What exactly was an Apostle?

Were the Prients truly descendants of Kyrie?

…Why was I reincarnated?

Before the conversation, Lucia had many questions, but after just one, she found herself unable to ask anything else.

Wasn’t that obvious? Although Glen said to consider it a terrible nightmare, Lucia was not a fool. At some point, she noticed sympathy in Glen’s eyes.

Realizing that his words were meant as consolation was as easy as child’s play.

‘I shouldn’t have asked.’

Curiosity killed the cat, as they said. If she had remained ignorant, she wouldn’t have had to endure such heartache. Drained as much in spirit as in body, Lucia walked towards the end of the dark corridor.

Click-

As she turned the icy cold doorknob, Lucia looked around the stark room.

The room, visited for the first time in six years, hadn’t changed since she left. Whether it was tidied by a maid or due to the unique environment of Dawn Castle, not a speck of dust was visible on the neatly arranged bedding. The girl lifted the cool blanket and slid her body underneath.

“……Sigh.”

Staring blankly at the ceiling, she let out a frustrated breath. Somehow, she felt she wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully tonight. In her past life, she could sleep even on a barren rock mountain where not a single blade of grass grew, but not tonight. Lucia closed her eyes quietly, hoping not to have nightmares.


Early morning.

Lucia opened her eyes to the creeping cold.

‘…What time is it?’

Lifting her heavy body, she looked around drowsily, searching for a clock.

But no matter how hard she looked, there was no clock to be found. And that was because the place where Lucia woke up was not the Rien mansion, but Dawn Castle.

Due to the cold weather, Dawn Castle didn’t have mechanical clocks. Recalling this old information, Lucia felt a sense of dullness as she got out of bed.

A somewhat estranged scenery.

Her room in the old castle looked even more dreary due to her red hair.

The furniture, faded with age, and the harsh environment where it snows all year round made everything appear grayish due to the lack of sunlight.

Sigh-

As she exhaled towards the void, white breath emerged.

Lucia, feeling slightly stiff in her shoulders, rose from the bed. Was it because she slept in a strange place, or because of the late-night sparring session yesterday?

‘…Probably because of the terrible nightmare.’

Though she hadn’t dreamt, Lucia attributed her poor physical condition to the nightmare. There were more than enough reasons for her ill state.

‘But still, I didn’t have a nightmare today.’

Lucia slumped down at the vanity, tidying her disheveled hair. What should she do today? The usual training was out of the question.

Instead of going to the training ground, she visited the library under the pretext of not feeling well. Reading was something she found helpful when her mind was troubled, as she knew from experience.

She picked a book that caught her interest from the desk and settled in the sunniest spot. She intended to enjoy reading slowly, basking in the warm sunlight on her back. However,

Her heart felt heavy again.

A future that must happen.

A terrible nightmare.

Glen had asserted that the contents of a prophecy never missed the mark.

A certain thought crossed her mind. If the dream of plunging a knife into Shiron’s chest was a real prophecy, what if Lucia ended her own life before that?

A glimmer of hope appeared.

But the fleeting speculation soon shattered against some possibility.

‘…Which wicked person would raise the dead?’

Though few in number, there were certainly vile beings in the past who controlled corpses. The deep-sea witch who maneuvered corpses submerged in the ocean did, and witches or black magicians who reached a certain level often learned necromancy.

‘Now… I’m not sure.’

Thump-

Lucia tossed aside the book she was reading and buried her face in her hands on the desk. The more she pondered, the more convincing Glen’s words seemed. There appeared to be no way to change the future.

“Found you.”

Lucia felt a familiar tap on her shoulder and turned to see a playful young man’s face.

“Hello.”

Shiron greeted her with a twinkle in his eye.

“I thought you’d be at the training ground. What are you doing here?”

“…Can’t you see? Reading.”

Her response was brusque as she turned back to her book, but Shiron, undeterred, snatched it away from her.

An annoying action, and the words that followed were even more so.

“Let’s spar.”

“…What?”

Lucia turned to him, baffled by his sudden suggestion.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said let’s spar.”

“Seriously? The outcome of the spar is already decided. What’s the point?”

“Geez, you’re particularly prickly today.”

Lucia was always somewhat irritable, but today it seemed even more pronounced. However, Shiron didn’t take her mood seriously. He thought girls, including Yura, sometimes had unreasonable tantrums.

‘Could it be…’

“Are you going through puberty?”

“No!”

Lucia yelled back in denial. The idea of going through puberty again after reincarnation was far off the mark.

“Fine, forget I said it.”

Shiron smirked and suddenly grabbed Lucia’s wrist. She was dragged to the training ground with a blank expression.


“…I’d spar if you asked.”

