Ten Years of Warmth, Ten Years of Ash
Cecilia had no parents, no name, and nowhere to go. She was just another nameless orphan in the slums. Like so many others, she was a soulless husk, wandering aimlessly out of a primal fear of death. The slums were the underbelly of the adult world—which meant they were a living hell for a child. Children were bought and sold as slaves, or used as convenient punching bags to vent frustration. At just five years old, the girl had endured this hell alone. She had no real will to live; she merely begged to fill her starving belly, scraping by day by day. But who could look at her and see a living human being? She was not living; she was merely waiting to die.
When a child sat on the streets of the slums, abuse was inevitable. She, too, spent her days running from beggars who beat her for no reason. Once, she was nearly sold into slavery, betrayed by an adult she had dared to trust. The only reason she had managed to survive on her own was because being alone was the only way to stay alive. She wandered the streets, her body a canvas of festering wounds and jagged scars. Her skin was mottled with deep purple bruises, and one of her eyes was swollen so badly she could barely open it. As the physical scars multiplied, the scars on her heart grew even deeper. A few adults looked at her with pity, but pity was cheap; none of them ever tossed her a coin. Her world was as dark as if the sun had been permanently snuffed out. In this place, children are beaten for no reason. I'll probably be beaten to death eventually anyway. Dying now would be so much easier than living like this.
With clumsy, trembling fingers, the girl reached into a passing man's pocket. Snatch! Before she could even pull her hand back, a firm grip locked around her wrist. This is it. I'm going to be beaten to death. She closed her eyes, wishing he would just get it over with quickly. But the sensation that followed didn't hurt at all. Instead, a warm, gentle hand rested softly on her head. "What is your name?" By some stroke of fate, the sunlight framed the man like a halo. The girl blinked twice and looked up at him. He was smiling—a smile as warm as the morning sun. It was the first time she had ever seen such an expression in these slums. "Would you like to come with me?" "..." He must be planning to sell me as a slave too. She knew it, yet she had no choice but to follow. How could she refuse when he held out a large, fresh loaf of bread? The desperate urge to fill her empty stomach drowned out all fear. Whether I get beaten to death by a stranger on the street or by a slave trader, it's all the same. Rationalizing it to herself, the girl nodded.
The man led her out of the slums and settled into the city. In a grand, luxurious inn, he fed her until she was full, washed her clean, and disinfected her wounds. "Are you alright? How did you endure all this? It must have hurt so much." A shadow of genuine sorrow crossed his face, as if he could feel her pain himself. The girl felt an overwhelming, almost suffocating warmth from him. Yet, a sharp pang pierced her chest at the thought that this happiness might be a lie. Tomorrow, I'll probably wake up and find myself sold to a slave trader... When night fell, she slept in a soft, peaceful bed. One day passed, then two, then three. Even after a week had gone by, the man continued to feed her, bathe her, and tend to her wounds. He was always by her side, wrapping her in his gentle warmth. Finally, harboring a tiny, fragile hope, she spoke up. "Mister. Why did you save me?" She desperately wanted to know. If it was just pity, tossing her a coin or giving her a scrap of bread would have been more than enough. "Because you asked me to save you." "...I did?" "Yes. With your eyes." The girl's eyes widened. Back then, her eyes had been begging for death, but this man saw the world through a different lens.
Over time, the girl came to understand the man. He was endlessly kind, gentle, and always living for the sake of others. "...Name." "Hmm?" "Tell me your name." Until now, she hadn't known his name. She hadn't cared to know. But now, she wanted to. "You took your time asking. I've been waiting for a while, too. How does 'Cecilia' sound?" "...?" She had been asking for his name, but instead, she had unwittingly received one of her own. Strangely, she liked this much better. Cecilia crawled onto his lap and snuggled deep into his chest, soaking in his warmth. As she peeked up at him, he gently stroked her hair. "And your name, Mister?" "Ah, so that's what you meant. You can just call me Papa." Cecilia shook her head vigorously. "I hate papas. Mine beat me and threw me away." "...I see." "And you're too young to be a papa anyway. Maybe an older brother." "Well, thank you for the compliment. But I'm a bit too old to be your brother. You can call me Lucas." Slowly, Cecilia opened her heart, letting him heal her deep emotional wounds. The man's name was Lucas. He also mentioned that he was a Hero of the Empire, which sounded incredibly romantic to her ears. Lucas. My Hero.
Lucas announced that he had to return to his duties as a Hero and leave for the Imperial Capital. Naturally, Cecilia followed him. Whenever Lucas was home, she clung to him every single second. Looking at his cozy warmth and gentle smile made her want to bury herself even deeper into his embrace, as if the wounds in her heart were finally healing and the lingering void inside her was being filled.
