Thick darkness shrouded the rugged mountain path.
A sickly knight and a young girl were making their arduous ascent.
“ Haa… cough! Young Master Arhan… just how much further?”
The knight, Petel, gasped for air, his coughs flecked with blood. It was a pathetic sight. Before he had even been initiated into the way of the sword, his physical endurance had been his greatest pride.
To think he was panting like a withered old man just from climbing a small mountain like this.
As Petel paused to catch his breath, Seol-yoon approached and supported him. Petel found himself leaning his weight on a girl much smaller and younger than himself. It was truly a sorry state of affairs.
“Are you okay? Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“I-I am fine. I was merely… catching my breath for a moment.”
He couldn’t show weakness. That was one of the few shreds of pride Petel had left.
Watching the exhausted knight, Seol-yoon asked, “Do you really have to follow him?”
“Yes. I told you, that man is a runaway knight. He is not an opponent Young Master Arhan can handle. I only told the boy they were a simple band of bandits….”
Unlike himself, a man on the verge of death, Arhan was a rising sun. Had he not seen glimpses of extraordinary talent in the boy? As a fellow traveler on the path of the sword, Petel could not let Arhan die such a meaningless death. Never.
“Furthermore, what if the knights pursuing the runaway mistake Young Master Arhan for one of the bandits and attack him? Young Master Arhan has brilliant talent, but he is still nothing more than a greenhorn.”
Petel forced his trembling legs to move, dragging himself up the mountain.
“Hmm.”
Hearing Petel’s words, Seol-yoon stopped in her tracks instead of following. Petel turned his head, confused by her sudden halt.
“Why have you stopped?”
“I don’t think so.”
You don’t think so?
It was a sudden, cryptic remark.
Petel looked at Seol-yoon, his expression asking for an explanation. Seol-yoon met his gaze and spoke in a steady, unwavering voice.
“The Small Gladiator isn’t a greenhorn.”
Seol-yoon’s eyes sparkled in the gloom.
“The Small Gladiator’s talent has already begun to bloom.”
*
I discarded the Needle and gripped a dagger in each hand. At a glance, they looked like the teeth of a beast—like fangs shining sharply on either side, ready to tear out an enemy’s throat.
The reason for discarding the Needle was simple.
For the assassin’s arts I was about to use, a long, thin blade would only get in the way. The size of a fang was just right.
A short blade that felt like an extension of my hand.
This was enough.
From this moment on, “Fang” would move as a part of my body, living up to its name.
“ Phew. ”
I took shallow breaths and melted into the dense darkness.
This was the stealth technique used by the former master of Fang.
『The darkness was my friend.』
This stealth technique was not a special skill utilizing magic or mana. It was a trick of the trade, a psychological technique designed to create an illusion.
『To face enemies stronger and more numerous than myself, I had to borrow the strength of my friend.』
『I had to become the darkness.』
I held my breath, ensuring not even my clothes rustled. I walked like a ghost, silencing my footsteps completely.
“…What kind of dog-shit trick is—”
With that alone, my location was hidden.
“What the hell are you?”
Of course, there was a process that had to be performed beforehand. Before vanishing, I had intentionally breathed loudly, made my Mana Heart beat violently, brushed against bushes, and rubbed my clothes together to create noise.
I had deliberately inflated and flaunted my presence.
So that when I suddenly erased it, the contrast would make it feel as if I had vanished into thin air.
“I said, what are you?!”
Human senses are sometimes surprisingly sensitive, but at other times, they are surprisingly dull. It was an illusion created by momentary contrast.
The assassin described this as ‘becoming the darkness.’
“…”
The leader’s breathing echoed loudly. Along with it, a terrible silence descended. It was a silence born from the fact that I had already killed all the subordinates around him, and the noise I had been making until just a moment ago had abruptly ceased.
The complete silence of a night mountain without a single disturbance.
In such silence, humans are bound to become excessively tense. Even a superhuman is no exception. I knew that fact very well.
