The Will Embraced Within Your Sword
Hanna stood alone in the training ground, eyes closed, lost in thought. For the first time, she calmly reflected on the will she had poured into her sword up to now.
I don't know.
Ricardo had told her it was okay to harbor selfish desires. Fragmentary goals for success were fine, but he said she could indulge in endless greed too.
—If you start wielding the sword with a purpose, doesn't it feel a bit bland? I'm the type who achieves things too quickly, you see. Ah, was that too obnoxious?
It had definitely been obnoxious, but Hanna could accept Ricardo's words. The butler had always kept every promise he'd made. That's why she could trust him, and believe his advice was the right answer.
My sword...
Hanna had swung her sword simply for recognition. To carry on her family's honor, and to earn her father's approval—that's why she'd taken up the blade. Stubbornly gripping it, waiting for the day his warm hand would one day stroke her hair. Without knowing anything about swords. Without her family's support, just beating training dummies with the wooden sword she'd received as a child, honing her skills. That was the reason she had to swing her sword.
In an endless path of wandering, it was the purpose imposed on her—a shepherd's verdict guiding the flock. She had only one choice, so she nodded and obeyed. She believed it was the only way to find happiness. She thought proving her existence lay solely in the sword.
Then her dream crumbled, only for an extension of it to begin: her father's recognition. A conclusion that would come someday. It could be today. Or thirty years from now. A goal with a clear end.
But thinking it over again, she doubted it would be a true happy ending. A sword for others. Even she felt that starting for someone else's sake wouldn't lead to a good path. Maybe after earning her father's approval, she'd burn out like someone without purpose. Satisfied with achievement, she'd abandon further growth. She'd whine to the butler, spending all her remaining time with him. That might bring happiness, but it wasn't the ending she wanted.
Hanna craved recognition. As a swordswoman. As a person. From her father, through the sword. From her benefactor, as a disciple worthy of trust. She wanted to be someone who eased his mind, just as seeing his face calmed hers.
Hanna closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Slowly, she drew her sword. Not imitating the butler, but focusing on her own true heart. After countless hours of agonizing and practicing wrong answers, her conclusion from the notebook of mistakes was to find her own sword.
She knew she couldn't follow in his footsteps. She wasn't strong enough to peer into that bottomless abyss. She knew she fell short even of superficial imitation.
So Hanna thought: Let's infuse my sword with my own original greed.
She wanted to be someone he could rely on. Someone precious to him. She wanted to cut down everyone who threatened him. That would be her repayment for his grace... no, her own desire.
A bit cowardly, perhaps, but she wanted to stand by Ricardo's side, to envision a future with him, and pour that into her sword. She wanted to be together. Not as a burden, but as a growing swordswoman—and as a woman by his side.
Hanna infused her sword with her greed.
I want it.
A happy daily life. His attention.
I'm tired of compromising.
Giving up something for her father, hiding her feelings under the weight of duty—she was exhausted by it all. Of course, the principal wife's position followed order by rights, but she wouldn't yield the second place to anyone.
So.
Hanna infused her sword with her greed.
I'll have it all.
That selfish avarice. And the violence to shatter everything hindering Ricardo.
She swung.
—Slash.
A gut instinct of achievement hit her, followed by the familiar ding.
[Q. The Evil Woman Hanna Histania's First Love.]
In the story you don't know, you were the one receiving Ricardo's affection.
In that tale, you became Ricardo's protagonist.
Ricardo became your butler. Amid your family's hardships, you slowly rise with his help as your foothold.
Of course, along the way, you hurt him with words like, "What would a wretch like you know? Don't tell me what to do."
But he stayed by your side, whispering hope.
The ending of that story... no one knows.
(!) Win the duel against Mikhail.
Reward: Access to Side Story 41: The Evil Woman Hanna Histania's First Love.
One more reason to win.
Mikhail raised his sword.
No matter how many times he thought it over.
To find the reason he couldn't reach it. To understand the purpose behind his swings, and the mindset he needed.
Mikhail couldn't grasp it. But he already knew the answer.
To protect the innocent from villains like Ricardo. That was his conclusion, the purpose of his sword.
Yet his heart kept wavering. An ominous intuition whispered that the foundation itself was flawed. He couldn't pinpoint the source of that fundamental disconnect.
The reason he'd first taken up the sword was because of a certain boy.
The one he'd admired most. Perhaps even loved.
Because of that boy, Mikhail had picked up a sword.
—Why'd you take the hit for me?
—Kid, you're weak.
—I'm not weak.
—Oh yeah?
The day thugs stole the bear doll his mom had bought him. The boy had stood like a hero with a wooden sword, protecting him. Blood trickling from his nose, he snorted it away with a grin, just like a prince from a fairy tale.
So cool. The sight of that boy swinging his sword to protect someone.
I want to be like that. I want to protect someone too.
The boy had said then:
—We protect the weak because they are weak.
—...And if I get stronger?
—Pfft! No way that'll happen, even if you die. Even if I don't want to, I'll have to protect you.
Just wait... I'll be the strongest by the end...Yeah! So when that happens, you protect me.
—Me protect you?
—Yeah. No matter what, I'll protect you until you're weaker than me.
—Really?
—Yeah. But you have to keep your promise too.
—What promise?
—That when you're stronger than me, you'll protect me.
That day, he'd gripped a wooden sword for the first time. Faintly, he remembered smiling as he held the one the boy left behind. It had been fun. The idea that he, who always needed saving, could protect someone—it filled him with joy and anticipation.
He dreamed of the day he'd protect the boy, secretly swinging under the bridge.
I want to protect the weak. That resolve hadn't changed. To right the weak's grievances and show them hope—that was what the boy wanted, the burden he had to carry.
So... he'd grow stronger.
Rowen watched Mikhail's sword with intrigued eyes.
"Hoo..."
The aura flowing from Mikhail was pure, yet laced with violence unlike before. Watching the gently rippling waves of aura, Rowen fell silent, observing his protégé's epiphany. Mikhail closed his eyes and swung.
—Slash.
Then, a ding rang in Mikhail's ears too.
A devilish temptation, an impulsive offer he couldn't refuse, veiled his vision.
A quest has occurred.
[Q. The Reason You Wield Your Sword.]
Long ago, you had a friend. A precious comrade you sent away with your own hands.
By someone's scheme, you were cursed to not recognize him, but you cherish memories of a spring-like existence.
Memories. Very old ones.
Your unspeakable misdeeds and the weight of the burden you carry fly at you like arrows.
That boy you long for so much... he might still be alive. Despite the pain, persecution, and injustice you caused him, he didn't hate you. Well, who knows if he's alive.
(!) Win the duel against Hanna.
Reward: Access to Side Story 15: The Secret of the Day You Abandoned Him.
One more reason to win.
A peaceful afternoon.
I walked the capital's streets with a smile.
"What talisman should I buy?"
I didn't believe in superstitions, but having one gave strength, so I smiled and headed toward the shops.
Passing by, I spotted a good-luck charm in front of a store: four-leaf clover earrings symbolizing fortune.
Smiling, I decided on the gift and slowly entered the shop.
And then.
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
[Q. Mikhail's Protector.]
· · ·
Reward: Access to Side Story 16: The Danger of Truth.
Let's put it off a little longer.