Chapter 11
-intro
“Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.
Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.
Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.
Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.
Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.
Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.”
“Shut up….”
I was not in a good mood either.
“Hoo. How did I end up with such low-class….”
In a lavish private waiting room decorated with expensive imported marble and fine-grained wood, Carnelian began to air her grievances while tending to her silver sword. In other words, she was preparing to enter the royal match. I had forgotten for a moment, but the bothersome reality was waiting in which I had challenged a fellow named Kudro to a duel, meaning his Seal and Carnelian would have to fight a proxy duel. You could call it a royal match, but a tournament between Seals like this is nothing more and nothing less than a splendid spectacle for violence-prone humans. Not even a fairly large match attended by the King of Lisenborough was an exception.
“If you hate it that much, you could quit this kind of match right now.”
Julitan, who had been forcing herself to listen to the complaints, shot back bluntly. She too seemed unaccustomed to this unfamiliar and uncomfortable thing called a “duel.”
“Run away, you mean? Fool. If you flee from a duel, you’ll surely be branded a coward for generations. It won’t be me, but Master who’ll be pointed at. Geez. I should have just cut that Kudro or whatever fellow’s throat back then!”
“Was your previous master some simple-minded bandit chief? A Seal like you suits him perfectly, really….”
With an exhausted expression, Julitan looked around the waiting room. This was where Seals and their tamers prepared for the royal match. It was flashy enough to fit the “dignity of a knight,” but Julitan rather wanted to flee from this glittering extravagance.
“You know, people… have one big misconception about Seals. They think Seals like to fight. What do you think a Seal’s personality is like, Master?”
Carnelian said, brushing off the clothes she was wearing. The suit she currently wore, a mix of cloth and leather textures, had been prepared by the organizers for the royal match. Julitan didn’t know about the rest, but she thought the rather aggressive, provocative red costume suited Carnelian’s deep crimson eyes very well, though Carnelian’s expression said, Who cares anyway. Julitan pondered what she had said about a Seal’s personality before giving an ordinary answer.
“A Seal’s personality… I haven’t thought much about it? Well, maybe each Seal has a different personality. Like people.”
“A blank slate.”
“What?”
“A Seal’s original nature is a blank slate. Human personalities are projected onto it, and that’s how a Seal’s heart is formed. If Seals like to fight, it’s because humans like to fight.”
“Hmm….”
To Julitan, it sounded reasonable. But if human personalities had been imprinted on that “blank slate” over thousands of years, wouldn’t the sheer volume make it an incomprehensible personality? She thought that perhaps the form of a Seal was a mirror reflecting the human masses who had lived through countless generations. According to Carnelian, a Seal is a being that reincarnates repeatedly while retaining its memories, unable to forget them. Just like sediment continuously, continuously accumulating at the bottom of a lake. More than anything, Julitan wondered what kind of record she was leaving on Carnelian’s “blank slate.”
“All ready! Let’s fight quickly, win, and go home!”
Carnelian, who had unexpectedly been adjusting her clothes meticulously, stretched and shouted.
“But that sword of yours….”
Julitan stared intently at Carnelian’s sword, leaning against the table. She showed no attachment to anything, yet she always kept that silver longsword by her side for some reason. Anyway, for a sword wielded by a woman, it looked rather large and heavy (and perhaps because of that, she always carried it hugged in both arms), but it possessed a more beautiful, jewel-like, subtle radiance than any sword Julitan had ever seen. The wide blade was engraved with unknown characters that added to its mystique. Even to Julitan, who knew nothing of swords, it was clearly an extraordinary blade with a story behind it. And its strange charm was immense for a sword without a scabbard.
“What? My sword?”
“The blade is gone.”
Julitan had thought it was a mistake at first. Since the woman would obviously be furious if Julitan touched the sword she cherished so much, Julitan had only watched from the side, but no matter how she looked, the blade seemed to be entirely absent. Julitan was not a knight, but a chef. She knew that no matter how tender Peseter meat was, it couldn’t be cut with a knife lacking an edge. She had seen Carnelian cleanly slice through things with that sword many times, so she had thought it must have a terrifyingly sharp blade, but looking again and again, there was no glint of a blade.
“The blade, you say….”
Carnelian picked up her sword with a face that seemed ready to kindly explain, and continued.
“Master, where do you think the power to cut someone down comes from?”
Another cryptic question. Wouldn’t that strength come from shoulder power and the angle of the swing? Of course, assuming the blade is sharp.
“The power to cut someone lies in the heart of the one who cuts. If that heart is dull, no matter how strong your body or technique, at the crucial moment you won’t be able to cut even a thin twig. But if your own heart is sharp—sharper than your opponent’s heart… there’s nothing you can’t cut. The true sword lies within the heart, and one who holds such a sword can cut through another’s heart with a single word.”
For some reason, it sounded like the words of a warrior who had walked the path of an asura, and Julitan flinched slightly. Had anyone else said it, she might have dismissed it as mere rhetoric, but the way she spoke while gazing at her sword with eyes that had turned as clear as glass held a powerful persuasiveness.
“So… does that mean you have to live ruthlessly?”
“Tch. Then what was the point of me saying all that?”
Unlike her tone, her expression brightened. Really, there was no telling what her personality was like at this point.
“But surely it would be better to have the edge sharpened, right? No matter how sharp your heart is, you can’t cut a person with tofu or a cucumber.”
That was quite like Julitan.
“Why would you use tofu to cut a person, you idiot? And I prefer not having a blade.”
“Why?”
“This sword doesn’t have a scabbard. If it were sharp, I’d hurt my hand carrying it around. Besides, another characteristic of this sword is that, due to its material, it’s always cold, so hugging it to sleep on a hot summer night keeps me cool and in a good mood. Mmhmm.”
