To the Greatest Swordsman
The day of reckoning had dawned.
The song of a bird, breaking the silence, woke Bella.
“…Morning, huh.”
Muttering softly to herself, Bella scanned her surroundings. Flan was nowhere to be seen.
No matter where she looked—left, right, up, or down—there was no sign of him.
What could be his reason for hiding? The forest, once alive with birdsong, had fallen eerily silent, shrouded in an unsettling stillness.
The unfamiliar quiet pressed down on Bella, but her resolve remained unshaken.
On any other day, she would have woken to the sight of Flan looming over her, his presence suffocating. She would have had to steel herself against his piercing gaze as he muttered about searching for the letter before slinking off with his usual ominous demeanor. But today was different. Even though she had woken earlier than usual, Flan was nowhere to be found.
The strange and unsettling nature of his absence might have been enough to fill her heart with dread, but instead, Bella’s heart raced with anticipation.
Flan wasn’t here.
Which meant he had gone to search for the letter. Early in the morning, no less.
He must have been desperate to find it as quickly as possible.
If he returned, Bella would die.
But if she managed to escape before he came back?
Flan’s plans would crumble to dust.
Not only that, but she would have a chance to kill him. If she could rest and recover her strength, if she could face him in her best possible condition without letting her guard down, there was no way she would lose to someone like Flan. She could repay him for every indignity and humiliation she had suffered—tenfold.
Of course, this all hinged on her successfully escaping. But that didn’t matter.
If she did nothing, she would die.
If she failed, the result would be the same.
But if she succeeded—if she could just escape—she could kill Flan and reclaim her honor.
The choice was obvious.
Without hesitation, Bella made her decision.
And so, her escape began.
—
The mountain was silent.
Perhaps it was because of Bella, reeking of blood and filth, that the area around her was even quieter than the rest of the forest.
The birds didn’t sing. The sun was obscured by the canopy of leaves. Even the sounds of breaths of the beasts were absent.
The forest was enveloped in a silence so profound, it was as if someone had erased all sound from existence.
But Bella’s movements showed no hesitation.
Using her arms, she gripped branches and anchored herself firmly to the ground, pulling her body forward. It was a slow and grueling process, but with the help of her trembling thighs, she managed to move faster than one might expect.
Even when she sank into the mud, she pushed forward. Even when her breath came in ragged gasps, she didn’t stop.
There was no time to tend to the wounds caused by sharp rocks scraping against her skin.
She had to get as far away as possible before Flan noticed something was wrong and came after her.
Using the setting sun as her guide, Bella moved left—southward. If she kept heading south, she was certain she’d eventually find a village.
Even if she was unlucky and didn’t stumble upon a village, heading south would inevitably lead her to someone, anyone.
She had to move quickly, as far away from Flan as possible.
Fueled by that singular determination, Bella pressed on.
The scars from past tortures and the fresh wounds tearing at her flesh tried to hold her back, screaming in protest.
But she didn’t stop.
She had to kill the monster who wanted her dead.
She had to survive.
She couldn’t die. Not yet.
But despite her resolve, Bella’s movements were slowing.
From the start, the odds of her escape had been slim. Could someone with a body as broken as hers truly manage to flee? With her limbs barely functional, Bella reached her limit just thirty minutes into her escape.
“Hah… haah… huff, huff… ugh…”
The sensation of blood seeping from hastily bandaged wounds spread through her body, sickening and unbearable.
Her head spun, making it difficult to think clearly.
By her calculations, she should have reached the village by now, but there was no sign of it. Not even the faintest trace of human presence.
She hadn’t lost her way. Her brain felt like it was melting, nausea clawing at her throat, but she hadn’t been disoriented enough to lose her sense of direction. Not yet.
Still, if she kept moving and the village didn’t appear…
Rustle.
It was then, as she debated whether to rest, that she heard it.
