Star-Embracing Swordmaster — Chapter 216: In the Continuous Flow (1)

Chapter 216: In the Continuous Flow (1)

According⁠ to an ancient tradition, it was‍ said that the‌ sword was a bright silver color.⁠‌‌

It‌ was said to‍⁠ have a will‌‌ of its own,⁠ choosing its owner and revealing its⁠ intentions through its‌ vibration.

Vum-vum-vum.‍

Like⁠⁠‍ the sword that⁠ was now approaching‍‍‍ me.

Clang!‍⁠

The‌‍⁠ winter ground could⁠ not withstand the pressure created by‍‍‌ the swords and began to stir‍ up a storm‍ of dust.

However,⁠‌‌ Rodrigo, despite the⁠‍ blurred vision, could‌ not take his⁠ eyes off the‌ silver sword that⁠‍‍ clashed with his own.

‘…It⁠‌ can’t be!’

The‍‍ sword was crying.‍

Along⁠‌ with the pure⁠⁠‌ silver coins he had kept in⁠‌ his chest.

Rodrigo⁠ felt the vibration of the coins‍‍⁠ inside his armor⁠⁠ and could not⁠‌ hide his surprise.⁠⁠

“Vlad‌⁠‌ Dragulia! Where the‌‌ hell did you‍ learn the imperial‍ sword?”

“…”

Rodrigo’s⁠ question about Vlad’s‌ origins was loud,‌ but the person⁠ who really asked⁠ the question simply‍ hid his body⁠‌ in the cloud⁠⁠ of dust again.⁠‌

The‌⁠ moment the thick‍‌‍ dust swallowed Vlad’s golden light, the‍ knights’ screams began‍⁠ to be heard‌ from the front.‍‌

“Where‍ are you?”

“Cover⁠ your backs! Reduce‍ the blind spots!”‍‌

“Damn‌‌ it! He’s too⁠⁠ fast!”

Bang!‌ Crash! Crack!

A loud sound was‌ heard every time⁠ a solid golden⁠⁠ line was drawn⁠‍ in the blocked‌⁠‌ field of vision.⁠⁠

Each⁠⁠ time that sound‍‌⁠ was heard, the⁠‍ surrounding buildings collapsed‍ without fail, and‌‌‌ the accompanying cloud⁠ of dust began‍‌‍ to obscure the⁠ knights’ eyes.

“…The Imperial Guard should⁠⁠‍ have found him‌ by now.”

The⁠‍ trick to killing⁠ in a single‍‍ blow involves controlling‍ the battlefield.

A chilling voice came‍ from the dust‌‍ storm of the‌⁠ enemies who fought⁠⁠‍ and outnumbered me.‌

“Isn’t the real culprit‌ still walking unscathed‌⁠‍ because of you incompetent bastards?”

Rodrigo‍⁠‍ and his men⁠ were trapped in‍‌ the fog created by their enemy‍ and could not⁠ see properly.

Vlad was more enraged‌‍ by the injustice‌‌‌ done to August‌‌ than by the misunderstanding he was⁠ a victim of.⁠

“Idiots‍ full of blind‌‌‌ spots.”

From⁠ his blue eyes,‌‍ a peculiar look began to form.

August’s‌‍ world was one‌‌‌ that sought the‌ truth hidden in⁠ the shadows.

Even‍ in the dust‌⁠⁠ storm, Vlad’s sharp‍ vision clearly came from the commander‍‌ of the Imperial‍⁠‌ Guard, August.

“…!”‌

With‍⁠ the sword raised,‌⁠ Vlad’s held breath stopped for a moment.

The⁠‌ reason it’s hard‌⁠ to take the‌ first step is‍‌ because I don’t⁠ know where to‌‍ go.

However,‌ there was not‍‌ the slightest hesitation‍‌ in the heavy‌‍ steps Vlad was⁠ taking now.

Because he definitely knew‌⁠ where he had‌ to go.

Swoosh!‌

With⁠ the sound of cutting wind, swords⁠ began to fly‌ toward the knights‌‌ from the dust.‍‌

A sword technique created‍ by a duelist‍‌ who was said‍ to have faced⁠ the most perfect‍⁠ dragon in the‌⁠ past.

