‘This…’
"Do you still remember the promise I made when we were last here?"
Kishiar approached the starting point of the wall, placing his hand on the ancient stone and looked back. The night wind brushed his now light brown hair, making it dance before vanishing. The sight felt as distant as a dream.
Yuder stared blankly at Kishiar's smile and gave a slight nod.
"…Yes."
When they had previously visited this place, Yuder had asked whether Kishiar had left any sword marks amongst the many etched on the wall. Although no one had surpassed the long mark left by the First Emperor, Yuder thought that maybe Kishiar could.
Back then, Kishiar had laughed and said he was overestimating him, but promised that he would try it some other time. He had intended to show it after the relationship between him and the divine sword was made public, but they were already in the west when the new owner of the divine sword was announced, making it impossible to keep the promise.
"I wanted to show you as soon as we returned. I’m glad I can now."
And now, he was reaffirming that promise.
Yuder had been curious all this while what sort of mark Kishiar would have left, but he had half-forgotten about it due to numerous other events. Yet, Kishiar had not forgotten that small conversation from back then. This realization struck Yuder as profoundly surprising.
The meaning of that small promise still occupying space in Kishiar’s memory, despite his mind being filled with so much other information, gave Yuder a newfound sense of certainty that sent shivers down his spine.
Yuder looked at Kishiar's smiling face and slowly opened his mouth.
"Is it possible... even without a sword?"
"A sword? Who said anything about not having one?"
Grinning, Kishiar surveyed the surroundings. Seeming to discover something in the darkness, he muttered, "Ah, there it is," and soon returned from a nearby thicket with something in hand.
It was a discarded wooden stick.
"Do you know that after the announcement that someone had become the new owner of the divine sword, challengers to this wall suddenly increased? Some people seemed to think it was a rather stylish form of protest, but it caused headaches for the capital's security forces who had to clean up these broken wooden swords."
Hardly anyone would retrieve a broken wooden sword after using it. Kishiar whispered as if telling someone else’s story. Although the reaction had not been positive after Kishiar was announced as the owner of the divine sword, he hadn’t known that it had led to such a situation.
‘That’s unbelievable,’ thought Yuder as he took a closer look at the wooden stick Kishiar held. The discarded stick was so poorly carved that the handle and the blade seemed indistinguishable. The end was broken and frayed.
Kishiar lightly held the stick, resembling more a club than a sword, and swung it around a few times with a refreshing smile.
"There, now we have a sword. No problem, right?"
"Are you really going to do it with that?"
"Yes. This should be enough."
While he spoke as if joking, Kishiar’s eyes did not betray any signs of jest. He was serious.
Yuder had often heard the saying that a true swordmaster doesn’t choose their weapon. He had even seen a foreign swordmaster in a previous life who had picked up a broken blade, cloaked it in sword energy, and charged back into the fight.
Even so, the shattered black sword was hardly a sword at all, and the stick in question didn't even qualify as a wooden sword. There was doubt as to whether such a child's toy could withstand Kishiar's sword energy.
‘It would be fortunate enough if it doesn't explode.’
Though thankfully no one was around, if the stick couldn't withstand the sword energy and did explode, the first to bear the consequences would be Kishiar himself.
Unaware that Yuder was gearing up to unleash his power at any moment, Kishiar casually slung the stick over his shoulder. Scanning the countless sword marks etched into the wall, he walked with the leisure of a predator finding its ideal spot. No sign of worry or anxiety could be discerned in his gait.
"This should be a good spot."
Where he stood was far enough from the wall to take in all the sword marks at a glance. Most eye-catching among them was 'The Emperor's Sword Mark,' the very reason the wall existed in the first place.
Stretching from one end of the wall to the other, the mark was so long that dozens of people would have to hold hands to span its length. Though it had dulled and corroded over the passing millennium, it still offered an overwhelming sense of awe to those who beheld it.
Gazing at the mark so enormous it defied belief that a single sword could have created it, Kishiar suddenly spoke.
"Yuder."
"Yes."
"Do you know why the First Emperor left this mark?"
"I do not."
"During the construction of the capital, Archmage Luma, who directed the entire process, declared that he would leave upon completing the final wall. He actually packed and prepared to leave. However, the Emperor and Empress found out and caught up with him."
Kishiar's sword hand was rock-steady.
"The Emperor sliced through the nearly completed city wall with his sword, blocking the Archmage's path. Thanks to this, the Archmage had to abandon his departure and return. In other words, The Emperor's Sword Mark is…"
His voice gradually lowered, and a soft yet intense energy emanated from behind him.
"A testament to desperation."
A testament so desperate that nothing else mattered, neither front nor back, nor the surrounding area.
A blue aura began to flow like a stream down Kishiar's hands, tightly enveloping the wooden stick. The aura continued to intensify, eventually surging higher than the stick itself.
