Prologue – Part 02
Then she noticed him.
A startled, hoarse gasp escaped Cecily’s throat. She had no idea when he arrived, but he had suddenly appeared beside her and the vagrant. Cecily caught a glimpse of him in her peripheral vision, and witnessed his movements.
A fluid draw of the sword. His right hand touched the sword at his waist, gripping the hilt. His upper body dipped slightly, and the blade glided smoothly through the air in a strike as swift as lightning. Sparks flew from the friction against the sheath.
His sword slipped into the gap before the vagrant’s axe could split Cecily’s forehead. The blade passed right in front of her nose, intercepting the axe and slicing through its edge. The axe was undoubtedly made of iron, yet the sword cut through it as if it were wood, stopping midway.
Cecily’s hair, lifted by the wind produced by the swing, gently settled back onto her forehead. The hair on the back of her neck bristled, and she swallowed hard.
The axe had stopped just short of her forehead. He had sliced through from the side, stopping the axe mid-air.
Both Cecily and the vagrant froze, the latter with the axe still in a half-swing. The vagrant blinked repeatedly, snapping back to his senses. Cecily could hardly believe what just happened.
“What…?”
The sword cut through steel?
The speed of the draw and strike were almost impossible to follow with her eyes.
He pulled the sword back, and the flow of time resumed. The vagrant stepped back, putting distance between them. His face, flushed red from rage and intoxication earlier, now turned pale. He had regained his senses, and a hint of reason returned to his eyes.
The sound of the sword being sheathed drew everyone’s attention—the vagrant, Cecily, and the crowd—to him. To the young man.
He looked to be in his late teens, dressed in thin, soot-stained work clothes, with short hair. Amid the surrounding buzz, he wore a flippant smile.
Cecily’s eyes were drawn to his waist, and she frowned.
What is that sword?
The young man had a black scabbard hanging from his waist. It was slender and long, with a gently curved shape that Cecily had rarely seen before.
“You’ve performed a Demon Pact, haven’t you? A survivor of the war,” the young man said in a deep, clear voice.
The vagrant quickly tucked his left hand under his right armpit. The hand missing its fingers.
That’s it, Cecily realized. Partial disabilities often pointed to past involvement with a Demon Pact. Such pacts were forbidden by current continental law.
“Probably got made fun of and lost his temper, I’d guess.”
The awkward silence from the bystanders confirmed the young man’s suspicion.
“Why,” the vagrant muttered. “Why won’t salvation come?” He hung his head low and slumped his shoulders.
The young man turned to Cecily. His gaze was dark and inscrutable. His left eye was fully open, while his right eye was narrowed slightly. Cecily gasped but quickly composed herself, steadying her breath.
“Thanks for the he—”
“Lisa.”
“Yes.”
A voice came from behind Cecily as a girl ran up to the young man. Realizing that he was looking at the girl rather than her, Cecily’s cheeks flushed.
The girl looked to be around twelve or thirteen. She had blonde hair tied in a bundle at the back, and barely reached the young man’s shoulder in terms of height. She looked up at him with large blue eyes. Wearing soiled work clothes similar to the young man’s, her small frame was burdened with an oversized backpack and several small pouches hanging from her belt, all seemingly too heavy for her size.
“Are you injured?” she asked.
“No. You were watching, weren’t you?”
“I was. I know how skilled you are, Luke.”
The girl turned to Cecily hesitantly. She had big and round eyes.
“Wh-What is it?” Cecily asked.
“What will happen to him?” The girl pointed to the vagrant, still huddled on the ground, muttering to himself.
“I’m detaining him, of course.”
“Could you let him go?”
“What?”
“It’s true he caused trouble, but he was also bullied before that.”
“I understand what you’re trying to say, but there’s a chance he might do this again. I can’t just let him go.”
“Your work ethic is commendable,” the young man interjected, “but he’s already gone.”
“Huh?”
The vagrant had vanished without Cecily noticing. As she looked around frantically, she spotted him pushing through the crowd, fleeing. Once the onlookers sensed the end of the commotion, the shopping street returned to its usual bustle, and the vagrant quickly blended into the throng of people.
“Hold it right—”
As she tried to chase him, her legs gave out, and she fell on her backside. She blushed deeply, mortified by both the weird-sounding yelp that escaped her lips and the fact that her legs had betrayed her.
The vagrant had completely vanished into the crowd.
Hearing laughter, Cecily lifted her gaze and saw the young man smirking.
“Some knight you are,” he said.
“Sh-Shut up!” she snapped back.
She couldn’t stand. The young man only laughed, offering no help. She thought he was a good person for helping her earlier, but it seemed she was mistaken. The girl chastising the young man was well-meaning, but it only made things worse.
