Ch.191Who Am I? (7)

Time flows.

On rainy days, Najin would visit the tavern to play music with Violet, and on days without rain, he would seek out other musicians and observe their performances.

Then he would steal their techniques. In this case, Najin had no intention of using the expression “learning.” In his mind, this was closer to theft than learning.

‘It’s different from learning swordsmanship.’

When copying others’ sword techniques, Najin would understand the philosophy and life contained within them, then reinterpret and express them through his own sword. That could be called “learning.” But not with music.

He couldn’t understand the philosophy behind the performers’ music. He was merely stealing their forms at will.

Of course, just by copying those forms, Najin’s performance skills improved dramatically each day. Not enough to reach the level of a master, but close enough to just below that level.

“That talent of yours, I thought it would work for anything involving physical movement…”

Merlin, who had been watching, looked at Najin with disbelief.

“But seeing it in person is truly absurd. How is this possible?”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

If he had to explain, it was imitation made possible by a body honed to its limits. Unlike the musicians’ bodies, Najin’s physical abilities, refined through intense training, allowed him to control his strength down to the minutest detail.

In any case, Najin continued to move forward.

In this dream where everything remained static, repeating the same time over and over, only Najin steadily progressed.

“Ah…”

And then.

“Really, you.”

The steps Najin took left footprints. Someone was following those footprints, looking at them.

“How did you do it? My goodness, is this even possible? One week! To improve this much in just one week…”

“I’m naturally talented.”

“Talented doesn’t begin to describe it! Goodness, other musicians should have seen this! Could you perhaps play this piece too? I’ve been wanting to try it!”

“I don’t mind, but… Merlin?”

“W-wait. I’m reading the sheet music.”

Violet had joined the flow that Najin created. Having played the piano alone in this tavern for an unimaginably long time, she genuinely welcomed the guest who visited her twice a week.

“Welcome, Najin!”

She no longer called him “the stranger.” She wasn’t playing the piano before he arrived either. She would place a chair outside the tavern and wait, then enter the tavern together with Najin when he arrived.

“How about this one today?”

She brought new pieces each time.

“Ah, really…”

She smiled brightly while playing the keys. It wasn’t a forced smile. She laughed as if she couldn’t contain her joy.

“You know, I love playing the piano. It makes my mind peaceful. Whatever happened yesterday, whatever will happen tomorrow, when I’m playing, I can forget it all.”

She caressed the keyboard.

Her snow-white finger gently touched a key.

“While sitting here, I can be a performer. What I’ve always wanted…”

While playing, she never hid her emotions. She smiled, frowned when she missed a beat, and exhaled deeply when finished, as if relieved. Here, she could just be Violet.

An old tavern.

A place filled with dust-covered instruments.

It was too shabby and plain for a transcendent being to make it their sanctuary. But for the human called Violet, this much space was enough. She didn’t need fancy instruments, a grand orchestra, or numerous listeners attentive to her performance.

An old instrument, an old tavern, and a single listener.

That was all the human called Violet needed to live. But Najin had no intention of letting her merely “live.”

So he added weight.

He did his best to tip the scale that was leaning toward Viola Ordina back toward Violet’s side, so that she could feel “joy,” at least in this moment.

“Najin.”

And Violet smiled.

“Thank you.”

Time flows. Slowly but surely.

2.

Time flowed and the performance continued.

And the performance approaches its end.

Toward the end of the sheet music. But what lies at the end of the sheet music is not an end but repetition. For there was no end in the dream created by Viola Ordina.

Da capo.

Return to the beginning and play again.

Najin moved toward the repeat sign that would make this performance repeat hundreds of times. Looking back, there was Violet following him.

She was walking in the footprints Najin had left.

Najin had created change in her daily life that had remained unchanged for hundreds of years. Led by that change, Violet was moving forward with clear direction rather than repetition.

‘This is it.’

Najin stopped for a moment.

One step away from the fall of the kingdom of Cassel. Looking ahead, there was a repeat sign. Najin stopped in front of that symbol.

Because it wasn’t his choice to make anymore.

Swoooooosh.

Rain was pouring down. Perhaps this was the final rain. When this rain stops and the next morning dawns, Violet will lose herself.

