Sword Devouring Swordmaster-Chapter 72 : Chapter 72

Chapter 72. Seol Yoon (1)
What was war? To Seol Yoon, war had been like a bolt of lightning—sudden, senseless, and blinding. The soldiers on horseback had given no warning, no explanation, before they burned and trampled her village. Everyday life crumbled in an instant. The kind woman who used to tell her jokes, the little brother who feared insects, the children who played together until dusk—all of them died.
Seol Yoon never knew how the walls of her homeland had fallen, nor how bravely Han’s army had fought. She never saw their resistance, nor their valor. To her, war had been nothing more than a one-sided massacre. By the time the invaders reached her village, Han was already in the throes of destruction. The conquerors took delight in crushing what remained—slaughtering those who offered no resistance.
Thus, Seol Yoon did not understand war.
All she remembered were the deaths of the innocent, the blood of children, the sound of trembling breaths fading into silence, the acrid scent of earth and smoke, the reek of burnt corpses that filled her village. That was all. Wherever the conquerors passed, color vanished from the world.
Her world had ended that day.
Since then, Seol Yoon’s life has been empty. There had been anger, yes—but it was faint, a flickering ember. What filled her heart was loss. It felt as though the world had stolen everything precious from her. A girl stripped of all she had ever held dear had lost the color of life itself. The world had become gray, and she swung her sword without meaning, in a void devoid of feeling.
To reclaim color—to fill the hollow space within—she could only try to recover what she had lost.
As her father once said, she would ascend as an Immortal, to the paradise above.
Seol Yoon believed that once she regained what had been taken, she could return to being the girl she once was—innocent, carefree, laughing without thought.
For that, she was willing to do anything.
Anything, to bring back those lost days.
“Keuhk—”
Obtaining the 「Dragon Sword」 was part of that journey. There was a legend—that the one who possessed the relic of the dragon could summon the true king. As one born of the East, Seol Yoon knew what that meant. The true king was the founder of Han—the progenitor.
In the hand of an Eastern swordsman, the will of that ancient ancestor within the Dragon Sword could awaken.
It wasn’t as though awakening the progenitor’s will granted any great power.
He was a figure from a bygone age, able only to lend wisdom on rare occasions—unable to affect the world physically, or shake heaven and earth like in the founding myths.
But Seol Yoon had one question she had to ask him.
If one became an Immortal, could they truly reach paradise?
Would the people she had loved—her family, her village—be there waiting for her?
It was the most important question in the world to her. And if anyone would know the answer, it would be the founder who had once built the very foundation of this land.
That was why Seol Yoon had always desired the Dragon Sword.
If wielding it would tell her whether the path she walked was truly right, she would do anything.
Standing on the side of the 「Great Land」 and cutting down the soldiers of Han? That was nothing. After all, this world was nothing but an illusion—a recreated memory. Killing phantoms wasn’t difficult. Besides, she resented them.
If they had been just a little stronger, if they had endured just a little longer, her village might not have been destroyed. Her tragedy might never have happened. Everything might not have been taken from her.
So yes—these soldiers were her enemies, too.
Men who failed in their duty to protect their own.
“……”
And yet—
“I’m… sorry.”
“...Why.”
“Because I couldn’t… protect you.”
Why did the dying soldiers apologize to her?
“I’m sorry. Forgive me.”
Seol Yoon didn’t understand. Even as she cut them down and drenched herself in their blood, she couldn’t comprehend it.
Only later did she realize the truth.
It was an echo.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, child.”
The soldiers in this spirit world weren’t actually speaking to her.
That faint, trembling voice—she had heard it before. Not here, but long ago, on a desolate plain covered in blood and dust, where a broken soldier had found her.
He had not fought the enemy with his shattered spear. Instead, he had lifted a dying girl—one drowning in the blood of her fallen home.
“You have to live.”
He had been a defeated soldier of a fallen kingdom. A man who had lost his commander, his lord, and his homeland. He had taken the hand of a girl who had lost her world.
“No matter how hopeless, no matter how cruel, you must live.”
That was why Seol Yoon could not smile.
Why could she only wear that sorrowful face?
“If you survive, you can see tomorrow.”
***
It was a memory from long ago.
Her village had become a wasteland. No more smoke rose from the chimneys—only the black smoke of burning bodies. The smell of cooking fires and burning flesh were not the same; the stench of charred human meat was unbearable.
Seol Yoon crawled among corpses and pools of blood.
The conquerors wanted no survivors. They scoured the ruined village, performing executions on the already dead—stabbing lifeless bodies just to make sure.
Even the dead, Seol Yoon thought, were being wounded again.
She wished she had died then, together with her parents. But somehow, she survived. And now, she was too frail to choose death. She feared blades, fists, kicks—the savage violence the plainsmen would unleash upon her. She feared everything.
The world that had once been warm and gentle now terrified her.
Was the world always this harsh, this lonely?
Were humans always this cruel?
She wandered for days—how many, she no longer knew.
She hadn’t eaten in as long. Eventually, the lost girl collapsed in the barren ruins of her village. Under the scorching sun, parched and delirious, she thirsted. The only water left was rot and blood.
