Before Cedric’s eyes,
a black silhouette glided through the branches.
Fast.
But it was not the speed of someone fleeing.
As if—
it were telling him to come this way.
‘A lure, is it.’
Cedric did not hesitate.
He did not think of it as a trap to avoid, but simply as a path to break through.
His armor scraped against the branches with a grating sound.
At that sound, the beasts of the forest scattered.
At some point, the other presences vanished.
Adel, Kyle.
Voices, footsteps.
When it grew quiet behind him,
the forest suddenly seemed to widen.
Cedric swallowed a breath,
and drew his arms inward to lessen even the sound of his armor.
Even so, his feet did not stop.
All that remained was the shadow ahead—
and himself.
Soon, the shadow came to a stop.
Cedric also stopped at once and drew his sword.
Holding his breath, he took a step closer.
Beneath the hood, he thought he saw black hair—
“…Black hair?”
The shadow turned, roughly throwing back the hood of its cloak.
What scattered was not black hair.
It was hair as white as if it had caught the moonlight.
Miryeong said,
“Sorry it’s white.”
Cedric’s expression twisted.
“…White weasel.”
From inside her cloak, Miryeong dragged out a long piece of wood,
then tossed it at her feet.
It was a disguise made to look like the silhouette of a sword.
“Ha… I thought I was going to die running with this thing on my back.”
Cedric clenched his teeth.
“Take your stance. Today, we settle the match we left unfinished.”
Miryeong laughed.
The edge of her laughter was light, and irritating.
“A match? Your face looks fine right now, though.”
“Where did your priest go? I thought you’d be too anxious to come at me without him.”
Cedric’s temple throbbed.
Instead of answering, he drew up his Idrin.
His breath grew hot, and his muscles tightened hard.
Somewhere in the grass, small animals rustled as they fled in fright.
Miryeong innocently raised a palm.
“Oh.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
And then—
from the tips of Miryeong’s feet, the wind rose first.
Cedric’s blade trembled ever so slightly in his hand.
That day, the sword he had swung with amplified power.
And the crack left behind in that sword.
Cedric could not forget that sensation.
“This time…”
he muttered lowly.
His breath seethed, and his field of vision narrowed.
The wind rising from Miryeong’s toes flattened the blades of grass, creating a single path.
That path
seemed visible only to Cedric.
—
“White Wolf.”
The moment Adel spat out that name,
he could not hide the way his brow furrowed first.
In the middle of the forest path,
Muryeong stood blocking the way, axe in hand.
His feet were planted firmly, as though he had been waiting.
A simple declaration—
that he would not let him pass easily.
‘It must be part of the plan.’
Adel’s gaze swept once over the rear of the forest.
The presences of the others had grown distant.
Someone was buying time, and someone was fleeing.
But it did not matter.
He could not let them slip away again.
The target was the sword.
The black-haired girl.
If those two escaped the forest, there would be no excuse this time.
Adel slowly inhaled.
His fingers twitched once over his glove.
The memory of his shattered shoulder armor still remained beneath his skin.
That man—
was the only one who had ever torn through his armor.
He could not ignore him.
But there was no reason to fear him, either.
He only needed to crush him down with greater force.
Adel raised his sword and lowered his stance.
At that moment, a red aura spread along the edges of his eyes.
The air of the forest grew heavy in an instant.
“Move.”
Before the word had even ended,
Adel’s Idrin began to boil over as well.
Soon, as the red aura spread,
the surrounding air sank even lower.
Muryeong did not retreat a single step.
He merely turned the axe blade slightly,
and set it at the “center” of the path.
“What you’re looking for is probably over there.”
Muryeong spoke in a low voice.
“And that is exactly why,”
“this is not your path.”
The axe skimmed the ground, splitting fallen leaves in half.
Adel’s mouth twisted.
“You talk too much.”
—
Bido and Jincheong were running as though their lungs would tear apart.
Branches grazed their faces, and wet soil squelched beneath their feet.
Jincheong turned his head, panting.
“Bido. Go ahead.”
“I’ll stop him.”
Instead of answering, Bido clenched her teeth.
The strap of the sword on her back dug into her shoulder.
“No.”
“I can’t leave you behind, Jincheong.”
Jincheong swallowed a low curse.
“What are you talking about?”
“You saw him earlier. That holy knight… his eyes were completely gone.”
He cut off a breath and continued.
“If we keep running, he’ll catch up.”
“Before that happens, I’ll cut him off here.”
Bido stopped.
Jincheong, who stopped behind her, heaved his shoulders heavily.
Bido looked at Jincheong’s hand.
