“It hurts…”
I murmured, placing my hand over the aching spot on my abdomen.
The place where Ruina’s sword had struck continued to throb with a faint pain.
It seemed I had a bruise.
I sat down a bit away from the campfire, choosing a spot where the others wouldn’t see me in this state.
If my companions saw me looking as though I had just been in a major fight, they’d surely worry needlessly.
Just a short rest here, I told myself.
As a dragonkin with rapid regeneration, the pain would subside quickly.
With that thought, I leaned against a tree and let myself sit. Then, I began replaying the events from earlier in my mind.
Ruina’s swordsmanship—it was fierce.
The Wind Dragon’s Sword truly poured everything into sustaining offense, a stark contrast to the Fire Dragon’s Sword.
Because of that, I had been hit once, leaving me in this state now.
Though the situation was laughable, I couldn’t help but smile. It didn’t feel bad—on the contrary, I was happy. Something I had long wished for had finally come true.
All thanks to her.
Because of her, I could now begin to learn the swordsmanship of my father, a chance to create another connection to Draken, my homeland.
Of course, learning wouldn’t be easy. I might even fail. But the mere opportunity to learn filled me with joy. Even a clumsy attempt at following in my father’s footsteps was rewarding.
Every swing of the sword brought back forgotten memories. Dormant recollections from deep within my mind surfaced with every technique I saw.
“Oh, yes, it was like that back then,” I found myself thinking.
Even now, as I rested, precious memories that I had forgotten were returning.
Closing my eyes, fragments of my cherished past began to resurface.
Memories so dear…
“Run, Princess!”
Suddenly, a sharp, piercing sound echoed in my ears.
Startled, I turned toward the source of the noise.
But there was no one there.
Yet the cacophony continued. Shouts, screams, explosions, the clash of metal against metal—amidst it all, voices calling out occasionally.
The unbearable noise made me grimace. Covering my ears, I closed my eyes tightly, afraid I might go deaf if I continued to listen.
As I crouched there, blocking my ears and holding my breath, the noise gradually subsided. Carefully, I removed my hands from my ears and opened my eyes.
A blinding light filled my vision.
I blinked and saw orange flames surrounding me, blazing brightly.
Terrified, I ran, desperate to escape the fire that seemed intent on consuming me.
Panic took over, and I lost track of my actions. My legs tangled, and I tripped, falling to the ground.
Scrambling, I raised my head—and saw someone.
They were bleeding. A sword embedded in their chest poured blood like a waterfall.
“I’m sorry, Agnes… This father of yours… could not protect you until the end…”
The sight froze me in place.
My legs refused to move. The flames drew closer, but no strength came to my limbs. Though I knew I needed to escape, my body wouldn’t obey.
The fire engulfed us, and I shut my eyes, bracing for the flames to consume me.
When I opened them again, the scenery had changed. A star-filled night sky stretched above me.
Lowering my gaze, I saw a person lying on the ground.
Blood flowed from their chest.
For some reason, this man looked furious—at me.
“Is this truly what you wished for? To be oppressed, discriminated against, stripped of honor until you became a mere spectacle, living a miserable life? Is that what you desired?!”
Though I didn’t understand his anger, I moved quickly to help him. I reached out to lift him, to aid him.
Then, I saw it. My hand was covered in blood.
And in my hand was a blood-stained sword.
Startled, I dropped the sword and fell to the ground. The weapon made a faint sound as it hit the floor.
The man continued to shout.
“What difference is there between living a predetermined life dictated by others and being livestock raised by humans?!
Our honor lies in the dirt, our glorious past forgotten. The young are born ignorant of history, and the heroes of the past remain complacent in the present, unwilling to rise again and reclaim our honor!”
I shook my head violently, shouting “No!” repeatedly to deny his words.
But he continued yelling.
“Is this what you wanted?! If so, you should have let us fight to the death instead! Answer me, Princess! No—answer me, Your Majesty!”
I kept shaking my head, covering my ears, and closing my eyes.