Something moved in the direction she was facing. The sound of foliage being pushed aside, the distinct noise of something—or someone—moving.
Bella’s body trembled uncontrollably. She hadn’t sensed any signs of life for so long that the sudden noise sent a jolt through her.
But if she didn’t act now, who knew when she’d encounter another presence?
Rest, or meet whoever—or whatever—was out there?
“Right…!”
Bella made her decision swiftly, as always.
Suppressing her labored breaths, she crawled forward. Toward the source of the sound. Toward the possibility of salvation. Away from the looming threat of Flan.
But when she arrived… there was no one.
“…What?”
Where she had expected someone to be, there was only a small nest.
A wyvern’s nest.
And in it, five young wyverns.
The rustling sound had come from them. The baby wyverns turned their attention toward the intruder, their gazes locking onto Bella.
“…!!!”
Bella’s body froze instantly.
Though young, the wyverns were already the size of medium-sized dogs. Their danger, however, far exceeded that of any ordinary animal. Even a fully armed soldier could be killed in an instant if they let their guard down around such creatures.
For someone as injured and defenseless as Bella, she was nothing more than prey.
And she knew this all too well. The memory of their lethality burned vividly in her mind.
The wyverns’ gazes locked onto Bella like predators eyeing their prey.
For now, they didn’t attack, but there was no guarantee they wouldn’t suddenly lunge at her.
“R-run… I have to…!”
As Bella cautiously retreated backward, something brushed against her back.
A foreboding sensation.
This feeling… it could only mean one of two things: the mother wyvern, or a beast hunting the young.
Terror spread across Bella’s face.
If things continued like this, she would be eaten alive.
By a wyvern she had once dismissed as a mere pest. Or perhaps by some other beast.
She could already imagine it—her flesh being torn apart piece by piece as she died a slow, agonizing death.
Maybe now.
Right now.
The attack would come.
…
…But for some reason, it didn’t.
Even the baby wyverns didn’t make a move. Instead of pouncing, they seemed wary, watching her cautiously.
That meant… whatever was behind her wasn’t the mother wyvern.
And since she hadn’t been attacked yet, it likely wasn’t a beast either.
Which left only one possibility.
A human.
It had to be. It must be.
Clinging to that hope, Bella slowly turned around.
The first thing she saw was a pair of boots.
Polished leather boots, gleaming faintly.
No beast would wear something like that.
Which meant the presence behind her was undoubtedly human.
“…I’m saved.”
Bella whispered softly to herself.
A hunter? Or perhaps a traveler passing through?
It didn’t matter who they were.
If it was a person, they wouldn’t kill her. She could live. She could escape.
That was all Bella could think.
Escape.
She was finally going to escape.
She was finally going to leave that hell behind.
Tears of relief began to well up in her eyes. For the first time since her birth, her eyes—always dry, hardened—were moistening.
She had survived.
She had escaped Flan.
Bella’s joy was reaching its peak.
And then—
“This area’s full of weaker wyverns or ones separated from their packs. Most of the ones that end up near a dragon’s territory are like that. So, maybe this one’s mother was killed when her pack was wiped out near birthing season? I heard there’s been a woman slaughtering wyverns mercilessly around here lately… Maybe it was her. What do you think?”
A voice.
A voice she knew all too well.
A voice she had heard over and over again for the past few weeks, to the point of exhaustion.
A voice she had prayed she would never hear again.
“You’ve been moving quite a bit, Bella.”
Bella’s head snapped upward.
And there he was.
Standing before her, his body marked with scars, holding that same familiar, cruel expression.
Flan.
Flan.
“Y-you… Why are you here?”
“Why am I here? Well, I found the letter. That’s why I’m here.”
Flan.
Behind her, Flan stood, holding the letter in his hand as if to mock her.
“How… How did you find it so soon?”
