It was a winter storm.
Asilia gritted her teeth and stared at the demon in front of her.
– Realizing my true nature, you’re quite perceptive.
Her Richard looked down at her with a smile as if he had rescued her from hell.
The moment they exchanged blows, Asilia realized.
That she had greatly underestimated Richard.
He was much stronger than she had anticipated.
At the same time, cruel.
– You are worthy of the title of Snowflake Swordmaster,
What stood before her was not human. A demon clad in human skin. From head to toe immersed in the Bloodstone Cult, there was no trace of humanity to be found in him.
– Klang! Kakang! Kagagagak!
Just blocking his sword swing made her arm feel as if it would fall off from the pain.
Ferocious.
Overwhelming strength.
She realized this wasn’t a situation to aim for a stalemate.
What was the Snowflake Swordmaster, and what was the First Sword of the North?
Asilia regretted her arrogance.
She was never strong enough.
Not even enough to secure a better future for the child.
– Asilia. Your mistakes are too grand.
– … Shut up.
– To pursue strength, one must have no qualms about anything.
– I said shut up. You filth.
– Even if it’s family, just like me who can devour anything to become stronger.
Gripping her trembling arm, Asilia unfolded the Snowflake Sword.
And.
– Interesting.
He barely managed to evade the snowflake she sent while smiling.
― Swish
Her back feels hot.
Richard’s arm, grotesquely twisted, slashes her back.
She sensed it immediately.
He deliberately avoided hitting vital points.
– I’m fortunate to have married you. I’ve got the chance to absorb you like this.
Because the blood flowing from her back filled the surroundings.
Her eyes turn red.
– Mom!
Her child’s voice was heard from afar.
A brief exchange between Richard and her.
– Did I not say?
– You didn’t. Please, spare the child…
– Even without saying, I intend to raise that child. Isn’t she both yours and mine?
– ……
– I wonder how strong she’ll grow. A child born from the blood of Richard and the Snowflake Swordmaster. Brace yourself. You might meet her when the time comes.
The Snowflake Swordmaster.
Sasha Asilia was absorbed by her husband like that.
◆
“I know a way out.”
Asilia, having said that, explained the method.
She had a plan she had been calmly preparing, and to realize it, she needed her disciple by her side.
Thus, the group split into two.
One side consisted of a reconnaissance team led by Yerina, including Danya and Lina.
And the other side was Asilia and Ian.
Ian didn’t bother to inquire about his master’s intentions.
“Disciple.”
“Yes, Master.”
“It’s burdensome when you stare at me like that.”
The master’s expression was calm and seemed natural.
Instead, over the course of several days, the master began to pass on her knowledge to him.
Ian, her disciple and proxy, practiced wielding the sword.
And then, at some point.
The master smiled.
“As expected of a disciple, your sword is upright.”
“Is it too simple?”
“No. That’s why I like it. Too many variations can be poison when infusing meaning into a sword. Your sword seems ready from the start.”
Originally, Ian was a mage.
From the most basic principles of swordsmanship, the teachings of the master continued through to the attributes. Fortunately, the experiences accumulated in close combat were helpful. Moreover, the master’s teachings were excellent.
“Now let’s delve deeper.”
When he reached a certain level, the master began to impart more profound teachings.
“Of course, how you hold the sword is important. But as you reach a certain level, what you hold it for becomes more important than how you hold it.”
The master’s voice gently echoed in the cave.
“Ian Blackangers. Why did you pick up the sword?”
The reason for wielding the sword.
It’s Ian himself, originally a mage, who coincidentally became the disciple of Snowflake Swordmaster Asilia and picked up the sword.
But that’s not the fundamental reason.
Why did he want to become the disciple of the Snowflake Swordmaster?
“To become stronger, and to resemble the vision of my master.”
“Good. That’s an honest reason.”
The master smiled.
At the same time, her hand approached.
Ian felt the gentle touch covering his eyelids.
“Shall we try becoming a tree with only ugly branches left in the dead of winter?”
Ian sensed it.
That she was imparting important teachings.
With closed eyes, he listened attentively to his master’s words.
“The way you hold the sword is akin to a tree shedding leaves to prepare for winter.”
In the position of a tree sacrificing something to protect.
“Winter arrives, bringing cold.”
Water starts to freeze.
Frost from the breath colors the surroundings white.
“Snow begins to accumulate on the branches.”
Where leaves should have been, now snowflakes pile up.
“Occasionally, snowflakes pile up like flower buds. From the perspective of the branch, it might seem bewildering, but think about the shape of snow. How do snow crystals grow?”
The process of snow formation ultimately parallels that of a tree. It’s a homogeneity of living and non-living and soon encompasses both human and nature.
“Amidst the cold, flowers begin to bloom. Snowflakes spread out and scatter.”
He felt the weight. Snowflakes, blooming profusely, pressed heavily on the branches. The weight of protecting something is so heavy.
“Let go. Letting go of what you cannot bear is also a part of nature.”
Endure.
Make an effort to protect what you want to protect as much as possible.
But the branch starts to bend involuntarily.
Because it cannot bear the weight of accumulating snow.
