“You have to surrender.”
The defeated soldier spoke, his voice raspy.
“It is the only way to survive. The Great Warriors of the plains take no prisoners. Those madmen butcher everyone—women and children alike. But the mercenaries sent by the Black Archipelago and the Steel Legion of the Iron Kingdom are different. They didn’t come here for a glorious victory. They are scavengers, pouncing just to pick up whatever scraps they can find.”
“……”
“They won’t kill you. They’ll try to take you as a trophy. Did you know? The nobles of the West have strange delusions about the people of the Eastern Continent. They say that merely having an Easterner around brings good luck, or that Eastern children possess extraordinary talent for the martial arts……”
The soldier stroked Seol-yoon’s shoulder as he spoke. Seol-yoon looked up at him and asked, “Then what about you?”
The soldier couldn’t answer immediately. They both knew the truth. There was no chance for him to live. Even those with fantasies about the East wouldn’t take a grown man prisoner—especially not one who had served in the 「Conquest War」. Furthermore, the soldier was a leper. No one would want a filthy, diseased man as a trophy.
“I’ll be fine.”
But Seol-yoon was different.
An orphan harvested from the ruins of war was a trophy they would welcome. Children were easier to tame and brainwash than adults. Moreover, Seol-yoon was objectively beautiful. Many nobles would covet her.
“I should have died a long time ago.”
The soldier had no intention of letting Seol-yoon spend the rest of her life as a slave, kept like an ornamental flower. Living like a noble’s dog might be a fate worse than dying on this battlefield. Thus, the soldier decided to burn the remainder of his life for the girl. He would fulfill his failed duty to his country by taking responsibility for this one life. He believed his parents, wife, and brothers who had passed before him would understand. For a man who had fled a crushing defeat only to become a leper, it was a decent way to go.
“There is no future for me.”
“……”
“But you are different.”
The soldier picked up a broken spear.
“Our ancestors said that children hold infinite possibilities. Pure children are like the night sky; they can become anything. I believe those words. Unlike me, worn down to the bone, you have a future. It would be an honor to die for that future.”
“……”
“You can become anything, child.”
Gripping the broken spear, the soldier forced his heavy body upright.
“Those men belong to the Steel Legion of Chervil, an Iron Kingdom famous in the West. Chervil is known for valuing ability above all else, regardless of origin or status. If they saw a young girl who killed their trained soldiers with a single blade, what would they think? Would they be angry? No.”
“……”
“They would see her as a precious trophy. They would see a highly valuable talent found in a fallen nation—someone far too valuable to be kept as a mere ornament. That’s how the people of the Iron Kingdom are. Every last one of them has something wrong with their heads.”
The soldier let out a hacking, phlegm-filled cough.
“Child, the life ahead of you will be harsh. But you must overcome it. I will burn what remains of my life to open a path for you. I will make you a rose with thorns.”
“……”
“There will be no path of flowers. But you must live.”
Coughing, the soldier began to limp away.
“If you survive, you can see tomorrow.”
“……”
“See tomorrow. Polish the sword you hold. Become an Immortal and reach Paradise. And there, reclaim the precious things that we pathetic adults failed to protect……”
Muttering those words, the soldier walked toward the Steel Legion. The mercenaries, who had been chatting amongst themselves, saw the limping man approaching. The soldier pulled off the helmet hiding his face, revealing his hideously disfigured, leprous features. The men of the Steel Legion frowned in disgust.
“Get lost, you filthy leper!”
“What rotten luck, having a diseased freak crawl toward us……”
The soldier approached in silence. Then, letting out a beastly shriek, he thrust his broken spear into the ranks of the Steel Legion. His movements were clumsy, but desperate. He wasn’t strong, but he was terrifying. Even as he was torn to pieces, the soldier managed to kill four of the Steel Legion’s men. Terrified by his demonic persistence, the soldiers retreated, blowing a horn to call for reinforcements.
The soldier fell to his knees, watching the retreating backs of the mercenaries. Only then did Seol-yoon run to him from her hiding place. His body was drenched in blood, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“They will return,” he whispered, making one last terrible request. “To avenge their comrades and grant me a shameful death.”
“……”
“Before that, you must kill me.”
The soldier’s eyes were glazed over.
“Pick up a blade and end my life. Then, tell the returning soldiers this: a leper with a depraved lust for children tried to assault you, so you killed him in one stroke. Say you don’t know how you did it. If they ask for details, make up something abstract. It doesn’t matter if it’s nonsensical. Make it vague and interesting, so they imagine you are a genius……”
“……Ah, ahh.”
“If they order you to swing a sword, tell them it doesn’t flash now, but something flashed back then. Let them imagine whatever they want. Let them mistake you for a prodigy……”
“I—I can’t! I can’t do that!”
