“Can you please take out the great sword one more time?”
“I don’t like it. “Just today, didn’t you just stare at the sword for three hours?”
“Just 30 more minutes.”
“It’s not something you should show off very often.”
“···10 minutes.”
“I don’t like it. “I also have a schedule.”
“Okay, three minutes! That’s 3 minutes, right? “Right?”
Lark witnessed the process of 3 minutes becoming 10 minutes, 10 minutes becoming 30 minutes, and 30 minutes becoming 3 hours again. Lark shook his head and continued his walk.
“It’s not possible.”
“Oh please…!”
Lark walked away quickly, pretending not to see Natida following behind him. Since the last time he showed her the Holy Sword for the purpose of healing her, Natida has been visiting Rak frequently.
‘Even if it’s only the first time or two…’
The sight of the saintess with her mouth open, as if she had been drugged, was not a sight to behold. So much so that even Rak, who had no religious affiliation, unconsciously felt that the first Holy Sword should not be used ‘in this way’.
“Tsk…”
Leaving Natida behind for no reason to regain her appetite, Lark walked away. Because there was a lot of work to do today.
2.
“It’s early, but I’ll teach you.”
“Everything I have taught you so far, everything you have accumulated, is for this purpose.”
The fruits of what has been accumulated.
“This is where the flow of mana is held so as not to be disturbed, the basics of trading, the use of trading, the principles of spells, the modification of spells, and where they ultimately arrive.”
Deal with the stars.
Creating a deal just for yourself.
“Open your eyes and look carefully.”
“Because this is the spell that forms the basis of the battle magic you call Battle Mage.”
Lark, who was reminiscing about the past, let out a short breath.
Looking ahead, a section of the snowy field had been completely cut out. Spitting out the remaining heat from his body, Lark lifted the spell on his body.
“Wow, master, it’s not a joke, is it?”
With the remnants of mana flying like a blizzard, Lark turned around at the sound of a voice coming from behind him. There was a familiar face there.
“Oyakal?”
“Yes, master.”
Hawkeye Oyakal, one of the 13 greatest warriors in the North. He clapped his hands and approached Lark.
“I heard you had a favor to ask me.”
Oyakkal shook the liquor bottle he was carrying.
Lark grinned and sat down on the rocks scattered around. The two people had a drink, with Oyakal laying out the snacks he had brought along with the alcohol.
“It feels very strange to be drinking with you, Master. “It seems like only yesterday when you were this little kid.”
“is it?”
“Yes, I feel like time flies so quickly.”
This is an Oyakal that has already begun to develop wrinkles.
Oyakal rubbed his forehead and smiled bitterly.
“I was the one who taught you how to use weapons, and I am confident that if you join me now, I will be defeated in just one hit. “What made you so strong?”
“It’s thanks to having a good teacher.”
“Hmm. “It’s an honor.”
“I’m not talking about you Oyakal, I’m talking about Professor Rania.”
“Tsk. “That’s too much.”
“It’s a joke,” Lark said, smiling and tipping his glass.
While sipping his drink like that, Oyakal opened his mouth.
“Do you have something to discuss?”
“okay.”
“Tell me something. “I don’t know if I can help.”
Oyakal was a person with a lot of experience and a broad view of the situation. Lark often asked Oyakal for advice, and he intended to do so again this time.
“What does it take to become a superman?”
Lark said with a long sigh.
“Everyone says it. I’m close to being a superhuman. It is said that he has physical abilities comparable to that of a superhuman, and senses that surpass those of a superhuman. But no one says I’m superhuman.”
It was true.
“I feel like something is lacking. But I don’t know what it is. “I feel like I’ve been looking for just that for the past few years.”
“Is that so?”
Oyakal tipped his glass and sighed, “Hmm.”
“To be honest, young master, I haven’t reached the level of a superhuman, so I don’t think my advice will be of much help.”
But, said Oyakal.