Plop, plop, plop…

At the corner of the building where raindrops were falling, Violet sat on a chair placed outside the tavern. She was wearing gloves. She who had said she disliked gloves because they prevented her from feeling the keys was wearing gloves today.

She had her hands clasped together, resting gently on her thighs. As if she didn’t want others to see those fingers. She completely hid her fingers by clasping them together, already concealed once by gloves.

Thud.

Najin stopped in front of her.

Normally, Violet would have stood up and guided Najin inside the building. But not today. Instead, she raised her head to look up at him.

“…”

As if unsure how or where to begin, she mumbled with her lips.

Najin turned his head briefly to meet Merlin’s gaze. No special conversation was needed. One glance and one nod were enough. Merlin shrugged as if understanding what Najin was trying to say.

Do as you wish.

That was the meaning. Najin smiled slightly and turned his attention back to Violet.

“Violet. Do you perhaps like the rain?”

“…Pardon?”

A somewhat unexpected question.

While Violet blinked her eyes, Najin extended his hand to her.

“Shall we walk for a bit? If you don’t mind getting rained on.”

“…Ah.”

A faint smile formed on Violet’s lips as she recognized Najin’s consideration. She slowly nodded and took Najin’s outstretched hand.

“Let’s do that. I actually like being in the rain.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, in the past, I used to stand blankly in the streets all day when it rained. I loved the sound of rain. What about you, Najin?”

“Well, I don’t dislike it.”

Heavy rain poured down.

The two walked through the streets, unconcerned that their hair and clothes were getting soaked.

“It’s really a shame.”

The gloves, soaked through and now transparent from the rain, lost their purpose of “hiding hands.” Violet took off the gloves she was wearing. What was revealed were fingers that had turned black with rot.

“I wanted to play more.”

“…”

“I can’t play the keyboard with hands like these. What a pity. Still, thanks to you, I feel like I’ve played to my heart’s content for a month. I even got to play all the pieces I wanted to try…”

She stepped forward lightly. Standing one step ahead of Najin, she looked back.

“You knew, didn’t you? Who I am.”

Najin nodded.

“And yet you deliberately didn’t reveal it or ask about it, because you were being considerate of me?”

Najin tilted his head at that question.

“Considerate? Aren’t you Violet?”

“…Aha.”

Really, how far.

Violet muttered. Cutting off that muttering, Najin spoke.

“So.”

Najin looked straight at Violet.

“Whatever you say from now on, I’ll consider it as coming from Violet standing in front of me. Not from the gloomy person with a dying expression.”

“Did my expression look that gloomy?”

“Yes, enough to drain the energy from anyone looking at you.”

Violet chuckled.

“Yes, then would you listen to my story? I’d like to complain a bit.”

“Let’s do that. We have plenty of time.”

Violet walked through the pouring rain. She led the way and Najin followed behind her.

“I hate swords.”

She began her story as if talking to herself.

“My father and mother were stabbed to death by swords right in front of me, so isn’t it natural that I hate them? But what I hated even more was that I had talent with the sword.”

She talked about her past that she had never told anyone.

“I’m scared when I hold a sword. My body moves on its own. On its own, really on its own. Where to cut, how to carve out which part, such things just naturally come to mind. Then my body reflexively moves in the optimal direction. As if it’s not my body.”

A talent some would have desperately wanted.

“Seeing this, the head of the Ordina family adopted me. He said I had talent? Talent to become a Sword Master. He forced me to hold a sword. And put me on the front lines. To kill the enemies invading this country. Saying my talent should be used for this country.”

But.

“He said if I didn’t do it, this country would perish. That it would be conquered? So, I had to do it, he said.”

A talent Violet never wanted.

“So I killed enemies. Blood splattered, screams echoed. The splattered blood stained my face, corpses rolled before my eyes, and I watched it all expressionlessly. I killed them? Why? It doesn’t feel like I killed them. My body moves on its own, so why is that me? Why is it said that I did it?”

The pouring rain beat against Violet’s body.

“After killing and killing like that, they said I became a Sword Seeker. And after continuing like that for a while, they said I became a Sword Master? I’m a transcendent being, they say. A guardian of this country, a protective deity, a hero, they say.”

She let out a hollow laugh.

“Then Radon appeared. Truly, just making eye contact was terrifying. A fearsome dragon appeared that I had no idea how to cut… and they said I had to step up again? I didn’t want to, but if I didn’t do it, they said this country would perish again. Again, again!”