She chose blood.
Pressing her face into a crimson puddle, the weak girl began to drink.
Her tears fell into the blood as she sobbed, even as the pool began to drown her.
Just when she thought perhaps dying like this wouldn’t be so bad, a rough hand seized her by the hair and pulled her up.
Through hazy eyes, she saw a soldier—bloodied, dust-covered, leaning on a broken spear.
He lifted her frail body into his mangled arms, without question or explanation, and said only—
“I’m sorry, child.”
Somehow, those words comforted her.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
“……”
“You did nothing wrong.”
She remembered that the sunlight that day had felt strangely warm.
“So you must live.”
***
Now, Seol Yoon’s eyes were clouded with sorrow. Yet her sword was far too dangerous. More than ever, her beauty carried a fatal edge. A deep, thunderous horn blared.
The defenders of Han shouted—
“Form ranks! The Great Warriors of the Plains are coming! The true lances that once conquered the steppes themselves are here to tear down these walls!”
The defenders moved in unison, the warriors among them readying their weapons.
Steel clashed, arrows flew blindly, bodies fell and tangled in the mud. Blood turned the earth to red mire. The origins of the battle no longer mattered.
And then—The 「Dragon Sword」 at my waist began to tremble.
『───.』
As if trying to speak.
『───!』
But to me, its sound was nothing but noise—like metal scraping metal, or a beast’s growl.
I couldn’t understand its meaning.
Then, the ground began to shake.
A long spear streaked through the air like a ray of light, impaling several of Han’s soldiers. At the same time, a booming laugh echoed.
I saw him—a massive warrior clad in blue armor, mounted on a great warhorse.
“How dare a petty nation defy the will of the Great Land! You will know today just how small you are!”
This one was different. His aura, his presence—everything.
“Sword Demon Liam.”
It was Maia’s voice beside me.
“Yes.”
“That one looks fit for warriors to face.”
“I agree.”
“But there are plenty of others to deal with here.”
She raised her hand, pointing ahead.
“Sword Demon Liam!”
“Speak.”
“If you don’t mind—will you let me fight that warrior first?”
She was pointing at Seol Yoon. The Black Bride, with her sorrowful eyes.
“I haven’t felt this alive in ages. Even if I lose, I want to fight her. In the Lakota Mountains, there wasn’t a single female warrior my age stronger than I—but that one… she looks even mightier. I can’t resist!”
Maia’s face burned with genuine excitement.
I smiled faintly and nodded.
“Go ahead.”
Maia was a mighty warrior—one of the few granted the title Valkyrie among the northern barbarians, a title reserved for those who had proven themselves in battle.
And yet—“It won’t be easy.”
I couldn’t picture Maia defeating Seol Yoon.
“Truly.”
***
Amid the furnace heat of battle, Seol Yoon felt lost.
Her body swung her sword by instinct, but her mind drifted elsewhere.
Why?
Did she feel guilty for killing soldiers of Han? Or had her past trauma been stirred anew? She didn’t know.
It felt like wandering in circles—like walking the same path endlessly. When she’d first heard the War Duel’s theme, she’d been angry. But, as always, her anger had cooled quickly.
Her days were filled with emptiness, her emotions hollow. Anger, like fire, needed fuel—and Seol Yoon had nothing left to burn.
Everything had been taken. Everything.
Was it sorrow? Confusion? Self-loathing, for killing echoes of her homeland’s soldiers just to obtain the Dragon Sword? Or was it simple exhaustion from endless swordplay?
She couldn’t tell. Her emotions were so faint that even she couldn’t describe their color anymore.
That was why Arhan fascinated her.
He acted like a boy, but inside burned a storm of rage—a fire that refused to die.
He had lost everything, just as she had, but instead of being consumed by loss, he turned his fury into strength.
While she lingered in the past, Arhan moved forward—always upward.
He was not shackled by memory; he had become something stronger.
His will was steel.
Sometimes, Seol Yoon wished she could be like him—Not always weighed down by sorrow, but able to think of the future, to stand tall as an adult. But that was not an easy thing. Not at all.
“Greetings!”
A sudden shout snapped her from her thoughts.
A female warrior stood before her.
“I am Maia, the Sixth Valkyrie of the Lakota Mountains, and I challenge you to a duel!”
Seol Yoon looked at her dully.
“…In the Arena, barbarians, we usually don’t announce our names.”
“Is that so? No matter! What is your name, swordswoman?”
“I told you, we don’t share names here.”
“Then at least tell me the name you use in the Arena!”
As the Valkyrie declared with fierce vigor, Seol Yoon quietly raised her sword.
Its cold blade shimmered faintly.
For a brief moment, her confusion subsided. If her opponent was not a soldier of Han, then no echoes would follow. And when she swung her sword, all unnecessary thoughts disappeared.
This would be a good chance to clear her head.
“…The Bride.”
Please, she thought, don’t die too quickly. Stay with me until my mind grows quiet again.
“The Black Bride.”
***
「Time remaining until War Duel ends: 20:55:41」