The sword in Bido’s hand came down again.
With it rang the sharp sound of feet kicking off the ground.
The blade lunged straight toward Erdin.
Its trajectory—
was nothing like the swordsmanship Bido had shown until now.
There was no restraint,
no breath.
It did not flow.
It simply poured forth.
Moonlight slid along the blade,
and each time that light bent,
the “distance” before Erdin’s eyes was cut away.
Until now, Bido had always come in after taking a breath, one beat behind.
This time, there was no such breath.
The sound of her toes striking the dirt came late.
What reached him first was the wind,
then the blade.
Only last came the person.
A chill ran down Erdin’s spine at the sensation of that order being overturned.
It was violent and direct.
And yet, strangely fast and precise.
Dust rose into the moonlight.
Erdin swallowed his breath.
The sound rang out unusually loud.
Erdin thought he had to dodge.
And his body tried to react first.
But,
the wound in his thigh throbbed as if burned by fire.
His foot would not obey.
His balance collapsed.
“Erdin!”
Mendel’s cry flew in.
The river rippled for an instant.
Mendel rushed forward as if throwing herself into the path.
She seized Erdin by the shoulder and pulled him to her side.
And in that moment—
Bido’s sword grazed past.
The sound of cloth splitting.
The sound of metal scraping.
And,
the sound of flesh being cut.
Bido’s sword carved a deep line across Mendel’s back.
Red scattered through the air.
Blood sprayed out,
and a few drops touched Bido’s cheek.
It was warm.
That warmth was even clearer beneath the moonlight.
Mendel’s blood carried its scent quickly.
Not the smell of fish,
but a hot scent mixed with wet iron.
Each time that smell brushed the tip of Bido’s nose,
the words “must protect” swelled larger and larger in her head.
She heard the river settling.
Mendel’s breath broke.
“Kh—!”
Her body tilted forward.
Erdin turned and caught Mendel.
“Mendel!”
Mendel’s back was wet.
Her clothes had been split in a long line,
and beneath them, a vivid wound gaped open.
A red line crossing her back.
It was deep.
But it had not cut all the way through.
Even so, the flesh parted, and blood spread quickly.
Mendel’s hand gripped Erdin’s shoulder.
Her fingertips trembled.
“I’m... fine...”
That was what she said,
but her breathing was uneven.
The river surged for a moment,
then sank weakly.
Erdin’s eyes wavered.
Blood ran down over his hand.
“Why—”
The words did not end.
Beneath the moonlight,
Bido stood.
Her sword was still raised.
Mendel’s blood was smeared across her cheek.
Those eyes—
were fixed on them.
It seemed as though she was clearly seeing them.
—
It was warm.
The sensation running down her cheek.
A red scent.
Blood.
Mendel.
Must protect—
She had to protect.
The sword grew heavy.
No,
her hand grew heavy.
The shapes before her eyes wavered.
Erdin’s face.
Mendel’s shoulder.
The back stained with blood.
I—
Bido’s breath caught.
Something twisted inside her chest.
And the force pushing from within,
for a moment,
faltered.
But it did not stop completely.
The sword was still raised.
Her hand had not yet loosened.
—
Bido’s foot slid back just a little.
The tip of her sword trembled.
Her lips moved slightly.
“Grr... rr...”
A sound whose meaning could not be known leaked out.
It was a scraping noise from deep in her throat.
Bido’s breathing was uneven.
Then—
“Now...!”
A low, cracked voice.
The wind brushed past first.
The next instant,
Miryeong landed in front of Mendel.
Dirt scattered around her.
And facing Bido, Miryeong shouted.
“What are you doing!”
It was a short, harsh cry.
Bido’s head lifted very slowly.
Her yellow-stained eyes turned toward Miryeong.
Her pupils contracted faintly.
For a moment—
she seemed to stop.
But,
the sword rose again.
There was no hesitation in that movement.
“Bido, st—”
Before the words could end, the sword moved again.
Now the blade was aimed at Miryeong.
There was no hesitation.
Straight and fast.
Miryeong’s eyes narrowed.
“Tch.”
She clicked her tongue briefly.
And just before the blade touched her,
she lightly twisted her body aside.
Miryeong’s hand deflected the trajectory of the sword as if letting it flow away.
She did not strike back hard.
Yet Bido’s body swayed violently.
Losing her balance, her body spun as if turning once around.
Her foot scraped the dirt.
At a glance, it seemed she had lost her center.
But—
only for a moment.
The tip of the sword lowered again.
Bido’s foot found the ground once more.
Her breathing was rough.
Her eyes still shone yellow,
and her stance settled again.
Lower,
more aggressive.
Bido swung her sword again.
Miryeong clenched her teeth for an instant.
She did not dodge.
Instead, she read the sword’s path.
Lowering her body, she twisted that trajectory aside.
Wind wrapped around Miryeong’s hand.
