Ch.20Honor, Pride, and Stars (1)

The moment Najin summoned Excalibur.

A star rose once again in the underground city.

Though not as bright as when he pulled the sword from the stone, the light created by Excalibur could not be obscured by the fog and darkness that blanketed the underground city.

Starlight shot high into the sky.

The residents of the underground city.

The secret agents pursuing the boy.

The knight of the Order who believed in his righteousness.

The mercenary who chose loyalty over money and power.

And.

“Ah……”

The knight who had chased the star also saw the starlight grasped by the boy. Ivan exhaled in admiration as he adjusted his grip on his sword. He was grateful for this glorious opportunity to cross blades with a legendary sword.

Ivan’s sword aura blazed blue. In response, the boy’s sword was also enveloped in platinum sword aura.

The sword of the star wrapped in starlight. Ivan smiled at the light of the star that had never been forgotten since falling into this underground city. The dream he had abandoned was right there.

“Come.”

Ivan spoke, and the boy charged.

The boy who held the star and the knight who had chased the star collided.

2.

Najin gave his absolute best.

A technique that lowered his stance, kicked off the ground, and swung his accelerated sword with no regard for defense. No one had specifically taught him this, and it was barely even a technique, but…

This was clearly Najin’s best strike.

Tap, Najin kicked the ground.

With each step, Najin’s body accelerated. By his third step, Ivan lost track of Najin’s movements for a moment, and by the sixth step, Najin’s movements surpassed Ivan’s.

Ivan could not see Najin’s movements. Only the trajectory of the star’s sword in Najin’s hand entered his vision. And for Ivan, that was enough.

‘Come on.’

Ivan did not retreat.

‘I’ll meet you head-on.’

It approaches. The sword of the star.

It approaches. The starlight.

Boom!

Najin took his final step and dove into Ivan. Najin’s maximum speed. Excalibur, receiving the velocity at its peak, accelerated. Facing the sword that rushed forward scattering starlight, Ivan moved.

Knight of Atanga, Ivan.

The essence of the skills he had honed throughout his life.

It was the swordsmanship that symbolized Atanga.

Meeting the opponent’s technique head-on and denying the opponent directly was the Atanga way. Without ever retreating, Ivan received Najin’s sword.

Claaaaaang!

Sword met sword, aura met aura.

The moment he received the sword, Ivan thought that it was a simple yet straightforward, and because of its straightforwardness, a heavy sword. The weight behind Najin’s sword exceeded Ivan’s imagination.

His firmly planted feet wavered.

His knees threatened to bend.

But a knight of Atanga never bends, never retreats in the face of pressure, even if it means breaking. Ivan roared with effort as he strengthened his knees and planted his feet more firmly against the force pushing him back.

Ka, kakakak!

Slowly but surely, Ivan’s sword advanced. Najin still lacked understanding of the sword as a weapon. He hadn’t learned proper swordsmanship. Ivan’s sword, honed through years of wielding and training, exploited this weakness.

Ivan’s stance, which seemed to be receiving Najin’s sword, had somehow transformed into one that was pressing down on Najin’s sword.

Ivan’s knees, which had been about to bend, straightened. His feet, which had been about to step back, instead took a step forward. As Ivan advanced, Najin was pushed back.

“…Ugh!”

The tide had turned.

It was the moment when Najin’s sword strike, gradually being pushed back, was about to be completely broken. Najin widened his eyes. He crudely poured the flow within his body into Excalibur.

He knew he was losing in technique.

If that was the case, he would compete with raw power instead.

As if responding to its master’s will to win at all costs, Excalibur flashed intensely. The platinum sword aura, its density suddenly increased, shattered Ivan’s technique head-on.

“…!”

Ivan’s eyes widened.

Najin’s sword completely pushed back Ivan’s. Ivan’s sword-holding hand was raised above his head. This created a fatal opening. Ivan had no strength left to receive a second strike.

He hastily pulled his sword back, but the situation was beyond salvaging. It was at that moment that Ivan sensed his defeat.

Rustle.

Najin’s sword, which was about to strike Ivan, disappeared into starlight. Only fragments of the sword aura, having lost their path when the sword vanished, scratched Ivan’s body, but there was no fatal wound as he had anticipated.

“Keurgh!”

Rather, it was Najin who suffered a critical wound.

Najin collapsed in the same posture he had swung his sword. Because he had used power not yet permitted to him. The boy had pulled out Excalibur, but his body and soul were not yet mature enough to properly wield it.

With no strength left to maintain Excalibur, he collapsed before he could deliver a second strike.

“……”

Ivan remained silent.

Drip, drops of blood fell from the wound grazed by the sword aura. Something fell with a thud among the falling drops of blood. It was the eyepatch covering Ivan’s right eye.

The fallen eyepatch. The fallen blood.

And the boy collapsed before him.

Looking at all of this with one eye, Ivan realized.

That he had won, and also lost.

One-eyed Ivan, the ruler of the underground city, had won against the boy. He was the one still standing, and he could kill the boy with a swing of his sword.

But Ivan, the knight of Atanga, had lost to the boy. The Atanga way was to break the opponent without ever bending or retreating in a direct confrontation. But Ivan had retreated and bent under the boy’s pressure at the last moment.

Victory as the one-eyed ruler.

Defeat as a knight of Atanga.

Which one should he accept?

Ivan groaned at the choice before him. At the very end, once again, the world asks Ivan.

What will you choose?

And what will you remain as?

3.

Like everyone else, a person’s own life is most precious. Because once you die, that’s the end. Because death is frightening. This is a fundamental fear that all humans possess.

