The Caravan Territory.
The village pulsed with a newfound vitality. It could no longer be dismissed as a nameless, dying settlement. While still a bit small to be considered a proper lordship, it was far too lively to be called a mere village. Its development was incomparable to when Seol-yoon had first arrived. Back then, the only residents were herself, Petel, and Arhan. The simple fact that it had become a place where people constantly came and went was a dazzling improvement.
“If you were still here, you would’ve loved this. You always loved to talk. You could’ve chatted with people to your heart’s content. You might have even recited a poem about the sunset you loved so much.”
Seol-yoon didn’t indulge in the territory’s new facilities or mingle with the newcomers. Instead, she sought out her departed neighbor first. She lit a dry branch, swirled it once through the air, and looked up at the sky. It was a funeral custom of the Order of Goddess Markia. Watching the pale smoke rise from the tip of the branch, Seol-yoon murmured softly.
“May the Maiden of the Heavens embrace you.”
Seol-yoon placed the smoldering branch upon Petel’s grave. Next to the branch, carved into the tombstone, was the mark of a red lip—a trace left behind by Daisy. Seol-yoon smiled faintly and began to recount trivial stories of the day. Her words were clumsy and rambling. No answer came back, yet Seol-yoon spoke as naturally as if they were engaged in a real conversation. Once finished, she offered one last prayer before heading down the ridge. On her way back, she ran into Heilyn. The bold girl was accompanied by the abrasive witch.
Witch Audrey. The perpetually cynical woman spoke the moment she spotted Seol-yoon.
“Coming down from the mountain? Ah, I heard people from the Eastern Continent love nature. Did you sleep up there and just wake up? How fascinating. But you sleep at such strange hours. Is this that thing? The ‘Mystery of the East’…”
“…”
Faced with Audrey’s remarkable talent for getting under people’s skin, Seol-yoon didn’t bother responding. While Audrey continued her rude chatter, Heilyn spoke up in an excited voice—the bright, bubbly tone characteristic of a young girl.
“I’ve started learning magic! Not the useless kind, but the real deal. An Orc Shaman named Sherdic told me that since I’m helping Young Master Arhan, he’d teach me. He even said I could invite him to the spiritual world whenever I have questions. I might actually become a proper wizard now, instead of just managing the territory! Hehe.”
“It’s still far too early for that,” Audrey interjected. “But it is surprising that he helped you just because you’re friends with the Descendant of Steel. For a Star Guide to give instruction so easily… Usually, he’s such a cranky eccentric that he wouldn’t even speak to a human if they offered him a mountain of gold.”
“An eccentric? He seemed like a very kind person to me. He even said that if I ever visit the Orcs’ Holy Land, he’d introduce me to his beautiful daughter! He said her beauty is legendary.”
“Heilyn, you clearly don’t know the Orcish standard of beauty. If an Orc says someone is ‘very beautiful,’ there’s a high chance that Orc is closer to an Ogre. She might be able to fold someone like you in half with one hand.”
“Eek!”
Heilyn was a poor girl who, after being kidnapped by a black mage, had been working with sparkling eyes to prove her worth in this village. To Seol-yoon, Heilyn seemed to have regained the spirit of a girl her age since staying here. It was a relief. She looked much better now than when she was dejected and anxious. Seeing Heilyn laugh so brightly made Seol-yoon want to pat her head. It reminded her of the children in her now-vanished hometown—and of the pitiful children who had died tragic deaths because they couldn’t even find a scrap of bread.
That was why Seol-yoon was more pleased that Heilyn had regained her youthfulness than the fact that she had a natural talent for administration or was learning magic.
“Fold me in half with one hand? Really?”
“Of course. Orcs are more than capable of that.”
“Th-then, does Lady Audrey have to run away if an Orc appears too?”
“No! I would never run away! Do you think those savage, terrifying things could even lay a finger on a Witch who commands the heavens? My husband wouldn’t stand for it if such a thing happened, but more importantly, before anything that terrible could occur, my terrifying magic would overwhelm them! No, the moment I say I’m a witch, they’ll run away in fright!”
“Whoa. Are witches really that amazing?”
“Naturally. It’s only because this place is the middle of nowhere. Do you know what it’s like in the Blade City of the Iron Kingdom? If you say you’re a witch, everyone bows their heads and trembles. And if you go to the Sky Empire, everyone looks at you with sparkling eyes. It’s a whole scene.”
“Th-that’s so cool. Could I become a witch someday too?”
