Chapter 15

A star rose in the underground city of Artman. Artman, where no starlight could reach due to the ceiling blocking the sky, was now illuminated by a star, making it all the more prominent.

A clear light, not obscured by thick fog or dim light from ore lamps.

The platinum-colored starlight, something the boy had longed for, now lay in his hands. Gazing at the star in his grasp, he blinked in disbelief.

‘I really did it.’

In his hand was the Sword of the Star.

The sacred sword, Excalibur, a symbol akin to King Arthur himself. Looking at the glowing sword, Najin’s eyes were dyed in platinum color.

A gamble taken in desperation.

The only basis for this gamble was the voice echoing in his head and his own intuition. Yet, he really managed to pull out the sword. Although it felt unreal, the weight of the sword in his hand confirmed to Najin that this was reality.

‘If so.’

If this is reality.

If he’s not dreaming.

“Drugmaker Hakan.”

There was something he had to do.

The boy, once lost in dreams, returned to reality. Feeling the cold touch of the sword hilt on his fingertips, Najin slowly lifted the sword.

Aimed at Hakan.

Facing the intruder in Ivan’s territory, Najin smiled with the sword pointed at Hakan.

“Any last words?”

The boy, once in tatters.

The only change from moments ago was the sword in the boy’s hand. However, the boy was, albeit weakly, a swordsman, and for a swordsman, a change in the sword meant everything had changed.

The tide of battle had turned.

The scales had tipped.

The boy stood, while Hakan sat collapsed. She still had many addicts left, but the star in the boy’s hand wasn’t something that could be overshadowed by such trivialities. Hakan burst into hollow laughter.

“Does this even make sense?”

Who could have imagined?

That a boy from this filthy underground city, filled with nothing but discarded things, would pull out Excalibur. Hakan had prepared for this day for a full 17 years.

Faced with the boy who thwarted her plans, Hakan could only respond with hollow laughter.

Najin stomped the ground.

Holding the sword trailing platinum starlight, the boy advanced toward Hakan. The addicts rushed towards him without waiting for their master’s command, but they were already finished; they couldn’t stop the boy’s path.

Swoosh!

The addicts were swept away like a current.

Hakan stared blankly at this scene. There, she saw the dream she had left behind in the upper city. The thing she had longed for but never obtained.

‘Stars.’

Brightly shining stars.

Not everyone in this city might have dreamed of stars, but at least the strong representatives of each area once dreamed of them.

Land Spider Horace.

One-Eyed Ivan.

Drugmaker Hakan.

They all once dreamed of having their own star. Yearned to hang their star in the lofty night sky. Having fallen into this city while reaching for the sky, they could never forget the starlight.

“Ah…”

Hakan groaned in front of the approaching star.

The star eventually stopped right in front of Hakan. She looked up at the boy.

His body was a mess from the explosion. Clothes stained with soot and the blood of addicts. However, his eyes hadn’t lost their brightness. On the contrary, they were even more vivid than before.

Hakan sensed her impending doom.

Realizing her end, she sneered at her fate and at the miserable future awaiting the boy.

“Kid.”

Hakan smiled at the boy.

It was the laughter of a loser who had dreamed like the boy but fell into this city.

“That light… it’s not meant for this city.”

You’ve drawn too much attention.

You might have been worthy to pull the sword, but…

“That light is something you’re not ready to possess.”

You’ve moved ahead too soon. You’ve grasped something too bright without being prepared.

“The higher-ups don’t bless those with starlight. If someone unprepared possesses it, they just crush it.”

She lifted her right arm.

A right arm scorched with a brand, similar to Ivan’s lost right eye and Horace’s lost fingers.

“You too will be crushed.”

Having grasped a greater light than us,

you will lose something even more immense.

“You will lose everything.”

It was a curse, a prophecy, and advice.

Listening to Hakan’s words, Najin recalled a not-so-distant past. Tricksy’s curse when he sensed his death.

