Chapter 116: Self-Realization
Eyes like ice, a withered expression. Strangely braided hair fell roughly around his face.
Lucia immediately recognized the giant bursting through the door, despite half his face being covered with a metal plate that made him hard to identify at first glance.
Atmos of the Mountains.
‘So, this guy was also alive.’
It was 500 years ago.
Many demons had gained fame under the name of a peculiar god, but Atmos, along with Yuma, had literally been the terror that devoured the allied forces.
Just when countless sacrifices had been made and victory seemed within reach…
The ground shook.
Humans, their faces filled with despair, looked toward the horizon. There, a legion of giants carrying huge axes approached.
Thud- Thud- Thud- As Lucia remembered, it was a colossal terror that seemed to shake not just the earth but the heavens themselves.
As the giant legion drew closer, the morale of the humans plummeted tragically. Atmos, leading the giants, knew the psychology of humans well and deliberately stamped his feet with internal power to instill fear.
Humans felt the victory that had once been close slipping away.
No matter how much they surrounded themselves with sword energy and emitted sword auras, they couldn’t cut through the mana-strengthened skin of the giants.
No matter how much they used protective energy, they couldn’t withstand the weight of the giants’ massive axes.
Thus, the lives of humans, who were someone’s father or lover, were lost in vain.
However, Kyrie never blamed him for it. She didn’t criticize him for being cruel or cunning despite being a giant. In war, it was kill or be killed.
Instead, she resolved it in her own way.
‘Let’s have a go, you bastard.’
‘Kahaha.’
Back then, not many knew Kyrie’s name, so Atmos had no choice but to laugh at such a brazen human.
‘…Laughing?’
When Atmos laughed mockingly, Kyrie stomped the ground. And then… her fist shot out like a cannonball and shattered the giant’s jaw.
‘You bastard. You’re a worthless piece of crap, acting all high and mighty when you’re nothing but worth a punch.’
‘Ugh… Ughhhh…’
Kyrie considered finishing him off as he glared with his shattered jaw, but Yura suggested that leaving him alive with an unhealable scar might be better for lowering the enemy’s morale.
[Why… Why are you doing this to me?]
Five hundred years later, Lucia couldn’t find the brave figure in the giant who still glared despite his broken jaw. Atmos, kneeling with his hands on the ground, looked like a defeated soldier surrendering to the enemy.
[Did I do something wrong? Yuma, say something, will you!]
Lucia looked at Atmos with a disapproving expression. How could there not be a problem? She remembered clearly the sin of devouring humans to crush the morale of the allied forces.
“Why do you weep so sorrowfully?”
Yuma asked, holding Dolby in one hand.
“It’s because no matter how much you knock, he won’t come out.”
[What are you talking about? I went out as soon as I heard the knocking.]
Shiron snorted at Atmos’s protest.
“What nonsense. I knocked dozens of times.”
“…That’s why I said I would go and call him.”
Dolby, now accustomed to being held in Yuma’s hand, spoke up without hesitation.
“Atmos has bad hearing, so I usually have to open the door for him.”
“Dolby, that’s ridiculous. Who in the world would release a hostage?”
“…”
“Ahem. Let’s set aside this pointless talk.”
Shiron cleared his throat briefly and chose his words carefully.
“I’ve come to negotiate, Atmos.”
[Negotiate? Not a threat? Holding hostages and talking about negotiations?]
“Give me two swords, and I’ll release the hostages.”
Though his conscience pricked him, Shiron made his demand nonchalantly.
[There are many swords I’ve made, so take them quickly. And don’t come back.]
With a hint of reluctance, Atmos produced a pile of swords in front of Shiron. Shiron rummaged through the mountain of swords and picked out two.
[Fairy’s Rapier]
[Fairy’s Gladius]
“Tch.”
Shiron flung the drawn sword to the ground, eliciting wide-eyed surprise from Atmos.
[…What are you doing?]
“Look here. Who would bother coming all this way for such a shoddy weapon?”
[What?]
“Shoddy?”
Both Shiron’s outburst and the sight of the thrown sword surprised Lucia. She looked down at the ivory-colored sword in her hand.
‘Is such a good sword really a shoddy weapon?’
“It seems you don’t quite grasp the situation. Don’t worry, I’ll make you understand soon, Lucia.”
“Uh, okay?
Startled, Lucia turned her head. In Shiron’s hand was the white sword. She had a bad feeling about this.
Shiron, gripping the holy sword tightly, extended it toward Lucia.
“Try cutting with this.”
“Okay.”
Lucia quickly grasped the situation. She struck the holy sword with the unadorned ivory-colored sword.
