"Haah…”
Gid.
When I’d first come up with his settings, I’d thought myself a genius.
From the moment I’d first devised the Pilgrim's Path, I couldn't quench my desire to properly flesh out the world, and there were several storylines I’d thought of.
Among them, Gid’s arc was one that really expressed the twistedness of human desires.
In fact, it’d been rated pretty well.
The scenario had come to life on the screen, and birthed a natural anger in the gamers – or so the reviews had said.
‘Who knew it would unfold right in front of my eyes one day.'
A sigh escaped my lips.
Was Fleshshaper Gid really entangled with Count Valentine?
And Tal, was his disciple?
It was a combo that made me dizzy, but I didn’t have the time to digest it.
What I was going to have to do was decided.
“One knight per day. Another knight with high potential may have died today. I can’t catch a wink all night, every night, because the cries of the knights who died unjustly keep echoing from the basement.”
As expected from a spirit medium.
I’d wondered why his complexion was so bad, so this must’ve been the reason.
“Why me? Why not the Golden Lion?”
“Because you, are the Judge.”
The Golden Lion could perhaps kill Gid. But would he be able to kill Count Valentine?
Count Valentine was quite a thorough man. He wouldn’t confess, and there was a possibility that he’d be released because his connection to the crime couldn’t be proved.
But in this world, Callius’ nickname was the Judge.
The Judge who would punish the guilty who had cast innocents alive into the furnace, without exception.
“Along with my father – please pass judgment on my master.”
The truth was reflected in Tala's voice as tears glinted in the dim light.
Callius nodded.
“I will.”
“Really?”
Tala had a surprised expression as if he hadn’t expected Callius to accept it so easily.
But from Callius’ point of view, Count Valentine had to be killed anyway.
He was aligned with the empire, and he was probably one of the archbishop's subordinates, so it was better to kill him.
Moreover, if he truly harboured Flesh Shaper Gid, he couldn't keep him alive.
‘It's dangerous.'
The count and Gid, either of them were no threat, not by themselves.
Because although Count Valentine has manpower, he lacked a true high-level force, and although Gid had excellent nurturing techniques, he couldn’t make swords out of nothing.
But when the two worked together, Gid would get access to the enormous resources he needed to craft an excellent carcass, and Count Valentine would get his hands on the sword in return.
If so, there was a high probability that the first victim of that powerful carcass would be Callius himself.
"Okay. Where is he?”
“Oh, we can’t find him right now.”
"Why?"
“I don’t know where exactly Master and Father have hidden the furnace, except that it’s underground. Our only choice is to try and secretly follow Father tomorrow.”
He didn't even know the way? How come he knew all those details, then?
After a moment of thought, I just asked it out loud.
“You don’t even know the way, so how did you know the details of the situation?”
“I caught a glimpse of Master’s journal. There, I saw a rough schedule, and I could deduce the rest from the cries I hear every night. My father also vanished somewhere every night… so it wasn't that difficult.”
His brain wasn’t worthless, at least.
“Some knights were said to be suddenly transferred away, or that they went out on an express mission, but none of them ever came back.”
"I see. Then the only way to find the door to the basement is to follow your father.”
"Yes. We have to surprise him when he opens the door.”
“… It’ll take a long time.”
It’d take too long. It was a bit uncomfortable to sit tight.
Was there no way?
No, wait, that wasn’t true.
“What is that?”
"A worm."
“A worm?”
"Yes. It’ll take a little while.”
This would help him find the entrance.
Callius’ lips curved up at the corners as he fiddled with the worm, created by the Worm Soul, in his hands.
With every step he went down the stairs, the heat scalded his face and choked his breath.
The heat came from the furnace.
The man’s eyes frowned as an indescribable filthy smell stung his nostrils.
However, the face of the knight accompanying him down the stairs was shining brightly.
“Really? You had a sword custom-made for me…”
“That's right. We can't have a knight with your potential carry such a low-grade carcass, after all."
Behind the knight whose name wasn’t known, was none other than the owner of this county.
Count Valentine.
He patted the knight's shoulder with a kind face. The young knight's face was full of joy and excitement.
“I never knew you thought of me so highly… Count. I beg to be your sword for the rest of my life!”
“Oh, naturally, naturally.”
There was a boiling furnace and a blacksmith waiting for them down in the basement.
It was a pretty decent-looking facility.
The knight had worked for the count for several years, but this was the first time he came to know that there was such a place underground.
“Come on, sit here for a while. The forgemaster will make a sword for you soon. How about praying while waiting? Lord Valtherus’ blessing is indispensable for the birth of a good sword.”
"Ah! All right."
The knight immediately closed his eyes and began reciting a prayer. The count's eyes were cold as he watched him pray sincerely.
He looked back and nodded his head.
The old man who had slowly approached them, stabbed down with his sword.
Snikt!!
“Ugh!!”
The knight spewed out a mouthful of blood.
"Why…”
His incredulous eyes lost their light and his body collapsed, but the old man didn’t care and skilfully took off the knight's armour and clothes.
“Tch, does it have to be like this every time?”
To the count who clicked his tongue, the old man –
– No, Gid, responded.
“It’s unavoidable. One soul per day. Isn't that your contract with me? Count Valentine.”
“It’s not easy to sacrifice a hundred knights. If I hadn’t given you my word…"
To sacrifice a hundred knights…
What kind of a hellish cost was that?
Even in terms of national power, a group of a hundred knights couldn’t be called insignificant.
Such an astronomical, incalculable cost was being paid for obtaining a single sword.
“A hundred knights are nothing compared to creating a proper sword. I’d be happy to make that trade even if I had to do it a thousand times.”
“…”
Count Valentine sighed as he watched Blacksmith Gid climb up the steps to the edge of the boiling furnace.