Therefore.

In the face of death, humans can become as cowardly, cruel, and contradictory as needed. No one would dare mock such displays of desire for life. Because it’s a duality everyone possesses.

Ivan is no different.

Ivan wants to live.

He didn’t want to die in a place like this.

He wanted to see the stars again, to see the sun again, to be a knight again. Although the probability of that happening was infinitely low…

If he survives, there’s still a possibility.

But death is the end.

Ivan gritted his teeth. He needed to kill the boy collapsed before him to survive. So, it would be right to swing his sword and end it. He understood this fact intellectually.

But despite understanding…

The sword wouldn’t move. The raised sword couldn’t advance even a little. Najin, who had collapsed, raised his head and looked at him. When their eyes met, Ivan’s expression contorted.

A boy different from himself.

A boy shining while holding a star.

Looking at the boy who possessed a light that he dared not trample, Ivan groaned. What will you remain as? What will you become? Ivan had been postponing the answer to the question thrown at him, but now he had to decide.

It would have been better if Najin’s sword had cut him down. If only he could have met death that way. Ivan groaned.

“I swear on the pride of Ivan, Knight of Atanga.”

What echoed in his ears was the oath he had sworn on his pride. The moment he swings this sword down, he loses that pride.

One who has lost honor and pride.

Could such a person be called a knight?

Of course, there are many knights in the world who know neither honor nor pride. Many, but at least Ivan couldn’t consider such a person a knight. The moment he loses his pride here, he ceases to be a knight.

Ivan knew this fact.

Even if he survives here.

Could he still chase the stars with lost pride and false honor? Could he proudly call himself a knight of Atanga?

‘No.’

No, he couldn’t.

What he desired was to possess a star as a knight.

Not as a tarnished, honorless piece of trash.

‘As a knight with pride and honor.’

His dream was to possess a star as such a knight.

“……”

Ivan pondered.

He agonized.

He hesitated until the very last moment.

…Everyone holds their own life dear.

‘But knights.’

The knights I wanted to become.

‘Are foolish beings who readily throw away their lives for honor and pride.’

Foolish, but living lives that shine brighter than anything else because of it. Recalling the dream he had cherished as a child admiring knights, Ivan made his choice.

“Damn it.”

Ivan ruffled his hair.

“Really, damn it all.”

Cursing, he sheathed his sword.

With the sword at his waist, Ivan extended his hand toward the fallen Najin. Najin blinked blankly before grabbing Ivan’s outstretched hand and standing up.

“Can you move?”

The killing intent had disappeared.

Najin slowly nodded at Ivan’s question. Ivan opened and closed his mouth repeatedly. As if there was something he wanted to say, but it wasn’t easy to express.

“Um, Najin.”

Ivan slowly opened his mouth.

“When you go down the waterfall, be careful of the moisture. The footholds will keep slipping, so be mindful of that. You could easily fall if you’re not careful. And… no. No, that’s not it.”

After exhaling a long sigh, he opened his mouth again.

“Najin.”

“…I’m listening.”

“Do you remember what I always used to say?”

“About not crossing the line?”

“Yes, that.”

Don’t cross the line. Know your place.

Don’t reach for what you can’t touch.

“About that.”

Ivan touched his lost right eye.

It had been over ten years since he fell into this city.

During that time, Ivan had abandoned his dreams and whittled away at himself as a knight. He had made it a habit to say not to cross the line and to live as given, but… it was also something Ivan was saying to himself.

Words thrown at himself, who could no longer climb higher.

“I’m correcting it.”

Ivan decided to change those words today.

“Listen well. You know I hate repeating myself.”

Ivan smiled.

“Cross the line, Najin.”

He said with a smile.

“Reach for places you can’t touch. Punch those who mutter about knowing your place right in the face. Only you know how far you can go.”

Ivan denied the words he had spoken.

“Look up high and run. Climb higher, higher than anyone else. Because you have the talent for it. Believe in the talent you possess.”

With only one eye.

He had neither eyes that could foresee the future, nor a sharp sense that could anticipate the future, nor anything else.

“When you reach the highest place.”

Ivan was certain.

The boy before him would reach the highest place. He would hang his own star in the highest place in the night sky. Ivan was convinced that future would certainly come.

Because he was convinced, Ivan said:

“Shout from there.”

What?

“That I existed.”

That I was at the starting point of your story.

“That Ivan, Knight of Atanga, existed.”

If he could adorn the prologue of a hero’s story, wouldn’t that be an honor too great for a knight chasing stars? To desire glory while holding onto pride. What more splendid end could there be for a knight?

“Go now.”

Ivan pushed Najin’s back toward the inner tunnel.

He no longer looked at the boy who gazed at him with wavering eyes and hesitation. With his back turned to the boy, he stood guard at the entrance of the tunnel.

To buy the boy as much time as he had taken from him.

“…Thank you, Ivan.”

With those words, the sound of the boy’s footsteps faded away. Before that sound could fully disappear, the sound of new footsteps began to be heard from the front.

They’re coming. The pursuers.

Pursuers led by the light, coming to bury the light. They were the secret agents of the Order, and also knights of the Order, and also his seniors from long ago.

Listening to the fading footsteps.

Letting the approaching footsteps pass by.

Ivan drew his sword once more. This time, not toward the departing boy, but toward the pursuers chasing the boy.

‘Not as one-eyed Ivan.’

Ivan trampled on the eyepatch that had fallen to the ground.

‘But as Ivan, Knight of Atanga.’

The knight chasing the stars smiled.

It was the lightest smile he had ever worn.