His fingertips were trembling faintly.
The hand that touched the earth now seemed uneasy even grasping at empty air.
“…How are you going to buy time with that hand?”
Jincheong briefly avoided her gaze,
then forced out a laugh.
“It’s fine.”
“Once or twice… I’ll manage somehow.”
Bido drew in a short breath.
If they could not run—
there was only one choice.
She gripped the hilt of the sword on her back.
“Then…”
Bido’s voice lowered.
“Make an opening.”
“Just once is enough. I have an idea.”
Jincheong’s eyes widened slightly.
But he could not argue.
He clenched his trembling hand into a fist as though to hold it still.
That was when it happened.
The forest behind them grew quiet.
The presence of beasts, even the sound of the wind—
seemed to stop for a moment.
And then, footsteps.
Steady, and heavy.
They were not the steps of someone running,
but of someone certain the chase was over.
Kyle appeared between the trees.
The dirt on his armor and the coldness in his eyes were revealed together.
He looked first at Bido’s sword.
Only then did he lift his gaze to her face.
“This is as far as you go.”
Kyle spoke lowly.
“Black-haired… girl.”
“That sword you’re holding must be the one Sir Adel is looking for.”
Then his gaze shifted to Jincheong.
In those eyes was a brief, sharp resentment.
“And you.”
“You’re that ‘earth ghost,’ aren’t you?”
“My supply unit… you ruined it.”
“Now, I will take repayment.”
Bido did not lower the sword to unfasten the strap.
Instead, she drew it out by the hilt just as it was.
When the longsword, with a blade that seemed made of bone, revealed itself,
Kyle’s gaze wavered for the briefest instant.
“An unusual sword…”
Kyle’s eyes went first to the sword in Bido’s hand.
And soon after, they moved to Jincheong’s fingertips.
They were trembling.
Not a hand that gripped the earth, but a hand merely holding on.
Without drawing his sword, Kyle said,
“Do not resist, girl.”
His voice was low and composed.
It was closer to a judgment than a threat.
“Put down the sword and go back.”
“Then I will not pursue you.”
His gaze remained on Bido’s face.
“You have committed no crime I would question you for.”
“I promise it on the honor of House Eberheim.”
Bido did not look away.
She did not move.
She merely tightened her grip on the hilt—
and lowered her stance further.
Kyle’s brow twitched ever so slightly.
“…Tormenting the weak is not a knight’s virtue.”
He took a breath, then continued.
“But avoiding a challenge once it has been offered is not the knight’s path, either.”
Kyle finally drew his sword.
The blade caught the light and flashed coldly.
“I will break you.”
“And then I will take it.”
“That sword.”
Bido slowly raised her sword.
Jincheong swallowed his breath.
And then—
Kyle took one quiet step closer.
“I do not wish to cut you down. So be wise.”
Bido did not answer.
Instead, she took one long breath.
And then—
her eyes began to stain red.
The moment Kyle saw that color, he instinctively retreated two steps.
It was only natural.
Mirkin was a power that became dangerous if one failed to be wary, no matter how weak the opponent appeared.
Kyle held the tip of his sword low and said,
“…Mirkin, is it.”
He did not attack immediately.
He merely waited for a moment.
To see whether the surrounding air would be pressed down, whether the blades of grass would bend,
or whether the girl’s movements themselves would change.
When facing Mirkin, the first thing one had to do was confirm “what changes.”
The skin beneath Bido’s eyes—
split ever so thinly, and red scales sprouted.
Kyle’s gaze locked onto that trace.
‘Enhancement type…? One that strengthens the self?’
It was a misjudgment.
Those scales were not the result of Mirkin.
They were the resonance the sword exhaled, as if breathing.
A thin trace that appeared when Bido matched her “grain” with the sword.
Without breaking the sword’s resonance,
Bido calmed her breath once.
Rather than her strength increasing,
the foreign sensation of her body falling slightly out of alignment rose first.
That misalignment,
Bido forcibly “aligned.”
And that alignment,
she extended toward Jincheong as well.
Jincheong’s trembling fingertips
stilled ever so slightly.
The sensation of touching soil returned, if only a little.
The “answer” of the earth that had grown distant
rose again beneath his palm.
Jincheong swallowed a breath.
“…Now?”
Bido said without looking away,
“An opening.”
“Just once is enough.”
Kyle could not read more from that brief change.
He was only certain of one thing.
‘That… is dangerous.’
Kyle lowered his stance.
The tip of his sword dropped as though it might graze the ground.
Bido raised her sword as well.
Jincheong’s hand descended toward the earth.
And then—
the air of the forest grew quiet once more.