In a world where countless people have died unable to handle even a wisp of sword aura, such a bright and distinct aura was extraordinary.
Amazingly, the stick he held neither exploded nor wavered. Yuder's entire body reacted to the aura, every hair standing on end. The spectacle was so overwhelming that it was difficult even to breathe.
"...Now, shall we test just how desperate I am?"
Kishiar slowly lifted the wooden sword and, exhaling deeply, changed its direction sideways. To any trained eye, it was an unassailable, textbook-perfect ready stance.
It may have looked simple and easy, but Yuder knew how immensely challenging it actually was.
Among all those learning the sword, perhaps one in ten could train consistently every day without stopping. And among them, finding someone who could maintain a flawless, textbook-perfect stance, without the slightest deviation, for even an hour was a one-in-a-thousand occurrence.
It was a beauty that could only be achieved through relentless practice, not innate talent.
That beauty stood like a shadow behind Kishiar La Orr.
How much had he practiced? How many hours had he endured to reach this level, only to suppress it again so that no one would know? The weight of it was so heavy that it was impossible to even guess by looking; it compelled the eye to remain fixated.
And finally, Kishiar took a deep breath, gripping his wooden sword tightly. His arm moved, the broken tip of the wooden sword cleaved the air horizontally, and following it, a silent azure sword aura illuminated the darkness...
"..."
The blue light gently covered the ancient wall's ruins like moonlight.
After the sharp yet soft light cut through the wall and disappeared, Yuder saw a new sword mark left just above the Emperor's in the trembling earth.
At a glance, it was strikingly similar to the Emperor's sword mark—a tremendously long trace clearly covering the wall.
Words could not capture the sensation that made his fingers and toes tremble minutely. Kishiar, his wooden sword now sheathed, simply looked at the sword mark he had left in silence.
Since there was no momentary sharing of emotions like when their bodies had intertwined, Yuder couldn't know what Kishiar was feeling right then. Yet there was no regret in not knowing.
It was enough just to have seen this moment, to have watched Kishiar La Orr.
With a sigh, he exhaled the breath he had been holding, tinged with emotion. Reacting to the sound, Kishiar turned his head. The moment their eyes met, he smiled with an almost boyish face.
"…The surroundings are getting noisy. Shall we run?"
As he said, a small disturbance was indeed unfolding around them as the anomaly was detected. Yuder wordlessly took the hand Kishiar offered. With a smile, Kishiar gripped his hand and they ran.
‘This…’
"Do you still remember the promise I made when we were last here?"
Kishiar approached the starting point of the wall, placing his hand on the ancient stone and looked back. The night wind brushed his now light brown hair, making it dance before vanishing. The sight felt as distant as a dream.
Yuder stared blankly at Kishiar's smile and gave a slight nod.
"…Yes."
When they had previously visited this place, Yuder had asked whether Kishiar had left any sword marks amongst the many etched on the wall. Although no one had surpassed the long mark left by the First Emperor, Yuder thought that maybe Kishiar could.
Back then, Kishiar had laughed and said he was overestimating him, but promised that he would try it some other time. He had intended to show it after the relationship between him and the divine sword was made public, but they were already in the west when the new owner of the divine sword was announced, making it impossible to keep the promise.
"I wanted to show you as soon as we returned. I’m glad I can now."
And now, he was reaffirming that promise.
Yuder had been curious all this while what sort of mark Kishiar would have left, but he had half-forgotten about it due to numerous other events. Yet, Kishiar had not forgotten that small conversation from back then. This realization struck Yuder as profoundly surprising.
The meaning of that small promise still occupying space in Kishiar’s memory, despite his mind being filled with so much other information, gave Yuder a newfound sense of certainty that sent shivers down his spine.
Yuder looked at Kishiar's smiling face and slowly opened his mouth.
"Is it possible... even without a sword?"
"A sword? Who said anything about not having one?"
Grinning, Kishiar surveyed the surroundings. Seeming to discover something in the darkness, he muttered, "Ah, there it is," and soon returned from a nearby thicket with something in hand.
It was a discarded wooden stick.
"Do you know that after the announcement that someone had become the new owner of the divine sword, challengers to this wall suddenly increased? Some people seemed to think it was a rather stylish form of protest, but it caused headaches for the capital's security forces who had to clean up these broken wooden swords."
Hardly anyone would retrieve a broken wooden sword after using it. Kishiar whispered as if telling someone else’s story. Although the reaction had not been positive after Kishiar was announced as the owner of the divine sword, he hadn’t known that it had led to such a situation.
‘That’s unbelievable,’ thought Yuder as he took a closer look at the wooden stick Kishiar held. The discarded stick was so poorly carved that the handle and the blade seemed indistinguishable. The end was broken and frayed.
Kishiar lightly held the stick, resembling more a club than a sword, and swung it around a few times with a refreshing smile.