Clang-
With a clear sound, the Fairy’s Longsword snapped cleanly in two.
“See? It’s defective. Is this how you do business?”
“…”
The giant was speechless, looking at the blade fragments on the ground. Defective? Impossible. He had made over a thousand swords, but Atmos never crafted a weapon carelessly.
Atmos stared intently at the white sword in Shiron’s hand. Despite being struck by the Fairy’s Longsword, his sword was unscathed.
“Bring out a proper weapon, not this inferior one.”
Atmos realized what Shiron wanted.
[It seems you desire a weapon forged from the stars.]
“Yes, that grand one.”
[Have you earned the right? I haven’t heard of Glen Prient’s death yet.]
The Star Sword was a weapon given only to the head of the family. Crafting it was labor-intensive, and Atmos awarded it only to those who proved their worth.
“I’ve earned it long ago. I’ve already killed two.”
Expecting him to be stubborn, Shiron was pleased with the quick progress of the conversation. He pulled out two black beads from his pocket.
While waiting for the sword to be made, tents were erected near the forge.
That night…
Lucia couldn’t sleep at all.
It wasn’t the noise leaking from the forge that kept her awake, but the sheer number of events she had experienced during the day.
‘Was it the Apostle?’
The fight with the Red Knight had been a proper battle for Lucia, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
The battles she had fought so far were mostly against third-rate swordsmen who couldn’t withstand a single exchange or against beasts lacking intellect. Once again, Lucia realized her own extraordinariness.
Even at the academy, things were no different. What did it matter that it was said to gather the greatest talents of the continent? Even the most brilliant prodigies lacked experience, and Lucia, with memories of her past life, looked down on their deficiencies from a higher place.
A flawless body. Boundless mana. Memories of countless battlefields. Lucia Prient was more special than anyone in the world.
Even more so than Siriel.
As long as Lucia was by her side, Siriel would never be special.
Siriel was aware of it. How could she not be, knowing that her abilities fell short of Lucia’s?
She had known it painfully since childhood.
During hundreds, thousands of sparring sessions, the number of times Siriel had defeated Lucia was merely in the single digits.
Even those victories weren’t purely due to her skills. Among the daily sparrings, there were certainly days when Lucia wasn’t in good condition. How could victories on such days be considered decisive?
Lucia said it was her fault for not managing her condition, but Siriel didn’t think so.
Instead, she only became more aware of her shortcomings, feeling a surge of unpleasant emotions.
‘…What’s this?’
Siriel felt a strange sensation.
She was floating, drifting somewhere. There was no clarity in what she saw, heard, or felt.
‘A dream?’
No, this was different from a dream.
Unlike the usual dreams, there was a strong sense of alienation.
It wasn’t a lucid dream.
Siriel could only look forward in a space bathed in brilliant light.
In front, she saw the special back of her friend Lucia.
And there, in front of her, stood Shiron, the person Siriel held dearer than anyone else.
In the center was Lucia, but Siriel’s consciousness zeroed in on Shiron. Her brother’s face was resigned, almost vacant.
Abruptly, Lucia leveled a sword at her brother. His face was hidden, yet his trembling hands betrayed his fear. Shaking, Lucia plunged the sword into her brother.
“…No.”
“…Siriel, are you returning to consciousness?”
Glen regarded Siriel with a concerned expression. His niece, who had been in a deep slumber since her return to Dawn Castle, had at last opened her eyes.
Through her narrow field of vision, Siriel could see Glen’s face, blurry as though seen through a gauzy veil.
“…Uncle?”
“Yes, it’s your uncle.”
Glen helped Siriel as she attempted to sit up in bed. She was soaked in a cold sweat, as if she had been tormented by a nightmare in her sleep.
“Where am I…”
Siriel looked around with a vacant gaze. An antiquated room. The chill in the air. This was Dawn Castle, where her brother and Lucia had spent their childhood.
Suddenly, Siriel’s eyes snapped wide open.
“Uncle, what about the others?”
“Don’t you recall? We arrived here ahead of the others because we had a place we needed to visit.”
Glen passed a small bell to Siriel.
“The servants haven’t come back yet, so if you require anything, ring this bell.”
Having said that, Glen rose to his feet. There was much to attend to since this was his return to the castle after a long absence, and he found the prospect of staying alone with a young girl in her sensitive years somewhat awkward, so he was eager to leave the room as soon as possible.contemporary romance
Click-
And so, the room, too large for a single occupant, was shrouded in silence. The only sounds were Siriel’s breaths and the beating of her heart.
Perhaps it was the lingering effect of the unsettling dream, but Siriel was overwhelmed by a profound sense of solitude.
done.co