“….”
Since she often gave answers like that, leaving people feeling empty, Julitan didn’t even feel like getting angry anymore.
“Did I tell you this sword’s name?”
“What is it?”
“Mad Sword (狂劍) Mistral. This guy likes that name.”
How can a sword like anything? Whether because she was feeling a bit better after the conversation, she left the waiting room humming. At that moment, something brushed strongly against Julitan’s head.
‘Then how did my hand….’
Julitan looked at the palm of her hand, where a white scar from being cut by Carnelian’s sword when she was inside Peseter still remained, and was bewildered by the contradiction. If there was no blade… how had her hand been cut? Perhaps, just as Carnelian said, it had been her heart that had wounded Julitan’s hand. Had it been a warning telling her not to approach her? The true sword lies within the heart. Carnelian’s words echoed in her mind.
The arena where the royal match took place was a massive Colosseum located in the center of Bellesima. It was quite a famous and popular event among the city’s busily bustling people, so on match days it was always packed with spectators hoping to watch the Seals’ battles, and in the back there were no small number of gambling dens where considerable money changed hands. The VIP seats closest to the arena were occupied almost entirely by King Preston of Lisenborough, the knight Rie Dietrich who guarded him, and the tamers of the participating Seals. For reference, Rie had never once participated in this tournament or sent out Ikates. After kobolds dressed in primary colors came out and wiped the stone floor that served as the Colosseum’s ring, a fat announcer appeared at the center of the arena and declared the start of the match in a booming voice.
“…and thus I declare the commencement of this glorious match!”
Cheers loud enough to bring down the building could be heard. The crowd was nearly frenzied; if the king had not been present, they would likely have stripped off their clothes and rioted. Julitan, seated in the upper section by virtue of her status as a tamer, glanced over at Rie, who was guarding King Preston’s side. Rie was wearing a bitter smile at the spectacle. Unfortunately, Kudro was seated next to Julitan. Kudro looked at Julitan and addressed her with a “friendly” face completely different from before.
“How about it, Sir Julitan. Are you confident you can defeat my Seal? Yours is excellent as well, but mine is no pushover.”
“Ah, is that so?”
Julitan replied with a disgustingly pleasant smile, not wanting to deal with the man whispering to her. Well, no matter what Julitan thought, Kudro seemed to have mistaken her for quite the knight (largely thanks to Carnelian’s strength) and was trying to befriend her.
“I heard you met Sir Rie. That is a great honor. His Majesty will soon summon you as well. By the way… your Seal is remarkably beautiful. I trust you’ve had some fun? I have several Seals with fine appearances myself, but compared to yours, they don’t even reach the toes….”
“What?”
Fun? Julitan had heard from Carnelian that there were vermin-like fellows who made perverted demands of their Seals, but she was shocked that the man right in front of her was such a pervert. This man… truly looks the part. Well, if Julitan had made such a request of Carnelian, the outcome was obvious, so she felt dizzy just thinking about it.
“Would you please lend your Seal to humble me for a moment? The compensation would be more than sufficient….”
“Shut up.”
Julitan’s goodwill towards Kudro, who was approaching her with a repulsive expression, had completely vanished. Without realizing it, Julitan was glaring at him. To the surprised, flustered Kudro, Julitan continued in a low, cold voice.
“What do you take knightly honor for? My Seal, Carnelian, is like a second self to me. To defile a Seal is to defile me, and giving a Seal to another is the same as throwing away my heart. I do not know how you regard Seals, but to me, a Seal is a part of my body and heart, a precious thing inseparable from me. Insult me further, and I will draw my sword right here.”
The saying that even stealing grows familiar with repetition came to mind.
“Ah, n-no, that’s not what I meant….”
Kudro, who had found the seemingly frail Julitan’s sudden venomous words unbearable, could only avoid her gaze, not knowing what to do. He probably wouldn’t even be able to look her in the face properly next time. Julitan looked at Kudro, who had turned pale and hung his head deep in thought, with a satisfied expression.
‘Draw my sword, my foot. I don’t even have a sword. Anyway, they say Seals resemble their tamers, but in my case I seem to be taking after my Seal’s personality….’
The ongoing matches were contests between so-called “low-rank Seals” with poor combat abilities. They were far more spectacular than ordinary people, but they couldn’t compare to Carnelian’s ability to smash a castle in an instant. Above all, Julitan felt only rejection and slight fear at the sight of the Seals fighting with expressionless faces, rather than thrill or delight. Carnelian had been right. They never fought of their own will. They simply moved to defeat their assigned opponents, because their masters ordered it, because their masters wanted it, without even thinking why they had to fight. Even if the pain was unbearable, they might show a pained expression, but they had no right to refuse, to get angry, or to grieve. The “duel” between Carnelian and Zasak, Kudro’s Seal, was a kind of main event. Separate from the tournament, it was scheduled to take place after the tournament ended. During the matches, Julitan kept glancing at Rie, who stood guard near the king, protecting Preston. Of course, it was partly because Rie’s appearance was so exceedingly beautiful even for a woman, but more than anything, she couldn’t forget her conversation with Rie a few days ago. Julitan thought back on her conversation with her. She recalled yesterday’s conversation with Rie.
Dragon Lady
Author / Kim Cheolgon
Publisher / Bak Seongin
Managing Editor / Editorial Department
Published by / Next Level Studio
Address / 4F, 113 Seongsuil-ro, Seongdong-gu, Seoul
Main Phone / 070-8801-6987
ISBN 979-11-92729-25-1
This book has been published as an ebook by Next Level Studio pursuant to a contract with the copyright holder.
Unauthorized reproduction of this book’s contents without the publisher’s permission is prohibited under copyright law.