"There, now we have a sword. No problem, right?"
"Are you really going to do it with that?"
"Yes. This should be enough."
While he spoke as if joking, Kishiar’s eyes did not betray any signs of jest. He was serious.
Yuder had often heard the saying that a true swordmaster doesn’t choose their weapon. He had even seen a foreign swordmaster in a previous life who had picked up a broken blade, cloaked it in sword energy, and charged back into the fight.
Even so, the shattered black sword was hardly a sword at all, and the stick in question didn't even qualify as a wooden sword. There was doubt as to whether such a child's toy could withstand Kishiar's sword energy.
‘It would be fortunate enough if it doesn't explode.’
Though thankfully no one was around, if the stick couldn't withstand the sword energy and did explode, the first to bear the consequences would be Kishiar himself.
Unaware that Yuder was gearing up to unleash his power at any moment, Kishiar casually slung the stick over his shoulder. Scanning the countless sword marks etched into the wall, he walked with the leisure of a predator finding its ideal spot. No sign of worry or anxiety could be discerned in his gait.
"This should be a good spot."
Where he stood was far enough from the wall to take in all the sword marks at a glance. Most eye-catching among them was 'The Emperor's Sword Mark,' the very reason the wall existed in the first place.
Stretching from one end of the wall to the other, the mark was so long that dozens of people would have to hold hands to span its length. Though it had dulled and corroded over the passing millennium, it still offered an overwhelming sense of awe to those who beheld it.
Gazing at the mark so enormous it defied belief that a single sword could have created it, Kishiar suddenly spoke.
"Yuder."
"Yes."
"Do you know why the First Emperor left this mark?"
"I do not."
"During the construction of the capital, Archmage Luma, who directed the entire process, declared that he would leave upon completing the final wall. He actually packed and prepared to leave. However, the Emperor and Empress found out and caught up with him."
Kishiar's sword hand was rock-steady.
"The Emperor sliced through the nearly completed city wall with his sword, blocking the Archmage's path. Thanks to this, the Archmage had to abandon his departure and return. In other words, The Emperor's Sword Mark is…"
His voice gradually lowered, and a soft yet intense energy emanated from behind him.
"A testament to desperation."
A testament so desperate that nothing else mattered, neither front nor back, nor the surrounding area.
A blue aura began to flow like a stream down Kishiar's hands, tightly enveloping the wooden stick. The aura continued to intensify, eventually surging higher than the stick itself.
In a world where countless people have died unable to handle even a wisp of sword aura, such a bright and distinct aura was extraordinary.
Amazingly, the stick he held neither exploded nor wavered. Yuder's entire body reacted to the aura, every hair standing on end. The spectacle was so overwhelming that it was difficult even to breathe.
"...Now, shall we test just how desperate I am?"
Kishiar slowly lifted the wooden sword and, exhaling deeply, changed its direction sideways. To any trained eye, it was an unassailable, textbook-perfect ready stance.
It may have looked simple and easy, but Yuder knew how immensely challenging it actually was.
Among all those learning the sword, perhaps one in ten could train consistently every day without stopping. And among them, finding someone who could maintain a flawless, textbook-perfect stance, without the slightest deviation, for even an hour was a one-in-a-thousand occurrence.
It was a beauty that could only be achieved through relentless practice, not innate talent.
That beauty stood like a shadow behind Kishiar La Orr.
How much had he practiced? How many hours had he endured to reach this level, only to suppress it again so that no one would know? The weight of it was so heavy that it was impossible to even guess by looking; it compelled the eye to remain fixated.
And finally, Kishiar took a deep breath, gripping his wooden sword tightly. His arm moved, the broken tip of the wooden sword cleaved the air horizontally, and following it, a silent azure sword aura illuminated the darkness...
"..."
The blue light gently covered the ancient wall's ruins like moonlight.
After the sharp yet soft light cut through the wall and disappeared, Yuder saw a new sword mark left just above the Emperor's in the trembling earth.
At a glance, it was strikingly similar to the Emperor's sword mark—a tremendously long trace clearly covering the wall.
Words could not capture the sensation that made his fingers and toes tremble minutely. Kishiar, his wooden sword now sheathed, simply looked at the sword mark he had left in silence.
Since there was no momentary sharing of emotions like when their bodies had intertwined, Yuder couldn't know what Kishiar was feeling right then. Yet there was no regret in not knowing.
It was enough just to have seen this moment, to have watched Kishiar La Orr.
With a sigh, he exhaled the breath he had been holding, tinged with emotion. Reacting to the sound, Kishiar turned his head. The moment their eyes met, he smiled with an almost boyish face.
"…The surroundings are getting noisy. Shall we run?"
As he said, a small disturbance was indeed unfolding around them as the anomaly was detected. Yuder wordlessly took the hand Kishiar offered. With a smile, Kishiar gripped his hand and they ran.
