Chapter 11
At thirteen, Bihan fiar was a genius who shook the continent. The fact that a boy who had only held a sword for a few years had already become a Sword Expert shocked the world. Though, the boy himself felt little sense of accomplishment.
Wooong.
Bihan grasped his sword and infused it with sword aura. His ability to handle this primal power—both delicately and yet with wild freedom—was something only a hardworking genius could obtain. With it, he could slice through a boulder the size of a house as easily as cutting pudding. Yet, Bihan remained unsatisfied.
“I want strength. Stronger and more powerful strength—so overwhelming that no one would ever dare challenge me.”
He had already become the youngest Sword Expert in history, but that was not enough. What he truly desired was the ultimate realm of the sword: Sword Master. Born a ruler and destined to reign, the young man instinctively pursued absolute power.
“What am I missing?”
The amount of mana he possessed already far surpassed the level of a Sword Expert. His skill at converting mana into sword aura and wielding it had long since outstripped that of his teachers. In fact, his masters had already thrown up their hands, declaring that they had nothing left to teach him.
“And yet…”
Though he had all the conditions, he could not step onto that final stair. It was as though an invisible wall blocked his path upward.
Neither his troubled teachers, nor even the parents who had brought him into this world, could give him a clear answer. With awkward smiles, they told him time would solve it. But such words did nothing to satisfy Bihan.
“The one who understands me best… is my sword.”
The only true joy in his life was when he held a blade. At times, he even felt more comfortable with a sword in his hand than without—as if it were a part of his very body. Yet, when he suddenly lost that sense of communion with his sword, Bihan grew increasingly anxious.
And then, one day—
“Bihan, I’ve brought you some interesting news.”
The crown prince, who frequented the duke’s residence as though it were his own, suddenly appeared without warning. Even though outsiders were forbidden from entering the training grounds, he strode in casually.
But since he was the future emperor who would one day rule the empire, if he claimed he was inspecting his vassal’s training grounds, no one could object. The crown prince treated Bihan like family, and Bihan felt the same; neither of them thought much of it.
“You’ve come again, Your Highness?”
“I told you to speak comfortably when it’s just us. You’re too stiff. Anyway, I hear you’ve been troubled over your sword lately?”
Despite his ever-smiling demeanor, the prince quickly pierced through to people’s innermost thoughts. Bihan, thinking that this was a man worthy of serving in the future, chuckled. He too enjoyed the prince’s company.
“Where do you keep hearing such nonsense? Me? Troubled by the sword?”
Bihan replied with a light laugh.
“Well, I suppose it does sound ridiculous. Still, this is something I think will pique your interest: the Demon Sword of the first Duke Piar.”
The crown prince spoke of the demon sword belonging to the founder of Bihan’s house—the first duke, who was also one of only three Sword Masters in history.
It was said that whenever the first duke appeared on the battlefield wielding the demon sword, allies rejoiced in relief while enemies lost their wits and fled.
“The Crimson Flame Sword… drenched in blood and burning red, the symbol of victory.”
Bihan quietly murmured the sword’s epithet.
“But didn’t that sword vanish along with the duke?”
“That’s just it—it didn’t.”
Delighted by Bihan’s interest, the crown prince rubbed his palms together. He could be so unrestrained at times. Leaning in, he whispered like a sly merchant closing a deal.
“I happened to overhear my father talking the other day. And guess what I learned? The Crimson Flame Sword wasn’t lost at all.”
“And that means…?”
“It still exists. Somewhere in this world.”
That he had eavesdropped on the emperor himself didn’t matter to Bihan. He focused only on the information that interested him.
The crown prince, expecting this very reaction, nudged Bihan’s shoulder playfully.
“They say the first duke loved his sword so much that he sealed himself inside it. He wanted to become the sword itself. You, of all people—can’t you understand that?”
It sounded utterly mad, and yet somehow, it made sense. Bihan nodded.
“Yes… if it’s the first lord, then I can believe it.”
“Right? I thought so too. Didn’t he even say once, ‘One must revel in the festival of blood’? No ordinary man could ever understand that.”
The two boys, sharing the same thought, laughed together.
Kyle fiar, the first duke, had truly been obsessed with the sword. He ate little, slept less, and trained endlessly until he became the first Sword Master in history.
“His skill was said to be beyond explanation—unless you claimed he was a dragon in polymorph. And he still forced his way to Sword Master.”
“When he disappeared, people just assumed, ‘That lunatic’s gone off to train again.’”
So obsessed with the sword was Kyle fiar that Bihan revered him deeply.
“If the first duke reached Sword Master, then I too must have the potential.”
That same realm was Bihan’s goal as well.
“Alright, here’s a question!”