“H-, help…”
Dragging the bloody knight up by the legs, he climbed to the edge of the furnace that looked like a huge pot, and threw him in without any hesitation.
With a plop!
The molten iron overflowed for a moment, but then the surface settled to a steady boil.
In front of the furnace where the knight was being boiled alive, Gid knelt down and began to pray.
For the dead knight?
No.
Just for the sword about to be born.
For the God who would accept this sacrifice and wash away the stains from its soul.
Even Count Valentine couldn’t stay silent in front of that maddening scene.
“There aren’t many left. A hundred well-trained knights. You’ve taken them and taken them, all for making a single sword!”
Surely that long-awaited sword would soon be born?
“What’s it looking like?”
“I see a vision.”
“… Hmmm.”
A vision sword – capable of manifesting a fantasy.
For a vision sword, a hundred knights wasn’t a waste.
‘If that's the case, then my days of trembling in front of the Jervains are over.'
The reason why the Jervain family was scary was not only that it was one of the four great noble houses, or that it was the Lord of the North – the more fundamental reason was the heirloom passed down in the family.
The vision sword, Callis.
Storm Sword – Callis.
For a noble family, the value of a vision sword was immeasurable.
Just by possessing the vision sword, the rank of a family would rise sharply.
The level of the sword indicated the level of the family.
Count Valentine couldn't shake off that desire easily.
“If a vision sword is born, I will make it our family heirloom, and I will appoint you to a noble rank as my vassal.”
For a vision sword, it was definitely worth it.
No, even that might not be enough.
However –
“If the sword turns out subpar, I’ll immediately accuse you of killing a knight and cut off your head. I’ll do my duty to the county and set an example.”
In truth, there was no reconciling Gid and the count.
Because that was how it was written in the stars.
“My ultimate goal is to make a holy sword. Don't worry, all the swords that are born along the way will belong to Valentine.”
Such as this sword that he longed for.
"Hm. But is it really possible to make a sword like this?”
“Count.”
"What?"
“Do you know the difference between a base carcass and a spirit?”
"Well… the dissolution of the soul?"
"Yes. Dissolution of the soul. Just as a bird hatches from an egg, just as an insect molts, only after the skin is peeled off, does the sword acquires its proper dignity.”
The strength of the sword is affected by quality of the soul.
Pure soul. Brave soul. Filthy soul.
Gid said, looking happily at the gigantic furnace, boiling hot.
“That furnace already contains the body and soul of ninety-nine people. Inside that boiling pot, the filth of flesh and soul is now being purified and mixed at will.”
One day left.
He looked forward to the moment when all his blood and sweat would bear fruit.
“Then do you know what the difference between spirit and vision is?”
"Well… I don't know.”
“They say that what we call hwan (vision) today was once called hwa. Hwa for flower, for fury, for disaster[1]. Disaster! It's a really fitting name, isn't it?"
Gid even talked about the empire, and said that ‘vision' there had another name, ‘extinction'.
“Disaster… Well, considering the power of a vision sword, that fits. But I don't see what that has to do with the difference between spirit and vision."
Gid nodded.
“Right, spirit means having an awakened soul. Then what is vision? Since hwan can also mean a painted scene, I think that it’s applying an act of transformation on the awakened soul. So how do you change a soul? How exactly should I wake a soul up to make that happen? That's the question I focused on.”
“And?”
Gid shook his head, mournfully.
“I couldn't find the full answer. But I did get a clue.”
“Is it this?”
The count pointed to the furnace.
"That's right. One hundred knights. The bodies and souls of a hundred knights with high potential. When you combine them together, the soul transforms.”
Kikikikik.
An eerie laughter echoed through the basement.
“But the furnace is big enough to fit a hundred bodies. Won't you end up with too much material? Enough for multiple swords, even.”
“That’s why I have this hammer. I’ll beat it, and beat it again to filter out all the impurities. I’ll beat it and keep beating it till I have only a single sword.”
Only one sword to offer to God.
A sword great enough to satisfy God and bring peace to his body and soul.
A sword that would raise him up to eternal glory!
“I’ve already finished the design.”
It was an unusual structure.
The teeth of the sword were layered on top of each other, so it could stretch like a whip or be used like a longsword.
The count looked at the design etched on the paper and asked Gid.
“It’s a strange sword. Have you decided on a name?”
"Yes."
Gid smiled faintly as he caressed the blueprint.
“Valentine.”
“… What?"
“I built this sword for the Valentines.”
Snikt!!
“Ugh!!”
Claaaaaang! Clang!!
Gid, who’d stabbed Count Valentine and nailed him to the wall, watched him vomit blood.
“I commend you for being the hundredth knight, Your Excellency! Ha ha ha ha ha!!"
“You, you madman… Were you planning this from the beginning?”
“Put a hundred knights with some potential into a furnace and you get a vision sword? Nonsense. Melting down a clump of worms would only make the sword a little bigger at best.”
“You… you lied to me…”
“It’s your own fault, being fooled.”
Count Valentine tried to raise his hand, but his body wouldn't listen. Gid, who looked at his trembling hand with something akin to pity, clicked his tongue and shook his head.
“Don’t bother. Soon you’ll be completely paralyzed and won’t even be able to twitch. I never showed you this before, but this is another masterpiece of mine. It’s a spirit sword with a paralyzing ability. Even a demonic beast wouldn’t be able to move for an hour after tasting its edge.”
Only the eerie sound of Gid's giggles echoed through the basement.
Editor's Notes:
[1] 화 – Yes, the same flower that’s a recurring motif in Stella’s swordsmanship and technique – from Six Peak Flowers Bloom in Late Season, to Other Shore Flower. The fact that it means both flower and fury/disaster is why 파화로 is translated as Raging Flower Wave.
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