Even after Rangnan finished speaking, no one moved right away.
The box was still there,
and the problem had not disappeared simply because he had stopped talking.
Even the sound of someone trying to steady their breathing was cautious.
Miryeong was the first to turn her gaze.
Not from the box, but from Rangnan.
“Then.”
It was a short word.
“So what are we supposed to do?”
Rangnan did not answer immediately.
The silence of a man who had already stopped once was heavier.
Erdin filled the gap.
“Then such a dangerous object,”
“why did you allow Bido to carry it while moving?”
Miryeong nodded.
“Exactly. And on top of that, the Empire was already on our heels.”
She glanced at the box.
“And why, exactly, is the Empire chasing that thing?”
At those words, the air in the room tightened again.
Aslo spoke for the first time.
“In the end, the Empire found out. What that sword is for.”
Rangnan’s gaze shifted to Aslo for a moment.
Aslo finished speaking, but no one immediately asked the next question.
What it was for.
That single phrase remained in the room.
Its meaning was clearly heavy,
but no one could pinpoint it exactly.
Miryeong clicked her tongue.
“Ah, seriously.”
She pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning against.
Her expression was openly irritated.
“Fine. I get that it’s dangerous.”
“And it seems like there’s a reason the Empire is so persistent.”
Her gaze brushed past the box.
“But no one is telling us anything.”
Once at Rangnan,
once at Aslo.
Miryeong looked back and forth between the two of them.
“I get that you can’t tell us,”
“and I get that now isn’t the time.”
She let out a sigh.
“So what can we do right now?”
The two of them only remained silent.
In the end, Miryeong spat out the words.
“We can just destroy it.”
It was neither a plan nor a suggestion.
It was simply a remark that burst out before her frustration could be contained.
“If it’s that dangerous, can’t we just get rid of it?”
The air in the room froze for an instant.
Erdin was the first to react.
“Lady Miryeong.”
He called out as if to stop her, but Miryeong did not avert her gaze.
“No, listen. Carrying it around is even more dangerous, isn’t it?”
She pointed at the box.
“If that thing is the problem, then getting rid of it is the surest solution, isn’t it?”
After those words fell, no one refuted her right away this time.
That silence only made the problem more stifling.
Aslo spoke in a low voice.
“If it could be destroyed, we would have done so long ago.”
Miryeong’s brow furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
Aslo chose his words for a moment,
then answered briefly.
“That is not a simple weapon.”
He looked at the box.
“It is closer to a body.”
The moment those words fell, the air in the room sank another level.
“The body of a dragon.”
“And one... close to divine grade, at that.”
Miryeong drew in a breath a beat late.
“...Are you joking?”
Aslo did not shake his head.
“That is why it cannot be destroyed.”
A brief silence followed.
Even after Aslo spoke, no one could immediately continue.
Because more than the conclusion that it could not be destroyed,
the reason for it lingered heavily in the room.
Miryeong moved first.
“Honestly, this is way too frustrating when it’s all just words.”
Saying that, she approached the box.
Before anyone had the chance to stop her, her hand moved first.
And the moment she opened the lid and grasped the sword’s hilt,
Miryeong’s expression immediately hardened.
There was no sound, no light.
But the sensation rising through her fingertips was clearly different.
Rather than cold or hot, it was closer to an alien emotion made tangible.
“......”
Miryeong gritted her teeth, then immediately let go.
“What the hell is this?”
She spoke shortly.
“I don’t know what it is, but it’s strange.”
It was irritation, but it was not a joke.
And Miryeong took a step back.
Then she turned her head at once.
“Muryeong.”
“You try holding it.”
Muryeong hesitated for a moment, but nodded.
It was the attitude of someone already accustomed to handling dragon weapons.
He carefully grasped the sword.
In that instant,
Muryeong’s eyes narrowed.
This time as well, there was no outward change.
However, Muryeong clearly felt the sword’s power flowing into him.
It was an unpleasant sensation, as if the rules of the surroundings were being pulled in one direction.
Muryeong immediately let go.
“...What in the world is this?”
He spoke briefly.
“Its will is strong. It’s a beast.”
At those words, the air in the room sank once more.
Rangnan, who had remained silent until then, looked at Bido.
After a very brief silence.
“Bido.”
