Geum Taeyang's Decisive Words That Awakened Arthur in the Sword Dance Festival Semifinals
The first match of the Sword Dance Festival semifinals belonged to Geum Taeyang. After putting on just enough of a show to make it look like a proper contest, he secured victory without mercy.
As he descended from the stage, leaving the herald’s excited commentary behind, his youngest slave Bianca came bounding toward him, her plump rear jiggling with every excited hop. She could barely contain her joy.
“Hoo… That was a tough match. Making sure to draw it out and create the right picture without rushing is harder than it looks.”
“Mmm…! I see.”
“You don’t believe your master?”
“No, I believe you! I believe you completely, Master!”
“This little thing.”
Geum Taeyang wiped away his sweat while failing to hide the teasing grin tugging at his cheeks. As a man who knew how to craft a spectacle, he had even brought out Helios Kaiser to heighten the emperor’s presence in the semifinals, so a one-minute finish was out of the question. Just like his match against Samuel in the round of eight, he had constructed a proper scenario and performed his role to perfection. Yet because his strength was so overwhelmingly absurd, Bianca still looked unconvinced—and knowing that full well, Geum Taeyang deliberately picked a fight with her.
‘Arthur seemed pretty nervous. I needed to buy her some time to calm down.’
That was the real reason behind his efforts. The second semifinal match featured his junior, Arthur, whose tension had been anything but normal. According to the original World Conquest Record storyline, Arthur would reach the round of eight in the third Sword Dance Festival before losing to Samuel. The semifinals were a stage that never existed in the original plot, and standing on it had forced Arthur to confront an unexpected variable—her nervousness while appearing in her true form rather than disguised as a man.
“So the Dark Knight who defeated Count Samuel has advanced to the finals, Sword Empress.”
“He’s a swordsman with plenty of backbone. His opponent looked visibly tense on this grand semifinal stage, yet he showed no sign of it himself.”
“I agree. I’d like to see it for myself—whether that tremendous composure holds even before the emperor. Heh heh…”
In front of the VIP seats, the golden legendary treasure Helios Kaiser remained embedded in a specially crafted sword stand. It would stay there through the semifinals and finals, and once the champion was decided, the emperor would draw it forth to declare the winner.
“The next match will likely unfold quite differently, Your Imperial Majesty. The first bout featured two young warriors, but this time we have a highly experienced fighter against one who still looks far too youthful.”
“Inspector Luciel. While the Dark Knight’s victory over Samuel may have dimmed her light somewhat, her own performance remains one of this festival’s greatest surprises.”
The stage damage from Geum Taeyang’s match had been restored through the empire’s top-tier alchemy, and preparations for the second semifinal were already underway. The two warriors who stepped forward were a striking contrast: on one side, the beautiful swordswoman Luciel in gleaming white armor with golden hair; on the other, a middle-aged swordsman in black armor with black hair and a thick black beard.
“Master, do you still believe Inspector Luciel will win this match as well?”
“Of course. I already told you—Luciel and I are meeting in the finals.”
Having finished his own match early, Geum Taeyang and Bianca took seats in the front row of the stands to watch the second semifinal.
‘Still, it won’t be an easy fight. And it will be a meaningful one. Count Mateo, the embodiment of rigid orthodoxy—his sword is, in a way, similar to Arthur’s old style.’
Arthur’s opponent was Count Mateo of the Darmina Empire, a man regarded as a rival to Count Samuel. Where Samuel gave off a benevolent impression, Mateo radiated strictness, and that same quality was deeply reflected in his swordsmanship.
“Luciel, I’ve been watching your sword since the round of thirty-two.”
After the herald’s usual fanfare and introductions, just before the match began, Mateo addressed Arthur in a stern, dignified voice, his face expressionless.
“You possess remarkable talent. So much so that it’s hard to believe your apparent age.”
Count Mateo was a symbolic figure among the continent’s swordsmen. He perfectly embodied every trait of the swordsman class, making him something of a living textbook of orthodox technique. Many swordsmen had tried to imitate his style—including Arthur.
“But talent alone is not enough. Your sword cannot even be called a sword. It is nothing more than trickery.”
The idol from whom Arthur had once learned the sword now denied her new blade.
‘Trickery…!’
Thump, thump, thump. Mateo’s merciless assessment sent Arthur’s tension—barely calmed by Geum Taeyang’s efforts—surging back up, making her heart pound violently.
“This Mateo’s sword will carve away your trickery.”
Whoosh…!!!
Mateo settled into his stance. With a brilliant flash, the second semifinal began, and he charged at Arthur with terrifying speed.
“Count Mateo looks quite angry, Sword Empress.”
“Given his temperament, that’s understandable. Two young swordsmen have reached the semifinals, and neither of them follows orthodox methods.”
“Didn’t Count Mateo once criticize even you for not being orthodox, Sword Empress?”
“So Your Majesty remembers. His criticism of me continues to this day.”
Among the many traits of the swordsman class, one of the most notorious was its rigid pride. With the deepest history and recognized as the continent’s premier warrior class, it naturally attracted many old-timers. Recently, practical swordsmanship focused on real combat had begun to gain attention, and the old guard’s view of it was far from favorable. Mateo intended to use this semifinal—and the final—as his judgment on that trend.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!!
