285 – The Apostle of Pride -2-

Darkness is coming.

A darkness that would extinguish all the lights in the office was gathering in Hanna’s sword.

-Groan…

The small tremors and the accompanying vibrations snuffed out the candles in the office one by one, calling to Rowen’s hesitating sword.

“What have you done?”

Rowen asked Hanna.

What on earth have you done?

The black aura was a symbol of impurity.

That the aura formed by the swordsman’s will could take on such an ominous hue meant only one thing.

‘Black magic.’

Rowen asked with trembling eyes, but Hanna’s sword had long since fallen from her hand.

“Hystania Hanna!”

“…”

“Aren’t I asking you…!”

-Swish.

Rowen’s words, filled with anger, were cut short. Hanna’s sword had touched his body.

The sword thrown from a distance by Hanna arrived with a heavy thud, leaving a small wound before disappearing.

“…This is.”

Rowen looked at Hannah with trembling eyes, wondering what he had done.

It was neither a sword mixed with false moves nor a true strike mixed with aura. But Rowen, cut by the sword swung in the air, could not hide his confusion.

-Swish.

“…”

With no answer returning, Rowen gritted his teeth against the relentless sword. He did not want to show an ugly side to his daughter’s whims.

“We need to talk in detail.”

With worry and anger, Rowen spoke to Hannah.

Hannah looked down at her sword with shaking eyes, surprised by the ‘will’ that seemed ingrained in her body, making the sword swing.

‘Is this my power?’

Her vision blurred.

The strength filling her body and the ringing in her ears made her feel like she would lose consciousness at any moment.

As if someone whispered ‘murder’ into her ear, her hand holding the sword trembled, and a rage seemed to burst in her chest.

This cannot be.

“Histania Hannah.”

She felt as if she would be swept away by the sword.

With a trembling voice, Hannah spoke to Rowen.

“Sword.”

“…”

“Listen.”

Hannah’s sword began to dance.

*

Blood dripped down.

From the steadfast Rowen, who did not draw his sword, blood blossomed and dripped onto the documents on the desk.

“Why…”

Hannah asked Rowen with a trembling voice, filled with frustration. How much more must she strive to be able to draw that sword?

“Why… won’t you draw your sword…? Why… WHY!!”

Rowen remained silent, his lips sealed.

“I cannot wield a sword.”

“…Am I still lacking?”

“…”

“Am I still not living up to your expectations, Father?”

“No.”

Rowen spoke to Hannah with a heavy heart.

“It’s because I’m not ready yet.”

“Ready. Ready… That damned readiness!!!”

“Histaria Hannah.”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

-Swish.

Hannah’s sword danced again, filled with intense emotion, but Rowen silently observed her delicate blade.

Because Hannah’s sword was delicate.

Just one thing.

The pain as if his heart was being torn apart. That was the greatest agony Rowen felt. He thought all this happened because of him. He couldn’t lift his head due to the guilt.

Rowen said, looking at Hannah’s sword.

“You are still too tender.”

“…How long will you keep saying that?”

“You are too tender to wield a sword, too tender to hurt someone.”

“Shut your mouth.”

Hannah’s sword slashed as she tightly closed her eyes, and Rowen closed his as well.

It seemed he finally understood the path.

The reason why that guy told him to find the way himself. The reason why the lady had scolded him. It felt like he was finally getting a grip and moving forward.

Yes. What I need to do is…

“I am your…”

An apology…

The moment Rowen’s words fell.

[The fairy tale begins.]

A massive murderous intent began to envelop Rowen. The intent was so strong it made the Swordmaster’s shoulders tremble. Rowen stepped back to dodge Hannah’s sword, but…

-Swish.

Ignoring the distance, Hannah’s sword approached, and Rowen ended up with a deep wound on his arm.

‘What happened..?’

Rowen frowned and looked at Hannah, puzzled by the injury from the sword he thought he had figured out. He couldn’t understand what technique she was using.

It couldn’t be called an aura.

Yes, it was as if.

It had broken the constraints of space.

“You’ve learned something strange from that guy.”

Lowen gritted his teeth.

And at the sight of Lowen drawing his sword, Hanna murmured with a bitter smile.

“Haah… It’s been a while. Father’s office.”

Hanna inhaled deeply, smiling. And instinctively, she looked at Lowen’s hand gripping the sword and let out a bitter laugh.

“A sword. You’ve taken it up?”

“Hanna…?”

“Yes~! I am Histania Hanna, the daughter of our father.”

“…”

With a cold voice ringing out, Lowen furrowed his brow in suspicion of Hanna. The woman standing before him didn’t seem to be Hanna. Rather, it felt like looking at a deeper being, no, an apostle.

Unknowingly, Lowen gripped his sword, and Hanna exclaimed in awe.

“Wow…”

Hanna glanced at Lowen and shrugged her shoulders.

“So you’re finally going to spar with me.”

“…”

“I begged you to do it just once for my birthday, and now you’re willing? I’m honored.”

“…This kind of conversation isn’t called a spar. It’s called a battle.”

“I didn’t want to spar with my father like this either, but what can I do? My grudge must be too deep.”

Hanna chuckled bitterly as she spoke to Lowen.

“How about it. My sword?”

“…”

“Wasn’t it strong?”

“…Histania Hanna.”

“Only this much would catch father’s eye, right? I have to do whatever it takes.”

