Sword Whisperer

'You must be talented.'

Apart from reading Carl's voice, Van's talent as a prosecutor was, frankly, dazzling. A normal person would not even realize how many months, or years, existed, and half of them immediately realized and crossed the wall.

'Perhaps your hope..... is not just delusional.'

The prophecy that one inspector would break the cracks of the world and lead the whole world to paradise. Seeing the leader who was trying to put everything on that stupid prophecy, the Holy Spirit considered him weak. I sympathized.

However, I had no choice but to think about it for three days. Maybe weakness doesn't always bring the wrong answer.

Maybe this world really, really sent a lion to bring an end to their turmoil.

Heavenly Spirit closed his eyes for a moment. In his black retina, his comrades, who had lost their lives in this revolution that had always been a step in place, were carved with friendship, lovers, then engraved with moxation, and then disappeared with their eyes.

Van probably doesn't know why his voice sounds so lonely.

"It's called a bayonet."

"What did I just do?"

"The more you try to grab water, the more you get out of your hand. Carl's no different either."

"..... the knife and the water would be the same. I think it might be the same."

Compared to holding a real knife, it was definitely not enough. But being able to do his swordsmanship with his bare hands did not simply mean an increase in the number of tactics.

The subject of swordsmanship is not the sword, but himself.

What does he mean?

"... that's all I can teach you."

"I want to learn one more thing."

"What is it?"

"When you climbed the mountain at the foot, you saw us from Pendel. In this darkness.... How can you do that?"

"You don't want to know."

"Why is that?"

"I'd rather show you than talk."

Heavenly Spirit took off his veil without saying a word. And finally, half the time I saw his bare face, I was shocked and couldn't open my mouth. More than he thought, it was beyond the eye. Heavenly Spirit cast down the veil, and Van opened his mouth in a stiff voice.

"…… what is the alternative? That?"

"This is my medal. It's also a stigma."

"I'm sorry. This kind of thing..."

"All right. How much would a man who lives in the land of the day know about the circumstances of the night?"

A heavy silence came between the two of them for a moment. Van did not know what to say, and the Holy Spirit was not the one to take out empty words and defeat silence. It was only a short time later that the angel threw.

"Even if I see him now, I won't die with a dagger."

How much do you know about him? "

"It's just that it's terribly strong."

"…… is there no one to fight?"

On the subtle question of Van, the Holy Spirit looked at Van without saying a word. He said in a stiff voice, as if he were reading a history book.

"No matter how brilliant a dragon is, a beauty who can't handle a dagger can die, and a giant who trampled on the womb can die with a single thorn in his foot. There is nothing that cannot be opposed. For years, for luck, for whatever reason, people end up falling apart at some point."

"…… why change the question? How strong is he?"

"What do you think a sword can do? What have you ever imagined?"

The angel looked at the sky for a moment. It's like there's a guardian there.

"Everything you imagine is real for him."

I don't know what the Holy Spirit meant by that. Were you trying to frighten Van or arouse that passion? But Van was not afraid, but enthusiastic. If all he can imagine is possible, what's unimaginable?

"No one in the world can cut it, can you ring it?"

"......."

The celestial spirit glances at Van with silent eyes. It was the moment his mouth was about to open. Suddenly, a thunderbolt struck me, and I repeated that the sky, which was full of darkness, was red and yellow, and then darkened. The angel turns his head toward the storm, and opens his mouth quietly.

"Looks like you're ready to hold the knife."

"…… Yes?"

"I will ask you to return your swords."

The angel turned his back and said,

"Congratulations on being a prosecutor."

§

The storm that once erupted could not have easily retreated. Looking at the raindrops on the window, the sun murmured.

"There's a storm at night."

"There's no reason not to."

"What's out there in that storm? Brother."

"… I don't know. What is there? There's a mountain range, there's a cliff, there's an ocean, and..."

"Perhaps there is another kingdom?"

The sun asked.

"Perhaps our kingdom is locked up at night, forgotten in the wider world…… if there are wonderful and great people out there living in a world like paradise……"

"You've stayed in Pendel too long. Hahn. I've already touched on their ideas."

"Brother! I'm serious!"

"Maybe it's like you said."

Van muttered.

"In the wider world, in the more people, there may be such a magnificent doorway waiting for us to be seen as villagers. But does that mean paradise? No, even if it is paradise..... if we go there, we can be happy."

Van looks down at the people who live in prison. They were living without knowing whether we were trapped or not. In that sense, Fendel Prison may be more committed to the role of prison than ever before in the absence of prisoners.

"If the poor can't fight even in this narrow land, they will go to such a large place..... that they will only spark more turmoil and war."

"That…… might be so."

In the end, people are hard to refute. Living with a weapon, Van and Gogh knew it better than anyone. The hallucinations spoke in a depressing voice.

"So what are these people living in this rough land for? If paradise is an impossible dream, what the hell..."

"I don't know, but......"

Van smiled quietly.

"At least once you admit you don't know, you'll get a chance to know."

Van told Ubows exactly what he said. Oobow was not angry or angry because Van expressed an honest idea. Sometimes, Van had doubts as to whether Ubou really believed in paradise. He used to be more skeptical at some point than anyone else if he wanted to invoke the revolution enthusiastically.

"If we go to paradise like this, even paradise will be another kingdom."

"Shouldn't there be a revolution?"

Van asked quietly.

"This revolution has lasted too long. Maybe it's time to make a difference."

"That's also true. But change must take place in the Kingdom first. Even before our voices reach out, if we change our words..... our words can no longer have power."

"Does the gossip mean having power?"

"You're young, Van."