『Even the executioners were human in the end.』
I picked up a pebble from the ground. Then, I threw it toward the leader’s blue “Path” visible through the darkness. The pebble flew weakly and touched the Path, causing the leader’s head to whip around violently.
Simultaneously, the leader’s sword reflexively lashed out toward the pebble.
“Gotcha—”
The gallant and swift sword sliced through the air. With a shattering sound, the pebble crumbled. At the same time, I saw the leader’s face contort sharply.
“—you?”
Because he had swung with all his might, his balance tilted precariously. I did not miss that opening. Aiming Fang at the leader’s exposed side, I kicked off the ground and leaped through the air like a circus performer.
『Like a hawk hunting, you must strike at once and snatch their life away.』
I lunged with Fang.
I saw the Path near his vital points, specifically the nape of his neck. But the moment the tip of the blade touched the blue Path, the leader’s body began to twist at an incredible speed.
His head was clearly facing the other way, yet he reacted and countered as accurately as if he had eyes in the back of his skull. This was the Path. The power of a superhuman.
The moment the tip of Fang touched the leader’s nape, his sword came rushing in.
“You brat! I’ve got you!”
I saw the leader’s eyes, bloodshot and red from burst veins. They were the eyes of a beast. A terrifying, bloodthirsty beast.
The sword flew in on a bizarrely twisted trajectory.
As expected, was it impossible to break through the Path?
No, that wasn’t it.
『There is always a way out.』
I resumed the breath I had been holding.
I inhaled as deeply as I could.
My whole body trembled as if electrified, and my Mana Heart pounded.
My sword grew hard. It would not retreat, no matter what it collided with.
『Yes, anywhere.』
Veins bulged on my forearms.
Power surged. A power different from before.
『Even if death stands right before my eyes.』
Along with that power, intense memories poured out from Fang.
『I always desired freedom.』
『It was certain that such a desire was contained within the sword.』
It felt as if my heart was turning cold.
Like ice.
『Because someone had to get blood on their hands to reclaim that freedom.』
*
The Free City Crowde did not live up to its name.
This city had lost its freedom long ago, and someone had to get blood on their hands to win it back.
I willingly volunteered for that role.
“Citizens of Crowde, behold! The end of an assassin crazed with blood and slaughter!”
But now that the end was approaching, a question arose.
Would the citizens ever recognize my hard work?
“Look at the Ghost of Crowde, who hid his face like a rat in the back alleys and made honest executioners and citizens tremble in fear!”
I had learned how to fight through constant struggle in the Arena of the Iron Kingdom Chervil, and I had learned about the importance of freedom from the scholars of the Sky Empire.
Through various lessons and experiences, I thought:
This is for my own sake, so even if I die a vain death one day, I will have no regrets.
But I suppose I was a weak human after all. As the end drew near, doubts surfaced.
Those people.
The citizens looking at me with eyes trembling in fear—would they ever know that I willingly played the villain for the sake of freedom?
“The end of one who breaks the order is miserable! Citizens, know this well. You only need to follow the order. Do not try to resist, unless you wish to die a pathetic death!”
No, they wouldn’t know.
The victors would distort the truth.
Once I was dead, the citizens would forget my toil, forget the blood I shed, and go back to living as slaves without freedom.
That must not happen.
Even if I died like this, there was something I wanted to leave behind.
I wanted to see the scene where your shackles were broken and freedom, even if only for a moment, arrived. Perhaps choosing to be stained by darkness was for my own sake after all.
“…Executioner.”
I slowly raised my head and looked forward.
It was high noon, with no darkness for me to hide in; the surroundings were all dead ends, and the great executioners had completely cut off my escape routes.
I felt the Paths of death surrounding me.
I also felt the fixed fate that would soon come for me. They would execute me.
Then, what should I do?
“Executioner.”
There was no need to agonize.
What I had to do was clear.
I had to get blood on my hands.
I had to engrave the fact that resistance was possible into their minds.
Only then.
“Executioner!”
Only then would those left behind remember the freedom I showed them, even briefly, for the rest of their lives.