"Lucas, I wish you could stay home forever."
Even the time they spent together felt too short, leaving her constantly dissatisfied. She wanted to be with him every moment of every day, but Lucas spent half of his day outside. Lately, even when she tried to act spoiled in his arms, he would often laugh awkwardly and gently push her away.
"It seems Cecilia really needs me."
"Yes. Forever."
"But Cecilia, I am a Hero of the Empire. There are many people who need me besides you."
"I hate the Empire. Just be Cecilia's Hero."
"Haha..."
Cecilia had a vague understanding of what a Hero was. They said he was an incredible person who protected the Empire, but she couldn't care less about any of that. She only felt a burning jealousy. What is the Empire to steal my Hero away? Lucas is my Hero, and mine alone.
Cecilia turned eight. Lately, the time she spent with Lucas had dwindled significantly.
"Are you here, Lia?"
'Lia' was the affectionate nickname Lucas had given her. Cecilia loved hearing him call her that, but seeing what he was doing, she pouted. Whenever Lucas had a spare moment, he devoted himself to swordsmanship training outside. Even now, in the dead of night, he was out alone, swinging his sword. Cecilia walked up to him and reached out.
"Not the sword. Lia's hand."
"Your hand?"
"Hold Lia's hand."
Whenever she did this, Lucas would offer a helpless smile and take her hand. His hand was sweaty and rough, covered in thick calluses. But because it felt uniquely like Lucas's hand, she cherished it all the more.
"You know, Lucas."
"Hmm?"
"I'm going to marry you when I grow up. Because you're Lia's Hero."
Lucas took it as the typical childhood declaration of "I'm going to marry Papa when I grow up!" Cecilia sensed his amusement, but in her own way, she was entirely serious. Even if her feelings might change when she grew up...
Cecilia turned ten.
"Would you like to try using a sword too, Lia?"
When she pouted in jealousy, begging him to stop training, Lucas made the offer. Cecilia shook her head petulantly, but then asked, just in case.
"If Lia does it, will Lucas like it?"
"Of course. I'd be very proud of you."
"Then I'll do it. Give me the shiny one."
"This one... no. It's not that I won't, but you won't be able to use it."
"Hmph. Lucas is stingy."
The sword Lucas held was more brilliant and beautiful than sunlight itself. That sword was his exclusive domain. Cecilia took the ordinary training sword he handed her instead. She clumsily traced the sword paths as he instructed, and a moment later, Lucas let out a genuine gasp of admiration.
"Oh, Lia, you have a real talent for this!"
"Really?"
"Yes, absolutely. You've definitely picked up a thing or two from watching me."
"Lia is short. I can't see over Lucas's shoulder."
"Haha..."
From then on, Cecilia trained in swordsmanship alongside Lucas. She didn't particularly find the lessons fun. She only did it because she loved Lucas's praise.
"You improve every time I teach you, Lia. If you keep this up, you might even become a Hero yourself one day."
"A Hero?"
"Yes. Would you like to become a Hero of the Empire when you grow up, Lia?"
"I like being a Hero. But I hate the Empire. Lia wants to be Lucas's Hero."
"Well, a Hero is a Hero either way. If you really become one, it must be destiny. Since we'll both be Heroes."
"Destiny? Lia is Lucas's destiny?"
"Of course. If you become a Hero like me."
Destined partners... Lucas is Lia's Hero. Lia is Lucas's Hero. We are destiny.
Cecilia turned fifteen. Her feelings for Lucas remained as unchanged as they had been ten years ago. She had begun to develop the body of a young woman and tried to show off her feminine charm, but Lucas still looked at her like a daughter. No, actually, he had begun to look at her as a disciple rather than a daughter.
"You're here, Lia."
"Good morning, Master."
Cecilia had officially become Lucas's disciple. Her talent for swordsmanship was extraordinary, and the Imperial Court had already earmarked her as the next Hero. But that was merely a formal title. In Cecilia's eyes, their relationship was entirely different. A man and a woman living alone under one roof—even if they hadn't held a wedding ceremony, she believed she and her master were practically husband and wife. As always, they stood side by side, swinging their swords. After a long session, Cecilia became self-conscious of her sweaty scent. When she let go of her hilt, she noticed the thick calluses on her palms. They were ugly, unsightly hands, completely unbefitting of a young woman. Cecilia had only trained so diligently because she knew Lucas loved swordsmanship. In truth, she didn't want to hold a sword hilt; she wanted to hold her master's hand.
"May I stop here for today?"