“Najin, you will rot in this city for the rest of your life!”

At that time, he couldn’t refute.

Although he always wanted to, knowing it was true, Najin merely let their words pass.

‘But now.’

It’s different.

Having crossed the line, Najin had started to run. He reached for the unreachable and grasped it. Now it was time to look higher and start running.

No one can block that path.

“That’s your story.”

Najin spoke.

“The story of those who failed and fell into this city…”

Success and failure are a thin line apart.

How his future will turn out can only be known by facing it. Rather than resigning, giving up, and feeling bitterness, he’d rather choose the path of crashing head-on.

The shackles that bound him for so long had shattered. Najin’s eyes were no longer tainted with the dull sunset of the underground city but were colored in the platinum light of the Sword of the Star.

“I have no intention of listening to the stories of failures.”

“Ha!”

At the word ‘failures’, Hakan burst into laughter.

“Right, you’re not wrong.”

Hakan twisted her lips into a sneer.

“Let’s see then.”

Najin lifted his sword.

“If you can still say that…”

After feeling it yourself.

How cruel and ruthless the world above can be. Feel it with your own body, Hakan shouted.

And then, Najin swung his sword.

The body of Drugmaker Hakan fell. Looking down at the blood on the floor, Najin exhaled deeply. His body ached, not just from the injuries.

A feeling of something draining from his body.

This feeling of exhaustion intensified after swinging Excalibur. Gasping for breath, Najin lowered the sword. He had defeated Hakan and cut down all the addicts. If only things could end here…

“…”

Najin silently extended his gaze.

There, residents who had fled in the chaos, and the underground city’s inhabitants peering out of buildings, were watching him.

Watching the sword in his hands.

The star that rose in the underground city.

But not everyone was looking at the star. Some were observing the boy holding the star. They were soldiers sent from the upper city, guards who had been protecting the vicinity of Excalibur.

The moment their eyes met, Najin realized.

He had to pursue them and kill them. He had to silence their mouths. But Najin no longer had the strength to chase after them, who had disappeared into the crowd. He limped down the back alleys.

This was not a dream, but reality.

Since it was reality, Najin had to make a decision. To avoid being crushed, as Hakan had said. Najin began to flee to a place where no one’s eyes could reach.

***

The Order of the Star.

Starblood, Starbody, and Starlight.

Once a single order in the distant past, now divided into three distinct factions. Among them, Orland, the head priest of the Starlight faction, furrowed his brows.

“What brings you here so early in the morning, Berlot?”

Berlot, a knight of the order, accompanied by two soldiers, came to visit Orland’s office. He knelt the soldiers before Orland and greeted him with a bow.

“There is news you must hear.”

“Is it about last night’s extraction of the sacred sword? I’m already tired of hearing about it. I’ve been swamped with letters from every territory. I’m quite busy, you know.”

Orland tapped his desk impatiently.

“Is this something so important that you had to report to me directly?”

“Yes, more important than anything else.”

If the usually reticent knight Berlot was insisting so much, it must be crucial information. Orland exhaled deeply and gestured Berlot to proceed. And the story that Berlot told was enough to make Orland put down his quill and widen his eyes in shock.

“Berlot.”

“Yes, please give me your orders.”

“If there’s even a shred of falsehood in what you’ve said, you will find yourself falling into the place you’ve just mentioned, voiceless.”

“I swear to the divine, it’s the truth.”

“This can’t be!”

Orland slammed his desk.

“I ordered to guard that sword so no one could touch it! And now you’re telling me someone from that city of sinners has drawn the sacred sword? How can such a story even be plausible!”

His eyes quivered with emotion.

Pressing his finger against his forehead, lined with veins, Orland exhaled slowly. Berlot had just reported that a boy from the underground city had pulled Excalibur last night.

Testimonies from the soldiers guarding the sword.

Eyewitness accounts from the sinners of the city.

