The reason for choosing the Radiant Holy Sword wasn’t anything special.
Fan service—purely and simply, that was the bland reason behind it.
I had taken a quick look back in the waiting room earlier, and it seemed like the first set had turned out more striking than I expected.
And… the first set’s video, edited into short clips and GIFs, was entertaining to watch—even for me, the one in the middle of it all.
After all, the weapon itself had always been a flashy one in Soul Warfare, with its extravagant effects.
As for the second set, I satisfied my urge by using the broken greatsword.
I figured, “This much should be fine, right?”
But now, looking at Lotus’ weapon, I could tell that our positions and thoughts had become significantly entangled.
***
Boom!
Lotus barely managed to block the Radiant Holy Sword’s short, sharp strike with the flat side of her broken greatsword.
A minute had already passed, but it felt like the third and final set between me and Lotus had gone beyond the stage of strategizing and execution.
There was a palpable feeling in the air.
Since Lotus wasn’t originally a user of the broken greatsword, comparing this to the first set would be unfair—her movements had long since lost their edge.
No matter how sharp instincts and refined senses may be, limitations always exist.
‘It was like the sword she was wielding—damaged, dulled, and imperfect.’
That thought popped into my mind as I observed her stance.
On the other hand, the situation felt unfamiliar.
Until now, I had never faced the broken greatsword as an opponent.
Of all things, I found myself facing this weapon against Lotus, a professional gamer.
It was a strangely ironic experience.
‘Ah, I see.’
‘Was this the sight my opponents had witnessed when they faced me?’
Even though I knew it wasn’t proper to indulge in such musings in the middle of a match, especially against a formidable opponent, I couldn’t help myself.
***
“Hyah!”
Perhaps Lotus thought she had found an opening, or maybe she just believed she had to take action now.
She swung down with a stiff, forceful strike.
This weapon, lacking combat skills, could only rely on timing its strikes.
The broken greatsword offered no opportunity for parrying—its remaining arsenal was limited to monotonous attacks.
I blocked the blow with the Radiant Holy Sword, the two blades clashing and emitting a sharp, ringing sound.
“Gripping the hilt of the holy sword tightly,” I spoke.
“Don’t give up.”
“I haven’t given up either.”
That was it.
I pushed her blade away and backed off, creating some distance between us once again.
Whether she would rise again or crumble entirely from here on out—that was up to her.
Out of curiosity, I focused on observing Lotus.
From a distance, her expression appeared remarkably composed.
At the start, she had been visibly shaken by the unfamiliar weapon matchup.
Now, her dulled movements indicated that she was faltering, losing her rhythm.
Yet, despite her unsteady and fragile stance, her eyes still held a light that refused to surrender.
‘Good resolve.’
I smiled faintly and adjusted the console mid-duel.
It was my way of responding to her determination—with the highest praise I could offer for her spirit.
That would be…
Lotus’ thoughts were a mess.
Her weapon had changed, so one might argue that she was now on equal footing with me compared to the earlier sets.
But such reasoning was purely outcome-based—something she found unfair.
Even if we weren’t fighting with identical weapon types, she had hoped for at least an evenly matched battle in terms of weaponry.
What truly mattered was the process, the fleeting moments of combat.
Like in the first set.
But now…
***
“Hyah!”
Her mental instability caused her attack to lack sharpness.
The broken greatsword she swung with all her might was blocked by the holy sword.
A back-and-forth contest of strength.
The clash of the blades produced a sound so clear and resonant that it felt almost purifying.
And at that moment…
“Don’t give up.”
“I haven’t given up either.”
‘Don’t give up? On what?’
Even as she gripped the sword in her hand, that question floated to the surface of her mind.
‘Ah!’
Only then did she truly see the weapon she was holding—the broken greatsword.
The rusty, chipped blade with its jagged edge and broken, slanted body.
For some reason, it felt as if this sword was a reflection of herself—damaged, tarnished, perhaps even irreparable.
‘How ridiculous.’
The current state of Friede and the Holy Sword couldn’t have been more radiant and dazzling.
Even though it was the same weapon, unlike the previous set, the Broken Greatsword in this match seemed far more insignificant.
‘Damn it.’
She was frustrated.
And yet…
‘I can’t stop now.’
Sometimes, while playing games, moments like this—when things simply didn’t go well—would arise.
In such situations, ordinary players would usually give up.
But she couldn’t let go like they would.
Her pride, which had always pushed through directly and confidently since her debut as a pro gamer, wouldn’t allow her to quit.
No, if all she’d ever done was complain about the game, she wouldn’t have become a pro gamer in the first place.
A pro gamer wasn’t someone who gave up in the face of unfavorable situations in a game.
Instead, they…
‘Overcome them.’
When Friede pushed her sword away, creating some distance, they entered yet another standoff.
It was a tangled draft pick, a twisted situation.
Such vexing, tangled days were rare in her life.