Only then would they finally realize that one must resist to obtain what is precious, and one must struggle to be liberated.
“You all die here.”
With my wound-covered body, I raised Fang. The executioners laughed.
They mocked me as if watching a pathetic dog bark.
Without a word, I raised my sword.
And I lunged toward the Path.
“Wh—”
The moment I entered the Path, an executioner’s longsword severed my arm. Ignoring it, I pressed forward and drove my dagger into the executioner’s throat.
“ Gasp— ”
A blade pierced my chest. Ignoring it, I moved forward and committed another murder.
Even as another blade pierced my side, my shoulder was sliced, my ear was cut off, and half the skin on my face was peeled away and dangling, I walked on steadfastly.
No one mocked me anymore.
“Listen.”
With blood covering my entire body and death gnawing at me, I looked at the last executioner who had collapsed, trembling. The citizens gathered around were staring at me.
“Do not bow your heads. If they take away what you should enjoy, if they cross the line to insult you and defile your lives, you must resist. Let them know clearly that you, too, have teeth.”
There was no strength left in my body.
I squeezed out the very last of my vitality to speak.
“Only then can we be free.”
“…”
“The… Free City Crowde… does not live up to its name. I think so, and so do you. Then… do you know what must be done to reclaim… freedom?”
It felt as if my entire body was crumbling like dry sand.
For some reason, the citizens were looking at me as if possessed.
“To reclaim freedom… someone must get blood on their hands. Whoever… that may be.”
With that, my consciousness collapsed.
Through my fading awareness, I heard the passionate shouts of the citizens.
It wasn’t my Fang that killed the last executioner. It was the feet of the swarming citizens, the clubs they brought, and the fists of the men that finished him off.
To my eyes, it looked as if the citizens, who had been crouching and venting their resentment in silence, had finally bared their teeth and were biting the enemy.
“Freedom! Freedom!”
The citizens lifted my fallen body. Every single citizen gathered in the square was marching somewhere. As if they had all made a pact, they wore hoods to hide their faces and held daggers that would normally be used for simple tasks.
As if to honor me.
“Return freedom to the Free City Crowde!”
At the moment of death, for some reason, I felt truly free for the first time in my life. In the midst of such a turbulent society, the assassin closed his eyes.
With a face of relief.
I had lived in oppression before leaping into the darkness, and yet my death, after living stained by that darkness, was surprisingly bright. Looking at the sky where the midday sun blazed, I died.
For some reason, I didn’t want to describe my end as death.
I had become completely free.
My sword had succeeded in piercing a hole in this godforsaken Free City. Everyone would escape through the hole I made. In search of freedom.
Forward, further forward.
.
.
.
Clang—!
After the assassin’s memories were completely digested, my heart turned cold as if winter had arrived. Like metal that had been heated to its limit suddenly cooling outside the furnace.
“—What?!”
The dagger that met the leader’s ferocious sword did not retreat. Even though it had collided head-on with the Path, it held its ground steadfastly. The leader wore a look of disbelief.
“What the hell are you, I said!”
Instead of backing away, I took a step forward to close the distance.
At a range where we were almost touching, a series of vicious attacks were exchanged in an instant.
Clang—!
Fang and the thick sword collided.
Sparks flew. After spinning the deflected Fang in the air, I gripped it in a reverse hold and stabbed his thigh and side, piercing holes in him.
Spurt—!
Red blood sprayed. Piercing through the spray of blood, I lunged with Fang again and again. I thrust my leg forward as if dragging it along the ground, attempting to trip the leader’s front foot to knock him down.
“Tricks! A greenhorn like you is trying to attempt Sword Wrestling on me?”
But he didn’t fall. The leader’s legs were like pillars.
I twisted my body bizarrely, moving like a snake.
“…!”
I utilized the stealth technique that erased my presence.
Since it was dark, the effect was even more dramatic.
I repeatedly erased my presence and then flaunted it, inflating it to confuse him.
To the leader’s eyes, I must have looked like a ghost.
