Star-Embracing Swordmaster (Full)

The spring of that year had been a very hard time.

Although the air was warm, the ground beneath their feet was soaked with blood, and the farmers, who should have been tilling their fields, were forced to wield spears instead of plows.

It was a time of calamities brought on by the oldest dragon.

However, even though the land was stained with blood, nature continued to bloom, and now, after a year had passed, summer was approaching.

"…This place hasn't changed at all."

The western city of Trinova.

A person was walking through the mansion, their voice resonating through the air.

The girl, clad in a large cloak she seemed to have picked up somewhere, let it billow behind her as she walked. Her hair was green, the color of summer.

"Has it been three years?"

The girl's height had grown significantly since she left, and she raised her gaze.

But unlike her, the mansion's landscape remained unchanged, momentarily turning Charlotte back into the child she had been when she left.

"…"

In the garden visible in the distance, her mother was tending to the plants.

If she turned the corner ahead, there would be the training grounds where her brothers practiced.

And if she walked along the path she was currently on, she would reach the Ravnoma Hall where her father had always been.

"Remove it."

"Yes."

Where her father, the ruler of these lands, used to sit.

However, what now adorned the entrance to the hall was the faded emblem of Gaidar.

Creak!

The door to the mansion opened behind the flag that the soldiers quickly removed.

The inside was completely dark, contrasting with the bright summer outside, and it was filled with dust and the foul stench of death.

"…So you've finally arrived, brat."

Sitting in the spot where her father had once sat was an unfamiliar man.

The corners of his mouth, where even the noonday sun couldn't bear to shine, were drenched in dark red blood that flowed ceaselessly.

"Sigmund Gaidar."

The enemy of her father and her family.

And Sigmund Gaidar, who would become the final loser of the continental war waged by the oldest dragon.

As Charlotte looked at him, there was a coldness in her eyes that seemed beyond her young age.

"Is my son dead?"

"Not yet."

"Ha. That boy never listens to me."

A long sigh escaped his deeply bent figure.

With his back hunched over, he let out a heavy, deep sigh, like the last breath of life in the twilight of his existence.

"I told him he wouldn't die well and that he should take his own life."

"Stephen's whereabouts have already been secured by Nidavellir, Sigmund."

Charlotte Ravnoma walked along the long carpet and ascended the steps of the hall, steps that only the ruler could climb.

Before she knew it, she held a sword with a black blade in her hand.

"So now, it's just you left."

For Gaidar, the girl who had become the last of the Ravnomas might have been the last remaining obstacle.

The tip of the sword extended abruptly, stopping at the back of Sigmund's neck, harshly connecting their worlds.

"A cowardly traitor who deceived my father."

Cough, cough.

"…And a coward who refuses to pay the proper price until the very end."

The usurper of the West, who had bathed Charlotte's mansion in blood with his treacherous ambush, now refused to accept his final defeat, swallowing poison. Charlotte frowned as she watched Sigmund.

"Any last words?"

"…"

But even so, Charlotte sought to fulfill her duty as the victor.

The cold, gleaming tip of the sword trembled as if it wanted to pierce Sigmund right then, but she still attempted to uphold her duty because she wanted to show that she and he were different.

"…Heh."

He swallowed poison to avoid dying in servitude, but in the end, he was cast aside by the victor in his final moments.

At that moment, Sigmund was thinking of one man.

The knight from that day who hid the frightened dwarves behind his towering presence.

"…Jorge."

He had been confident that he would win, but in the end, he became the loser and lost everything.

When had it all started?

Was it when his soldiers failed to cross Deirmar? Or when they burned the Ravnoma flag?

"In the end, you stabbed me in the back."

No, it probably began when I met a boy named Vlad.

From the moment I met the knight of the North, born in the cold alleyways.

"…You rose with the sword."

A blue sword raced toward Sigmund's head as he spat his final words filled with regret.

The name of the sword now rushing toward me is Charlotte Ravnoma.

The name of the knight who brought this sword here is Vlad Aureo.

And the one who raised the sword was Jorge, a knight of the courtesans who preferred mercy over duty.

Swoosh!

From sword to sword, from world to world.

The girl's sword was bringing an end to a long and painful war.

With Sigmund's head tumbling down the stairs.

Spring after winter.

And now, the beginning of a new summer.

***

"Oh lord, this never ends, no matter how many times I pull them."

The scene was of a small rural village filled with vast fields of green wheat and rows of cottages behind them.

It was a peaceful place, with only the sound of cows mooing in the distance, but it was also filled with the grumbling of someone who didn't quite belong.

"Will this ever be done?"

The summer wheat fields, not yet ripe, were still green.

However, the blond hair peeking out from above had the color of ripe wheat.

"You idiot. If you used your hands instead of talking, this would've been done ages ago."

"Why is it over already? There's still a lot left."

A man without armor but with a sword sheath strapped to his back, as if unable to part from his blade.

Aside from that, Vlad, dressed like an ordinary farmer, lifted his head and began to look around the wide wheat field.

"No, I heard you're supposed to use people for work like this."

"If you use people, it costs money."

"You've made plenty of money. I know I got a big share this time too."

