Despite their long and arduous resistance, the fall of Han happened in an instant. The “Guardian Dragon,” a creature that had previously existed only in founding myths, appeared like a savior, but the descendant of Khan brought the dragon down from the sky like a god of war incarnate. As the Guardian Dragon lay dying and bleeding, the walls of the once-insignificant peninsula were finally shattered. The conquest army of the “Great Land,” having finally breached Han, rampaged as if to purge every past humiliation in blood. Everything from the capital to the remotest villages was put to the torch. Their blades did not discriminate between the elderly, children, or women. Death was dealt to all with cold impartiality.
The mercenary groups dispatched by the greedy Red Bank of the Black Archipelago and the Steel Legion of the Iron Kingdom Chervil—who joined any war regardless of its cause—also took part. They moved busily to squeeze every bit of profit they could from the collapsing nation. Ironically, their participation was a stroke of luck for the citizens of Han. Unlike the conquest army that slaughtered everyone in sight, the foreign soldiers who arrived under the guise of reinforcements took women and children as prisoners. Thus, the survivors looked at the flags and made a choice: whether to flee or to raise their hands and be captured.
“You must live, child.”
That was the path to survival offered to the young, unknowing Seol-yoon by a defeated soldier. The visibly gaunt man did not speak of the war. He did not recount how fierce the battles were or how bravely the soldiers had fought. He simply apologized with a hollow expression, witnessing the consequences of their defeat firsthand.
Once, Seol-yoon had looked at the defeated soldier with vacant eyes and asked, “Could you teach me the way of the sword?”
As she spoke, she rambled about the legends of the Immortals she had heard from her father. Sitting before the blazing campfire, the soldier laughed at the absurd legend. He didn’t tell her that Immortals didn’t exist or that it was merely a fictional tale.
“My swordsmanship is pathetic. I didn’t survive because I was strong; I survived because I was a coward.”
“…”
“But well, if even a single stroke of my sword can be given, I will give you as much as you want. Whatever I have that might help you, I will give it all. Perhaps it will serve as my atonement.”
The soldier’s swordsmanship was indeed pathetic.
He would say, “A paradise where there are precious people and nostalgic times… That sounds lovely. It’s a much more wonderful world than the heaven promised by the nine goddesses and seven chief gods.”
The defeated soldier was an optimistic man.
He said that if the war hadn’t broken out, he would have wanted to become a scholar—a man of letters who recited poetry while leisurely admiring the beauty of nature. Once, while they were wandering aimlessly, Seol-yoon saw the soldier washing himself. His body was covered in scars, but that wasn’t what caught her eye. His body was grotesque. It wasn’t from sword or spear wounds; parts of his flesh were rotting and crumbling like spoiled food. The soldier didn’t hide it; he explained his condition plainly.
“It’s leprosy. They call us lepers.”
“…”
“I caught it while hiding in a leper’s den to stay alive. Maybe it’s thanks to this that I’m still breathing. Even the brave warriors of the Great Land seem to fear a leper. Hehe.”
The defeated soldier was a dying man.
He only told her late into their journey, and only then did Seol-yoon realize his body was failing. She didn’t mind touching him. The soldier, acting as her guide, grew weaker with each passing day. Though his voice sounded like a young man’s, his face had become that of an old man, and his body withered like an elder’s.
He said it like a habit. “No matter how hard it gets, no matter how harsh the world is, you must live.”
It was a phrase constantly on his lips.
“If you survive… you can see… tomorrow.”
“…”
“No one knows… what will be… in tomorrow. To reach that paradise you want to go to, to become an Immortal… you have to be alive first…”
Seol-yoon cared for the soldier as he weakened day by day. For the first time in her life, she witnessed the process of a human being dying. In a world that had collapsed, she watched in excruciating detail as the man who had pulled her from the wreckage was destroyed.
From that day on, Seol-yoon could never simply pass by a sick person. A human being standing at the crossroads where body and mind are being destroyed was a truly piteous thing. Yes, truly piteous.
Yet, even as he crumbled, the soldier always told Seol-yoon he was sorry. Sometimes he sobbed like a child. Seol-yoon didn’t think he was ugly. She didn’t hate him. If anything, what she grew to hate was the world—the world that pushed them so ruthlessly.
How much time had passed?
An army appeared before Seol-yoon and the defeated soldier.
The flag they flew did not belong to the Great Land.
It was the Iron Kingdom Chervil.
The Steel Legion.
*
The reason the conquest army of the “Great Land” is classified as the strongest among all ground forces is simple. Possessing most of the territory on the Eastern Continent, the Great Land boasts a massive population proportional to its vast lands. Based on that population, they maintain an army of staggering proportions. Those who have witnessed the advance of the Great Land describe it as a tidal wave of humanity passing through.
Furthermore, that immense army moves in perfect unison under the command of a single absolute leader: the descendant of Khan. To them, the descendant of Khan is a god-like being who can maneuver the massive host at will with a single word. The soldiers do not even fear death.
Thus, the true reason the conquest army is terrifying is the existence of the descendant of Khan. However, even without him, they are threatening enough. They possess overwhelming numbers, and interspersed among the ordinary cavalry are the Great Warriors of the plains.
“Whew—!”
To maintain even a semblance of a formation, those Great Warriors had to be dealt with. If I summoned the Guardian Dragon, I could handle them easily, but it wasn’t wise to waste its uses here. There was still too much time left. Besides, I could handle a crisis of this level on my own.
‘It’s best to finish this quickly while Maia has Seol-yoon occupied.’
I took a single breath.
