Two people were already standing on the hill.
Miryeong and Muryeong.
It was a little late to call it morning.
In the air, where the scent of night had yet to fade, the wind swept across the hill.
The grave was simple.
A few stones piled together,
and a single wooden plank planted in front.
It was an untrimmed board.
The marks of having been cut in haste still remained.
And words were written upon it.
Miryeong stood before it for a long while without moving.
Muryeong was watching the grave from a short distance away.
Neither of them
bothered to confirm the words written on that wooden plank.
As if they were trying not to see them,
they did not look at it for long.
Miryeong kept her gaze beneath the board.
The dirt caught between the stones,
the footprints left upon it.
It was enough to tell how many people had come all the way here yesterday.
Muryeong stood with his arms crossed, facing the wind.
His expression was no different from usual.
But his gaze did not easily fall away.
A long time passed.
Who had arrived first,
or how long they had been there, did not matter.
Right now, the fact that they were standing here was everything.
The wind brushed the hill once more.
The wooden plank swayed lightly.
It made no sound.
And so Miryeong did not raise her head.
Muryeong did not move either.
There was no need to speak yet.
Footsteps sounded from below the hill.
A moment later,
the group slowly came into view.
No one spoke.
Miryeong and Muryeong were already there.
Rangnan looked at the wooden plank placed before the grave.
He lowered his gaze for a moment, then spoke in a low voice.
“Melanie.”
The sound of her name scattered briefly on the wind.
Rangnan slowly read the words written on the wooden plank.
“We remember you.”
After finishing, he bowed his head.
It was not a formal courtesy.
It was a short,
clear bow.
Then he raised his head again and added quietly.
“May you rest eternally in the arms of the Moon Mother.”
Those words lingered for a moment atop the hill.
Muryeong stepped forward.
Looking down at the grave, he neither bowed his head
nor looked to the sky.
He simply spoke shortly toward the front.
“May you stand beside the Dragon God.”
That one line was enough.
Miryeong stood beside Muryeong.
Very softly,
almost like a breath, she murmured.
“...Beside the Dragon God.”
Aslo stepped forward.
He brought the hand holding his sword to his chest and bowed his head.
“May that path not be the end.”
Mendel silently bowed in the same direction.
Erdin followed after him and lowered his head as well.
Bido stood a little apart.
After gazing at the grave for a while, he slowly stepped forward.
He stood before the wooden plank and looked at the words.
Bido steadied his breath for a moment and spoke quietly.
“We...”
His words cut off briefly.
Bido drew in another breath.
“We will remember you.”
Those words were neither a prayer
nor an oath.
They were simply the declaration of one who remained.
The wind brushed over the hill,
and the wooden plank swayed quietly.
No one tried to hold on to that sound.
The mourning ended like that.
Muryeong was the first to turn his head.
It was an exceedingly small movement.
But that was enough.
Where his gaze fell, a person stood.
Below the hill,
in a place the wind did not reach as strongly.
Silver armor.
It was the Empire’s silver armor, fitted neatly to the body with its shine subdued.
A rapier hung at her waist,
but her hand did not go toward it.
Lina was holding a sword with both hands.
A sword wrapped in chains.
It had belonged to Melanie.
She was not holding it carelessly, as she had in battle.
With both hands,
carefully.
As though carrying something that must not be dropped.
There was no fighting spirit in that figure.
No challenge, no wariness,
no threat.
Instead, there was the posture of someone observing proper form.
Following Muryeong’s gaze, the others raised their heads one by one.
Miryeong, Aslo,
Mendel and Erdin.
And
Bido as well.
Everyone looked at Lina.
Lina did not avoid their gazes.
But she did not come a single step closer.
She simply remained where she was and bowed her head for a moment.
It was a knight’s greeting.
Very brief,
at a precise angle.
Then, without a word, she raised her head again.
The sword in her hands was still wrapped in chains.
As if making clear that the sword was not a trace of battle, but something that had belonged to a warrior.
The wind brushed past the edges of the silver armor.
Lina did not speak.
Because, right now, her reason for standing here was clearer than any words.
Miryeong looked at Lina.
At that moment,
the surrounding air changed.
As though the wind atop the hill were surging in one direction, it wrapped around Miryeong’s body.
Her hair whipped up violently,
and the hem of her clothes struck her skin with sharp sounds.
Dust burst up from beneath Miryeong’s feet.
“You...”