“You must.”
In his final moment, the soldier smiled.
“You have to survive and see tomorrow, don’t you?”
Sobbing, Seol-yoon looked at the soldier as he solemnly closed his eyes. In that moment, his face and body, ravaged by leprosy, did not look hideous to her. His lips and eyelids were trembling. He was a human being—one who felt fear even as he tried to accept death with dignity.
Seol-yoon spoke one last time.
“I will… I will definitely become an Immortal. I’ll go to Paradise and find my precious people.”
“You will.”
“You’ll be there too. You’ll be in my Paradise. So don’t be afraid. Just wait for me. Just wait a little while.”
At her words, the soldier smiled behind closed eyes.
“Thank you.”
For the first time, he offered gratitude instead of an apology.
Seol-yoon’s sword clumsily pierced the soldier’s neck. Her technique was unskilled; the blade caught on the bone and failed to sever his windpipe cleanly. The soldier died only after a long, agonizing struggle. Even through her sobbing, Seol-yoon did what she had to do. Killing was horrific, but even as he faced the slow process of death, the soldier never uttered a word of resentment. He didn’t even say he was sorry. He just whispered “thank you,” over and over again…….
*
A short while later, reinforcements from the Steel Legion arrived.
There were far more soldiers than before, but they weren’t alone. Another flag flew alongside theirs—the banner of the conquest army of the 「Great Land」 that had trampled this soil. It was the flag of ‘Khan,’ symbolizing the sun that never sets.
“The leper is dead, but there is a girl here.”
A presence incomparable to the Steel Legion emerged. At the center of the conquest army sat a massive man mounted on a pitch-black horse. He radiated an aura like a War God descended to earth.
“Did you kill this sinner, girl of the Peninsula?”
The Descendant of Khan was there. From atop his horse, he glanced down at the soldier’s corpse.
Seol-yoon did exactly as she had been instructed.
“I… I killed this man in one stroke……”
Seol-yoon tried her best to weave the story, but the Descendant of Khan realized the truth the moment he saw the body. One who has reached the pinnacle of martial arts can deduce the truth of a struggle just by looking at the traces left behind. He knew the soldier had chosen death without resisting. He even read the intention behind the act. It was a deed unworthy of a warrior, but the Descendant of Khan did not speak of what he had discerned.
“……A while ago, a certain mad warrior from the Iron Kingdom came to me. He requested that if he lost a duel against me, I should not kill anyone under the age of eighteen in this war. It is deeply unpleasant, but as the loser of that duel, I must keep my promise.”
The Descendant of Khan looked at the soldiers of the Steel Legion. They seemed intrigued by Seol-yoon’s story. After all, did the Westerners not have strange fantasies about the people of the East? The Descendant of Khan smiled.
One of the Steel Legion soldiers spoke up. “Descendant of Khan, if I may be so bold, we would like to take that girl as our trophy……”
“Do as you wish.”
The Descendant of Khan thought it might be interesting to let the girl be sold to the lands of the West. Compared to the 「Great Land」, the Iron Kingdom was a trivial nation, but it was one that operated according to a harsh logic of power. Would the girl survive there? There was no way to know. That was why it was interesting. Everything would flow according to the will of the Father Who Never Sleeps.
“Come here.”
Thanking the Descendant of Khan, the Steel Legion took the small girl. Bound by a loose rope, Seol-yoon was led toward a strange, foreign land. The girl worried about how she would maintain the act of being a genius to preserve her life.
But that concern was meaningless.
Because.
“This girl is special.”
There was no need for her to pretend.
“To find such a sparkling raw gem in the gutter.”
A single talent had been granted to the girl who had lost everything. That talent ensured her black hair and black eyes were seen as a mark of prestige rather than a flaw in a foreign land.
“You are a natural genius, Seol-yoon.”
*
Maia, the Valkyrie of the Lakota Mountains, found the situation impossible to accept.
“Pfft, hahaha.”
She had fought countless warriors. She had won duels against the bravest barbarians of the North and defeated hordes of monsters that ruled the mountain ranges. She had driven back invaders after grueling battles. She was a veteran of a thousand conflicts.
“I can’t believe it. I just can’t.”
But even looking back at all her past battles, she had never experienced anything like this. It wasn’t just a level of skill she hadn’t encountered; it was something she hadn’t even imagined. Maia struggled to grip her greatsword through her fading consciousness. Her head spun from the blood loss at her severed left wrist.
“As expected! The world is truly vast!”
During the first clash, Maia felt that the swordswoman’s realm was similar to her own. Their strength and speed were equal—if anything, Maia had the upper hand. But as time passed, Maia was overwhelmed. The process was something an ordinary talent could not even comprehend.
“Hyaaaah—!”
