Chapter 722
“The Invisible Man.”
In Tweller’s flickering eyes, the past bloomed vividly.
Back then, Tweller was a low-ranking soldier just past his eighteenth birthday. His family had been torn apart by poverty, and to survive, he had lied about his age to enlist. It had been exactly three years. He spent his days patrolling a small northern territory, each day blending into the next.
Some might have called it peace. But to Tweller, it was a prison of unbearable boredom. What on earth was he doing here? Was this all life was?
Those suffocating days, when he could only live by turning a blind eye to his own frustration, came rushing back to him.
“Tweller. Shift change.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Reading those books again, huh? Learning stuff like that just makes life harder for guys like us.”
“Guys like us?” What does that even mean? Your pathetic self has nothing to do with me.
Tweller thought this silently, then closed his book. The day’s duties would soon be over. He didn’t want to waste time on pointless arguments.
“What are you saying? Learning is always right. The only way to truly see the world clearly is through knowledge. Tweller is doing well—everyone else should follow his example and work harder.”
The knight serving close to the lord spoke. He treated even the youngest soldiers with respect and never hesitated to share knowledge and encouragement.
It was thanks to him that Tweller first encountered books.
“You have no one else, do you? Always learn and read. If you’re afraid of where life might lead, hold on even tighter. Children of noble families are surrounded by advisors, but you? Who do you have to learn from?”
“…Do I really have to learn?”
“No, not necessarily. If you’re content with life, that’s a blessing in itself. But from what I’ve seen of you, that’s not the case.”
He often brought books to Tweller. Others around would make snide remarks, but he seemed unfazed. In fact, he smiled with genuine joy whenever Tweller finished a book.
“Reading is like fully inheriting someone else’s experience. And these people are all sages beyond their time.”
Ah, yes. He was a teacher.
At the time, Tweller hadn’t realized it fully—he only thought of him as a kind man. But later, Tweller would say without hesitation that this man was his mentor, the one who gathered the scattered pieces of his drifting life and set them in order.
So it was only natural that Tweller resolved to become a great warrior like him.
“Tweller, swing your sword wider! Your strength is good, but I sense hesitation at the tip.”
“Yes, sorry.”
“Again!”
It was an ordinary day. Tweller swung his sword under the knight’s guidance. The territory was peaceful, and even the emptiness in his heart felt touched by sunlight.
Until the sudden message arrived.
Tap, tap, tap!
“Trouble!”
“What is it?”
“A scout who climbed the hill behind the territory was found dead. It looks like there’s an intruder.”
It was the first time something like this had happened. The knight grabbed his sword and gathered the soldiers. Yet, none of them were particularly alarmed on the way to the scene.
“Maybe he just ran into a bear.”
“Doesn’t seem like it. The neck was cleanly sliced.”
“Why was he up there alone anyway?”
“Who knows? Maybe he was sneaking off to meet a lover.”
“Does that guy even have a lover? No way!”
The soldiers chuckled over their silly talk, but Tweller quickened his pace in heavy silence, following the knight’s example.
Soon, they found the body and confirmed the report.
“This is bad…”
The throat was slashed from the front, splitting the windpipe. Was he caught off guard? There were no signs of a struggle.
As the knight examined the corpse, a sudden scream erupted from among the distracted soldiers.
Shhhhk!
“Ahhh!”
“What—what was that?”
“Hey! What’s going on?”
Something invisible flew in and sliced a soldier’s neck. The men collapsed, clutching wounds identical to the corpse’s. The knight drew his sword swiftly.
“Stay alert! It’s the enemy!”
Cough, gag!
“Damn it! What the hell—!”
But the attacker was nowhere to be seen. The knight focused all his senses, but the presence was disorienting, and his men kept falling.
“Don’t be afraid! Stay sharp!”
He tried to rally them, but the soldiers fell helplessly. Could an ordinary man really strike an invisible foe?
The mysterious assault soon targeted the knight himself.
Shhhhk! Shhhhk!
He miraculously blocked a few strikes, but it was no use. Flesh tore here and there, blood splattering.
His agonized groans were shocking. The steadfast knight, always standing firm, seemed to have his heart sink as he dropped to his knees.
Thud!
His body tilted backward.
What could Tweller do then? Everyone was dead, and the enemy unseen. Instinctively, he dropped to the ground and begged for his life.
“Please, stop!”
Silence. No sound but the still forest. Tweller squeezed his eyes shut, trembling.
Gone? Still here? Who—or what—was this enemy? Invisible, he lay in endless fear.
“Tw…eller.”
Then, a faint, dry voice. Tweller startled and turned his head.
The dead knight’s eyes stared straight at him. “Don’t lose the pride of a swordsman,” he seemed to say, full of reproach. How foolish to bow before the enemy.
“Ah.”
Tears streamed down Tweller’s face as he looked around. Everyone was dead, yet he was alive. What did that mean? He had begged for his life, and the enemy had spared him. Even now, the foe might be watching from somewhere.