The reason Heilyn had been able to regain her spirit seemed to be that she had found another girl she clicked with. Audrey. She was an unpleasant woman, but she had somehow become quite close friends with Heilyn. At Heilyn’s question, Audrey spoke boastfully.
“Hmph. Well, who knows? You’ll have to work harder. Besides, to become a witch, you have to catch my husband’s eye. You have to be very, very pretty, like me.”
“Then is it impossible for me? I’ve never been told I’m pretty in my life.”
“Hmph! You’re still young, so there might be a chance. If I could share my beauty, I’d give you some. I wouldn’t mind having a younger sister like you as a fellow bride…”
The two of them were perfectly in sync.
Watching them leave while giggling together, Seol-yoon let out a hollow laugh. Once Heilyn and Audrey were gone, Seol-yoon headed toward a corner of the village. She needed to acclimate to her “Ever-changing Mystery.” Her wings and her newly awakened Mystery were powerful, but they hadn’t fully integrated into her body yet. To use them naturally, she had to train repeatedly. While looking for a secluded spot, Seol-yoon heard the sound of metal clashing through the silence.
Following the sound, she saw Arhan.
And in front of Arhan stood an unexpected figure.
“Young Master.”
It was Tom, the caretaker of the Hall of Fame.
“I’ve said it many times, but I like you. I like your duels, I like your mindset—I like everything about you. So, I’m not saying this out of any personal malice.”
He spoke in a gentle voice as he looked at the exhausted, panting Arhan.
“Young Master, you really have no talent.”
…Despite the gentle tone, the content of his words was anything but kind.
*
“Sword Runner.”
The benchmark of the strong.
On this continent, when discussing swordsmen, the “Sword Runner” was the standard for true strength. Naturally, because it was the threshold of the elite, becoming a Sword Runner was incredibly difficult. However, once a swordsman spread their wings, they were treated entirely differently. First, a Sword Runner could compete on equal footing with magical beings who had entered the realm of Mystery, as well as spiritual beings. It was only natural, as Mystery could only be countered by Mystery.
Furthermore, they could transcend the realm of “superhuman” and achieve movements akin to a ghost. A “Sword Walker” possessed strength, speed, and senses superior to an ordinary swordsman, but not to an overwhelming degree. From “Sword Runner” onward, however, one could reign at a level that transcended the limits of the species. The Authority of Acceleration provided by the “wings” granted speed comparable to a wizard’s teleportation spell. That alone allowed a Sword Runner to personally slaughter an entire legion of ordinary swordsmen.
Therefore, to stand tall as a proper swordsman, I first had to become a Sword Runner. I had made quite a name for myself in the Infinite Duel, but that was only possible because several conditions had aligned. It would be impossible to face future enemies without wings. Absolutely impossible.
But…
“Your sense for feeling Mana is fine. However, your physical capabilities are severely lacking. You cannot execute with your body what you envision in your mind. It’s at a level where I feel bad even calling you a dullard.”
As expected, I had no talent.
[If you told me this body reached its current state by forcibly growing after devouring Orc blades, I’d do a backflip out of pure shock.]
“Please… don’t… add insult to injury.”
[Shall I personally perform that backflip for you? Since I have no physical body, I could easily spin a hundred times over your head.]
“Please…”
Seol-yoon had broken through the wall and spread her wings simply by envisioning the sword she desired and practicing. But that was only possible because she was a once-in-a-generation genius. I am not a genius. I’m not even ordinary. I am a dullard.
“Right now, you have grasped the clue to becoming a Sword Runner. The Mystery you will bloom is in the form of flame. A flame has already ignited within you, Young Master Arhan. You simply haven’t been able to wield it yet. The moment you awaken the sensation of wielding the Mana spread throughout your body and find the thread, your wings will bloom. The problem is simply that your senses are far too dull.”
“…”
“Haha, perhaps Goddess Lefri placed a restriction on the Caravan blood flowing through your veins for the sake of fairness. To devour steel and become one with its soul—isn’t that far too powerful an ability? Theoretically, if you devoured every sword in the world, you could perform every swordsmanship in existence… Well, considering that, I think this curse—ah, I misspoke. I think this restriction is a small price to pay.”
At Tom’s words, Liam burst into laughter.
[That fellow isn’t even hiding his true thoughts anymore! My young descendant, he looked at your body and called it a curse.]
“…”
[When did a curse ever appear in the blood of Steel? To think there was a curse even I, the first ancestor, didn’t know about. What is the name of this curse? The World’s Greatest Dullard? The Slug? The Trash Body?]