Other knights arrived, having learned of the commotion. They were too late. Cecily irritably informed them about the vagrant and asked them to go after him in her place.
“Um, are you all right?” the girl asked, her voice full of concern.
“Y-Yeah. No need to help me up. Thanks,” Cecily replied, embarrassed. She couldn’t stand just yet, barely managing to stay on her knees, so she waited until she felt steady enough.
With nothing much to do, she glanced over at the young man and the girl.
“I’m counting on you for the delivery. No detours,” the young man said.
“Got it. Leave it to me!” the girl responded with a bright smile.
Cecily watched as the two parted ways, quickly blending into the crowd. She was left alone in the bustling street.
“Oh.”
She’d completely forgotten—her sword was still in her hand. She glanced down and saw that the blade had snapped cleanly near the middle, ironically enough.
It broke. She had been warned that the sword was at the end of its lifespan, but she didn’t expect it to fail just minutes later. It was an important sword, and now it was ruined. Cecily’s heart sank.
She needed a replacement, fast. Though she was off duty today, she had an expedition tomorrow. What should she do? As she sheathed her broken blade and considered her options, something caught her eye.
“What’s this?”
The vagrant’s hand axe lay discarded on the ground. Almost instinctively, Cecily picked it up and inspected it. The blade was split right down the center with an unnaturally smooth cut. It was hard to believe any sword could do that.
That young man’s sword had sliced through steel. A chill ran through Cecily.
I want one.
She wanted that sword. Driven by a sudden impulse, Cecily stood up. Her legs were still shaky, but she managed to walk. Scanning the crowd, she headed in the direction she thought the young man had gone. The Third District, known as the shopping district, was one of the top three busiest parts of the city. Unsurprisingly, he was nowhere to be found.
“Damn it,” she muttered, refusing to give up. She pushed through the crowd, earning annoyed glares, but she kept moving. “Hmm?”
Instead of the young man, she spotted the girl. Standing off to the side, she was staring blankly at passersby, so lost in thought that a bit of drool trailed from the corner of her mouth. Her gaze was fixed on another girl being led by her mother. The other girl wore a snug fur coat and a white headscarf. Watching her, the soot-stained girl glanced down at her own work clothes and sighed wistfully.
“Such a cute outfit. I wish I had one.”
“Excuse me. Do you have a moment?”
“Eek!” The girl jumped, startled. “You’ve got it all wrong! I wasn’t taking a detour. Well, I was, but—oh.”
She straightened up, turned and blurted out a quick apology, only to realize it was Cecily.
“The woman from earlier.”
“Sorry to bother you. I’m Cecily Campbell, with the Third District’s Knight Guard.”
“Oh, how polite of you. I’m Lisa.” She bowed slightly. “So, what can I help you with?”
“I wanted to ask you about the young man you were with earlier. Specifically, about his sword.”
“Huh? Luke’s sword?”
So his name is Luke, Cecily thought.
“Where did he get that sword? A weapon like that must’ve come from a renowned workshop, right?”
Lisa blinked, confused, then smiled when she pieced it together.
“Luke forged that sword himself.”
“What did you just say?” Cecily blinked in surprise.
“Luke and I run a smithy. Well, more like, I help out as his assistant.”
“A smithy? Where is it?”
“We have a workshop on the outskirts of the Seventh District, near Housman Forest. We came here to deliver some kitchen knives that were ordered from us, but Luke went back ahead of me.”
“In the Seventh District? I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s an old-fashioned forge. It’s not well-known, so it makes sense you wouldn’t have heard of it. And, well, the owner isn’t exactly friendly. Uh, please don’t tell Luke I said that.”
Lisa hastily pressed a finger to her lips, and Cecily couldn’t help but smile. She liked this girl.
So she asked, almost on a whim, “What’s the name of your smithy?”
Lisa proudly puffed out her flat chest and answered cheerfully, “It’s called Atelier Liza!”
Forty-four years had passed since the Valbanill War, and the continent had entered an era of peace.
Demon Pacts were deemed forbidden, and Inhumans steered clear of human settlements. Lessons learned from the war led the Militant Nation, the Empire, and the Crowd Powers to draw boundaries and put an end to their conflict. Miracles were rationalized through Aetheria and Prayer Pacts, becoming part of everyday life.
Tucked away in a corner of the continent stood the Independent Trade City of Housman.
Housman sprawled around a coastal volcanic zone, serving as a trading hub free from any nation’s control. It was founded from scratch by the visionary Housman, who had called for an end to the senseless wars that exploited the innocent and robbed them of their homes. Thanks to its unique geographical features, the city thrived, becoming a crucial center for trade and commerce.
To honor the person who built it, the city was named Housman.
And it is in a small smithy within this city where our story begins.
Comment (0)