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chapter 22
‘That sound… the scraping of a sword?’
Lirian instinctively recognized it. Turning her head, she saw someone strolling leisurely out of the darkness.
Long black hair, its tips rippling with a faint violet sheen.
Amethyst eyes that glowed even in pitch-black darkness.
Broken chains dangling from her wrist.
As the woman drew closer, the scraping sound of her sword dragging against the ground grew louder.
Scrraape—
“Who are you?”
The figure stopped just a meter away from Lirian.
Something about her aura felt oddly familiar, prompting Lirian to ask in confusion.
The woman finally spoke.
“Who do you think I am?”
“…Is this a riddle? I don’t like hard ones.”
“Neither do I.”
“Really? Then just tell me!”
“You shouldn’t expect the world to be that easy.”
“Argh…!”
When Lirian grumbled at being teased, the other woman smirked.
“For now, let’s just say I’m the Sword Demon.”
Lirian’s eyes widened.
“Want me to introduce myself? Age: twenty-five. Affiliation… well, let’s say none at the moment.”
Hesitantly, Lirian replied.
“I’m twenty-five too. Family… I had one, but now I don’t.”
The woman looked down at her for a moment before replying.
“No. You’re five.”
“…Huh?”
“You’re five years old. You have a family.”
Me…?
Lirian looked down at her own body.
She really was tiny—like a child. Just moments ago, she had been the same build as the woman before her.
Then it hit her. The return, everything that had happened since.
Her parents, her three brothers, the ducal household…
The family she had once lost—she had them again.
Her amethyst eyes trembled, and the woman smiled bitterly at the sight.
“That’s why, this time—”
She stepped closer and laid a hand gently on Lirian’s head.
“Protect them well.”
Lirian stared blankly up at the woman who stroked her head in silence.
A beat later, she asked softly:
“…Do you think I can?”
“Are you unsure?”
“…A little.”
I failed once already. What if I fail again?
Her downcast voice earned a scoffing laugh.
“What are you even worrying about? I’m here, aren’t I?”
“…Huh?”
“I’ll help you. Though… for that tiny body of yours to withstand my power, it won’t be easy.”
Lirian flared up.
“I’m not tiny!”
“Really? You look like you can’t even hold a sword properly.”
“Ugh! I’ll grow!”
“Sure, sure. Drink lots of milk if you want to get tall.”
The woman grinned mischievously.
“At the very least, you should grow taller than me. Don’t you think?”
She was clearly teasing.
Lirian puffed up her cheeks in anger.
“So? Don’t you have anything you want to say to this big sister?”
“Pffft!”
“Nothing at all? If not, I’ll be on my way.”
As the woman turned to leave, panic surged in Lirian’s chest.
Stamping her feet, she finally shouted:
“Help me!”
“…Hm? What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
“…Help me—future me.”
At that moment, amethyst eyes—identical to her own—met hers.
“Help me protect the people I love.”
“……”
“Please. I’m asking you.”
You can do it, can’t you? Unlike the weak me now… you are the strongest person in this world.
Her desperate plea made the aloof woman’s lips curl upward in a vivid arc.
“You really are innocent at this age.”
That childlike purity—the belief that asking for help will guarantee it—was something the Sword Demon, who carried all the scar-ridden memories hidden deep within, no longer possessed.
It made her feel both envious and strangely irritated.
But still—
“…I guess I have no choice.”
The Sword Demon stepped forward, sword dragging along the ground with a harsh scrape.
Because truly, who wouldn’t want to protect their younger self? That fragile yet brilliant self that existed only in an untarnished childhood.
She held out her sword to Lirian.
A simple, faded longsword.
As Lirian clasped the hilt in a trance, the Sword Demon’s body began to scatter into particles of radiant light.
“You won’t regret this?”
Fwoooosh—!
Though no wind stirred in the darkness, Lirian’s black hair billowed as if in a storm.
Sensing the chaos yet to come.