Was she being tracked? Since when? No, wait—there wasn’t any sign of pursuit. And the letter… when did he find it? It’s only been a day, not even that long. How could he have found it so quickly? Could it be that he didn’t sleep at all? Was he searching for the letter all night? No, no, forget the letter for a moment. When did he start tracking her—
“From the moment you woke up,” Flan interrupted, as if answering her chaotic thoughts. “I already had it.”
Bella froze, her mind racing.
“The letter… from the beginning…?”
From the very start.
“Yeah,” Flan said, his voice casual, almost amused. “From the very beginning. I’ve had it the whole time. I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up, so I wandered around for a bit. Found it within a few hours, actually.”
He scratched his head with a finger, as if the whole thing had been a minor inconvenience.
—
It had been a few days ago.
After Bella had passed out, Flan had taken a moment to recover himself.
Though he had emerged victorious in his confrontation with Bella, he wasn’t unscathed. His body was battered, his injuries severe. Carrying Bella down the mountain in such a state would have been impossible.
And if he fell while descending? That would be far too pathetic a way to die.
So, Flan decided to rest for a day at the mountaintop. Bella showed no signs of waking, and there wasn’t much for him to do except stare blankly at the sky.
Perhaps it was the thrill of his hard-earned victory, but Flan found himself restless, unable to contain the heat coursing through him. Yet, he couldn’t move too much—his wounds might reopen.
So, he decided on a light stroll. Resting was important, yes, but he wasn’t so incapacitated that he couldn’t take a look around. Of course, he made sure to tie Bella up securely before leaving.
He wandered near the cliffs, thinking it would be more productive to search for the missing letter than to aimlessly roam.
And, anticlimactically, Flan found the letter within a few hours.
The goddess’s power couldn’t escape his Mind’s Eye.
After retrieving the letter, Flan was once again consumed by loneliness—but that was a trivial matter.
Time passed. With Aeon’s power, Flan healed his body and descended the mountain with Bella in tow, the letter safely in his possession.
And then, days later, Bella finally opened her eyes.
—
And now, here they were.
“Then why—why did you keep me alive until you found the letter—”
Bella’s voice trembled with rage and confusion.
Why? Why had he tortured her? Why had he toyed with her? He had promised to let her go once he found the letter.
But her words were cut off.
Crunch.
Her head was stomped into the ground, her mouth filling with dirt.
“Huh? Did you really believe what a vile man told you?” Flan sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. “You’re so naïve.”
A vile man.
Flan had never intended to let her live.
Of course, Bella had known this deep down.
It was obvious. She had always known.
But still, experiencing it in reality.
“────!!!”
“How have you been this past week? I still don’t get it,” Flan said with a casual cruelty, his voice dripping with mockery. “If the letter had opened, I might’ve actually let you live. I mean, I’m planning to disappear from this world anyway, so why would I care about holding a grudge? Honestly, if it had just opened, I was really going to let you go.”
“──! ───!!!! ─, ──! ──────!” Bella screamed, her words incoherent, her voice raw with rage and desperation.
“But, really now… I didn’t think it wouldn’t open. Not even to the very end. You’re something else, huh…”
Flan grabbed Bella by the hair, yanking her head up.
“You’re tough, aren’t you?”
“You…! You bastard…!!!” Bella spat, her voice trembling with fury.
And then, without hesitation, Flan slammed her head back into the ground.
“Well, I can’t exactly deny that,” he said, smirking.
Slowly, deliberately, Flan pressed Bella into the dirt, dragging her forward as he walked.
Bella struggled, flailing in the mud, but her strength was no match for Flan’s. All she could do was scatter dirt and filth around her as she struggled helplessly.
“Anyway, now that I’ve got the letter, I suppose I should give you some kind of freedom,” Flan mused, his tone mocking. “You know, something poetic like, ‘Spend the rest of your days birthing as many as you’ve killed.’ But, well, I’m not really into that sort of thing.”
With that, Flan pulled out a dagger and began slashing at Bella’s body.