Maia swung her greatsword.
Seol-yoon swung her sword in response. The two blades followed identical trajectories and collided perfectly in the center. The subsequent exchange was the same. As if performing a choreographed spar, perfectly identical movements were executed by both blades. In that moment, Maia felt as if she were fighting her own reflection in a mirror. Everything she had built over a lifetime—the secret sword arts passed down to the Valkyries of the Lakota Mountains—was being performed by this girl from the Eastern Continent.
“Everything… everything has been stolen. In such a short time.”
“……”
“And the more we fight, the more perfect it becomes. Now your sword is far more refined and exquisite than the one I swing. I can’t believe it. Truly……”
Seol-yoon’s eyes flashed.
Suddenly, the Valkyrie swordsmanship no longer flowed from Seol-yoon’s hands. Instead of the techniques of the northern barbarians, she used a sword that resembled nature itself, containing the deep mysteries of the East. Maia could neither block nor dodge. She could only think it was incredibly beautiful—like the waterfall she had seen for the first time as a child in the Lakota Mountains, holding her father’s hand.
“Ah……”
The greatsword fell from Maia’s right hand. Kneeling, she accepted her defeat. Once she died, she would be eliminated and expelled from the spiritual world. Before that, Maia wanted to solve one mystery.
“That sword just now…… from whom did you steal it?”
“……I didn’t steal it.”
“Then from whom did you learn it? I want to know… the name of that style.”
Seol-yoon answered calmly. “I didn’t learn it from anyone, either.”
“Then……”
Seol-yoon silently leveled her sword, the tip touching Maia’s neck. Looking at the Valkyrie’s hollow breaths, Seol-yoon recalled the words she had heard while learning the blade.
— Seol-yoon, there is nothing left to teach you.
At the academy, and from the various masters who had come to instruct her, they all said the same thing. Seol-yoon had learned dozens of styles, but she didn’t use any of them.
— Your talent is far too magnificent.
The reason was simple.
— In the Eastern Continent, they call those with talent like yours by a specific name.
There was no need to use them.
— Grand Master.
Because Seol-yoon already possessed the most magnificent sword.
— In time, everyone will know your name.
It was a sword that developed alongside her growth—a style that was perfect only when wielded by her, because it was created by her.
“It doesn’t have a name yet. I don’t have a talent for naming things.”
“Heh, hahaha……”
Seol-yoon’s sword was her own creation. Realizing that, Maia had nothing left to say. Feeling the cold steel pierce her neck, Maia quietly closed her eyes, lamenting that the talent of a true natural genius was something far too violent.
“……”
Seol-yoon looked down at the collapsed Maia and recalled a past conversation. The masters who had taught her once asked:
— Seol-yoon, how on earth did you come to possess such a sword?
She had replied: ‘There was someone who told me I could become anything.’
Seol-yoon still remembered the promise of that day. She remembered the words of the soldier who died so miserably. Because of him, Seol-yoon could become anything. She could steal anyone’s sword. The will embedded in her heart and her heaven-sent talent made it possible.
And so, Seol-yoon created this sword.
To survive. To see tomorrow. To reach the heavens and become an Immortal. To keep a promise and reclaim what she had lost. To prove to a certain man, who had believed in a pathetic girl dying in a pool of blood, that his belief was not wrong.
“……There are still many enemies left.”
The girl turned her gaze. The fight was not yet over.
*
When I opened my eyes, my hand wasn’t holding a sword made of Winter Steel, but a different blade. It wasn’t sharp; it was a flamboyant ornament. Yet, in this moment, a chilling sharpness flowed from it.
“……What the.”
The Dragon Sword was stained bright red with the blood of enemies.
Frowning, I turned my head and saw a mountain of corpses. The Great Warriors of the plains lay dead with their eyes wide open. Other soldiers were staring at me as if they were looking at a ghost. Then again, the sword I had just swung was far too abnormal.
“What is this?”
「It is the voice of the sword. Did I not tell you? A flame lies dormant within it.」
“……”
「The soul contained in the sword recognized the Steel Blood. And it spoke to you.」
In the middle of the battlefield, Liam looked at me and grinned.
「It told you to devour it.」
The Dragon Sword was still trembling violently.
「Do as it wishes, young descendant.」
“……Is that really okay?”
「That blade is more than enough to be the second sacrifice for your wings.」
“No, but this isn’t mine; it’s something I borrowed for a moment.”
「Why do you worry about such complicated things?」 Liam said. 「Just do it first and think later. That is how a Caravan is supposed to live.」
It was an incredibly irresponsible thing to say.
But.
“……Well, I suppose that’s how I’ve lived until now.”
It was tempting. Honestly, quite a lot.
*
「The Steel Blood is hungry.」
「Consume the new sword.」