The orthodox sword of the old guard was almost entirely linear. True to form, Mateo unleashed a barrage of powerful charging attacks. In contrast, Arthur evaded and deflected them with fluid backsteps and sidesteps.
“No! That is not it! Such running about is not the sword of a true swordsman!”
Mateo was visibly displeased by Arthur’s evasive footwork and the techniques that followed it. While the Sword Empress and practitioners of practical swordsmanship emphasized the unity of offense and defense, orthodox swordsmanship kept them strictly separate—because for a swordsman or knight, presence and momentum were paramount.
‘I heard those words so often my ears bled…’
Especially Arthur, who had grown up hearing that philosophy repeated like brainwashing.
[No, Arthur! That is something only a girl would do! Do you wish to become a girl? To live as the woman you were born to be?]
Those were the words of her mad grandfather, Charles Luciel Elias. The deranged man who had insisted on raising his granddaughter as a boy had, from the very beginning, pointed her toward the sword of an adult man. Whenever the clever Arthur devised techniques to compensate for her lack of strength, he would bellow at her until she shrank in shame.
[You weakling! How do you expect to draw Excalibur with such a pathetic sword? Only a man can draw Excalibur! Use a man’s sword! That is what Excalibur demands!]
Because of this, one belief had been carved into Arthur’s mind: a woman’s life was a weak life. A man’s sword must always advance and fight head-on. That was why, whenever anyone saw through her femininity, Arthur Luciel Elias reacted as though she had an allergy.
‘Fear…’
It was fear. Fear that something weak existed within her.
‘But if you look deeper, it’s fear of femininity itself, isn’t it?’
Geum Taeyang watched Arthur, who had entered a state of extreme focus while receiving Mateo’s attacks, and seemed to read her psychological state. The mental pressure she was under now was the same one Arthur experienced in the original World Conquest Record. In the original timeline, after reaching the round of eight and gaining confidence, she would seek out Mateo—her original role model—for a sparring match, and there she would undergo this exact psychological upheaval.
‘In the end, it’s all trauma from her grandfather, Charles Luciel Elias.’
Whenever she tried to break away from the old swordsmanship, her defensive mechanisms activated and she froze. On the surface it seemed to stem from the belief that femininity was weakness, but the true core was Charles’s gaslighting trauma.
‘Even Arthur herself began to notice an inexplicable rejection within her heart after entering the round of eight of the Sword Dance Festival. And she realized that her ultimate obstacle was none other than Charles. That’s why she sought out Mateo, the person who could most perfectly stand in for him.’
Having seen the potential of her newly acquired swordsmanship in the festival, Arthur threw herself into real combat even more. There she discovered how severely she shrank when crossing blades with upright, orthodox swordsmen. After countless moments of self-reflection, the original story had her seeking out Mateo to resolve this issue.
‘But because of me, Arthur is undergoing compressed growth. She gained confidence in her sword by breaking through the round of eight, and now she’s facing Mateo in the semifinals. She must be feeling it instinctively by now.’
In other words, the sequence had reversed: instead of seeking Mateo to overcome her trauma, she was now being forced to confront the existence of that trauma because of Mateo. If so, Arthur had to find the key to overcoming it in this brief moment.
‘My body is freezing… From that gaze… That voice… I’ve turned back into the girl I was over ten years ago…’
Sure enough, in Arthur’s eyes, Mateo overlapped with her grandfather Charles, and she was struggling under the weight of her severe trauma.
“Hmm… Inspector Luciel appears extremely withdrawn. Count Mateo is strong, but I didn’t expect the match to become this one-sided.”
Having been the only female swordsman to reach the semifinals across three consecutive tournaments, Emperor Antoinette had high expectations for Arthur and had been watching her closely. No matter the opponent, she had never become this visibly diminished before.
“It seems she is experiencing not simple tension, but severe internal conflict, Your Majesty. Though I cannot say why.”
“Internal conflict…”
She was withdrawn, but not rigid. She was distracted. And the Sword Empress had seen such distracted movements many times before—especially in her disciple Josephina, before Geum Taeyang corrected her.
‘The seed of overcoming has already been planted in you, Arthur.’
Yet Geum Taeyang remained certain. Arthur would reach the finals. Having already seen the bracket from the round of sixteen onward, he had predicted this exact development. He also knew that Arthur would overcome Charles’s trauma even without being fully prepared.
[I killed my foster father and violated my foster mother to protect my own people, Arthur.]
The seed of overcoming—it was none other than Geum Taeyang, the new object of Arthur’s admiration.
‘That’s right. How long do you intend to remain a little girl, Arthur?’
Charles’s trauma had kept Arthur’s heart trapped as that of a ten-year-old girl even after she became an adult. She had only been pretending to be strong. Through Mateo, Arthur had come face-to-face with the depth of her trauma and finally acknowledged that she had been carrying the heart of that little girl all along.
‘Raise your sword and thrust it forward. Shatter your grandfather’s illusion and complete your own sword, Arthur!’
Flash—!
Recalling Geum Taeyang’s raw, painful confession, Arthur’s eyes gleamed as she confronted her true self. At the same time, her heroic sword Elias blazed with light.