Her voice cracked.
With her teeth clenched hard,
her jaw trembled as though it might shatter.
“You bitch...”
The end of her words was crushed.
Miryeong’s gaze pierced through Lina.
It was the look of someone ready to lunge at any moment.
“How dare you come—”
The wind surged even harder.
At that moment,
Muryeong’s hand firmly seized Miryeong’s shoulder.
“Miryeong.”
A short, resolute voice.
Muryeong’s strength pulled Miryeong back.
Miryeong’s body shuddered once, violently—
but she could go no farther.
The wind had grown fierce in an instant,
and though it had not completely vanished, it circled around Miryeong still.
Lina did not look away from the sight.
No strength entered the hands holding the sword either.
She slowly bent down.
Then she carefully set the chain-wrapped sword she had been holding with both hands onto the ground.
The sound of metal touching stone rang out low.
Lina spoke with her head raised.
“I did not come to fight.”
Her voice was calm.
“I came only to pay my respects to one who fought honorably.”
Those words remained briefly atop the hill.
The wind passed between them for a moment.
Lina’s gaze moved away from Miryeong.
The wind was still circling around Miryeong,
but Lina was looking at something else.
The black-haired girl.
And
the sword hanging on her back.
Its form was exposed as it was, concealing neither decoration
nor symbol.
Lina’s eyes narrowed slightly.
At that moment,
the words Adel had repeated so insistently flashed through her mind.
A black-haired girl.
Moving together with the sacred relic.
Lina was not looking at Miryeong, but at Bido.
Then she said quietly.
“It’s you.”
It was not a declaration of certainty.
It was simply words that fixed the target in place.
Bido could say nothing.
He stood there, unable to look away
or meet her gaze.
Lina’s gaze lowered once again to the sword on Bido’s back.
The sword’s length,
its balance,
the strangely dissonant presence it held.
“...The sacred relic.”
It was a low voice, closer to a mutter.
Lina took one step back.
It was not a retreat to avoid battle,
but a movement to measure distance precisely.
“Now, it is clear.”
Bido could give no answer to those words.
Lina turned and added briefly.
“We will meet again soon.”
It was neither a promise nor a threat.
She was merely stating an unavoidable fact.
Lina slowly descended the hill.
Her silver armor caught the sunlight and gleamed for a moment,
then soon disappeared from sight.
Even after Lina’s figure had vanished completely below the hill,
Miryeong stood there for a long while.
The wind had already died down,
but Miryeong’s body was still rigid with tension.
Her clenched fist trembled.
Her jaw was locked tight, teeth gritted.
She was furious.
Furious that it had been too late,
and that she had been unable to hold on to anything.
“Lady Miryeong.”
A cautious voice came from behind.
It was Mendel.
Miryeong did not turn her head.
“I know.”
It was a short reply.
As if she already knew what Mendel was about to say.
Mendel did not come any closer.
Because he had seen Miryeong’s shoulders trembling ever so slightly.
After a brief silence,
Rangnan opened his mouth.
“Let’s go back.”
His voice was low and calm.
It was neither an order
nor a suggestion.
It was a conclusion that there was no reason to remain here any longer.
No one objected.
Miryeong looked at the grave one last time.
The wooden plank, the stones.
And
the wind brushing over them.
Without saying a word, Miryeong turned around.
The group slowly began to turn away.
Rangnan was the first to step down the hill,
and Aslo and Mendel,
then Erdin, followed after him.
No one looked back.
Bido stopped one beat late.
The chain-wrapped sword Lina had left behind was still there.
The chains swayed faintly in the wind.
Bido looked at the sword for a moment,
then carefully approached it.
Without haste,
without rushing.
He lifted the sword with both hands.
Its weight settled into his palms.
Bido walked to the front of the grave and set the sword down beside the wooden plank,
in a place where the stones would not collapse.
The chains touched the stones with a small sound.
Even after letting go, Bido remained standing there for a moment.
He slowly read the words written on the wooden plank once more.
It was a short sentence.
But the meaning contained within it was not light.
Without saying anything, Bido turned around.
That was when it came.
Very softly,
a voice nearly buried in the wind.
“...Thank you.”
It was Miryeong.
Bido did not turn his head.
Nor did he answer.
But the moment he took a step,
his movements became a little more careful.
On the hill remained only a small grave, a sword wrapped in chains,
and the wind.
And
within the people who had left that place, memories remained in their own ways.