However,‌‍‌ the beam of‍‌‍ light approaching the knights was much closer to a circular form.

“Ugh!”⁠

“Aaaah!”

Some‍‍ in the chest,⁠⁠‌ others in the‌‍‍ wrist or the‌ sword.

Following‌ the weak points‍‌ taught by August,‌ lines of blood spread among the‌ knights.

“Do‌ I still look‌ like a criminal‌ after all this?”

The‍ sword skills belonged⁠ to the ancient‍⁠‍ imperial family, and‍ the gaze in‌‍ the blue eyes⁠‍ belonged to the‌‍ commander of the‍ Imperial Guard.

And‍‍ crying along with‍⁠‌ him was a silver sword that⁠‌ shone brightly.

Vum-vum-vum.‍⁠

Even‌‌ amidst the gushing⁠ blood, the Imperial⁠ Guard knights opened‍ their eyes wide.⁠

The‌‌ most legitimate sword⁠‍ of all was‌ passing by them.⁠

“…My‌‌‍ God.”

With Rodrigo’s sigh, the‌‌‌ cloud of dust‍⁠ began to settle.

When⁠ the dust dissipated,‍‌ all that was‍ visible were the‍ Imperial Guard knights⁠ who had frozen‌ into stone statues‌‍‍ and the tip‌‍ of Vlad’s sword‌ passing by them.

“Where‍‌ did you learn⁠‌ the imperial sword?”‌

Vlad‌⁠ wiped away the‍‍‍ dripping blood and⁠‌ raised his sword‍ towards Rodrigo, who⁠‍‌ stood still in‍‌ shock.

“I⁠ learned it from⁠ him.”

The‍ extended tip of‌‌ the sword was‍ sharp, but the‍ direction it pointed‌ was not toward‍ Rodrigo.

It only pointed to⁠ the Imperial Guard⁠ flag waving behind⁠ him.

“From whom?”

With‍‍ Vlad’s answer, the‌ Imperial Guard knights‍ began to fall‌‍ one by one.‌

However,⁠ despite his men⁠‌⁠ collapsing right in‍⁠ front of him,‍‌ Rodrigo had no‌⁠⁠ choice but to‍‌‌ turn his head⁠ to follow the‌ tip of the‌‍‍ sword Vlad was‍⁠ pointing at.

“Flag?”‌

The Imperial Guard flag‍ waving in the⁠‍ wind.

When‍ Rodrigo asked where‍ he learned to use the imperial‍⁠ sword, Vlad simply‍ pointed to the‍ white lightning engraved‍ on the flag.

***‍⁠

“…!”⁠

There was a man‍ moving busily through‍‌‍ the halls of‌ the imperial palace.⁠⁠

Despite⁠ his age, his⁠ steps were surprisingly⁠⁠‍ quick.

However,⁠⁠‍ his caution, aware‌‌‍ of others’ gazes,‌ became evident in‍ his effort to‍ appear calm despite‍‌⁠ his rapid movements.‍‌

“Duke,⁠⁠ may I come‌‍ in for a moment?”

“…Enter.”‌⁠

Armand’s‌ weak voice was⁠ heard from inside.‌

The man, holding a small note, looked‌‍ around to ensure⁠‍ no one was‌ near before entering.‌‍

Now‌‍ that the shadows‌ of dragons filled‌⁠ the palace, every⁠⁠ movement had to‍‍‍ be made with‌⁠‌ caution.

“The⁠ report from Sir‍ Rodrigo, who was⁠⁠⁠ sent on a mission, has arrived.”‍‌

Perhaps because he tried⁠ to hide it while walking, the⁠ man’s voice trembled‌‍⁠ slightly as he entered the room.‌

“Here.”‌

“…Yes.”‍‌⁠

Armand‍ probably could have‍ heard the sound‍ of his follower’s‍ labored breathing.

But‍‌ at that moment,‍⁠ Armand was simply‍ staring at the fireplace light, tilting⁠ his head helplessly,‍ like a dying‌⁠ candle.

“Did⁠‍ he say he avenged August?”

