensed my muscles like a drawn bowstring and aimed my lead hand holding Needle. Beyond the blade, I saw the Black Bride walking toward me like a ghost. I felt as if I could smell the thick scent of blood. It was a scent emanating from the sword she held.
The scent of death.
『I ran and ran again.』
『Until I had memorized every single complex alleyway in Cloud.』
I also saw the “Paths” blooming around the Black Bride. The blue, stretching Paths were surrounding me, cutting off my escape routes. Before I was completely hemmed in, I thrust Needle forward. My muscles snapped, and the blade shot out like a bolt of lightning.
But the Black Bride’s sword was faster than lightning.
It was different from the swords of the other fighters I had met in the Arena, and different from Sir Petel’s. It wasn’t a matter of proficiency or the perfection of technique. Her sword was alien. It was enough to make me wonder if that could even be called swordsmanship.
Liam’s voice rang out.
「That is the sword of the East, young descendant.」
“…”
「Since ancient times, there have been many mysterious individuals among the swordsmen from the East. They often referred to their techniques as Martial Arts.」
The sword the Black Bride swung looked as if she were painting on a canvas in midair. It was composed of curves, as elegant and beautiful as a landscape painting of nature. But there was no time to admire the beauty.
That beautiful sword wasn’t meant to please me; it was meant to harm me.
“Huff, ha—”
My heart of steel throbbed.
My Needle didn’t stop with a single thrust; it lashed out several times at a hair’s breadth distance. The Black Bride swung her sword fluidly, disrupting the trajectories of my thrusts. Amidst the exchange, the Black Bride’s expression contorted.
“…This isn’t the level of sturdiness a Sword Beginner should have.”
It seemed she had noticed the uniqueness of my heart.
With that, the Black Bride took a heavy, deep breath. Simultaneously, the “Paths” within her body, which originated from her heart and spread like veins throughout her entire frame, became vivid.
The Black Bride’s sword grew faster and faster.
Clang, clang!
The noisy sound of iron clashing against iron repeated violently.
In response, my Needle danced as well.
Of course, the exchange between the two blades was not equal. I was barely keeping up with the tip of the Black Bride’s accelerating sword, struggling desperately.
I wasn’t reacting with my dynamic visual acuity.
I was conscious of every minor muscle movement, predicting the trajectories in advance to intercept them, and when the timing was off, I squeezed the sturdy Mana Heart of the Caravan to force myself to hold on.
In that way, flashing curves and straight lines intertwined countless times.
I parried her swings with thrusts, targeted the sword tip where the force was relatively weaker, and used the crossguard to deflect the sword’s power. My doubt must not stop. To avoid being struck by that whip-like sword that flew in like a snake’s tongue from bizarre angles, I had to be perfect.
Yes, I had to be perfect.
“…How? This makes no sense.”
The pupils visible through the Black Bride’s helmet dilated. At that moment, the swords became entangled and clashed. The timing faltered, and as my Mana Heart reached its limit, my body was pushed far back.
With a thud , an intense pain flared in my back.
I had hit the wall.
Leaning against the wall, I aimed Needle and gasped for breath. My breathing grew ragged, and the Black Bride before me appeared blurred.
“You… just what… is your identity—”
As her halting voice continued, a memory surged like a lightning strike in my mind. The voice of the Assassin poured out through Fang.
『I always ran. But one cannot succeed in escaping every single day.』
『One day, I reached a dead end and faced a pursuit team with nowhere to run.』
The tip of the Black Bride’s sword slowly rose, pointing toward me.
『The enemy was clearly a strongman. I could tell just by looking at the countless Paths stretching from his second heart. A superhuman. Someone an ordinary citizen of the Free City could never hope to face.』
As the Black Bride’s sword drew closer, the “Paths” stretched out and surrounded me. No matter where I turned, I saw no way out.
And then.
『That was when something amazing happened.』
As the voice of Fang grew louder, a mystical phenomenon occurred.
『I saw a hole within the Path the superhuman aimed at me.』
『A rat hole, just like the ones I had hidden in countless times in the alleys of Cloud, the ones that had allowed me to escape.』
I saw a tiny hole in the Black Bride’s “Path.”
『Perhaps that was a talent I possessed as a fugitive.』
『The talent to find a way to escape in any situation.』
『Come to think of it, my brothers used to call me that.』
.
.
.
『A genius.』
I stared at the hole as if possessed. As the sword swung by the Black Bride drew near, I made a bizarre movement.
I thrust Needle deep.
The Black Bride’s “Path” was drawn, striking my thrusting Needle away. Instead of forcing a hold, I let go of the long, slender blade. As I released my grip, Needle fell. But I still had a weapon left.
I lifted my foot and kicked off the wall of the amphitheater.
I leaped as if flying, and in that moment, I became a different person in midair. The dark arts possessed by the Assassin of the Free City of Cloud.
I saw the Black Bride momentarily freeze at the erratic situation. In midair, I stomped down on the crossguard of the sword the Black Bride had swung downward, and instinctively thrust my dagger. Along a truly lethal trajectory.
It created a hole in the Black Bride’s “Path” and pierced through.
“……!”
At that moment, a blue ripple erupted from the Black Bride’s body. Simultaneously, a movement transcending human limits followed. She contorted her waist to a bizarre degree, arching her upper body back, and snapped her head back, narrowly evading my thrusting blade. Immediately after, she planted a kick into my side with superhuman strength.
With a sickening crack , my body went rolling across the sandy floor.
“Ack, cough .”
Damn it.
It was that sensation again. The overwhelming impact I had felt when clashing swords with Petel. A pain that felt as if my entire body was being shattered, like being hit head-on by a speeding carriage…
“Ugh, spit .”
Spitting out the blood pooling in my mouth, I barely managed to push myself up.
The world seemed to be spinning. Looking ahead, the Black Bride stood frozen in place.
Why? I soon found out.
Because I could see it with my own eyes.
“…”
A deep wound had appeared on the Black Bride’s shoulder.
She had evaded the neck, but she hadn’t been able to completely block the thrust.
That wound looked far more serious than the injury I had sustained from her kick.
“Oh…”
The spectators were no longer jeering.
Instead, they were focused on the match in silence, eyes wide and mouths agape. This match was no longer an execution, nor was it a rookie hunt.
Every single spectator thought the same thing.
“One minute. There is one minute left until the end of the match!”
Perhaps they were witnessing the birth of a new star today.