"Why? Are you feeling unwell? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. I just want to rest."
Cecilia looked at her master, recalling the nightmares she had been having lately. An insidious anxiety had been growing in her chest. What if he vanished while carrying out his duties as a Hero?
"Master."
Cecilia clutched his sleeve. After a long hesitation, she summoned her courage and spoke.
"Can't you quit being a Hero?"
"...What do you mean by that?"
"Exactly what I said. I'm worried about you. I'm so scared. I feel like... like you're going to die if you keep doing this."
Cecilia took a deep breath and poured out the feelings she had kept bottled up for so long.
"Please. Quit being a Hero. Let's build a house in the mountains you love so much and live there together. Just the two of us, in peace. That's how I want to live with you. Can't you do that for me, Master?"
"Lia."
"Of course I'm happy now. I love being with you. But sometimes—no, every single day—I'm so terrified. Please, Master. Can't we just... live peacefully like everyone else?"
"And who would protect that peace?"
Cecilia bit her lip. In the ten years they had spent together, she had come to know him completely. She could read his heart just by looking into his eyes.
"If you don't quit being a Hero, I'm leaving."
"Lia...? Why so suddenly?"
"I mean it. I'm not lying."
It was a childish tantrum. But it was the only way she knew to break her master's stubbornness. Without another word, Cecilia showed him her resolve. She packed her bags, slung her pack over her shoulder, and walked out, staring back at him intently.
"Master. I'm not joking."
"..."
"I just want to live a long life with you. Is that really such a selfish wish? Just promise me. Promise me you'll quit being a Hero. That's all I need."
A heavy silence hung between them. Overwhelmed by a surge of emotion, Cecilia bit her lower lip.
"I'm leaving."
With those final words, Cecilia turned her back on him. With every step she took, the distance between them widened. Secretly, she prayed he would run after her and hold her back. But even after she stepped outside the house, no voice called out to her. Cecilia stared blankly at the house. Then, acting out of spite and in direct opposition to her true feelings, she walked away. The young Cecilia had been completely consumed by her own rebellion.
"...Don't regret this."
She said those words, but she fully intended to return in four days. She figured that if she disappeared for a few days, her master would finally realize the gravity of the situation.
Four days passed, but Cecilia had no home to return to. She couldn't believe the reality before her. She had never heard any mention of him raiding the Ten-Tier Abyss. Yet the entire world was saying that he had died there. "..." The man who had been her entire life was gone forever. And she had only realized it when it was already too late. Deep down, Cecilia had known. She had known that if he continued to be a Hero, he might die. Knowing that, instead of staying by his side, she had thrown a tantrum. If only I had forced him to stay. If only I hadn't left and had stayed by his side instead. With each passing day, Cecilia's mind and body withered, her spirit completely devastated. As much as she missed him, she couldn't bring herself to die like this. She had to accomplish something before she could face him in the afterlife. Yes. Revenge. She would slaughter every single monster in the Ten-Tier Abyss that had caused her master's death. With that single thought, she dragged her broken body back up, burying her grief and forcing herself to be consumed by a burning desire for vengeance.
Cecilia leaned on her hatred to keep her shattered mind intact. Seeing her resolve, the Imperial Court provided her with unstinting support. Within the imperial palace, Cecilia threw herself into training day after day. She didn't believe that successful revenge would heal her wounds. If the void in her heart remained even after she conquered the Ten-Tier Abyss, she resolved to welcome death without regret. They said that when a Hero died, they became a star in the night sky. Whenever she looked up at the heavens, his face would materialize in her mind, and the tender feelings of the past would bloom anew. If I die, I will become a brilliant star in the night sky and reunite with him.
Ten years spent with him. Ten years spent without him. Ever since she lost her master, Cecilia had lived only in her memories. She had spent the last decade constantly overlaying her past onto her present. And now, the opportunity to take the first step toward her revenge had arrived. The Rank 7 Lord of the Abyss Palace, the Tomb of Faith. If she conquered the Abyss Palace step by step, it wouldn't be long before she could subjugate the Ten-Tier Abyss. With that determination, she had breached the fifth floor of the Tomb of Faith, only to be met with confusion. A Dullahan, an insectoid, a vampire—she couldn't believe these pathetic weaklings were supposed to be the children of the Abyss. Crash! Even the witch standing attendance beside the boss was laughably weak. Cecilia shifted her gaze. The Death Knight standing in her field of vision had still not made a single move. "Why are you just standing there?" This was the boss of the Abyss Palace. A monster of the newly risen Abyss Palace who had easily slaughtered two Heroes, striking despair and terror into the heart of the Empire. Why was such a creature merely watching as his subordinates were slaughtered? All he did was track her movements with his eyes. What kind of scheme was he plotting?