Beside Vlad, who continued to grumble, was Ramund, with a straw hat pulled low over his head.

He looked the part, as if he had been a farmer since birth, but until last year, he had been a ruthless man, constantly eliminating enemies at the front of Deirmar.

"If you spend blindly what you've earned, you can't avoid becoming a beggar. Anyway, today's youth don't know the virtue of thrift."

Seeing Ramund click his tongue as he said those words, Vlad started frowning, as if he had had enough.

"Save what you save, and your old body starts to wither."

"You're so noisy! Anyway, keep your mouth shut before someone calls me a city type."

Ramund yelled as if he couldn't take it any longer.

However, as if what Vlad said was true, the sun was slowly setting behind him.

"Even though I was born in the city, I know that days in the countryside are short, right?"

Ramund's estate was bathed in the red light of the setting sun as it slowly sank behind the horizon.

Vlad, standing beneath it, grinned contentedly as the surroundings grew darker and darker.

"So let's stop pulling weeds and go have dinner."

"…Yes. It was my mistake asking a guy like you to help with farming."

It was probably natural to ask this of a city man who had never worked in agriculture.

In the end, it was a day that ended without finishing the planned routine, only accepting Vlad's complaints.

"Let's go. Even though I couldn't pay you with bread, I'll at least give you some soup."

"Haha. The food here is so delicious."

However, Ramund didn't particularly regret having let Vlad handle the plow.

Because Vlad's expression looked a bit relaxed as he set down his sword for a moment.

***

"How old are you?"

"Four years old."

"…But why are you showing five fingers?"

Underneath a table full of food, a young girl proudly stretched out her hands, showing five fingers.

"Are you turning five soon?"

"No. It's been less than a month since I turned four."

Even though she gave the wrong answer, her chubby cheeks made anyone want to pinch them.

Ramund took his youngest granddaughter, sat her on his lap, and spoke.

"She's still young and can't fold her fingers the way she wants."

"Aha."

Her clenched fists looked as chubby as her cheeks.

It was clear that she had been well-fed and was growing strong.

A small smile appeared on Vlad's face as he watched the child.

"Anyway, I'm glad the war ended quickly. Unlike last year, it seems like we can look forward to a good harvest this year."

Before anyone realized, the table was filled with freshly baked white bread, brought in by Ramund's daughters-in-law.

It was the first time Vlad had tasted freshly baked white bread since meeting Father Andreas.

"I didn't expect the Golden Duke to surrender so quickly."

"They say he's a man who prioritizes losses and gains like a businessman, rather than duty or honor. I suppose he quickly calculated that victory would be hard to achieve."

The continental war, which had started with the call to arms by Sarnus, the Dragon-Blood Duke, was now in its second year, and the war itself was nearing its end.

At the beginning of the war, the central army had such a strong momentum that it seemed as if they would devour the North, but now that momentum was fading like a dying fire.

"Of course, the impact of losing focus in the early stages of the war must have been significant. Thanks to you."

"…Well, maybe there was a reason for that."

Various races had begun to rise up in different parts of the land, alongside the fierce resistance in the North.

And though the forces of the Empire, who had long been oppressed by the central nobles, had joined the resistance, the greatest variable was undoubtedly the duel between Vlad and Sarnus.

"But that's no longer important."

A war that could have drowned the entire continent in blood had ended with minimal sacrifice, thanks to the man sitting across the table, who was now merely offering breadcrumbs to a dirt-covered little girl.

"At least this year, there won't be many children going hungry. Isn't that right?"

"…Yes."

A hero of the continent, praised by all.

A new swordmaster of this era, a figure that emerged after the founding of the nation.

But now, he was just an ordinary-looking young man, handing bread to a little girl.

"So, when do you plan on attending Rutiger's succession ceremony? If it were me, I would have wanted you to be there early."

"I have to go."

Vlad, now eating his share of the bread, replied with a smile to Ramund.

"There's already plenty of people going to see it."

"What are you going to do? Should we go together?"

Ramund's mansion was situated right next to the city of Varna.

Therefore, he was in a position to travel directly to Sturma, where the succession ceremony was to be held, but Vlad simply shook his head.

"I have to pass through Soara before going there."

"Why? Is there really a need to go?"

Soara was the southernmost city in the county of Bayezid.

Ramund was puzzled by Vlad's words, but after hearing the final explanation, he had no choice but to nod.

"Every time I go somewhere, I have to say goodbye. I promised I would do it."

"Tsk tsk tsk. You live such a tight life."

From a cunning boy to a young man who now knew how to smile.

That might have been possible because he had a home he created for himself, rather than the small home he had once been forced to abandon.

"But make sure you come before it's too late. If your name is worth it, it'll be easier to prepare if you arrive at least a month in advance."

"Understood."

Vlad nodded at Ramund's words, lifted his head for a moment, and began to take in the current scene.

Bread, steaming soup, and even a child smiling at him.

"…"

These were peaceful sights that he would never have dared to dream of before.

Yet as his eyes absorbed the scene, Vlad couldn't shake the inexplicable feeling of lingering loneliness nestled deep in his heart.