Chapter 110: Broken Sword
Outside the training ground of Dawn Castle, in the pavilion.
Shiron, sipping tea, gazed at the center of the training ground.
There, Lucia lay beside her broken sword, her eyes vacant. The white snow ensured her clothes remained dirt-free, but he worried she might catch a cold in such cold weather.
What are you doing there?
Siriel sat next to Shiron and asked.
Its cold today.
Lucia seems broken.
Broken?
Siriel, not knowing the full story, couldnt grasp what her brother was talking about. Instead of explaining, Shiron put down his teacup and stood up.
Walking to the center of the training ground where Lucia lay, Shiron looked at her unfocused golden eyes and sighed deeply.
Youll catch a cold like that.
I dont catch colds.
Lucia raised her arm to shield her eyes.
So go away.
Are you that upset about losing to me?
Its not that, so just go away.
Lucia recalled a terrible nightmare. Was today the day she would end up stabbing Shiron in the chest? If so, it would be a fitting prophecy.
Of course, Lucia wasnt the type to resort to violence over a broken sword. She was a bit startled by todays sparring match, but she knew how weak Shiron really was. Perhaps she should actually praise him? After all, there werent many, including Siriel, who could beat the hero Kyrie in a sparring match.
Yet, the shock of her cherished black iron sword breaking was not something to be taken lightly.
Black iron sword. Blackie. Dark Nebula.
Lucia never said these nicknames out loud due to embarrassment, but she had indeed given her sword these pet names. Five years ago, holding hands with Shiron, she had felt a destiny upon arriving at the blacksmith.
The sword fit perfectly even in her small hand. Thick blade. And despite its size, it had a balance that wasnt skewed in any way
Lucia could freely handle any sword, but the black iron sword was special to her.
It was the first thing she had ever owned. The first and last gift she received from Shiron.
But, the one who had given her the gift was so calm about it. Even though Johan was there, Lucia felt a shock, as if their shared memories were being denied.
Feeling a void in her heart, Lucia suddenly sensed a cold touch under her armpit.
What are you doing?
Stay still.
Shiron lifted Lucia effortlessly and shook her, dislodging the snow stuck to her back. Lucia, limp and unresisting, just puffed up her cheeks.
The cold hand between her arm and torso was Shirons way of showing concern. Lucia wasnt so callous as to reject someones kindness.
Holding the dangling Lucia, Shiron approached the pavilion and sat her down on a chair. Siriel, resting her chin on her hand, could now face Lucia.
Hmm
Siriel understood what Shiron meant by broken. Lucias face didnt redden with embarrassment when Shiron put his hand under her armpit.
Then, Shiron belatedly placed the fragments of the black iron sword on the table.
Right. I wanted to ask brother something.
The coming-of-age ceremony is about fighting an apostle, right?
Siriel deliberately asked Shiron, a question she could have asked Glen.
But what exactly is an apostle? The Head of the family and uncle didnt continue, but they looked very serious.
An apostle is a remnant of the Demon God.
Demon God. As this past relic was mentioned, Lucia turned her head towards Shiron.
Shiron, unfazed, continued with a serious face.
Siriel. Youve read fairy tales, right?
The eternal and immortal great saga of the great savior, our ancestor Kyrie, right?
Yes.
At the mention of the fairy tale title, Lucias face reddened slightly. Siriel looked at Shiron, feeling puzzled.
But the fairy tale clearly says Kyrie extended a sword hundreds of meters long to defeat the Demon God. But remnants?
Right. I Kyrie did defeat it.
Lucia spoke hesitantly, her voice unsure.
The Demon God is not yet dead. Theres definite proof of that.
Evidence?
Ill show you.
Shiron, with a solemn face, pulled out a piece of black glass from his pocket.
[Fragment of a Peculiar God]
The object, obtained from killing cultists, emitted an aura of magic as potent as that of a maid serving at their side.
Do you feel anything?
I feel a dreadful and disgusting magic.
Dorothy, the maid who was serving nearby, answered in place of Shiron. She felt something that could be the remnants of the cursed Demon God she had once followed.
Shiron put the black fragment back into his pocket.
The Demon God blesses demons, beasts, and even humans indiscriminately with its peculiar power. Those who receive this power wield it without any repercussions.
Are those blessed by it the apostles?
No.
Shiron shook his head in response to Lucias question, sifting through old memories.
Just receiving the Demon Gods blessing didnt make one an apostle.
Those who were promised eternity. Those who can hear the voice of God. Those who conspired to resurrect the Demon God.
Many terms came to mind, each one too embarrassing to say out loud. Shiron decided to share his recent impressions of an apostle instead.