The tips of her hair glowed in a deep violet hue, shimmering like a night sky painted in her strands.
“Your body is still too young. Accepting my power will hurt… a lot.”
Her voice echoed faintly as her form dissolved into light.
“If I step out, you’ll be trapped here in this abyss. Aren’t you afraid of that?”
Lirian answered firmly.
“Not at all!”
If it meant protecting those she loved, she would gladly pay any price.
The woman’s clear, ringing laughter filled the air.
—Good.
In that instant—
Fwaaah—!
The sword in Lirian’s hand erupted in dark aura.
Her black hair whipped around her, as violet crystals sprouted along the burning aura of the blade.
Her amethyst eyes gleamed brilliantly.
The longsword had transformed into a dazzling toy-like blade.
—Let’s go, my innocent self.
The sword’s voice resonated.
And Lirian answered her future self:
“Of course, my older me!”
—…I’m not old!!
Swinging the toy sword sideways, Lirian shattered the darkness that had engulfed her.
That day, in a remote desert temple, the Sword Demon of the Battlefield descended.
“Ugh…”
Jeril clutched his head, throbbing from ringing ears.
Opening his eyes, he saw a black, monstrous figure rushing toward him.
“…!”
Clang!
Just as panic set in, someone stepped in front of him.
“…Shorty?”
The figure was far smaller than him.
Short arms and legs.
Yet somehow, the back shielding him felt sturdier than even his parents’. His eyes widened.
The child glanced back at him with a slanting look.
“What are you doing? Hurry up and go.”
“…What?”
“Go. You’ll only get in the way.”
That sullen, cocky tone—like a teenager—left Jeril dumbstruck.
Did she eat something weird?
‘She’s always reckless and headstrong, but never this rude…’
Still gaping, he saw Lirian smirk mischievously before whipping her head back around.
The violet-tinted ends of her black hair swayed like a veil.
“Honestly, you’re such an idiot.”
With that, she cut down the onrushing monster and charged straight into the dark blue rift without hesitation.
“Hey, where are you—?!”
Jeril reached out to grab her, but someone else seized his wrist.
“We have to let her go.”
“…Brother?”
“It’s us who’d only be in the way. This is how we help her.”
It was Yuri. He held Jeril back.
“But—!”
“Let’s focus on what we can do. That kid, Illei, should be inside somewhere. If we bring him back, Lirian can get out too.”
Yuri forced down his unease and spoke as calmly as possible.
But his gaze too lingered on his youngest sister’s back as she fended off wave after wave of monsters.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
She moved like a dancer amidst a withered field of flowers.
Yuri wasn’t trained in swordsmanship, yet even he could see—this was no ordinary Lirian.
With every swing of her sword, a monster fell.
To Lirian, her brothers were both precious and burdensome.
“…Alright.”
Grinding his teeth, Jeril rose to his feet.
The two brothers cast one last look at their sister before dashing deeper inside.
“She said he had silver hair, right?”
“Yeah. Silver hair and blue eyes.”
As they ran into the temple’s inner passages, they recalled Lirian’s description of Illei.
“She also said… he sparkled.”
The two fell into silence.
“…What does it mean to look sparkly?”
“No idea.”
No matter how much they had pressed her earlier, the only answer she gave was “sparkly” or “pretty.” They hadn’t gotten any clearer details.
Still, silver hair was rare enough. They scanned their surroundings intently.
The area now looked more like a temple, the iron-barred section behind them.
From behind, the growls of monsters echoed.
The unsettling sound made their expressions harden as they ran.
Finally, they spotted something.
“Useless, aren’t you.”
Underneath the sacred light of a stained-glass window—
A priest in formal robes stood with his back to the light, gripping the collar of a boy in matching white robes.
A boy with silver hair.
Jeril whispered without thinking:
“…He really does sparkle.”
Their eyes met.
The silver-haired boy—Illei Serevia Leonhardt—looked at them, eyes widening in shock.