When his voice finally faded, I opened my eyes again. Trembling all over, I cautiously surveyed my surroundings.
This time, I saw a black-haired woman glaring at me with bloodshot eyes.
She shouted loudly:
“Agnes, disgrace of the royal family, traitor! Even in death, I will curse you! I swear it!”
Her chest was pierced by a sword.
And the hilt of that sword—
Was in my hand.
Horrified, I let go, frantically waving my hands as if to deny my actions.
Then, I covered my ears and closed my eyes once more.
After a moment, I opened them again, trembling as the scenery shifted once more.
This time, a white-haired woman stood before me, looking down at me.
“If you’re going to act, then choose! Stop waffling like a hypocrite. Push your will onto us if you must!”
“She began to hurl accusations at me with an angry face.
Terrified by her voice and words, I started to step backward, little by little. My steps faltered, and I tripped, falling down. Instinctively, I closed my eyes again.
After some time, I slowly opened them once more.
This time, I saw a man. His body was clad in black armor. Beneath the bright moon, he and I stood there, bathed in the light reflecting off his dark armor.
He pointed his sword at me.
In a trembling voice, as if suppressing something, he began to speak.
[Princess… I’m sorry. I can’t carry out His Majesty’s final command.]
His eyes held a mixture of emotions—anger, regret, and, most of all, sorrow.
Seeing him like that strangely made my heart ache. Hot tears began to flow from my eyes. I wanted to say something to him, to shout, but my voice was caught, stuck in my throat.
My mouth moved desperately, but no sound came out, only silent cries directed at him.
Unable to keep looking at him, I slowly closed my eyes once more.
After a brief moment, I opened them again.
The sight that greeted me was familiar—my companions resting in the present.
I quickly scanned my surroundings and confirmed that I had returned. A sigh of relief escaped my lips.
But I began to ponder: What were those visions?
Then, I realized.
They were the path I had walked—the history of my life.
Betrayed by those I trusted most.
Cursed, criticized, and scorned by my remaining kin.
And losing the connections I held most dear.
This was my history.
I wondered: What remains for me? I desperately tried to think of an answer.
Frantically, I looked around, searching for what belonged to me—what was left of me.
Then, my gaze fell upon the sword at my waist.
As I stared at it, memories began to surface, unbidden.
[Agnes, look at this sword. Isn’t it splendid? I’ll give it to you—won’t you learn the Wind Dragon’s Sword from your father? No…? You think the Fire Dragon’s Sword is cooler…? Hah, what’s so good about such a brutish sword style?]
The memory brought an involuntary smile to my face.
[Hahaha! Don’t worry—I’ll protect you, our family, and all our people. How admirable of you to think about this already! My precious daughter!]
But the smile didn’t last.
As more memories resurfaced, they wiped away my smile and whispered cruel truths.
That I could never return to those days.
Panicked, I hurriedly unbuckled my belt and drew the sword in its sheath. I hugged it tightly.
My hands trembled as I pulled it free, and my entire body shivered like a leaf in the wind.
Clutching the sword to my chest, I curled up, trembling endlessly like a frightened child.
And, as always, I began to murmur in a trembling voice. Slowly, gently, as if soothing a child.
“It’s okay. You’re doing well… Don’t cry. You mustn’t cry. You know that. It’s okay… You’re doing fine… Think of the people you carry on your shoulders.”
[I’m sorry… I’m truly sorry… for not keeping my promise… Agnes, could you grant me this final request…?]
My father’s voice echoed in my ears—a voice I had never forgotten since that day.
[Be strong, Agnes.]
“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
[May your path always be filled with the glory of the gods.]
I hugged the sword tighter, repeating the words over and over.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re fine. It’s okay, it’s okay…”
Endlessly.
“It’ll all work out. It’ll be okay…”
Endlessly.
“It’s fine, right? Don’t you think so too? Right…? So…”
Endlessly…
“I’m okay…”
Endlessly…