Pavart─!

With the sound of the earth being struck, Yoon Si-woo’s body launched forward, and soon, the sword gripped in his hand swung through the air.

Clang─!

What stopped the white trajectory was a pitch-black sword.

Gazes exchanged between the clashing swords, Yoon Si-woo quietly asked Lucy, looking beyond the blade.

“…Are you not going to use your abilities? Are you going to go easy on me?”

“Heh, in a duel between swordsmen, why would we involve such tricks?”

In response to Yoon Si-woo’s question, Lucy chuckled lightly.

Lucy knew well that there was no way Yoon Si-woo, who had clashed swords with her countless times in her mind, could genuinely ask such a question.

She understood his intention of diverting her mental focus through such questions to gain an upper hand in their battle.

However, she didn’t find it unpleasant at all.

In fact, she appreciated his cute antics.

Because it was proof that Yoon Si-woo was genuinely trying to defeat her.

“And if you’re talking about going easy, you must know well…”

To reciprocate Yoon Si-woo’s efforts, Lucy willingly answered him.

A fact that Yoon Si-woo already knew better than anyone.

“I am strong, even without such abilities.”

And then, the attack.

Kang-!

In that brief moment, the swords tangled in midair, the sound of sharp clashes ringing out several times.

Feeling that a change in strategy was necessary, blood trickled down Yoon Si-woo’s cheek as he was knocked back.

In their exchange this time, Yoon Si-woo had taken damage.

But it wasn’t entirely one-sided.

“…Haha!”

Seeing the portion of his sleeve cut off, Lucy burst into laughter.

Though she hadn’t used her abilities, she was battling with her full strength now.

Wasn’t this the same Yoon Si-woo who couldn’t even touch a hair on her in the past?

Yet now, he had become strong enough to be nearly equal to her, who fought earnestly.

The fragile boy who had fallen apart after losing someone precious was gone now.

What stood before her now was a swordsman who could rival her as one of the strongest.

How had that little brat, whom she’d watched over since childhood, grown so much?

Feeling proud and delighted, Lucy exclaimed toward Yoon Si-woo.

“This isn’t all your true power, right!”

“…Pfft, of course not!”

To provoke him a little, she mixed in some taunts, and Yoon Si-woo came charging at her.

Yoon Si-woo’s sword had now reached a level similar to hers.

Lucy gazed at him with a complex expression, murmuring softly.

“…Indeed, you resemble me.”

The sword swung by Yoon Si-woo resembled Lucy’s own sword, probably because she had taught him.

And this also suggested that it couldn’t help but resemble a certain swordsman who had taught Lucy.

However, Lucy felt something deep while watching Yoon Si-woo’s sword.

It wasn’t merely a matter of resemblance; it was almost identical to how that swordsman and Yoon Si-woo swung their swords.

Knowing that this was no mere coincidence, while clashing swords, Lucy couldn’t help but recall her past from the sight of Yoon Si-woo’s sword, which reminded her so much of it.

—

The world was filled with those who proudly claimed to be the strongest.

However, one day, a rumor began to spread among these strong individuals.

It was a rumor about a witch who would seek out strong warriors for a duel, wherever they may be.

When the rumor first began to spread, most strong warriors accepted the challenge.

Because they were all individuals whose pride matched their strength.

But as it became known that all those who faced the witch in life-or-death duels had met their demise at her hands, strong warriors gradually started to avoid confrontations.

They hired escorts or even mobilized armies, sometimes barricading themselves behind castle walls.

However, nothing could prevent the witch.

When the escorts blocked her, she cut them down.

When the army intervened, she slaughtered them.

When the castle walls constrained her, she demolished them.

Ultimately, those who realized that there was no method to stop the witch all knelt before her.

For the only way to survive a duel with her was to surrender before fighting.

And just five years after she began her quest for strong warriors, the Witch of Pride, Lucifel, ascended to the position of the undeniable strongest.

She had reached a status that any swordsman could dream of at least once.

Yet for some reason…

“Why does achieving the goal of becoming the strongest feel so hollow…?”

Despite having achieved her dream of being the strongest, Lucifel instead felt a profound emptiness.

What could be the reason?

Was it because it was achieved too easily?

Or was being the strongest not as significant as she had expected?

No, it wasn’t for those reasons.

…Perhaps she already knew.

Lucifel smiled bitterly as she recalled.

“…If I were to realize the dream you could not, would you be happy?”

“…You mean to become stronger than anyone else? No, dreams should not be defined for someone else’s sake but must reflect what one truly desires.”

“It’s not particularly for you. It’s because I want it. Like you said, I am a swordsman now. It’s only natural for me to harbor such a goal.”

The memories of the nameless swordsman who had given her a name.

“…Truly, he was a man without any tricks from beginning to end.”

“Do not fall into delusion. This is genuinely what I want. It is not for you.”

“So, just watch from there. Witness me become the strongest in the world.”