Among those blessed, the ones who brag unusually. Those who spout nonsense about being chosen by God or hearing voices.
Meanwhile, beyond the snow-covered mountains, near a bubbling volcano.
A woman, driven solely by vengeance, sighed deeply.
The Giants Forge.
Originally a place to visit after the coming-of-age ceremony, but at Shirons request, Yuma crossed the mountain range and braved the blizzard bare-bodied.
The young master said he needed a sword.
The one-horned woman, clutching her tingling chest, knocked on the massive iron door.
Thump- Thump- Thump-
Three knocks. And precisely three seconds later.
A heavy sound echoed as the iron doors parted, releasing a wave of hot air.
Woosh-
Yuma, squinting against the intense heat, opened her eyes slowly as the wind died down.
And then,
Yumas eyes met those of a fairy floating in the air.
Faded hair. Clothes like tattered rags. Her appearance was unremarkable, but a terrible scar over one eye made her stand out.
One-eyed Dolby. The person Yuma was looking for.
I need a sword. Just one.
Yuma, without any formal greetings, stated her business to the fairy. They werent acquaintances for just a day or two. Having known each other for over 500 years, Yuma skipped unnecessary pleasantries.
A good quality sword. One that can channel mana well. A sword that will never break.
Come in.
Dolby, looking blankly at the sweating Yuma, gestured for her to enter.
Unlike Yuma, who was dripping with sweat, Dolby seemed unfazed by the intense heat.
Excuse me.
Yuma followed the fairy, volunteering as her guide.
Grinding-
With the rising heat, Yuma felt the tremor under her feet. Eventually, the fairys guidance came to a halt at a certain point.
A giant human figure filled her view.
Atmos. Yuma has arrived.
The giant, with a refreshing voice, turned his massive body around.
The giant, whose entire lower jaw was covered in steel, silently bent down to look at the one-horned woman.
To communicate, Atmos had to place his hand on the ground.
500 years ago, someone had shattered his lower jaw, making it a bit cumbersome for him to convey his thoughts.
[Yuma. Why are you here?]
The entire forge resonated with Atmoss voice.
[The coming-of-age ceremony hasnt even happened yet.]
I have no other reason to be here. As I told Dolby, I came for a sword.
[I cannot give you one. Leave.]
Atmos turned away, and Dolby shrugged her shoulders.
He says to leave.
Yuma blankly stared at the giants back, then took out a handkerchief from her pocket. It was the one Shiron had handed to her seven years ago when she was in tears.
Wiping the sweat off her chin, Yuma steeled her resolve.
I cant go back empty-handed.
The coming-of-age ceremony was less than a week away, and a day had already passed since the young masters request.
Yuma glared at the giants back.
Since when has the coming-of-age ceremony been so important? You forge weapons, and I train heroes. Wasnt that our agreement from the start?
Even after Yumas sharp retort, Atmos remained silent, just staring blankly at the boiling lava.
Yuma sighed with a throbbing headache.
Atmos. If you keep being stubborn, I have other ideas.
Yuma reached out to the fairy floating nearby. An ice-cold frost extended from her fingertips, forming into a sharp icicle.
Yuma?
Dolby stared blankly at the tip of the ice icicle.
Was she using magic to cool down? Yuma had been sweating excessively even before entering the forge. Shed probably press the ice against her cheeks.
But even while thinking this, the ice icicle remained pointed at Dolby.
Yuma placed the soaked handkerchief back in her pocket.
Atmos. I knew you were dense, but to choose pride over your lovers life
[Enough.]
Atmos cut Yuma off mid-sentence. When he turned around, his face was twisted like a demons.
[Yuma. Have you lost your mind?]
Im not crazy. Ive always been this kind of woman, havent I?
Yuma approached Dolby with a sly grin, then grabbed the small fairy with one hand and thrust the icicle at her throat.
The distorted face of the giant turned pale.
[If Dolby dies, no weapons can be forged. Do you understand the futility of your threat?]
If Dolby dies, I can cast the magic instead. Im better at magic.
What are you doing! Hurry up and bring the sword!
Dolby, terrified, screamed at the giant.
Look at her eyes, theyre fierce! Kyaaak! Its cold! Something cold is touching my throat!
[Take it.]
Chrrk-
Swords rained down from the sky. Only then did Yuma release her magic.
However, she had no intention of letting the fairy go.
Dolby. Youll have to come with me.
[This wasnt the agreement.]
When did I say Id let go? If I back down now Hmm. Its a precaution for any eventuality.
Yuma drew the sword with a soft smile.
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