Cecilia brushed her doubts aside and unleashed a devastating slash. Yet, instead of resisting, the creature stood perfectly still, taking the blow head-on. But before Cecilia could even process her confusion—Crack! A sudden sensation flared near her chest. "Ugh!" Reeling from a sudden, overwhelming overload, Cecilia stumbled. She squeezed her eyes shut. Thanks to the Moonlight Sword's Luna supporting her mental fortitude, that was the extent of the backlash. Master. The guillotine execution. The witches' village. In an instant, a torrent of memories rushed back, piecing themselves together like a puzzle. "...What is... this?" Her mind felt as though it were fracturing. Yet, the memories relentlessly forced themselves back into place. Soon, Cecilia's eyes widened to their absolute limits. Reflexively, she looked down at her chest. The ruby crystal was gone, shattered without a trace.
Her thoughts raced at breakneck speed. The ruby crystal was destroyed, and my memories have returned. Master was executed for protecting the witches. Unable to contain my rage, I drew my sword against the Empire. And after I was subdued, my memories were artificially manipulated using that ruby crystal... "Ah..." Her gaze naturally fell upon the Death Knight. He lay collapsed on the ground, a deep, fatal wound carved into his chest. This memory was not a fabrication. He was indeed the boss of the Abyss Palace. Yet, it was incredibly bizarre that the boss of the Abyss Palace had not resisted even once, even now as he lay dying. Even on the verge of death, the Holy Sword in his hand shone with an exceptionally brilliant light. Until now, that radiance had only reminded her of her master, fueling her murderous intent.
"...Why?" Once again, the question arose. Why had he kept staring at her? Whether she was far or near, no matter which direction she moved, his gaze had followed her as if spellbound. At first, she had dismissed it as mere vigilance. But if it were vigilance, why had he allowed her attack to land? More importantly, why had her ruby crystal been destroyed? Was it really a coincidence that it shattered the moment she stood before the Death Knight? Suddenly, her master's final words before his execution flashed through her mind. He had died cursing humanity with his final breath. And those who harbored a profound hatred for humanity were bound to rise again as the undead.
"...No, it can't be." The light of the Holy Sword shone as brilliantly as it did in her memories. In the corner of her vision, she saw the witch crashed against the wall. She was the witch the Death Knight had kept by his side all this time. Why would he keep a human witch, rather than a monster, in his dungeon? Why harbor a fellow enemy of humanity? ...And the Death Knight's gaze had followed her with obsessive intensity. If there was a reason, it was to see her clearly. To see who I was? The boss of the Abyss Palace had not attacked, nor had he even defended himself. Instead of resisting, he had shattered Cecilia's ruby crystal. In that split second of life and death, he had targeted nothing else but that crystal. The scattered puzzle pieces fell perfectly into place. Her frozen heart began to throb violently once more. Overwhelmed by a sudden, paralyzing weakness, Cecilia collapsed to her knees. Driven by pure instinct, she dragged herself across the floor toward him.
"Ah... ah..." Watching the light slowly fade from the Death Knight's eyes, Cecilia reached out with trembling fingertips. "No... No, no, no... Why did I... what did I do...?" The moment her hand touched him, a torrent of raw emotion surged through her. I let him die back then, and now I've killed him with my own hands. Just like before, she had realized the truth only after committing the irreversible deed. This Death Knight was her master.
"...Cecilia." "Yes, yes! It's me! It's really me! Sob... Why... why did I do this to you, Master..." "Are..." A faint, raspy whisper escaped her master's lips. Though he couldn't finish the word, Cecilia knew exactly what he wanted to say. Are you alright? Even as he lay dying, he was worrying about her. He was asking if she was okay as she wept. That was exactly the kind of man he was. Suddenly, Cecilia's vision went black. Her body tilted, and a sharp, agonizing pain flared in her shoulder. A bolt of dark mana had pierced straight through her. Blinking her eyes open, Cecilia looked at Charlotte, who was bleeding from her head. As the witch prepared to cast another spell, Cecilia rushed toward her. Before Charlotte could back away, Cecilia fell to her knees.
"I-I'm sorry. I'll apologize for everything. So please... please, save my master... Please, please! You're a necromancer, aren't you? You can save him! You can save my master!" "...What on earth are you talking about?" "My master... he's going to die at this rate! You can kill me right now if you want! Just please, save my master... please..." Charlotte stared at Cecilia, her eyes wide with shock. Cecilia's trembling finger was pointing directly at the boss.