The crown prince snapped Bihan out of his thoughts, clearly thrilled to have Bihan so absorbed.
“A question?”
“You’re so impatient. Fine, fine.”
When Bihan urged him to hurry, the prince grinned mischievously.
“Then where is that legendary sword—the Crimson Flame Sword—right now?”
The mischievous expression on his face betrayed how eager he was to reveal the answer. Neither boy had the faintest idea of the tragedy awaiting them as they excitedly delved into the mystery of the Crimson Flame Sword.
Seeing Bihan so intrigued was a rare sight. Except for matters concerning the sword, he was indifferent to almost everything, never showing much enthusiasm.
The crown prince, who always sought to surprise him, now had the perfect opportunity. Teasingly, he goaded Bihan.
“Curious, aren’t you? You’re dying to know, right?”
“…”
“Of course you are. You must be going mad with curiosity. It’s not just any sword—it’s the sword of Kyle fiar, the very first Sword Master and duke!”
“…”
“And that’s not all—it’s a legendary blade that houses a Sword Master himself.”
The prince’s giddy excitement was so over-the-top that Bihan’s own interest began to wane. Being asked every five seconds if he was thrilled was more irritating than anything.
“…Yeah. I’m curious.”
Even a passing dwarf could have told from his tone that the answer was half-hearted. The crown prince pouted immediately.
“What’s that? You don’t sound curious at all.”
If left unchecked, the prince would surely stir up more trouble. Uneasy about the consequences, Bihan forced himself to sound more sincere.
“How did you even find this out? That’s pretty impressive.”
“…You think so?”
Bihan drove the point home.
“Yes. Honestly, I’m dying of curiosity.”
As always, the crown prince bounced back quickly, delighted. In an excited voice, he began to reveal what he had learned.
“Apparently, since the first duke himself is bound within it, the fiar family never let a word of it slip outside. Bihan, you’d only have learned this once you became head of the house. Thanks to me, you’re hearing it years early. You’d better be grateful, future duke.”
The prince hardly needed to insist—Bihan already was grateful.
He had been wrestling with the problem of advancing further. To study both the man who had attained Sword Master as a mere human and the sword that contained him seemed invaluable.
“Sealed within the sword of his own will… he even became the sword voluntarily. If it were anyone else, I’d laugh. But him? I can believe it.”
Since the claim had come from the emperor’s mouth, the likelihood of truth was high. It also matched what Bihan already knew, and the details fit neatly.
“It’s worth confirming. After all, this directly concerns my family.”
Having lived all his life within the duke’s estate, Bihan easily deduced where the Crimson Flame Sword must be hidden.
One of the abilities he gained after becoming a Sword Expert was the power to sense distortions in the flow of ambient mana.
“Father’s office.”
Even skilled knights would struggle with this, but Bihan’s relentless drive allowed him to succeed. He found the faint distortion of mana within his father’s study—proof of a concealed chamber.
And so, he entered the secret room. Thus, the great tragedy began.
Creak.
Following the mana flow, Bihan entered.
“So this is the place…”
Cold and dark, the chamber held only one object at its center: a crimson-glowing sword, suspended within a great glass dome.
Bihan immediately realized that to approach it, he would need to break through the array of wards protecting it.
Though young, he had reached the realm of Sword Expert—an accomplishment so rare that most people could never hope to achieve it in a lifetime. Few nations in the world even possessed such warriors.
“So that’s what it means—that only the head of house can approach this blade.”
It was one of the requirements of becoming Duke Piar. Bihan’s father, too, was a Sword Expert. If his father could approach it, then so could Bihan.
Shhh—
Every magical barrier that sought to bind his steps, he split apart with sword aura. Step by step, he drew closer, the overwhelming energy radiating from the sword stirring his very soul.
The concealment spells that kept such a weapon hidden amazed him.
“At this level… it must have been the first emperor who laid these wards.”
Even centuries after his death, the emperor’s magic still endured. That was the kind of mage he had been.
Alongside the Sword Master, he had overturned the world and founded an empire—an 8th-class Archmage and a Sword Master, side by side. Both had left an indelible mark on history, though the Sword Master himself had shown no interest in ruling.
Everyone assumed he had simply withdrawn into the mountains, dedicating himself entirely to the sword.
“Even now, Lord Kyle must be training somewhere.”
“Of course. That’s just how he is.”
People often joked about his fate that way.
Bihan too imagined him as a noble swordsman, wholly devoted to the blade.
But then—
—Hey, brat! When you see an elder, isn’t the first thing you should do to bow and greet him properly?!
Whether the stories of his Eastern origins were true or not, the man’s first words to Bihan were an angry scolding.