‘How shameful.’
He felt nothing but disgrace. He was so pathetic he could barely bear it.
Trembling, Tweller scanned the empty air. So this was what invisible fear felt like. This was what it meant to live as a swordsman.
Snap!
He sprang up and ran. Down to the village, he gathered the people.
The lord, realizing the gravity of the situation, assembled all soldiers and sent them into the forest. Fortunately, the bodies were recovered safely, and the mysterious attacks ceased. The enemy had vanished.
“What on earth was that?”
“Yeah. And why kill without reason?”
“They said the enemy was invisible. Strange to attack first without even being seen. Right, Tweller?”
“Hey, don’t ask that.”
“True. Must have been painful to watch everyone die right in front of you.”
Only Tweller knew what it meant to be the sole survivor who had witnessed it all.
He couldn’t bear it. He realized he could no longer live here. Before leaving, he swore at the knight’s grave. Bowing his head, he muttered as he had before the invisible enemy.
“I apologize and repent. From now on, no matter what happens, I will uphold the pride of a warrior. I was too foolish to understand what it truly means to protect with one’s life.”
A heavy weight inside his chest boiled over. He stayed bowed for a long time before leaving the village.
He went straight to the capital to reenlist, rebuilding his understanding of what it meant to wield a sword. The world was vast and chaotic, so much so that his monotonous past felt like a dream.
Snap!
He gladly stepped into that bloodstained place, guided by the vow made before the grave—over half a century ago.
“Long ago, before I was even twenty, I owed my life to someone. To this day, I still don’t know who it was.”
Tweller’s gaze fixed on Randarin Village. His eyes were cold, but his voice carried a strange excitement.
“A very old debt.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. It’s been so long it’s become part of me. Anyway, by chance, I heard about the ‘Invisible Man’ and became intrigued. I think it might be the same one.”
Tweller looked down at a woman bleeding out on the ground. Even as she died, she hadn’t lost hope—her fingertips had turned transparent.
But that was all.
Crack!
A palace guard drove his sword into the back of her hand, punishing the impudence of attempting to harm the emperor.
“Ahhh!”
Jin leaned on one side of his jaw, looking down at the woman indifferently. He wondered if invisibility was her only power.
“I’ve heard rumors that an assassin family from some kingdom somehow infiltrated Gaia. The story isn’t fully reliable, but since this presence suddenly appeared, it’s worth considering.”
“An assassin family?”
“Masters of killing.”
“An assassin family, huh? Their stealth seemed sloppy, though. Weren’t they supposed to be natives of Toorun?”
She fell immediately after one attack from Barsabe.
One officer grabbed the woman’s hair, inspecting her face for signs of mixed blood. Nearby, Jerat added,
“She might have hidden in Randarin Village, where the native tribes live. Not everyone there is invisible, so that would make sense.”
“So the ability was inherited but stopped there?”
Hmm. Jin stroked his chin thoughtfully.
At that moment, a sharp gasp escaped her throat. The woman was dead. Barsabe’s strike had found her vital spot with deadly precision—an inevitable outcome. There had been so much to ask, but there was no choice now.
“I’ve heard their abilities come with no physical toll or limits. Even the objects they hold become completely assimilated, turning transparent. So tricks like smearing paint won’t work.”
“Tricky adversaries,” muttered one of the sword-wielders, watching the woman’s dagger clatter to the ground. If only there were mages here—then setting up protective barriers would be no problem. But now, they had to maintain a steady formation around the Emperor.
“They’re difficult, yes, but only up to a point.”
The barriers and all that magic were meaningless—just shallow tricks on their part. Tweller felt his heart pounding as he bowed his head to Jin.
“Your Majesty, they have shown disrespect by killing Bariel’s soldiers behind your back, even while praising you to your face. Such insolence cannot be forgiven. Therefore, I ask permission to take matters into my own hands and eliminate them. I will leave no regrets, no worries, nothing undone.”
Regrets and worries. Jin’s attention sharpened on those words—he sensed they belonged to Tweller himself. Without hesitation, Jin gestured his approval.
“Do as you see fit.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Tweller’s gratitude was sincere. This war would be the last he could fight in. Having found the purpose he sought at the end of his warrior’s path, how could he not be glad? Only by cutting down that unseen foe could he die in peace.
Deep within that village lay the final threads of a past long buried. It was time to tie them off.
“I will go with you,” Barsabe said, drawing her sword and stepping forward. Tweller looked at her with a mix of envy and admiration. The courage and skill to strike what cannot be seen—truly, the depth of those who wield magic was astonishing. He had witnessed it firsthand once again.
But admiration was just that—admiration.
“Thank you, Captain Barsabe. But it would be best if you stayed by His Majesty’s side. This is a matter of great importance to me, and I intend to see it through alone.”
Tweller drew a firm line.