“Duke, that’s not the‍ news.”

Armand’s‍‌ magician, who had‌ run there, placed‍ a note in‍ Armand’s cold hands.‍

“We‌‍ found it, Duke.”‌⁠

“…What?”‍⁠

Armand⁠‍‌ was slowly dying‌‍ like a cooling‍‍ wick, but he‍ opened the note⁠‌‍ he held when he saw the‌⁠ man’s eyes looking‍ at him.

“…!”‍

His‍⁠‍ hands trembled not‌ from old age⁠ but from surprise.⁠⁠

The‌‌ note Armand received‍‌ was the same‌‌ size as the‌‌ note sent by⁠‌ August, the commander of the Imperial‍ Guard.

“…This,‌ now.”

The‍ noble bloodline of the empire had⁠ been broken, and‍‍ the dragon’s fragment‍ had been stolen⁠ by the oldest‌‍ dragon.

That’s⁠ why Armand’s life‍‌ had no meaning,‍ but the note‌‌‍ he held now⁠‍ told him to⁠ burn the last⁠ flame within him.‍⁠

– The white lightning⁠ continues.

No‍‍ one in the‍⁠ imperial palace knew‌ about the end of the founder, Kihano Frausen.

Because,⁠ in his last‍ moment, he had⁠‍ removed the crown‌ and left the‌ palace with a silver sword.

– With the silver‍‌ sword he carried.‌‍

“Oh, oh!”

From‍‌ his aged body,‌⁠ uncontrollable joy emanated.⁠‍⁠

Rodrigo’s⁠ note was the⁠ news Armand had⁠‍ been anxiously waiting⁠ for, almost losing⁠ hope of receiving.‌⁠

“Eh…”‍

Fearing‍ that his shout‌ of joy would⁠ be heard outside,⁠ Armand quickly bit‌‍ his sleeve.

The‍⁠⁠ sigh between his‍⁠‍ clenched lips slightly‌ warmed his cooling‌ heart.

“…Come⁠ closer.”

“Yes,‌‌‌ Duke.”

Armand’s‌ trusted man gladly‌ heeded his careful⁠ call.

This‌ was because Armand’s⁠ eyes, which had‌⁠ regained their vitality,‍ suddenly shone.

“Gather‍ my knights. Slowly.⁠‌ As quietly as‌ possible, without Sarnus‌⁠ knowing.”

“Understood,‍⁠ Duke.”

Armand,⁠ who saw the⁠⁠ follower nod and⁠ leave the room,‌ quickly threw the‍⁠ two notes he⁠ held into the⁠⁠‌ fireplace.

They‍‌ were all the‌ same size, but‍‌ one was wrinkled,⁠ probably because it⁠‍ had been kept‌‌ for a long⁠⁠‍ time.

“Thank‍‍ you, August.”

It‌‌ was a note⁠‍‍ he had been⁠‌ holding to remember⁠ his knight who‌‌ had been with⁠‍ him for a long time, but‌⁠‍ it was no⁠⁠ longer needed.

Because‍‍ his will conveyed‍‍‍ by August was‌⁠ clearly received.

“Thanks to you, I can continue.”

It‌ is said that⁠ the imperial pact‌⁠ that bound the⁠ oldest dragon was⁠⁠ maintained in two⁠‍⁠ ways.

One⁠‍ through blood, the‌‌ other through will.

August,‍ despite being defeated‍ by the Blood⁠⁠ Dragon, never forgot‍ his duty to‍⁠‍ the empire until‌⁠ the very last‌ moment.

***‍‍

“Sh*t!”‍

Bang!‌

It‌ wouldn’t be an‌‌ illusion that the faint sounds of⁠ an animal were‌‌‍ mixed with the‍ voice shouting in exasperation.

Mirshea‌ watched as the table slowly split and quickly grabbed⁠ the wine glass‌‌‍ that was on‌ it.

“That’s‌ why you can’t trust those damn‌ pirates.”

The⁠ letter, thrown with‍‌‌ disdain, had an‍ adorned golden seal.‍⁠

Depending‌ on one’s taste,⁠ the seal might‌ seem overly ornate,‌‌ but it was⁠ clearly imbued with‌ arrogance.