Ubou looks at Van as if he were looking at his son. Van was sometimes thankful, but sometimes burdensome. Unpaid favors are inherently distressing. Especially if you know you can't end up responding to that favor.

"As you said, if the revolution succeeds, we may be another dead water. And maybe...... that's when you get rid of us.

Well, maybe the prophecy is "paradise." "

"…… How do you believe in fate so much?"

"I believe in fate, but what I believe in more than that is balance."

Ubou said in a loud voice.

"When you sleep, your fatigue is relieved, and when you are exposed to the sun, it grows like a sprout, and when sin builds up, the punishment begins to fall. And I believe that someone will punish the world."

"….. When did you say I was the Savior and now I am the Punisher?"

"Salvation and chastisement are inseparable; do not even the gods bless with punishment?"

"Tell me if you can."

Van has his voice down. A stiff tension hangs over his face.

"How the hell does the White Flame in Pendel Prison bloom?"

"..... nothing goes beyond that. Cruelly."

Ubou smiles in circles. Oobow hasn't looked at Van in a while. His lips were just as clumsy as they were trying to say something. Fear beyond hesitation, hiding in his silence, trembled.

"…… yes. How can I tell you to look at me without seeing my bare face? Yes, Van. Follow me."

Ubowa spoke.

"I will show you the reality of this prison."

Oobow took a step. The white-burning torches stretch the shadow of Ubows across the corridors of the prison. Van quietly followed as he watched Ubows slowly walk behind him.

Ubow took all those steps heavy and troubling. He who is strong, who can only take half at a time if he eats, now seems weak as a child. Walk one step, stop, take two more steps, stop again, exhale, walk again, stop again.

Van didn't rush Ubou. I couldn't rush it. Whenever a stormy storm flashes, the shadow of Ubows rises and disappears deeper among the shadows created by White Flame. The shadow looked like a wounded field dog.

As the sound of rain fills his ears, Ubowu stands in front of an iron gate in the basement and stops.

'Van. "

"…… Yes."

Whatever I show you, will you promise not to hate me for it? "

"Will you show me that I have no choice but to hate you?"

"…… maybe it is."

Ubowou laughed suddenly. Van quietly laid his hand on his knife. He said quietly.

"If there's a reason to hate, you can't suppress it. However, I actually don't quite like the commander……. I think I don't want to understand, but I want to understand."

"... Is that so?"

"Whatever you show me, I will understand you. Of course you can hate it. But it's not like that, Bondi. People hate my parents sometimes, and they love me that much."

"I'm not saying I won't hate you after all."

"Do you want to turn around?"

"... No, it's too late for that."

Oobow turns his head to the Iron Gate.

"Don't go in."

As soon as they opened the iron gate, what they encountered was a staircase going down. This is strict security, too. Van expected what was under it, but at the same time he wanted his feelings to be wrong.

However, the moaning and the occasional mixing of screams made Van's expression more and more firm as he went down the stairs.

Ubows did not walk slower anymore. If it's an impending devastation, I'd rather be hit early. He didn't rest, he didn't sigh, and he didn't look back.

And when I went down that last staircase,

Van was forced to grasp his fist, so that blood was on his palm.

"…… you said you would understand me."

Oobow murmured.

"Can you really do that? Well... I don't really understand. I'm tired of it. Very much."

"…… ahhh."

Van closed his eyes and sighed quietly. When he grabbed his fist with all his might and opened his eyes again, all he saw was a white tree. A white tree stretching through the walls of the basement. The tree, with its subtle light, had a quite familiar color for half. He would, too, because it was exactly the same white as the white salt.

Van's gaze began from that leaf, riding on the branches, down the stems and facing the roots. And the white people, spread out like soil beneath the roots.

"... It's ironic. When I decided to make the most disgusting choice of my life, I learned of your existence."

They were Nahar's people. No, I might call them people now. All they knew how to do was moan, they could already be human. The turbid pupils didn't even know what they saw, and the value of their existence was all about nourishing this tree.

Van opens his mouth hard.

"Since when are they... here...?"

"Your friend, yes, no, because the kidnapping of sheep failed and not long after. The Lighthouse Surveyor started exploring the night more aggressively than usual..... and in our view, it was an easier opportunity to save Nahar's body."

"The Revolution... the Revolution... the Revolution, why?"

Van felt like he was going to sit down any minute. It wasn't because I was disappointed in Ubou. Even those who want to change the world are in sin. Where is the alternative paradise? They deserve paradise.

"The pursuit of the kingdom was too great. Just because they were against the flames of the revolution, my people had to wait for tomorrow when they didn't know when they were going to die. I had to run. I needed a place to make sure I was safe. It was the only night we could think of. And..... the night was not a place to live without white salt."

"Is that why they're like this?"

"Even one!"

Ubowu cries out biting his lips.

"Even one! If they had said that they would give us fire, they would not have helped them to die wet at night, and this was not necessary. Ha, ha, but they were so noble in loyalty. Those who sold their souls at night, it doesn't matter..... that even a handful of his flames won't be used for the night of the traitors."

"........"

"Do you think I'm wrong? Then cut them off."

Oobow looks back at Van. He looks at Van with his eyes that put everything down. His eyes were looking for answers like a lost sheep. But Ubowdo Peninsula, I knew there was no one who could answer this.

"Fendel will collapse. No one can survive here without White Flame. They will go into the water one day and one night..... and they will forget the memory of being human at some point. If you think it's right, cut!"

Van grabs the hallucinogens. Glass's breath-taking awe came in with a sword. Van asked Glass. Senior, what's right? Yuri did not answer. In front of the two lost in-laws, the Scarecrow also did not know the way.

"....... god."

Van pulls out the knife.