“Still, if I were to give you some advice, wouldn’t it be your motivation?”
“···motivation?”
“Yes, all superhumans have strong motivation. In the case of the sword demon Draka, it is a desire for revenge. In the case of Kuntel, the master of swords, it was proof.”
Something that must be achieved even if it means overcoming walls.
Something that must be achieved even if it means pushing oneself beyond one’s limits. Such motivation clearly existed among superhumans throughout history.
“A goal that must be achieved, something that must be proven, and a belief that must be defended even at the cost of one’s life. “I heard that such romantic things form the basis of superhumanity.”
That is why superhumans are born in difficult times.
Because in desperate and desperate places, humans will gain strong motivation. With that in mind, Oyakal continued.
“Do you have such a motive?”
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“···It has to be there.”
Lark thought of something that could be considered motivation.
Paying back a favor to Professor Rania.
Fulfilling the long-awaited wish given to the Grace family.
And, simply pursuing strength.
“It’s not that intense, is it?”
Oyakal laughed bitterly.
At those words, Lark had no choice but to remain silent. It was true. The strongest motivation, at best, would be to avenge our ancestors’ long-held wish against Ganicalt, the sword of death…
‘that···.’
It is not a dream that Lark had as a single person.
It was not Lakman’s long-cherished wish; it was a longed wish implanted in him by others. Although he thought it should come true, Lark was still unable to immerse himself in the long-held wish he had been given. It felt like I was catching a cloud.
“It’s something that can’t be helped.”
It can’t be helped, Oyakal said.
“Because the world is too peaceful. I’m absolutely not saying that being peaceful is a bad thing, right? It’s just that the world is too peaceful for strong motivation. “Thanks to one hero.”
Even if you think of an enemy that cannot be defeated.
No matter how difficult the situation is,
When such a situation arose, humanity had a very easy answer. Champion, Rania Van Trias. If she exists, all problems will be solved.
“young master.”
Oyakal said as he poured himself a drink.
“Master, why do you want to become a superhuman?”
Lark couldn’t answer that question right away.
Numerous sentences came to mind, but none of them gave a clear answer. Something that cannot be said with certainty. Lark eventually fell silent.
“You can’t answer right away.”
Oyakal laughed bitterly.
“I think you need to make that part a little clearer. Clear motive. A clear mindset. No matter how talented you are…”
He spat calmly.
“Isn’t it true that the level of superhumanity cannot be achieved through talent alone? Since you are still young, I think it would be a good idea to think about it a little more.”
“···It certainly seems like that.”
Lark sighed.
“Whoa…”
Seeds in the heart.
A place where you can reach your long-cherished wish.
Because he was so engrossed in such things, Lark was not looking at his most important motive.
“It was helpful, Oyakal.”
“Then I’m glad.”
Oyakal chewed the beef jerky and let out a long sigh.
“I have a lot of worries these days.”
“worry?”
“Yes, my son is five years old this year, isn’t he? “He says he wants to follow me and become a warrior… but I’m worried because he looks so fragile.”
Your son’s story came out.
Lark, sensing that the story would be long, shrugged his shoulders while chewing his beef jerky. As expected from Lark, Oya Kal boasted about his son for a while, and Lark listened to the story with appropriate condescension.
3.
A few days passed after my conversation with Oyakal.
During those few days, Lark sat on the snowy field he was protecting and pondered the conversation he had with Oyakal. Oyakal said. What is lacking is motivation and persistence.
Motivation, motivation.
What you lack.
A firm purpose and intense desire. Thinking of something that had yet to be grasped, Lark let out a long breath. It probably has a similar meaning to the ‘opportunity’ the professor mentioned.
“If you wish so strongly.”
“If the opportunity arises.”
“That thing in your heart will bloom. “I will take you a little further away.”
Something that sits in the heart.
Feeling the faint sound it made, Lark let out a long breath. It was when Lark was lost in thought, looking at the white breath.