Appearing and disappearing from various angles, I stabbed relentlessly with Fang. The blade of Fang was now completely stained red. Even so, I didn’t stop.
Piercing flesh, tearing muscle, slicing skin, boring holes in his body, and whittling away his life.
“Agh, aaaaaargh!”
The leader swung his sword wildly through the air like a madman. Then, he suddenly did something unexpected. He discarded the sword in his hand and lunged at me with his bare hands.
A stupid move.
But it was an unpredictable attack.
‘This madman.’
The leader grabbed the two daggers I had stabbed into him with his palms. His palms were stained with blood and flesh fell away in clumps, but the leader didn’t care. Holding the blades with his bare hands, he wrenched my daggers away.
“I’ll crush your head! I’ll pop it! You little brat!”
Like a true beast, the leader threw his weight forward and tackled me to the ground.
With a thud, my back hit the dirt. Pain flared in my waist. Simultaneously, a heavy weight pressed down on my chest. The leader had pinned me down.
“I’m going to crush your skull and scatter everything inside it! And! In that village! I’ll put it on display!”
Beyond the darkness, I saw the leader’s face, consumed by madness.
My two Fangs were rolling on the dirt floor. There was nothing in my hands.
“Heh, hahahahaha!”
The leader drooled, glaring at me with bloodshot eyes. Soon, he raised both hands high, preparing to smash my head. Those barbaric fists would shatter my skull in an instant.
But at this moment, I did not despair.
Like a bolt of lightning, a faint Line appeared in the world I was looking at.
『My words have been proven once again, young descendant.』
It was the Line I had seen occasionally during combat until now.
That Line was faint at first, but in the next moment, it became clearer and sharper than anything else in my sight. As if it were bisecting the world I was looking at.
『That is the “Path.”』
Thump.
My Mana Heart was throbbing more intensely than ever since its birth. Every time the Mana Heart leaped, I felt a strange sensation of something flowing through my body. It felt as if a waterfall had formed inside me.
『It will be different from what you knew. As I said before, nothing about us Caravans is the same as others. That is also one of our special qualities.』
『Our “Path” is different from that of ordinary Sword Walkers.』
Staring at the vivid straight Line, I reached for my waist as if possessed. I hadn’t bought just two daggers in the Steel City Ferma. I had bought four in total. Which meant I had two spare daggers hidden in a secret place at my waist.
A beast’s fangs are naturally four.
『The “Path” of the Caravan does not bend no matter what other path it collides with; it always heads toward where it desires. Ruthlessly piercing through any obstacle.』
『The Path of the Caravan is the Line of Steel.』
I bucked my waist. The leader’s body jolted momentarily, and in that instant, I raised my legs to force his body to lean downward. With that, the necessary distance was created.
I thrust both hands toward my waist. I pulled out the hidden Fangs and lunged with all my might. I saw the leader’s eyes waver. But his panic soon turned into a sneer.
“Try it, you—”
The leader wrapped his raised arms around his neck and head as if to protect them. Simultaneously, his Path wrapped around him as if to guard him. It was as if he were willing to give up his flesh to take my bones.
But.
『Others used to call our Path this.』
That was a mistake in judgment.
『The Line.』
A flash of light flickered for an instant. The Fang, moving along the trajectory of the vivid Line, was like a single bolt of lightning. Nothing in that trajectory could block the beam of light.
Thick skin was torn, and the leader’s arm was pulverized like a bursting balloon. Red blood poured everywhere, white bone shattered and flew in shards, and crimson muscle tore apart. The leader’s Path was ruthlessly shattered and scattered.
And the Line finally reached the leader’s throat, which those arms had been concealing.
A gurgling sound of someone losing their breath filled the air.
With two Fangs embedded in his throat, the leader wore a look of disbelief. Soon, the light in his mad eyes slowly faded away.
Covered in blood, I glared intently at the dying man.
『No one can block the Line of Steel extended by a Caravan, young descendant.』
That was it.
The very first moment I finally stepped into the realm of a superhuman.