She shouted. But the street was deserted. Only the sound of rain quietly buried her voice.

“I fight every day.”

She ruffled her hair.

“I can’t see an end. After fighting, my body is in tatters. It’s hard even to walk. I don’t know how long I have to keep doing this, really…”

There was a grinding sound of teeth. Her once snow-white hair had turned black. Viola Ordina scratched her forearm with her fingernails.

“I’m not a hero. I’m just scared.”

She let her arm drop limply.

“If I don’t act, if I don’t move, nearly a million people will die… and I can’t be free from that responsibility either. Why? Because people think I’m a hero. Why? Because I’m a guardian.”

Because it’s so natural for me to do that.

Because for them, that’s their right.

“I don’t have the courage to shout back and ask why it’s my responsibility, nor the courage to run away. I’ve just lived like this, as if being chased, because I’m afraid. When there’s no will of my own in it, how can I be a hero?”

She turned to look at Najin.

“I can’t be a hero. I’m just a mentally ill person suffering from compulsion. A mentally ill person without the courage to take responsibility…”

Her lips were trembling.

“This is who I really am. Isn’t it ridiculous?”

3.

It was something he had heard before.

However, it was different from then. Najin felt the scale tilting toward Violet. It seems the efforts of the past month had not been in vain.

The human before his eyes, Violet, was in anguish.

Originally, the being called “Viola Ordina” was completely separate from Violet, but now the boundary had become blurred. Najin didn’t miss this point.

“Why is that ridiculous?”

“…Pardon?”

Najin answered the question with another question.

“Did you want to become a hero?”

“…No. Not at all.”

“Then doesn’t that mean you’ve been doing something you didn’t want to do, something you didn’t want to become, for 67 years?”

“…”

“Whether out of fear or compulsion, you’ve protected this country for a full 67 years. Long enough for them to consider it normal. I don’t understand why that’s ridiculous at all.”

Najin bluntly stated.

“Isn’t that enough? You’ve done it for 67 years. It’s strange for them to expect more.”

“Still, if I don’t do it…”

“They’ll die. And that means you have to do it?”

“Because there’s no one else…”

Najin smiled at Violet’s answer.

“Do you know what the world calls someone who does good without obligation, without reason to do so?”

“…”

“A hero. Also a knight.”

Najin finally delivered the words he had wanted to say to Violet before the world reset.

“You are already a hero. Even if you deny it, that fact doesn’t change.”

“Me, a hero?”

“Yes, you.”

Violet opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. She let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Didn’t you say I was Violet?”

“Yes, you are Violet.”

“Isn’t the hero Viola Ordina?”

“Isn’t that ultimately you too? If Viola Ordina were truly separate from you, you wouldn’t need to worry about this, would you?”

“That’s sophistry. This isn’t such a simple matter…”

“It’s also sound reasoning. The two are separated by just a thin line. It’s all in how you accept it. And if you’re going to accept it, why not accept it in a positive way?”

Violet laughed as if finding her own concerns ridiculous. She brushed back her hair.

“If you dismiss so easily what someone has worried about for nearly a hundred years, it makes me look foolish.”

“What’s foolish about it? I know someone who has been worrying and regretting for a thousand years, so a hundred years is nothing.”

So, Najin looked at Violet.

“What does the hero who has protected this country for so long want to become? In the final moment, that is.”

“…According to you, I’ve lived as a hero for over 100 years, right?”

“That would be correct.”

“I’ve done it enough to be sick of it. I want to retire now.”

“Then?”

“For the end, I want to remain a performer. Is that strange? To run away at the end after enduring so well all this time.”

“Not at all.”

Najin shook his head.

Then he spoke.

“When a hero retires, someone needs to take their place. But quite unfortunately, it seems there’s no one in this country to replace you…”

“…”

“Fortunately, there is someone here.”

Najin raised the corner of his mouth into a grin.

Then he pointed at himself.

“An idiot who wants to be a hero.”

“Are you serious? That’s not something to say so lightly.”

“Saying it is always easy. The question is whether you can prove it… but in this case, that shouldn’t be much of a problem.”

Najin pointed to the sky with his finger.

“I’m quite good at slaying dragons.”

The Star of Dragonslayer.

Najin’s second star twinkled.