Gooung.
The air trembled.
Lark unconsciously looked at his right hand. This space is connected to the right hand. The holy sword of the first hero stored in this space was ringing softly.
As if reacting to something.
And that was then.
Sting.
A red signal was fired into the sky.
Lark raised his head and looked at the sky. The signal flare was fired at the exact opposite part of the snowfield protected by Lark, and what the red flare meant was a request for assistance.
A powerful enemy has appeared.
I hope for your support.
Lark felt ominous and started running towards the place where the flare was fired. Lark’s intuition was sounding his alarm. There’s something over there.
* * *
What is missing?
What will satisfy this thirst?
What makes me human?
‘Desire, purpose, obsession.’
Beautiful yet squishy.
The beast walked, looking for it. As we came out of the forest, what unfolded was a pure white snowy field. The moment I set foot on the snowy field, the beast felt it. This place.
“My name is Ganicalt van Galatric.”
Brilliant human being.
“I will ask you.”
My opponent was so powerful.
“Are you a beast, or do you prefer to be a human?”
The beast answered that question.
I answered with confidence, ‘I am human.’ At that time, he had pride in himself and was persistent. But the reborn beast lost it all.
“is it.”
I’m no longer like that then.
“Then, raise your sword.”
“Prove your pride.”
As a prosecutor, I cannot face him.
The beast groaned at that fact.
To retrieve what was lost, the beast walked tirelessly through the snowy field. He moved his feet, tracing his memories. How long did it take to walk like that?
“······.”
A person was blocking his path.
A human being of dwarf size compared to an animal.
A mere human being who does not have the talent to reach beasts like those on the front lines. The beast looked down at the human. The human’s eyes trembled.
They’ll get scared and run away.
The beast raised its arms with that thought in mind.
Chakang!
The actions taken by humans were beyond the beast’s expectations. He fired something into the sky and pulled his weapon from his belt. The beast’s eyes narrowed at the sound of the blade scraping through the sheath.
While terrified.
Even though I was trembling with fear.
The human raised his sword and pointed it at the beast.
From its appearance, the beast was reminded of the past. He recalled the people he loved.
Wow.
The beast’s jaw was completely torn open. The beast laughed. The eye light blinked black and white. The beast cried out its neck in joy.
“I will ask.”
The beast laughed.
“What is this name?”
A human answered that question.
“Oyakal.”
The person who revealed his name defined himself.
“A warrior.”
* * *
Lark stopped walking.
The flowing blood reached Lark’s toes. Lark raised his head and looked in front of him. The first thing he saw was a broken knife. A treasure that a warrior considers like half his body. A warrior’s weapon made with the soul of a blacksmith.
Oyakal’s sword, broken in half, was lying on the floor. If you look further forward, the only thing you can see is Oyakal’s sword.
Many warriors’ weapons were broken and lying around on the floor. Lark saw weapons that had lost their owners and were left alone in the snowy field. He looked and looked. And finally, Lark reached the end of the row of weapons.
Yes.
There was a beast there.
The animal was standing with both feet on the ground, its mouth wide open, chewing something and swallowing it. Every time the animal’s body shook, blood and flesh splattered in all directions.
and.
Lark saw the human corpse lying at the feet of the beast. Naturally, these were faces that Lark knew. The warriors who had taught Rak, the warriors who had been his brothers, were lying limp, missing body parts.
Yes.
The animal took a bite and threw it on the floor. Lark saw the body lying on the floor with a clanking sound. The dead human’s eyes were black. The firearms he had in his lifetime were nowhere to be found in the cloudy eyes that could not be closed even after death.
“······.”
Until a few days ago.
A teacher who shared a drink with him and gave him advice, and was like a brother to him. It was Oyakal’s body. The moment he looked at the corpse, Lark felt something.
Pop, do it.
Something broke in my mind.
fantasy,