Standing in the training ground, Lucia faced Shiron. He held a sword that was completely white, from blade to handle. Shiron had dubbed the sword he found during a childhood cave exploration as a ‘holy sword’.

Lucia was well aware of the sharpness of that sword.

“You said it’s a spar, but with a real sword?”

“Yes.”

Shiron’s face was now devoid of the earlier smile.

“You can use your protective energy, right? Without it, you could get hurt.”

“No need.”

Shiron said, rotating his shoulders. Indeed, Lucia’s warning was not unfounded. Even with Lucia’s impressive sword skills, an accident could happen. Only when one was able to wrap their body with energy to protect themselves were they qualified to proceed with a real sword and engage in a spar using sword energy.

Shiron then took a stance, swinging the white sword through the air.

“I’ve done fine without it.”

“…”

Lucia picked up the black iron sword lying nearby. She had planned to respond casually, even jokingly, but at least he was serious about his swordsmanship.

‘I’ll just go easy and then…’

Swish!

Lucia’s eyes widened as the distance between them closed instantly. In a fleeting moment, Shiron swung his sword. Bang! Their swords clashed, emitting a loud noise.

Crack. Lucia deflected the pressing force to the side and stepped back, but Shiron followed relentlessly, glaring as if to kill. Responding, Lucia drew mana from her core.

‘I can’t go easy.’

Lucia clenched her jaw. She had been cautious, fearing an accidental injury, but it was an arrogant thought. It wasn’t respectful to an opponent who was seriously engaging in the spar. And then,

The black iron sword’s edge was nicked.

That fearsome white sword. If she hadn’t infused mana at the moment of contact… it might not have broken, but it would have certainly required a blacksmith’s attention. She almost lost the sword she intended to use for her coming-of-age ceremony.

Whoosh-

White energy enveloped the black sword. Lucia intercepted the descending, attempting sword strokes from all directions. Her vision, judgment, and strength, which didn’t require measuring her realm, acted like a huge shield, repelling the onslaught of sword strikes.

She blocked every attack, but not with a casual one-handed form.

‘It’s getting faster.’

Lucia drew a bit more mana from her core. Shiron’s sword was no longer the recklessly swung weapon of the past. It was now aimed properly at vital points, regardless of whether the opponent was a blood relative or a half-sister. He was desperately trying to kill Lucia.

It was because he trusted Lucia. It was okay to do so with her. Though it was called a sparring match, even if Shiron swung his sword laden with murderous intent, Lucia would impressively block it. Shiron had that kind of faith in her.

‘What a monster.’

Shiron felt a sharp sensation. His golden eyes flashed, piercing through every sword path. In his confident gaze, which even seemed relaxed, he read the ability to exploit any gap in the swordplay. The gap in their skills was immense.

‘That’s why I like it even more.’

Shiron grinned widely.

A sparring match before the coming-of-age ceremony. The result was satisfying. It seems he didn’t just play around during his time away. Last night. Shiron saw the flames at the training ground. Lucia and Siriel’s sparring match. They used magic while sparring. He thought they had switched their paths to become magicians.

And didn’t Lucia lose terribly to Siriel? When Lucia’s sword fell, his heart sank, but it seemed that it was an unnecessary worry.

Shiron glared at the face across from his clashing sword.

“Swordsmanship suits you better than magic.”

“…What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

Was he trying to induce complacency? But Lucia’s mind did not waver. Like her straight sword, her once turbulent thoughts steadied.

Kwaang—

A white explosion erupted amidst the storm of sword strikes. The air screamed under the force of his fully-powered swing.

Lucia was strong. But Shiron was also strong enough. He could slice through rocks and create craters with just the wind from his sword.

And then,

Lucia began to swing her sword.

She realized she couldn’t deflect all the sword strikes by just standing still. Her thought process flipped completely. The path she had been following to parry the strikes turned upside down.

And then another revolution. A dark arc cut through the air, finding a gap.

From above to below, like lightning, Shiron swung his sword towards the falling blade.

‘I’ve lost my edge.’

Shiron remembered the slow-moving blade.

‘A lot.’

The holy sword was still intact.

‘It’s about time for a change.’

Shiron drew upon more strength.

Kang!

‘It’s light… light?’

Lucia felt something off. Contrary to the heavy sound that had just echoed. The sound now seemed like a faint scream. And it wasn’t just the sound that was light.

Lucia could no longer swing her sword.

Shiron, recognizing this, stopped his own blade.

Lucia looked at the black iron sword in her hand.

A cleanly broken sword came into view.

“…Huh.”

Lucia lifted her head, trembling.

“What’s this? What is this?”

“Can’t you see?”

The young man with a sly smile casually replied.

Shiron, steadying his ragged breathing, said,

“Time to change the sword.”

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