And—
with that hand, she caught the blade.
With the sound of flesh splitting,
a red line ran down her palm.
But she did not let go.
Miryeong’s other hand seized Bido’s head.
Then she dragged her in roughly.
Their foreheads collided.
Bido’s yellow eyes shook.
“Bido.”
Briefly.
“Look at me.”
Their breaths mingled.
“Come to your senses.”
Their breaths collided at an extremely close distance.
A short heat spread from the place where Miryeong’s forehead touched hers.
Bido flinched once at that heat.
It felt not like a blade,
but like the warmth of a person touching something inside her first.
For that instant alone,
the force pushing forward lost its direction and wavered.
Miryeong did not let go of Bido’s head.
Her palm was wet.
Whether it was blood or sweat, she could not tell,
but if she let go, Bido would clearly return to being a “sword” again.
So Miryeong spoke lower,
and more firmly.
Once more.
“Bido.”
The moment her name settled like an anchor,
a very thin crack appeared in the boundary.
—
She was underwater.
No breath reached her.
Light wavered above.
Someone’s face drew close.
Miryeong.
Around them, red was spreading.
Mendel’s blood.
Must protect—
She had to protect.
But what Bido held in her hand now was heavy.
She had to let go.
But she could not.
Something inside her chest was still pushing forward.
Trying to hold on.
She had to hold on—
Then the light came closer.
“Bido.”
The sound cut through the water and entered.
The boundary,
split apart.
—
In Miryeong’s view,
Bido’s eyes began to change.
The yellow color spreading through them gradually faded.
As if diluted in water,
as if draining away beneath the moonlight.
And with it—
the pressure the sword had been driving forward weakened.
The force of the blade tearing into her palm
settled by the faintest degree.
Miryeong clenched her teeth and endured.
Soon, the tip of the sword began to tremble.
And then,
the red scales connecting Bido to the sword—
the red scales that had sprouted over her skin and joined to the blade,
hanging there as thin as a boundary—
began to crack,
and fine fractures spread.
They split apart.
Miryeong pulled Bido’s face closer.
“Hey. Bido.”
Her voice was mixed with breath.
“Look at me properly.”
Within Miryeong’s hands,
Bido’s eyes slowly returned.
The yellow light faded,
and at last, her original color seeped back in.
“Miryeong...”
Her lips trembled.
“I...”
The next words did not follow.
Crack—
The sound of something splitting.
The scales connected to the sword cracked and crumbled.
As if the sword had lost its strength, it slipped from her hand.
Thud.
Bido’s sword fell onto the dirt.
Her body tilted forward.
The strength drained out of her.
Miryeong quickly pulled Bido into her arms.
She was light.
Too light.
As if something that had been inside her had escaped.
For a moment,
no one spoke.
Only the moonlight pooled over the forest.
Miryeong let out a low breath.
“...Bido.”
And only then,
she added, very softly.
“It’s all right.”
In Miryeong’s arms, Bido’s breathing rose and fell slowly.
The moonlight seemed to have grown a little calmer.
“Lady Miryeong...”
Erdin called in a low voice.
His voice was cracked.
Blood was still seeping from the wound in his thigh.
Mendel struggled to raise herself.
She tried to steady her breathing,
but her back throbbed.
Even so, her gaze was fixed on Bido.
“Lady Bido... is she all right now...?”
Those words came before any concern for her own wound.
Erdin gripped Mendel’s shoulder.
“Don’t talk.”
Short and firm.
Then he raised his head again.
“Lady Miryeong.”
Still holding Bido, Miryeong turned to look.
In a brief instant, she swept over the situation.
Erdin’s leg.
Mendel’s back.
And the sword fallen on the dirt.
Beneath the moonlight,
the red traces that had not yet completely vanished.
The battlefield had ended,
but it was not over.
Miryeong’s eyes narrowed.
“Erdin.”
She called briefly.
“Stop the bleeding first.”
Then she held Bido close again.
The warmth in her arms still remained.
Miryeong slowly steadied her breath and laid Bido down on the ground.
Carefully.
As if she might shatter again if shaken even the slightest bit.
The sword lay beside her.
Catching the moonlight,
glowing quietly.
“This can’t go on...”
Miryeong murmured low.
At that moment—
a roar rang out in the distance.
The sound of metal clashing.
The sound of earth splitting.
Adel.
And the presences of three others were tangled together.
The battlefield was not yet finished.
Miryeong’s gaze pierced through the darkness.
Erdin clenched his teeth and lifted his head.
Mendel was enduring the pain as she steadied her breath.
“Stay here for a moment.”
Miryeong spoke briefly.
She did not wait for an answer.
The next instant,
her body moved first.
Wind rose.
Dirt scattered.
Miryeong’s shadow disappeared between the trees.
All that remained
was a girl collapsed beneath the moonlight and the scent of blood not yet gone cold.