chapter 1
1 – The Hunting Dog, Nazin (1)
Merlin, the magician of the lake.
Always a constellation like a beautiful and serene lake with gentle ripples. Now, that constellation was boiling like water in a pot, as if gone mad.
“Wow, wow, wow…”
She clenched her hot neck tightly.
“What kind of crazy bastard is this?”
Stars listen to human voices.
The well-known fact in the world was slightly different. There was an additional condition.
Stars listen to the voices of those who possess the talent.
Originally, not all human voices reach the stars. Most voices become mere noise, passing by the side of the throne, but only the voices of those who possess the talent can become sentences with meaning rather than noise.
“But even that, I can only hear as a very faint murmur…”
It’s likely to be that way, but why?
Merlin remembered the voice that rang in his ear a while ago. The voice was so clear. It was so distinct that it could understand even the sarcasm beyond the level of sentences with meaning.
A clear voice heard for the first time in hundreds of years.
Truly, the will of someone endowed with the qualities of a hero.
And the will conveyed by that voice was sufficient to make Merlin’s lake, which had been calm, boil. The voice directly denied the achievements of King Arthur, whom Merlin served. Mocking him as the “fortune of the times.”
“Is he really insane?”
Blood vessels appeared in Merlin’s eyes.
Arthur, the protagonist of The Tale of Arthur, was the Seat, the seat with the most believers across the selective Black Continent. There was no one who didn’t know that fact.
But still, to insult Arthur?
And with such absurd words?
Could he be crazy enough to want to die?
Merlin opened his eyes and looked down at the ground. Her gaze could extend wherever the starlight reached. She quickly rolled her eyes in search of the owner of the voice that rang in her ear a while ago.
But she couldn’t seem to find him anywhere.
Did he hide in a place where starlight couldn’t reach?
But it didn’t matter.
If you can hide for a lifetime somewhere, go ahead and hide.
“Just catch my eye.”
With a snap, Merlin bit her fingernail. Her bloodshot eyes moved quickly. As if she wouldn’t miss even the smallest trace.
“I won’t die easily, brat.”
Whether he was a prodigious genius endowed with the qualities of a hero, a disciple cherished by the sword master who serves another Seat, or the envoy of the stars who serves as a missionary, Merlin didn’t care about any of that.
He just wanted to make him pay for insulting his king.
The sorcerer of the lake swore to himself in his constellation. He vowed to find and destroy that arrogant brat.
2.
“Ugh, what’s this?”
I felt a hand on my neck.
Suddenly, the feeling of someone grabbing me from behind was unsettling. It felt like someone had sworn to capture and harm me, looking up at the sky.
“Who could it be?”
In truth, there were quite a few people holding grudges against me, so it wouldn’t be surprising if someone wanted to harm me. It could be one of those petty thieves I had chased away not long ago, or maybe it was that drunkard named Belga…
Anyway, it didn’t seem like a major issue.
“Sigh…”
Clearing my mind of unnecessary thoughts, I opened my eyes that I had closed.
“Offen, does meditation really work?”
I turned my head to look at a corner of the courtyard. There was a man sitting there, dressed in modest clothing. He seemed to be a teacher showing me how to handle a sword. He slowly opened his mouth in response to my question.
“Yes. Clearing your mind through meditation is essential. If your mind wavers, even the tip of the sword…”
Here we go again.
I tilted my head and drew my sword.
“Nevermind that, can you teach me how to wield a sword?”
“Tsk. Show some respect for your teacher, you damn brat.”
“Well, then you can put down the bottle you have in your mouth.”
I glanced at Offen, who had been drinking since early morning, with a pitying gaze. Before being banished to the underground city, he was said to be a renowned mercenary in the upper district… But every time I saw him like this, I had my doubts about those rumors.
Uncut rough beard.
Shabby attire and eyes stained with alcohol.
Offen was definitely a rough character, seeming like a drunkard who would mumble something and move on.
“But still…”
I adjusted my posture and swung the sword.
“At least his skills are undeniable.”
As soon as I swung the sword, a sharp voice echoed through the courtyard.
“It’s too rigid. Release some of your strength. Pull your elbow inward.”
It was Offen’s critique.
I adjusted my posture according to his critique. The effect was immediate. When I swung the sword, the sound became a bit more solid. I was impressed by the sound becoming heavier even though I had released some strength.
Hwoong.
I continued to swing the sword, and Offen offered brief words of advice. Offen’s teachings were always like this. He didn’t demonstrate the swordplay or adjust my stance directly, but he provided advice.
“And…”
That advice was genuine.
At first glance, he might seem like a drunkard, and he was indeed one, but at least when it came to discussing the sword (劍), Offen became infinitely serious.
“Lower your stance.”
Just like now.
“Open your eyes wide.”
A sharp voice.
“Breathe. Exhale. You’re putting too much force into it.”
Not a gaze soaked in alcohol but sharp pupils.
“It’s not about striking with the weight. What you’re holding in your hands is not a bludgeon, it’s a blade for cutting. Swing it not to strike, but as if brushing past.”
Listening to Offen’s voice, I swung the sword for a long time. Sweat dripped down my spine.
“Apply strength to your legs and push forward. It’s not about swinging with force. Watch the point where the sword swings to the end.”
Listening to his advice, I pondered.
Perhaps, this swing might be the last one for today. There were quite a few things I had to do.
“The last one should be neat.”
I adjusted the grip on the sword.
Engraving today’s advice in my mind, I regulated my breathing. Offen’s voice echoed in my ears like an auditory hallucination.
“Take a big step.”
Thud.
“Breathe evenly, and without stiffening your body, focus on the tip of the blade.”