The cuts weren’t deep enough to kill her, but enough to draw blood—enough to make her bleed profusely.
“I’ve compromised. You can be eaten by the ones you’ve killed. Find your freedom… or whatever.”
And with that, he hurled Bella toward the baby wyverns.
Her body rolled through the mud, scattering it everywhere, before finally coming to a stop in front of the wyverns.
Her filthy, bloodied body might have been enough to dull their appetite, but the scent of half-dragon blood emanating from her was intoxicating, overwhelming their instincts.
Bella felt the shock reverberate through her chest.
Faced with the terror of death, she screamed.
“FLAAAAAAN! YOU BASTARD!!!”
Her voice echoed through the forest, raw and filled with rage.
At the same time, the wyverns’ patience snapped.
She was going to die.
Bella could feel it in her bones. She could see it in the wyverns’ movements, the way they snorted and pawed at the ground, ready to charge at any moment.
But even in the face of death, Bella’s spirit refused to break.
If she was going to die, she would curse him to the very end.
There was no point in begging for her life. He had no intention of sparing her. She had nothing to lose.
She wouldn’t plead.
She wouldn’t give Flan the satisfaction of hearing her beg or scream in despair.
She would face her end as a warrior, cursing the vile man who had brought her to this point.
That was Bella’s solemn vow.
Flan would never hear the screams he wanted. If only she had just a little more time, she could accept this.
But the wyverns didn’t wait for her prayers.
One of them lunged, its teeth sinking into Bella’s flesh. Its dagger-like fangs pierced through her body, impaling her.
“Ah…! GAHHHHHH—?!”
Bella’s scream was cut short as pain overwhelmed her. She struggled, twisting her body desperately, trying to shake the wyvern off.
But she couldn’t move. Not even an inch.
Her frantic struggles only served to stain the nest red with her blood.
And so, the escape attempt came to an end.
In the now-silent mountain, the only sounds that echoed were:
The defiant screams, still cursing him, vowing to kill him even as her body was torn apart.
The desperate pleas for mercy that began as her flesh was ripped open.
The incomprehensible cries of agony as her bones were crushed.
And finally, the slow, fading whimpers of someone begging for their life.
“…It’s always disgusting to watch,” Flan muttered.
He stood there for a while, staring at the blood-soaked scene. Watching his enemy be torn apart so brutally should have been satisfying, but it wasn’t his ultimate goal.
With a shrug, Flan turned away.
Step, step.
The sound of his footsteps echoed, strangely light and almost cheerful.
And not long after, the seals on all the letters disappeared.
—
The wind blows.
The final letter had finally opened.
And now, I wander aimlessly.
The cold air cuts through me, rattling my thoughts.
I used to wonder what it would feel like when my revenge was complete.
I’d thought about it before—what it would be like to exact vengeance on the ones who had taken everything from me. Those childish fantasies of revenge, followed by the bitter thought: ‘What will I have left when it’s all over?’
Back then, I’d gotten so tangled up in those thoughts that I’d decided to just give up and die.
And now, here I am. Revenge is done.
I’ve achieved everything I set out to do. It’s over.
Some people say that after revenge, there’s a fleeting sense of satisfaction, followed by an overwhelming emptiness that drives them to their end. They say that when you pour everything into achieving a goal, there’s nothing left afterward.
Others say that once they’ve achieved what they wanted, they can live the rest of their lives happily, no matter what comes their way.
But this feeling… what is it?
There was satisfaction in my revenge.
And yes, the emptiness came too.
But after that piercing emptiness faded, this… this feeling crept in.
How do I even describe it?
A dull, gnawing loneliness mixed with an ache that refuses to go away.
Yes, this is—
“Khak… kuh, keh-hehk.”
The sticky sound of blood splattering against the ground.
…Coughing up blood.
I thought maybe my mind was breaking after the revenge was over. But no, thankfully, it’s not that.
