As the strong grip pulled on my face, ice-cold water fell on my head. The Milky Way in the sky, beyond the curtain of the waterfall, appeared before my sight. In the middle of all this was a large man.
A long scar ran from his right temple to below the mask he wore. Bushy eyebrows. Intense gaze. Below, hidden by the black mask, although not clearly visible, there was an expression that was evidently not at all kind.
—A woman?
Above all, the man's eyes. Light green eyes, apparently sunken.
—I thought you weren't afraid. Is it because you're a woman?
And a voice mixed with mockery. It was familiar to me, as if I had heard it somewhere before. And it was annoying. Why? An uncomfortable feeling, usually hard to perceive, hit my mind as a trigger. The instincts that had been hidden in the abyss for a long time slowly began to stir. They were trying to unleash something unpleasant. But I was not a swordswoman guided by instinct.
"Calm down."
I had to live first to be able to think about something like that, so I put on the pearl earring hanging from my right ear. A powerful current spread through the waterfall and resonated in all directions. While I held the sword with my left hand, a satisfying sensation of cold touched my palm.
Ah, I see. This was it. This is how it felt to have a sword.
I cut the waterfall. Through the gap in the cut water, I could see that the man's wide-open eyes grew larger. He had no intention of retreating. I charged directly at the man.
The man's swordsmanship was excellent. Excellent skill. Excellent posture. There was no other choice. I knew he was an exceptional swordsman. After being pushed back for a while, the man planted his feet on the riverbed and barely managed to stop.
—Who are you?
The eyes above the mask drew an intriguing curve.
—A woman. Left-handed. Agile. Very competent. I had never heard of a swordsman like you. I'm in shock. Where do you come from?
Why was it like this? I was not interested in who that man was. I didn't care if he had any relationship with the sword master or if he was the culprit who stole Dian Cecht's diary. There was only one thing I was curious about.
—Your face.
—What?
—I need to see your face. Take off your mask.
—I've heard enough nonsense.
If he didn't take it off himself, I would. I infused the sword with some of my ego. A blast of black light emerged from the blade and cut the air horizontally. However, the man had already reached the rocks above the waterfall.
—A sword demon?
His question was drowned out by consecutive explosions of sword energy. Water and earth shot out from all directions. The intense sound that filled the night sky made my head spin.
"Kill him."
The sword whispered. An unknown resonance. It should have been a voice I had never heard before, but strangely, it wasn't unfamiliar to me. I had been hearing this voice for a long time. Ever since I annihilated demons and massacred Mephisto's army...
"Kill him."
My body filled with energy. It was as if I had gone back four years. A figure emerged from the mist and brandished his sword. I barely managed to block it, but my arm lost balance and tilted slightly. Unlike before, the man now held the sword with his left hand.
He was an ambidextrous swordsman. He knew how to handle a sword with his left hand.
—What is your purpose in daring to infiltrate the emperor's vault without fear?
Cut him down.
—Who sent you?
The man's voice moved my mind, evoking an unexpected and disturbing hallucination.
—What are you talking about? Once the war ends, I'll leave this miserable island.
"Kill him."
—You can't live like a beggar. Think about how we will survive. Although we have nothing now, I can make a living as a soldier, but you can't, sister.
"Cut him down."
Oh, it was very noisy. In an attempt to dispel the hallucination, I brandished my sword with force. The flying sword hit a leaning tree. Driven by the intense heat that filled my mind, I spat the question at the man.
—I know you. You died a long time ago. Isn't that so? There's no way you're alive.
His eyes twisted unpleasantly.
—Are you crazy?
This man was an impostor.
"Kill him."
It couldn't be real.
"Kill him."
—Among all women who wield swords, none are sane. Are you also possessed by your sword's ego?
"Cut him down."
I brandished the sword without regard and a gap became visible under his armpit. I moved my arm to stab him, but my body froze just before making contact. No, I couldn't finish him. I couldn't at all. Taking advantage of my hesitation, the man readied his sword and drove it into my left shoulder. In that instant.
—Ah.
My mind cleared like magic. The chaotic voices that had tormented my head and body disappeared, leaving behind only a stinging pain. The attack that hit my shoulder stopped the sword's resonance.
—Don't worry, I'm not dead. But now my right arm is as useless as a rag.
—That's horrible. How is your condition? Do we need to amputate it?
—No way. I managed to find and recover the finger bones that were lost due to the demon army. If we have a military mage, they should be able to reattach them.
The past I saw in the trap. That arm in the past had not been destroyed by a demon. I broke it myself. For a single reason: to regain the sanity I had almost completely abandoned.
"Yes, that's what it feels like to brandish the sword with a clear mind. It's like standing and dreaming."
The more I resonated with my sword, the deeper the pain I needed to return to reason. Damn sword. As strength left my left arm, the pristine blade slipped from my hands and sank into the water. At the same time, a cold sword touched my chin. The man who raised my chin with the tip of the sword explored my face as if he were searching.
—What is your name?
Facing him was very strange, almost surreal, like walking on water. I thought that by escaping the state of confusion and facing him with a clearer mind, I could free myself from my delusion. But no. I was not wrong. This man was not an impostor. The more I looked into his eyes, the stronger my conviction grew. This man was real.
—...I can't hear any resonance from your sword.
—What?
I looked at the man who had calloused hands. His right hand was similar. Both parts showed signs of diligent and unbiased training.
—You are calm and collected. You are an excellent swordsman. You master a sword that is completely opposite to your dirty way of speaking, so you must be something more than exceptional.
—Why have you been saying nonsense for a while?
A small laugh escaped my mouth. His rough way of speaking remained unchanged. When I regained my sanity, I took the opportunity to evaluate his identity. Judging by how he asked me why I came out of the vault, it was evident he was a person of the sword master. However, his skills were incredibly exceptional to be just one of many knights of the Berkley-Gratten family. He might even be better than Jean. A swordsman with such remarkable skill and talent at that age...
—Ah, right. Are you Gavroche? You've learned the sword master's teachings well.
The man, lightly exercising his neck with his eyes closed, let out a rough sigh.
—I can't kill you, so at least surrender for now. It's unpleasant to have to hit a woman, but you just have to behave and fall asleep quietly.
What is this nonsense, you idiot?
—You're annoying. Do you differentiate between men and women when you're a swordsman? You may be big, but you still act like a child. When will you grow up?
—Shut up.
The man sharply turned his shoulders to generate more force in his blow. Did he think I would obediently accept the blow, due to the major injury I had in my shoulder? His immature appearance made me laugh involuntarily. However, in the middle of the laughter, the question still persisted. How is it that you're still alive?
—Andert.
My younger brother.
—Why don't you remember me?
—Who... are you calling now? —The man's fist loosened a bit. Taking the opportunity, I quickly kicked the sword that was on the ground, propelling it into the air. And I grabbed the handle with my right hand, not my left hand, and cut it horizontally.
—Agh!
The man stepped back with a short gasp and, at the same time, the black mask covering his face split cleanly, leaving only traces that scattered with the wind. When his hidden lips and chin were exposed, I couldn't utter a word.
A long scar ran across his face. Various complex emotions surfaced like a tidal wave, threatening to burst my heart. I felt suffocated by overwhelming feelings, as if I were drowning. I was not wrong. This man was my brother, **Andert**, whom I believed dead.
"You're alive."
Andert was alive. Now with the name **Gavroche**.
"How?"
No, that question didn't matter right now. Andert was alive. Although he didn't recognize me, he was alive.