He called only his name.
There was no explanation, no command.
“You try holding it.”
Bido faltered for a moment.
His gaze naturally moved toward the sword.
No one urged him on, and no one stopped him.
The choice had fallen entirely to Bido.
Bido slowly approached the box and reached out.
The moment he grasped the sword,
his breath came in a beat late.
It was clearly dangerous.
An overwhelming power seemed to climb up through his fingertips.
Rather than weight, it felt closer to an existence itself pressing in on him.
It was not testing his will, nor was it speaking to him.
It merely tried to flow in.
Bido did not grit his teeth.
Nor did he try to flee.
It did not even feel as though he was enduring it.
But—
before long, that power subsided again.
That was all.
A moment later,
Bido quietly let go.
No one could speak immediately.
They had touched the same object,
but no one in the room could say they had experienced the same thing.
Rangnan said nothing.
But that silence carried a different weight from before.
When Bido let go,
Miryeong was the first to move.
“Hey.”
She looked straight at Bido and spoke.
“Are you okay?”
Her voice was lower than usual, with no hint of joking.
Bido looked down at his palm for a moment.
It seemed the sensation had not completely faded yet,
but he neither avoided it nor paused to catch his breath.
“...I’m fine.”
It was a short answer.
Miryeong looked as if she could not believe him,
but she did not press further.
Instead, she clicked her tongue once.
“That’s strange.”
At those words, Aslo spoke in a low voice.
“It was the same for me.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to him.
“When I retrieved that sword, I could not hold it for long.”
Aslo did not choose his words.
He spoke as though simply stating the facts.
“It was not a matter of strength.”
“And it was not something to be endured, either.”
Muryeong nodded.
“A dangerous power.”
Miryeong muttered with her arms crossed.
“Then isn’t that even stranger?”
She glanced at Bido.
“Why is he fine?”
The gazes in the room naturally gathered on Bido.
Bido did not avoid those gazes, but he had no answer to give.
Then Rangnan opened his mouth.
“There is no need to draw conclusions as you please.”
Everyone looked at him.
Rangnan was looking not at Bido, but at the box.
“Mirkin does not affect everyone in the same way.”
He raised his head and this time looked at Bido.
“And that child is especially so.”
That was the extent of the explanation.
Rangnan said no more.
He did not mention why, since when,
or what the reason might be.
Miryeong furrowed her brow.
“You’re the same as ever, saying only vague things.”
Rangnan did not answer.
Instead, he added briefly.
“For now, it is safest to look at the result rather than the reason.”
With those words, the conversation stopped for the time being.
It was not that an answer had been found.
Only that a name had been given to it, one they could attach for the moment.
Bido could feel that fact.
That his saying he was fine
was not enough to reassure anyone.
And that this sword, for now, was still demanding nothing of him.
Even so—
he could no longer deny the fact that the person left in this place was himself.
Miryeong looked at the box with her arms crossed and said,
“So. Those Imperial bastards are trying to take a dangerous thing like that, right?”
Aslo did not answer immediately.
Instead, Rangnan took the words.
“The Empire has a plan. And that sword is necessary for that plan.”
“In the end, they will try to get their hands on it no matter what.”
Rangnan’s gaze did not leave the box.
Muryeong spoke in a low voice.
“Without knowing that danger.”
Rangnan nodded.
“Or else, even if they know, they believe they can handle it.”
Miryeong murmured quietly.
“Right. Then what happens if that thing falls into the Empire’s hands?”
Rangnan answered briefly.
“Then it is over.”
It was a short, decisive statement.
But he soon added,
“However, for the immediate future, that is not all.”
Everyone’s gaze turned to him again.
“If the one who tries to wield that sword cannot withstand its power.”
Rangnan stopped speaking.
The next sentence did not need to be explained.
That someone could repeat that tragedy of the past.
And that the result could bring down far more than a single sword.
“The Empire believes it can retrieve it.”
Rangnan’s voice was low.
“And that certainty is the most dangerous thing.”
He said no more.
Silence settled over the room again.
But this silence was no longer one waiting for an answer.
Because everyone could feel what was already approaching.
Bido looked at the box without a word.
Why this sword had been entrusted to him,
he still could not fully understand.
But one thing was clear.
He could no longer escape the choices surrounding this sword.