Exhaling, I swung the sword.
From top to bottom, a basic swing that could be called nothing more than a descending sword technique. However, in that moment of swinging the sword, I sensed something different.
Shing!
The sound of the sword cutting through the air resonated.
The trajectory drawn by the tip of the blade was clear. A clean, silver-colored trail without any tremors. After the cutting sound of ‘shtek,’ I took a long breath.
“Cough, cough!”
For some reason, the breath I took in was warm. Surprised by the warm air, I turned my head towards Offen, coughing dryly.
“Offen, was what I just did alright?”
A clean and sharp swordplay, enough to astonish even myself.
With a hint of anticipation and excitement, I asked the question, but Offen looked at me with an indifferent gaze. Offen opened his mouth, only to close it again.
“Well…”
After a short while,
Offen muttered absent-mindedly.
“Are you okay?”
“What’s with the vague answer?”
“Well, it’s fine. It’s neat.”
“Is that so?”
I smirked. Wiping off the sweat from my forehead, I sheathed my sword. As I tidied up, Offen threw a question at me.
“Where are you going? It seems like you’re finishing earlier than usual today.”
“Where could I possibly go? It’s work.”
“…Who is it this time?”
Offen’s pupils narrowed instantly.
I answered with a wry smile.
“Tricksey.”
“Tricksey from the Lilac Bar?”
I nodded, and Offen clicked his tongue.
“That bastard has crossed the line.”
“He got caught smuggling and selling goods after luring some kids. What can I do? I have to clean up.”
“And you?”
“I have to. I’m known as Ivan’s hunting dog.”
Anyway, Offen muttered as he downed his drink.
“That Ivan guy, he makes you do all sorts of things, doesn’t he? Anyway, he’s a damn bastard, and damn organization.”
“But you’re a part of the Ivan family too, Offen.”
“He keeps asking me because of that… Ah, whatever.”
Offen waved his hand dismissively.
It meant for me to leave quickly.
I chuckled and moved on.
“I’m off.”
How many steps had I taken like that?
I turned around at the sound of my name. There, Opin was standing, with an empty bottle on the ground, staring straight at me.
“Come again tomorrow.”
“I’ll come without you saying it.”
3.
The vacant lot where Najin disappeared.
Opin slowly got up. He approached the spot where Najin had swung his sword just a moment ago.
“······.”
Opin looked at the traces Najin had left without saying a word. His gaze lingered on the place where Najin had last wielded his sword.
“Hmm···.”
Opin let out a long sigh.
Before being stuck in this underground city, he was a mercenary who threw away his name, a swordsman who wielded a blade. He might not have had the skills to compete with proper strong opponents, but at least…
He could assess the opponent’s level.
Opin pondered the path of the last swing of Najin’s sword. That damn brat probably didn’t even realize what he had swung in the end, maybe.
“I must have heard a sound.”
A rustling sound.
It might have been dismissed as insignificant. Even though he cut through the air, the sound of cutting something was heard. There was only one reason for it. Opin touched the ground engraved with the marks of the sword. It was the ground where Najin’s sword had passed.
The ground was hot.
Heat emanated from the ground.
As he scattered the dirt, the gravel mixed with the ground melted and stuck together. You couldn’t pull off such tricks just by swinging a sword. Opin’s mouth twitched. He knew what this was.
Mana, and the afterglow of the sword.
“You crazy bastard. You learned something without anyone teaching you.”
Opin chuckled, realizing his expectations had come true. It had been about two years since he took a look at Najin’s sword at the request of Ivan, his longtime friend and employer of the rookie.
Two years, enough time to gauge talent.
He knew Najin was a guy with potential. One who grasped tenets even when taught one thing, and not just once or twice realizing what he hadn’t been taught.
“I knew he was a genius, but…”
He didn’t expect it to be this much. Opin, who was assessing Najin’s talent, had a bitter expression.
“Tsk.”
He clicked his tongue shortly.
Knowing the value of Najin’s talent. And, aware that this damn city would never let that talent shine, Opin muttered nervously.
“Aesong-ah, trying to have such talent here only leads to misery.”
Even in this garbage-like city.
In this damn city full of nothing but trash.
Children with light are born.
And, even if it wasn’t Openn, everyone in this city knew how those children spoke. No matter how brilliant their talents were, no one could leave this city. That was the rule.
Eventually, Aesong would be no exception.
Slowly decaying in this city, having lost their light. In other words, it was a slow death. Rotting amid piles of garbage. Knowing this, Openn let out a long sigh.
Thud.
Openn harshly stepped on the ground.
Erasing the traces of darkness left on the ground, he thought. Craving for alcohol. More than usual.
Instead of leaving his seat like that,
Openn suddenly lifted his head. It was because of the rumors he had heard back in the upper district when he lived as a mercenary. Stories of those with brilliant talents attracting the attention of the stars, wherever they were.
“······.”
The sky with ore embedded instead of stars. Openn, looking up at the ceiling of the underground city, smirked and let out a laugh. It was a momentary thought, but he found himself amusing for entertaining the idea of ‘perhaps.’
“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t say a word.”
It’s just a futile dream.
Why would the thrones of the night sky be interested in the Aesong of this underground city for any reason? Rumors were just rumors in the first place. Dreaming of futile dreams only makes you more miserable.
“Sigh···.”
With a resigned sigh,
Openn picked up an empty bottle and left the square.
[Throne, the Staff of Selection screams in agony.]
[The Staff of Selection swears to catch the arrogant brat and punish him on his star!]
As the constellations in the night sky clung to Aesong, unaware that he was bubbling over, Openn left the square.