Paths That Crossed
A group of warhorses thundered forward, their eyes locked straight ahead. The riders looked utterly exhausted, yet they showed no sign of slowing, relentlessly snapping their reins. Leading the charge were Lianna Helmont and Silberna Kaldias. They were even outpacing Supreme Commander Uldiran. The way they spurred their mounts onward, completely ignoring formation, made their desperation all too clear.
"That's why you let the damn thing slip away!"
Silberna spat out her complaint irritably. The horde lord had chosen flight from the start, so the battle hadn't dragged on as expected—and their encirclement had been breached.
Krumm! Krumm!
Thunder rumbled in the distance. As they drew nearer to the Mallidan Wall, the beast's cataclysmic mana prickled their skin like sparks.
'Isaac.'
Lianna's grip tightened on the reins.
'Please, just run.'
She truly hoped he'd fled. The horde lord was no opponent for Isaac. No—not just Isaac; no one left at the wall could stop it.
"Haa! Haa!"
Only after that frantic ride did the Mallidan Wall finally come into view. It was a far cry from its usual state. Thick white mist roiled like clouds, and the wall itself was frozen over, massive frost crystals gleaming white. Uldiran had explained it earlier.
"It's the wall's defensive magic. Designed to activate automatically in a crisis."
His words about it stopping on its own in a few hours fell on deaf ears. That sight alone screamed that the Mallidan Wall was in dire straits.
"Kuuaaaaaah!"
A roar choked with rage echoed, lightning forking out like spreading flames. Atop the wall, Bricala unleashed bolts of thunder. Too far to make out the figures up there—except for one.
"Isaac—!"
Lianna's eyes flew wide. The beast's lightning hurtled toward him without a hint of hesitation, ready to engulf and incinerate the defenseless man in an instant.
Then, in the skies above the Mallidan Wall.
A silver line slashed across. Unwavering, it was beautiful as ice crystals, delicate as an artisan's brushstroke. It pushed forward, testing the limits.
"Whoa."
Forgetting the situation entirely, Silberna let out an involuntary gasp of awe. Even Uldiran stared wide-eyed. A great flash born not of aura, but pure swordsmanship. All who witnessed it gaped and cried out in amazement.
Closest of all, Bricala—who hadn't even registered the strike—hit the ground on its knees as its head tumbled free.
"Gaaahhh!"
The first thing out of Isaac's mouth as he opened his eyes was a scream laced with agony. His arm felt like it was twisting apart. He hurriedly checked his right hand—and saw it splinted.
"Hah! Hah!"
His arm was intact, but the muscles and bones inside churned like a whirlwind. He clenched his teeth and only then noticed the thick cloth stuffed in his mouth—probably to keep him from biting his tongue in his sleep from the pain.
"Ptoo."
He spat out the cloth and looked around. A familiar place: the infirmary.
"Anyone... anyone there?"
His voice wouldn't come out right, but even that faint call brought hurried footsteps from outside. The door flew open.
"Isaac?"
It was Lianna. Seeing her unharmed filled him with instant relief. If she was standing there safe and sound, things must have wrapped up okay.
"Are you alright? How's your body?"
"F-fine—ngh, yeah. More importantly, the beast?"
He endured the pain in his right arm to ask. Amid the hazy memories, that one moment burned crystal clear. He needed to know if it was real.
Lianna nodded slightly at his question.
"Dead. You did it."
"...Right."
He hadn't thought of it as some monumental feat. But hearing it from Lianna, her eyes glistening with tears, stirred something warm in his chest.
"I did it."
Relief and emptiness mingled. Since his regression, he'd battled strong foes in the North. But this was the first time he'd faced something so far beyond his level—and won.
"I... did it."
Isaac covered his face with his left hand. The surging emotions defied easy words. Hundreds of hours turning the impossible possible—and now, they whispered he'd earned his place.
"I saw your sword."
Lianna hesitated, then met his gaze. Complex feelings swirled as she gently laid her hand on his right arm—the one that had birthed that miraculous strike.
"To be honest... until yesterday, I hoped you wouldn't swing a sword."
"..."
"Swordsmanship seemed like a scar for you, something you obsessed over. Especially trying to incorporate the Helmont style while wielding the complete opposite."
During his time with the Helmonts.
Hadn't Isaac ever tried handling their greatswords? He'd accepted spars with those near-violent direct kin for one reason: to learn. To become a son-in-law fitting the Helmonts. A husband worthy of Lianna.
"Remember after your bout with Roengreen? You were bedridden for a week."
"How could I forget."
Isaac gave a wry smile. Roengreen, defeated by him in front of Lianna, had dragged him out the next day for a rematch—and gotten utterly wrecked. While laid up after, Lianna had visited curtly and dropped just one line before leaving.
"I told you to quit the sword."
"...Yeah."
Lianna steadied her breath. She looked pained, but knowing it wasn't her place to wallow, she composed herself and continued.
"I wanted you to stop trying. You kept crashing against the Helmont 'rock'—you looked ready to shatter any second."
But she'd been wrong.
She realized now she shouldn't have said it.
"It was the opposite."
Tears welled in Lianna's eyes but didn't fall—as if she had no right.
"I—"
She slowly met Isaac's gaze. A smile twisted by bitter regret.
"Should have said... you could do it."
Truth was.
That day she'd told him to give up—she'd cried endlessly. Even the one person whose approval she craved most had abandoned her hopes. The flames of her effort had guttered out, hollow and shocking.
"I wanted you not to break—"
To hide her flowing tears, Lianna cupped her eyes.
"But I—!"
Emotions burst forth. Hot breath carrying searing regret.
"Was the one who broke you."
Hardships are part of the path forward.
But when the goal itself vanishes—there's nothing left but collapse.
Lianna had been Isaac's goal.
All else was just adversity to overcome.
"I get it now."
Forcing a smile, Lianna slowly straightened. She sniffled an apology for her misunderstanding.
"You've... truly overcome it all. Before we—who hurt you—even noticed your scars."
Already.
"You've overcome it."
And so.
She painfully realized there was nothing she could do.
"...Wasn't easy."
Misunderstandings piled from his regression. It might look like he'd brushed them off lightly.
But honestly.
Truly.
"It was hellish."
In his past life, he hadn't overcome it so neatly. After Alois's scheme crippled his leg, he'd holed up for a year, seeing no one.
One reason: he couldn't bear showing Lianna his utterly hopeless self.
But now.
"I admired your sword, Lianna."
All that was just hardship overcome. The bloomed Isaac no longer fixated on the Helmonts who'd cast him out.
"What did it look like to you?"
He wanted the swordsman's verdict—the one whose path had set him on his own.
"It was—"
Lianna beamed, unmindful of tears streaming down her cheeks. Recalling that astonishing, sublime strike.
"Incredible."
Not one for words, she couldn't adorn it with flourishes.
But.
That simple reply was enough.
"Finally."
A gentle smile curved Isaac's lips.
"You've acknowledged me, Lia."
"Truly... incredible."
Beyond the door. Hearing Lianna's choked confession, Silberna felt her breath catch.
"Finally."
She closed her eyes tightly. Just voices from outside the infirmary, yet she could picture his expression.
"You've acknowledged me, Lia."
His reply brimmed with such pure emotion.
"..."
Silberna's head drooped. Strands of hair veiled her vision, but the silver earring in her palm stood sharp and clear. She fought back the tears welling up.
Squeeze.
She clenched her fist around the earring Antonio had made—as if hiding what she'd nearly done moments ago.
She walked down the hall. On the pretext of not disturbing their time, she held her breath.
Words burned on her tongue.
She swallowed them down with her tears.