Even if her weapon-wielding senses weren’t as sharp or precise as in the previous set, even if they lacked their former edge…
Yeon-ggot couldn’t abandon the fight.
She realized now that she should have fought without attachment from the very beginning, embracing things as they were.
It was such an obvious lesson, yet it had taken her until now to understand.
With a bitter smile, her once-chaotic thoughts became as calm and clear as a still lake.
At that moment, a change occurred in Friede’s stance ahead of her.
‘What’s that?’
Even from a distance, the gesture was unmistakable.
Yeon-ggot recognized it well.
It was a customary greeting performed at the start of a duel, a ceremonial gesture to honor the fight before it began.
Although it could be executed physically, Friede deliberately used the console to perform it.
“Tsk!”
A small laugh escaped Yeon-ggot as she mirrored the gesture with her own console.
Both warriors, their swords pointed at each other, raised their weapons in the same stance:
With the sword tip aimed forward, they bent their left arms to rest their right hands on their shoulders, lifting the blade high.
It was a ritual known as “The Undying Salute,” a final acknowledgment of respect between opponents in the dying world.
After bowing their swords in respect, the two warriors corrected their stances.
Then, for the final clash, they sprinted toward each other.
‘Well… For the ending of a woman trapped in her own obsessions…’
As the Holy Sword and the Broken Greatsword crossed paths, ‘It’s not bad.’
With their bodies passing by one another in the decisive moment, A small smile appeared on Yeon-ggot’s lips.
***
[Friede! God-rie-de! Emperor-rie-de! King-rie-de! What else is there?]
[Cut it out, you idiot.]
[Do you even know who this is? I’ve been watching Friede’s streams since her first live broadcast! I’m a founding viewer, you know!]
[Did you create her channel? Founding viewer, my ass. LOL]
[Friede and Yeon-ggot… Stop fighting and get married.]
[I’m reporting this lunatic. They’re digging their own grave.]
[As long as it’s not me~]
The chatroom was on the verge of exploding, heated to the point that even a minor spark could set it off.
The fiery atmosphere in the chat created an updraft of excitement, enough to stir up the commentators as well.
“What an incredible match that was! However, as with any competition, victory and defeat are inevitable. The winner of this final set in the STK Tournament is none other than Friede! Let’s connect with Jiyoung, who’s on-site, for an interview with our champion.”
“Congratulations on your victory, Friede.”
“Thank you.”
Friede’s calm voice resonated through the microphone, causing the viewers to erupt into chaos.
[It’s her!!]
[Ear candy! That voice is amazing!]
[So, so good.]
[Wait, is that really Friede’s voice? No wonder everyone’s crazy about her.]
[I’m hearing it for the first time, too… Friede, Friede! No wonder people keep singing about her!]
The commentators, having prepared questions to review the match, quickly fired off their inquiries one after another.
They asked how she felt about winning against Yeon-ggot.
They asked why she chose the Holy Sword and Broken Greatsword.
They asked about the emotions behind performing “The Undying Salute” during the final moments.
And finally…
“One last question: Many are speculating about your potential debut as a professional gamer. Given that you’ve defeated Yeon-ggot, people believe you have what it takes to compete as a pro. What are your thoughts on this?”
“Ah, hmm. I’m not sure.”
A professional debut…
Friede had never seriously considered becoming a pro gamer.
Streaming was already fulfilling enough, both personally and in terms of building her audience.
Plus, as a streamer, she had more freedom to pursue her ultimate goal: recruiting adventurers.
Just as she was about to express her disinterest unconsciously, she added, “I’m currently streaming online. I’m happy with my streams for now, so I’m not planning a professional debut.”
“That’s unfortunate. Thank you for the interview, and congratulations again on your victory. This concludes the commentary team’s segment.”
Her straightforward tone brought sighs of disappointment not only from the commentators but also from the arena audience and chatroom.
While the commentators wrapped up the interview with a resigned nod, Jiyoung prepared to take over for the closing segment.
Though she no longer felt as tense as she had during the earlier interview, Jiyoung couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret.
‘If only she’d go pro.’
She couldn’t shake the thought that an extraordinary rookie gamer had slipped away, someone who could have ushered in a new era.
Someone who could have surpassed existing stars like Warden and Yeon-ggot, reshaping the competitive scene.
But since Friede herself had no desire to take that path, it was like a goldmine that no one could ever dig up.
Setting aside her musings, Jiyoung returned to the task at hand.
“Many of you were hoping for Friede’s professional debut, but unfortunately, that won’t be happening for now. As much as we’re disappointed, we’ll have to respect her choice. Now, for the final question: Friede, do you have any closing remarks?”
“Ah, a closing remark… Hmm.”
Friede faced the camera and lifted her visor slightly.
“Please show lots of love for my stream.”
Her subtle movement revealed just the edges of her lower eyelashes, while her crimson lips curved into a soft smile.
The frame perfectly captured her playful yet captivating expression.