My body hasn’t been in good shape since I used the holy sword. I guess it’s finally catching up to me.
Honestly, just carrying Bella down the mountain had pushed me to the brink of collapse. And then, for the past week, I’d been traveling back and forth to that distant village for supplies. It’s a miracle I didn’t collapse sooner.
On top of that, I didn’t get proper rest and even conducted torture sessions. Of course, my body’s falling apart.
If I’d just killed her outright, I wouldn’t be in this mess… but then again, that would’ve been too dull.
And it pissed me off.
Having someone like her—someone so reckless and arrogant—right in front of me.
…Anyway, this is really the end now.
The journey of delivering the letters is over. Unless some drunkard’s slave comes looking for me or something equally ridiculous, there’s no more danger left. Probably.
So, all that’s left, as always, is to read the letters.
I bent down to pick up the letter lying on the ground.
And as I reached for the blood-stained paper…
“Ah, for fuck’s sake… What is it this time?”
I froze, staring at the letter. There was a red stain on it, one I hadn’t noticed before.
“…!”
For a moment, I thought the goddess might’ve pulled some new bullshit, and I instinctively shifted into a defensive stance. But… it wasn’t anything major.
It was just a nosebleed.
I hadn’t even realized blood was dripping from my nose until I saw it on the letter. Damn it. My body’s really starting to give out. The effects of the drugs and magic are wearing off faster than I thought.
It seems I don’t have much time left. No point wasting any more of it.
Repeating that thought to myself, I quickly picked up the letter meant for Bella.
Slowly, I unfolded the paper—
—
* * *
Hello, it’s been a long───
* * *
—
──And just as naturally, I folded the paper back up.
I decided not to read it.
It wasn’t because of the bloodstain. I’m not some neat freak who’d refuse to read a letter over something so trivial.
Besides, the letters were the driving force behind this entire journey. They were what dragged me out of the dull monotony of my life and hurled me into a pit of chaos and suffering. They reminded me of a purpose I’d long forgotten, and in the end, they even broke the chains that bound me.
As much as I hated them, I couldn’t bring myself to truly despise them.
But still, I didn’t read it.
Instead, I tossed the letter back onto the ground with the others.
Seven—no, eight letters now lay scattered across the dirt.
Worn, torn, and barely holding their original shape after the long, grueling journey.
The letter I’d kept closest to me was in worse condition than I’d thought.
Maybe that’s why I’d expected to feel something different when I looked back on everything now that it was over.
But, disappointingly, there was nothing. No new emotions. No profound sense of closure. Nothing.
Would it have felt different if the paper had been clean?
Hmm… I don’t know.
Anyway, the most important thing in this journey were the letters. It all started because of them, after all.
Though, if I’d fixated solely on opening the letters, I wouldn’t have made it this far.
So, I decided.
I wouldn’t read them.
Who cares? These damn letters.
If Bella’s power had opened the letters, maybe I’d have read them for the sake of closure. But this? It’s not like Troka wrote them. And even if I did read them, it’d only piss me off. Why bother? They were probably written by the goddess anyway—what would I even gain from reading them?
“Cough… khak…”
I don’t think I have much time left. And with so little time remaining, wasting it on something like this feels… wrong.
As I set the letter down, my vision wavered. It wasn’t quite the sensation of passing out, but it wasn’t far off either. Not a critical condition, but one that could become critical at any moment. Every breath felt heavy, the air catching in my lungs.
A bit dizzy.
Surely, I’m not going to die here.
Even if I do… well, I think I ended things decently enough. Not a bad way to go, all things considered. Though, of course, it’d be better if I didn’t die.
But if I did, there’d be no regrets.
Because now, finally—
I can go home.
The moment right before achieving your goal is always the most exhilarating.
Still, I want to go home.
I really do.
Surely—
I’ll make it back.
Surely.
Wiping the dried blood from my cracked lips, I took another aimless step forward.