Following “The Path” that unfolded before me, I moved like a gust of wind. The continuous trajectory of my blade claimed the lives of the enemies. The massive army surged toward me, but I alone ran in the opposite direction through the gaps in their ranks. Every time a whirlwind of steel struck, soldiers collapsed in heaps.
“You!”
They seemed to have no intention of leaving a nuisance like me alone any longer. Fierce spears were thrust at me. As soon as I dodged a spear, arrows came flying. A body granted the power of a superhuman can perform movements that transcend human limits. I dodged the arrows by performing an aerial backflip like an acrobat. While suspended in the air, I heard an incantation being chanted in the distance. Shamanism. I couldn’t tell what kind of spell it was, but it wouldn’t work on me. I had learned how to resist magic while fighting the Black Mage Jerry Selfit.
“Hah—”
I cut through the “Path” of the sorcery. The unfolding mystery vanished, and bewilderment flickered in the enemies’ eyes. Awakening my “Wildness,” I swung my sword in a wide arc, cutting down the surrounding foes. I kicked up a spear lying on the ground with my toe, caught the spinning shaft, and hurled it into the distance. An animalistic combat style that utilized everything in the chaotic battlefield—this, too, was “Wildness.”
With a sickening thud, another enemy died. A Great Warrior with glaring eyes charged at me. I awakened “Gale.” My target wasn’t the warrior, but the horse he was riding. Simply disrupting the rhythm of the horse’s gallop would cause him to fall. However, his spear was faster than the wind I summoned.
“Ugh!”
I barely managed to block the spear with my blade. Even so, I couldn’t fully deflect the impact, and my body was sent flying backward. The Great Warrior snorted in derision.
“They called it a ghost-possessed blade! Is this all a ghost amounts to?”
I spat out a mouthful of blood.
‘He’s insanely fast.’
The problem wasn’t the warrior’s spear. It was the warhorse he rode, clad in blue armor. That horse was fast enough to be considered a monster. It didn’t just run; its speed was comparable to an arrow leaving a bowstring. Moreover, the spear thrust with that full momentum was excessively powerful. If my sword hadn’t been made of Winter Steel, the blade would have snapped instantly…
‘How should I respond?’
He was a troublesome opponent.
As I fell into deep thought, the Dragon Sword vibrated with a sharp ring once more.
『…The…』
It was hard to understand what it was saying.
Nevertheless, the Dragon Sword continued to cry out.
As if desperate to make its words known.
『The stars… are…』
I didn’t have the luxury to pay attention to it.
“Doubt” awakened. I assigned meaning to every single movement of the Great Warrior and predicted his next action. Following the “Path” drawn by my mind, I swung my sword. Clang! The sword and spear collided head-on. Normally, I should have been pushed back. However…
『I once… read a book… from the West.』
My heart is made of Steel. Unless there is a truly massive gap in power, my sword always holds an overwhelming advantage in such stalemates. Bewilderment colored the Great Warrior’s face. It must have been much heavier than he expected.
『A certain passage written on white paper… was so magnificent, it felt as if it represented my own life.』
I lowered my stance and swung. The legs of the blue-armored horse were severed, and blood geysered out as the horse pitched forward. A shrill neigh echoed as the Great Warrior’s balance broke. I drove my sword into his head as it tumbled toward me. I crushed his skull, ending the life of the man who had charged so majestically.
“You bastard—!”
But it wasn’t over.
There were far too many enemies.
I raised my sword.
But a single blade could not face them all.
With a sharp sting, a wound appeared on my neck. Scars multiplied on the areas my armor didn’t protect. All the while, the Dragon Sword continued to speak. Now, the voice had become clear enough to understand. Truly clear.
『It was written there as follows.』
The voice was incredibly dignified, heavy, yet gentle.
Countless waves of killing intent were directed at me.
At the same time, my chest grew hot, as if my heart had been set on fire.
And in the next moment.
『How happy were the ages when the starry sky was the map of all possible paths—ages whose paths were illuminated by the light of the stars?』
Before I knew it, I had drawn the Dragon Sword, which I had kept sheathed.
『And how happy were the ages when the starlight clearly lit those paths?』
It was as if I were being led by the sword.
『I yearned for the Age of Stars. Not an era of war like this.』
*
Valkyries.
Seol-yoon knew of them. It was a title granted only to the greatest female warriors among the barbarians of the North. Even if one is a warrior at the pinnacle of a group of barbarians, the pinnacle is still the pinnacle. And in any group, those who reach the top are bound to be called geniuses.
This Valkyrie was likely the same.
She must have been noted for her dazzling talent since childhood, seen action early for her age, and become a proper warrior through steady effort.
Seol-yoon believed that a conversation held through the sword was closer to the truth than one held through words. And the fighting spirit and life she felt from the Valkyrie’s sword were sufficiently intense. This Valkyrie had likely never been idle for a single moment. She must have lived every second to her fullest.
Therefore.
“…It seems the name Valkyrie suits you better after all!”
This result was purely a difference in talent.
“Amazing. To think I was a frog in a well. I’ve heard the word ‘genius’ countless times in my life. I was told that I was the only one in the Lakota Mountains to become a Valkyrie at my age in hundreds of years.”
“…Is that so?”
“But it was all an illusion. I wasn’t a genius. A genius is someone like you…”
Valkyrie Maia let out a hollow laugh.
“I’m envious. A sword chosen by the heavens.”
Maia’s severed left hand lay twitching in the dirt.
Red blood was pouring endlessly from her stump.
Seol-yoon spoke in a flat voice.
“There’s nothing to be envious of.”
There wasn’t a single wound on Seol-yoon’s body that could even be called a scratch.
“…Because I received this one thing as the price for having everything else taken away.”
Not a single one.
*
[[Time remaining until the end of the War Duel: 20:50:14]]