“Shut up, please.”
[What must be done to break your curse? Since the witch is here, why not ask her? Tell her you’ve been cursed with an inability to move your body properly and ask if she can lift it.]
“Ugh.”
Every single word Liam said was grating on my nerves.
Damn it, a curse?
What was even more irritating was that Tom seemed to genuinely believe there was a curse or restriction on the blood of Steel. His expression was so pure that I couldn’t bring myself to say, “I’m just a moron who’s bad at this, haha.”
“Looking at your movements, what’s important right now isn’t growing the flame within or increasing your physical level. It seems crucial to melt the ignited flame into your body and forge your Mana into the appropriate shape through that flame. Just like putting steel into a blast furnace and heating it to forge it into the desired shape.”
“I see.”
“To do that, you need guided training. Usually, the role of guided training is handled by a master or a highly talented disciple. But looking at your current state, I think I’m a bit too lacking to guide you through this.”
Tom was an excellent teacher.
He was much easier to understand than Liam, who only spoke in riddles. How much easier was it when he gave concrete examples? He seemed like a much better master than Liam, who only made me suffer by telling me to hammer my body or jump into trials. After a moment of thoughtful silence, Tom spoke.
“The Black Bride. Isn’t the Black Bride in this village?”
“I’ll try asking her.”
“Yes. I believe she could be of great help. Isn’t she the complete opposite of you? If you are the world’s greatest dullard, she is a heaven-sent genius… Ah, another slip of the tongue!”
“…”
“You also, uh, well. You… have a kind heart. Hahaha!”
Tom was a wonderful old man who simply didn’t know how to lie.
My heart was covered in wounds. Liam was now literally doing backflips over my head to mock me. For someone several hundred years old, he was excessively spiteful. Trying my best to ignore him, I spoke to Tom.
“Tom, I have something to tell you.”
“Something to tell me?”
“I don’t know if I mentioned this, but the Iron Prince said he would soon stir up a vortex. A vortex that will engulf the entire continent.”
“That… is terrifying. If it’s the Iron Prince, it sounds like something he would actually do, and he certainly has the power to do it.”
“Yes. And he said he would drag me into that vortex. I don’t know what he’s planning, but he said he’d make sure I’m swept up in it too.”
At my words, Tom frowned.
“That’s scarier than any death threat.”
“Yes. Honestly, I’m scared. That’s why I’m warning you in advance. I don’t know when it will start, but a vortex will soon descend upon me. If you’re near me, you might get swept up too. So, while I appreciate your help, please don’t stay here too long. It’s dangerous.”
“Haha, dangerous, you say.”
Tom laughed kindly at my words.
“Don’t worry, Young Master. Until you become a Sword Runner, I will protect you, even if I have to extend my vacation. I don’t know what kind of eccentricity the Iron Prince will pull, but this old man isn’t exactly a pushover either. No matter what kind of vortex blows through, I can be a wall to ensure you aren’t hurt. So, don’t worry needlessly and focus on your training.”
Those were reassuring words.
Well, of course.
Tom was a “Sword Expert,” after all.
“Unless a Swordmaster himself makes an appearance, no one will be able to hurt you, haha.”
They were dependable words.
We both looked at each other and laughed.
Yes.
“Hahahaha!”
We laughed, having no idea what kind of “vortex” was about to blow in.
*
The Steel Empire, Chervil.
The largest and greatest city in the land where the logic of power was the only order.
The capital.
The Iron Prince had returned to the Blade City, “Czerny.”
Unlike other nobles who moved with scores of knights, guards, and servants, the Iron Prince’s procession was modest, as it always was. The most noble young man in the Iron Kingdom was accompanied by only a single guard. Nevertheless, no one on the street dared to lift their head. They pressed their foreheads against the ground, kept their mouths tightly shut, and found it difficult even to breathe.
“Hmm.”
The Iron Prince, Ian Chervil, murmured as he watched the scene.
“This city really is boring.”
As his ash-gray hair fluttered, the scent of iron wafted around him. With narrowed eyes, Ian Chervil looked at the city walls visible beyond the Iron Palace—walls that rose sharply like blades. Instead of glancing at the subjects bowing their heads, he was staring at those walls.
“I must personally bring some entertainment as soon as possible, so that everyone can laugh joyfully.”
More accurately, he was looking far beyond the walls.
“Truly, as soon as possible…”