“The branch bows, and the snowflakes on it fall off.”
The falling snowflakes scattered chaotically.
The sight was so splendid that Ian quietly opened his eyes.
The master was softly holding his arm.
And the snowflakes that bloomed from Ian’s fingertips vanished, leaving traces on the floor and walls.
“… Incredible.”
With eyes widened in a circular shape, the master met Ian’s gaze.
“You’re a great vessel.”
She said with a voice mixed with admiration.
“Even if it was aided by my inner strength, to produce snowflakes from the beginning is indeed a remarkable talent.”
“You’ve raised your disciple well, Master.”
“Hmm. You’re confident too. I could proudly say I’ve raised a disciple like you anywhere.”
As Ian looked at his smiling master, he asked.
“… Were those just the fundamentals of Snowflake Sword Technique?”
“Yes, they were. However, you don’t need to remember each and every one of them. Swordsmanship is determined by the values you’ve lived by. These are just principles established here, so there must be another path suitable for you, Ian.”
Ian nodded quietly.
Although he managed to produce snowflakes, he hadn’t fully understood Snowflake Swords Technique. Not even a tenth of it. He needed to contemplate it repeatedly…
“Was the enlightenment sufficient?”
He turned his head at the somewhat rough voice.
Yerina was standing there, looking at him.
“I came to deliver a message, but ended up observing unintentionally.”
With that statement, Yerina smirked.
“I’m a little jealous.”
“… Jealous?”
“Yeah. If you had followed my original path, I would have tried to teach you a slightly more ruthless path. It’s a martial art that requires less thinking and is more efficient.”
Yerina also possesses the talent to acquire abilities equivalent to Snowflake Sword in the future. With her coldness and boldness, she will tread her own path.
The sight just now seemed to stimulate her pride.
“Grab your sword, Ian. I’ll teach you a lesson too.”
As soon as she finished speaking, Yerina rushed in menacingly.
◆
― Kaaah!
His hands feel numb.
No, not just numb. He feels like dropping the sword right away because of the pain.
‘Why all of a sudden?’
Without time to be surprised, Yerina’s eyes gleamed.
“You’re weak!”
Her mace swung straight at him.
Ian rolled back to avoid it.
― Puh-uk!
With a dull sound, the snow that had been lying on the ground rose up.
As if snowflakes were falling, the flakes began to descend.
‘Damn.’
Strong and fast.
“The snow is falling, so winter has come.”
The voice of his master reached him.
Teachings immediately came to mind.
Winter. When winter comes, the branches shed their leaves and prepare for the cold.
Ian relaxed his body.
― Shoooo!
Yerina’s mace narrowly missed him.
As tension eased, the opponent’s path became clear.
But still, Klang!
“Ouch.”
It still hurts just as much.
The weight of the mace presses down heavily on his arm.
‘…Ah.’
She said to drop it if it’s heavy.
But before that, wasn’t he supposed to feel the coldness?
When was he supposed to feel the chill?
Ian was confused.
There were too many confusing points to apply the Snowflake Sword he just learned.
“You think too much!”
Klang! Chang! Dr-r-rung!
Taking advantage of that moment, Yerina unleashed a torrent of attacks.
Strong. Straightforward. She never gives up.
It’s clearly the opposite of his master’s teachings. A martial art solely for overwhelming the opponent.
That’s why it’s strong.
How on earth should he deal with this?
“Can’t find a way, huh? Are you starting to doubt Asilia’s teachings now?”
Yerina shouted.
“It’s not doubt.”
“Then what is it?”
“This is…”
It’s not doubt about his master’s teachings.
Her teachings weren’t just about swordsmanship.
Snowflake Sword.
He didn’t learn that. It’s a more fundamental teaching.
‘… Embedding values into the sword.’
That was his master’s teaching.
Then what did she embed in her sword?
‘… Unity with nature, and maternal love.’
One of her values is maternal love.
Knowing she would lose to a powerful being, yet sacrificing herself in hopes of giving the child a better world.
Her strength comes from that.
Then what are my values?
What am I pursuing?
an gave one answer to that question.
‘… This world.’
He cursed the game countless times, but.
Ian liked this place.
Again and again, countless retries in this damn world.
If possible, he wanted to prevent its destruction.
Not just because he wanted to live, but because he wanted to.
― Kwaah!
Once again, Ian barely managed to block the descending mace.
He didn’t think he could hold out much longer.
Like a branch unable to withstand the weight, he let go of his arm’s strength.
The sword slid along with the mace.
In that moment.
A sword path was visible.
There wasn’t much thought behind it.
Just like painting along the lines, he wielded the sword.
From a distance, it looked like the branches swaying.
From the tip of the sword, something emerged.
It wasn’t as pure white as his Master’s.
Instead, flowers bloomed vigorously from the sword.
And poured out.
“Tsk!”
Yerina leaped to dodge.
― Suk.
Beyond Yerina, a diagonal crack appeared on the giant stalactite.
“……”
Silence followed.
The long crack diverged.
― Kuuuuuuung!
With a tremendous noise, the pillar-sized structure collapsed.