Hanna, as if she had become someone else, clicked her tongue at Lowen and said,

“Say something. Father. Don’t just mumble like a mute who’s eaten honey.”

At the sight of Hanna’s sword blackened by burning, Lowen swallowed hard.

“Sword.”

-Hiss.

“Draw it.”

-Grrrr…!

At Hannah’s thrust, Rowen drew his sword.

The one bestowed by the Emperor.

It wasn’t at his daughter’s request that he drew the sword. It felt as if not drawing it now would bring great harm. The blade, slowly extending with murderous intent, felt different from any Hannah had thrust before.

-Crack.

Yes, as if mocking the Empire’s sword.

The blue blade, now revealed from its sheath, heavily struck down Hannah’s sword. The tingling vibration forced Rowen to tightly shut his eyes and look at Hannah.

“Come to your senses, Histania Hannah.”

Hannah shrugged her shoulders lightly and slowly drew a cross in the air.

“One.”

“…!”

Rowen’s defense left another trail of blood on his body and fell away. Hannah, with trembling eyes open, asked Rowen.

“Does it hurt?”

“…”

“You shouldn’t say it hurts with just this.”

“…”

“That person…”

“…”

“Suffered more than you.”

“…”

With Hannah’s words pouring out emptily, Rowen grasped his sword again. And Hannah swung her sword once more.

“Two.”

-Swish.

“Three.”

-Ugh…!

At the sight of Rowen exhaling a faint groan, Hannah’s lips curled up bitterly. She must have been the first to push the Empire’s sword to such limits.

“Do you still not pity me, Father?”

“I desperately learned the sword, didn’t I? To gain father’s approval.”

“Focus on the sword.”

“Yes, I must. That’s what I should do, but…”

-Swish.

“This can’t be called a sparring match like father says, can it?”

Hanna asked, looking at Rowen who was bleeding.

“Why don’t you use your aura?”

“…”

“Father could easily defeat me. You don’t need to parry my sword to take something like my neck, so why…”

“That’s because you’re not a sinner.”

Hanna gave an awkward laugh and nodded.

“Ah… Right. I’m not a sinner now.”

With a hollow laugh, Hanna slowly gathered her aura, as if to signal the real battle was beginning.

“Now, draw your sword.”

“…”

“Let’s do it like when father came to kill me.”

“What…?”

“Why?”

-Bang…!

“Father has always wanted that.”

Rowen took a deep breath and drew his sword as Hanna charged, her sword kicking up the ground.

And then.

-Clang.

The first clash with Hanna’s sword began to shake the ground.

The clashing swords made the mansion’s curtains dance. Papers fluttered around the office. Rowen’s broken wine glass. In the chaos of the office, only Hanna’s empty laughter filled the air.

“I’ve been through so much.”

“…”

“How much I’ve cried because of you.”

“Ugh…!”

“I… I cursed that person because of you… Why don’t you sacrifice anything?”

Hanna drew a dark line. Leaving a deeper darkness in the shadows.

Rowen raised his sword in response, and as a golden aura began to bloom from the tip, Hanna crushed it underfoot with a bitter laugh.

“You’re slow.”

Light and darkness.

Knight and sinner.

The moment their contrasting strikes collided, the office’s glass windows shattered with a resonant clang, scattering like blades across the floor.

With a rustle, Hanna stepped firmly on the glass shards and thrust the tip of her sword in front of Rowen.

And she murmured softly.

“Histinia’s First Form.”

Rowen’s eyes widened at the sight of the sword form, taught only to the head who would lead the family.

“That sword is…”

“Yes. My father’s sword.”

A small wind began to gather around Hanna’s blade. She unleashed the Histania sword, preserved and refined from generation to generation, without giving any quarter.

“Formless.”

Rowen twisted his body quickly, trying to strike back with his sword, but…

“This form. Nameless.”

Overwhelmed by Hanna’s relentless assault, Rowen was swept away helplessly. Hanna’s voice echoed in his ears as he parried the barrage of strikes.

“Why… didn’t you come to save me?”

“What…?”

“Why… did you leave me to die in that cold cave?”

Rowen’s eyes shook violently with Hanna’s trembling voice, as he pondered how she knew that story.

But Hanna…

“Pfft… Hahahaha!! Ah… what’s with that face?”

She burst into laughter, as if drunk on pleasure.

“Ah… this is driving me crazy.”

“…”

“Why are you so scared? What do you think I’ve done?

With a trembling voice, Rowen asked Hanna.

“Who are you?”

Hanna tilted her head and asked Lowen.

“Why?”

“…”

“Or are you trying to kill me?”

“Hanna!”

“Pfft… I am my father’s daughter…”

Hanna looked into the void with a sense of regret and shook her head.

“Ah, I think I shouldn’t say any more. Honestly, it’s already a close call. Anyway.”

Hanna, holding a sword, said to Lowen.

“Please don’t hate him too much.”

Hanna extended the sword, heavy with deep darkness, towards Lowen.

Just like that.

The moment Hanna’s sword touched Lowen’s neck.

A ‘clang’ sound echoed between Lowen’s trembling eyes.

Hanna let go of the sword with tears streaming down.

“Why… did you do it.”

[Receive Hystania Lowen’s one-second style. (1/1)]

Hanna’s sword, which had seemed so distant, finally reached Lowen.