‘I thought it would be one of the three – the Sword Saint of the Order of the Sword, the Executioner of the Starblood Order, or the Sword Master of the Empire…’

With the continent in turmoil after the extraction of the sacred sword, the general consensus was limited to those three. They were the closest to Arthur, and it was believed they were the only ones worthy to draw the sword.

One of them must have drawn the sword and kept it hidden. That’s what people thought, including Orland, the high priest of the Starlight Order.

‘But now.’

It wasn’t one of the three who drew the sword.

A boy living in the underground city, unnoticed by people’s eyes or starlight, had drawn the sword. Orland could hardly believe it.

Incredible but undeniable.

Given the situation, a decision had to be made.

The position of leading an order always demands quick judgments. The elderly priest Orland chose to decide rather than to understand the situation.

“How many know of this? Who are the witnesses?”

“In the city of sinners, there are countless. However, the only ones who can step into this city are these two.”

He pointed to the two soldiers kneeling before Orland. Orland narrowed his eyes.

“Only these two?”

“Yes. They were on guard duty last night. They neglected their duties and failed to prevent a sinner from approaching the sacred sword.”

“Dispose of them.”

With a flick of his finger, Orland issued the verdict. Before the soldiers could even beg for mercy, Berlot’s sword swung. The blade sliced through the soldiers’ necks.

Swoosh.

As the soldiers collapsed, spewing blood, Orland, without sparing them a glance, turned to Berlot.

“It’s fortunate the Executioner of the Starblood Order didn’t draw the sword, but this makes things more complicated.”

Orland pointed to where Berlot was standing.

“This is the location of the main church of the Starlight Order and the seat of the order’s tribunal. Isn’t it absurd that a sinner judged under the light of stars here should possess the sacred sword?”

Starlight, Starbody, Starblood. Each order had its own tribunal and methods of judgment.

The Starblood Order judges sins through blood.

The sinner is executed where the most stars can witness, bleeding them to death as punishment for their sins.

The Starbody Order judges sins through the body.

The sinner’s body is torn and scattered, punishing their sins.

And the Starlight Order…

An order that judges sins through light, deprives the sinner of the chance to see starlight, condemning them to rot underground for life without the grace of stars.

“The fact that a sinner judged under the starlight has drawn the sword…”

Orland asserted.

“Undermines the foundation of the Starlight Order’s tribunal and tarnishes the essence of the order. An event that should never have happened.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I trust you understand what I mean, Knight Berlot.”

Dispose of it. That was what Orland was saying.

All the powerhouses of the continent, even the transcendent beings, and even the stars in the night sky, still don’t know who drew the sword. Now is the only time.

Erase it as if it never happened.

Quietly, cleanly.

Of course, Orland had other options.

He could make an exception to the order’s ways and forgive the boy’s sins to keep him by his side, or admit the order’s erroneous judgment.

But Orland chose not to.

He was the high priest leading the order, and his faith in his own order was stronger than anyone else’s. He knew there couldn’t be any flaws in the path the order had taken. So, he chose to bury the flaw that had been created. There was no compromise in that decision.

That’s how Orland had always lived.

That’s how he had always sorted things out.

The head of the Starlight Order, existing above the underground city, had made his judgment about the boy.

“Can I trust you to handle this?”

“I will meet your expectations.”

With a bow, Berlot left the office. As latecomers dragged the soldiers’ bodies away, Berlot walked down the church’s corridor, pondering.

The city of sinners, Artman.

He was in charge of managing the church’s soldiers sent there, so he knew well who ruled that city.

‘Knight of Atanga, Ivan.’

Once a comrade, standing on the same battlefield, but ultimately fallen, Ivan now ruled that city.

A smile crept onto Berlot’s lips.

“Time to see a junior’s face after so long.”

Former Knight of Atanga, Berlot.

Having thrown away his honor and pride with his own hands, now unable to even utter the name of Atanga, the order’s hound smiled.