And the recollection of that day when the man had left her side.

While she had certainly said that back then…

Lucifel realized and muttered with self-deprecation.

“…I had only been lying to myself.”

Even though she had achieved her goal, feeling this incredible emptiness was because this was not truly what she desired.

The goal of becoming the strongest that Lucifel had accomplished was, in the end, the man’s goal, not hers.

She had been lying to herself all this time, hoping that achieving it in his stead would make him happy.

Yes, what she truly wanted was simply…

“…You and I, we were both ones without guile.”

Yet that dream had now become an unattainable dream.

The man who knew only swords had left her side forever.

Feeling nostalgia for the man, Lucifel suddenly sensed a piercing loneliness.

Up until now, she had been able to focus solely on the goal of becoming the strongest, but now that she had achieved it, it felt as if all the emotions she had been neglecting rushed in at once.

“…Being the strongest is damned, ultimately a lonely position.”

What she desired had become unattainable, and even the goal she had taken up in its place had been achieved far too quickly.

Now all that remained was a long time to live without a purpose.

“…What on earth should I live for now?”

Having lost her life’s purpose, Lucifel looked up at the sky and murmured in solitude.

And thus, 20 years passed.

Lucifel had settled in a cave.

The area around the cave had become infamous as the dwelling of a terrifying witch, and rumors kept people at bay.

In that remote cave, Lucifel quietly, or rather lifelessly, spent her time.

It hadn’t always been this way.

Initially, she had trained her sword like a true swordsman or tried to create life forms using her inexplicable energy to soothe her loneliness.

However, at some point, Lucifel realized that such things no longer held any meaning for her, and she lost all motivation, spending her days in utter stillness.

She would only move when the occasional fool, bravely seeking fame, dared to invade her cave to challenge her.

—

That day seemed no different.

Thud, thud.

Awakened by the sound of footsteps outside the cave, Lucifel softly warned the intruder.

“…If you don’t want to die, turn back now.”

Having already attained the status of the strongest, she had no desire to engage in unnecessary battles.

But perhaps because those daring to come this far had heard her infamous reputation.

Most who sought out this cave were brash youngsters unable to hold back their bloodlust, who recklessly accepted her warning.

Perhaps that was why the footsteps continued, unfazed by her caution, and Lucifel sighed softly and rose, sword in hand.

But the moment she laid eyes on the intruder,

“…Oh.”

Lucifel was compelled to reevaluate her perception of him.

“At least he doesn’t appear to be an average fool.”

The intruder, clad in shining white armor and adorned with several swords at his waist, made quite an impression.

However, even more than his appearance, what captivated Lucifel were the fierce energies radiating from around him.

A pressure so sharp that it could only have come from someone who had seriously trained for a long time, which Lucifel had not felt in some time.

Lucifel was quite impressed by the intruder’s presence and subtly posed a question.

“…You don’t appear to be here merely for fame. What brings you to my cave?”

In response to Lucyfel’s inquiry, the intruder drew one of his swords from his waist and pointed it at her.

That alone was adequate as an answer, prompting Lucifel to chuckle softly for the first time in ages.

“Haha, I see. That was a slip of the tongue. Why would a swordsman need a reason to challenge another strong swordsman?”

Leaning against the cave wall, she grasped her sword and aimed it at the intruder.

“Come at me, challenger.”

At her words, the two swords rushed forward simultaneously.

Clang─!

In an instant, their weapons clashed.

And at that moment, a strange expression of shock crossed Lucifel’s face.

“…?!”

They say swordsmen can communicate without words merely through the clash of swords.

The more skilled the swordsman, the more information one can glean from the other’s blade.

And what Lucifel sensed in that singular exchange was:

Déjà vu.

“This is….”

A swordsman’s sword carries the history of its wielder.

Thus, inevitably, each sword is unique.

“Impossible…”

So, she thought it must be merely a coincidence.

Even as she saw it with her own eyes, felt it with her body, Lucifel dismissed the uncanny resemblance between her sword and the one wielded by the intruder as mere chance.

Because it was an impossible event.

All who had battled her prior and might have been influenced by her sword were already dead.

But if, if this was not mere coincidence…

Clang─!

The swords of the intruder and Lucifel collided, and they collapsed slightly apart from one another.

“…….”

A brief silence enveloped the space.

Then, as though to settle things with this strike, the intruder slowly raised his sword.

Lucifel, too, gazed at him with a complex mix of emotions, raising her own sword.

In the next moment, both swords swung simultaneously.

Just like reflections in a mirror.

Quietly.

Without a sound.

A moment later, a thundering sound erupted.

The impact of their swords resonated throughout the cave.

With a sharp snap, the intruder’s helmet split in two and fell away.

And from beneath that helmet emerged the face of a swordsman she hadn’t seen in a long time, aged slightly but still retaining the visage from her memories.

“…It’s been a while, Lucifel.”