– The dragon piece‍ that was supposed‌ to be delivered to you has been stolen by⁠⁠‍ someone named Vlad.‌‍‌ Perhaps his valiant⁠‍ lineage explains how⁠‍ he managed to‍ defeat the great⁠ dragon so easily.⁠

“To‍‌ top it off,⁠‌ you give the⁠ piece to someone‍⁠ with dragon blood!”‌

Perhaps‌⁠ due to his⁠‍ rejuvenated appearance, the‍ fury of the‌‌ Blood Dragon was⁠‌ palpable.

The⁠ movements of the⁠‍ Blood Dragon, unable‌ to contain his rage, were filled‍ with boiling heat.‌‍

“I⁠‌ was content with⁠‌ obtaining the one⁠⁠ from the Empire,‌ and now this‍⁠ one from the south is causing me problems.”

The‍ barely visible tattoos‍ on Sarnus’ chest⁠ were clearly visible⁠⁠⁠ through his unbuttoned‍ shirt.

Looking‍‍‍ at the thorn-shaped‍⁠ tattoo encircling his‌‍ neck, Mirshea silently‍ picked up the⁠ fallen letter.

“So⁠ now the only‌ pieces left are‍‌ the two from⁠ the north?”

Sarnus⁠ walked towards the‍⁠ window, turned his‍ back, and began‍‍ to stare at‌‍ the northern land‍‌ in the distance.‌‌

“You‍‌ broke it into‌ very small pieces. Founding king.”

Sarnus,⁠ looking out the‌ window, thought of‌‌‍ the most perfect‍⁠⁠ dragon that had⁠⁠ fallen under the‍‌‌ silver knight so‍ many years ago.‌‍

And‍‌ even the image⁠‌ of Kihano, covered‍‌‌ in blood, tearing‌ the most perfect‍ heart that still‌ beat into five⁠⁠‍ pieces.

Sarnus,⁠ the oldest dragon,‌‍ witnessed that legendary‍ moment along with‍⁠ the knights of⁠ the Sword Master,⁠ and is the‍ only living witness.⁠

“What‍ do you think,‌‌ Mirshea? Do you‍‍ still long for‌‍ your father’s arms?”‌⁠

“…I‍ don’t know.”

Sarnus⁠‌ had been a noisy man a moment ago, but⁠ when he turned‍‌ around, his face‍‍ suddenly seemed full⁠ of warmth.

Mirshea‌‌ could only bow‌‌ her head as⁠⁠ she looked at⁠‌‍ her father, who⁠⁠ had many facets‍‌ as the years passed.

“I was curious about‌‍⁠ what it would‍‍ be like to⁠ plant seeds in‍ the mud to⁠ see what possibilities‌⁠⁠ would arise, and‍ look what has‍ grown.”

Surviving⁠‌ longer means having‍ consumed a lot.⁠‌

Sarnus,‍‍‌ who had dreamed‌⁠‍ of the most‌ perfect possibility while⁠‌ harvesting the seeds⁠ he had planted,⁠ realized that now‍⁠ was the time⁠‌ to make his‌⁠ own decision.

“We‌⁠‍ will attack the‌ north. Gather the⁠‍ lords.”

“Understood.”‌⁠

“And‌ also.”

Sarnus’⁠ finger pointed to‌ the wine glass‌ Mirshea was holding.

“Bring⁠‌ me another glass.”⁠

A fine glass containing‍‌ bright red wine.‌‌

The‍⁠ glass Mirshea looked‌ at was full‌⁠ of red drops‌ that had not‍ yet been drunk.⁠

“Yes.”‍

Leaving‍ the room, Mirshea walked down a familiar hallway and‍⁠ opened the hidden‌‌⁠ door to the‌⁠⁠ basement.

The‌‌ smell of dragons floated along with‍⁠ the damp air.‍‌

Mirshea’s‍‍ steps in the‌ darkness, carrying only‍‌ a wine glass⁠⁠‌ and no torch,⁠‍ were simply familiar.‍

“…Ha.”‍