As soon as morning came, Yuri set out from the village. He didn’t bother to find out what had happened to the fugitives.
Before crossing the plains, he planned to stop by Liberta to meet with his master, Moyongchan, even if the journey to Valshad was urgent. Visiting Liberta was part of the plan.
He needed to talk with Moyongchan about everything that had happened, especially about Simma.
The four of them rode swiftly.
“Hey, why don’t you take a break for a bit…?”
“Rest when you’re in the grave.”
Francesco whined periodically, but Yuri paid no mind.
Of course, Francesco wasn’t always complaining. Whenever he paused, he would sit alone and practice his mana method.
Though the energy he wielded was far too small to call him a knight, he persevered in his training. He believed he could recover someday and kept searching for ways to do so.
“Being one of the Ten Strong really makes a difference.”
“Indeed.”
Yuri nodded at Jared’s admiration.
Controlling even a tiny amount of mana is incredibly difficult. You have to maintain a faint, fragile energy without losing it, channeling it through your entire body.
Yet Francesco kept practicing his mana method, sweat dripping down his face.
“If he regains his mana, he might become even stronger than before.”
“Most definitely.”
“Is it okay to keep teasing him like that?”
“It’s fine.”
Yuri himself had done this kind of training in his past life.
He had deeply studied the Briol method, exploring various ways to manipulate mana, and in the process, trained his ability to control even the smallest amounts of it.
“I don’t need that kind of training to be good.”
“Ah, yes…”
“We have to leave soon, so wake me up when it’s time.”
“Understood.”
Jared approached Francesco, and Yuri called over Simon and Guiness, who were sparring.
“Hey, let’s go!”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
Unlike Francesco, who trained alone, Simon and Guiness spent their rest time sparring together.
Their time with Moyongchan in Liberta seemed to have paid off; even at a glance, they handled their swords much better than before.
As they approached, Yuri casually called out to them.
“Simon.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t just wait for openings—try to create them.”
“Ah, yes!”
“Guiness, your mana is too erratic. Practice keeping it steady.”
“Got it!”
Both thanked Yuri for the advice.
Francesco smiled wryly.
“Our Briol prince has a keen eye. Not bad for his age.”
“I have some advice for you too, Francesco.”
“Hm?”
“Sit up straight. You’ll ruin your spine like that.”
“Oh, right…”
“Let’s go.”
The five horses started galloping.
“What’s that?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Following a rough road, Yuri’s group unexpectedly encountered someone.
They often met merchants or travelers along the way, but this time, a group of knights appeared.
The knights raised their hands in greeting, and Yuri’s group gradually slowed.
“Who are you?”
Judging by the emblem on their chests, they were knights of Liberta.
“I am Yuri Briol, the prince of Briol. I’ve come to see my master, the great hero Moyongchan.”
“Hmm?”
The knight’s eyes widened at Yuri’s words.
He glanced at Yuri’s black hair, then surveyed the entire group accompanying him.
“Is there a way to verify your identity?”
Yuri showed his identification badge.
The knight examined it but tilted his head in doubt. Since they were from different countries, he lacked the expertise to distinguish it, and such badges could easily be forged.
Yuri chuckled.
“There’s no benefit in deceiving you. Or would you prefer I show you how well Yuri Briol wields a sword, as the rumors say?”
“No, no. I was just taken aback. So, you’re here to see Moyongchan?”
“Yes.”
“Then we will escort you.”
“Are you also here to see the master?”
“Yes.”
The knight gestured to the group moving with him.
“We were on a training mission.”
“Training?”
“Yes. Moyongchan travels around Liberta conducting knight training—reviewing swordsmanship and teaching useful techniques. We’re lucky to be part of it this time.”
He smiled broadly. Moyongchan’s training seemed quite popular.
“That’s good. Let’s go together.”
“Yes.”
And so, Yuri’s group accompanied the Liberta knights.
The knights traveling with Yuri were called the Gale Knights, a group formed by young knights banding together.
No wonder most of them were young, and their skill levels weren’t particularly high.
They rode hard toward a village on the outskirts of Liberta.
“Is that the place?”
“Yes.”
But instead of entering the village, the knights circled around it.
“Moyongchan is… ah!”
The knight pointed in one direction.
“There.”
Yuri soon spotted a flag flying high in the middle of the fields outside the village.
Though the script was in an eastern language he couldn’t read, the brushstrokes conveyed strength.
And beneath that flag stood Moyongchan.
“Ah…”
“It must be a long-awaited reunion.”
“Yeah.”
As they talked on the way, the knight who had come to believe Yuri’s identity smiled.
“Go ahead and greet him first. We’ll catch up slowly.”
“That’s fine…”
He seemed to expect a heartfelt reunion between master and disciple.
“You should pay your respects first. Heh, we’ll take another lap around.”
The knight subtly slowed their pace.
Though reluctant, Yuri stepped forward alone, moving ahead of the group to meet Moyongchan.
Moyongchan, standing beneath the flag, suddenly opened his eyes.
Yuri thought he’d feel nothing, but seeing Moyongchan after so long stirred a strange emotion within him.
He dismounted and approached his master.
It had been a long time since they last met, and many things had happened, yet Moyongchan looked just as he remembered—unchanged.
“Master.”
“Yuri.”
They looked at each other.
Then,
They swung their swords.
“Your eyes are as sharp as ever, but your attitude hasn’t improved.”
“And your pronunciation hasn’t gotten any better, Master.”
“You’re not worth correcting!”
They clashed swords repeatedly, each trying to cut the other. Mana exploded around them, kicking up dust and dirt.
The knights watching nearby could feel their surprise.
But the two didn’t stop.
“Oh ho, your old techniques have gotten stronger. You’ve grown a lot.”
“I was always taller than you.”
“You insolent brat!”
They glared at each other, gauging each other’s energy.
Soon, both wore expressions of admiration.
“Master, you’ve grown stronger.”
“So have you.”
Yuri smiled as he saw the calm, flowing energy around Moyongchan.
When he’d heard about the “Sword Without Shadow” and the demonic cult, he’d thought they might be the strongest group in the East—but that was a mistake. Moyongchan was no less formidable.
“I met someone called the ‘Sword Without Shadow.’”
“One of the Ten Strong?”
“Yes. He was powerful. And he came from the East.”
Moyongchan raised an eyebrow.
“From the East?”
“Yes. He called himself Cheonma.”
His eyebrows lifted even higher.
Then, swinging his sword, he said,
“Keep going.”
As they exchanged swordplay, Yuri recounted everything that had happened.
Moyongchan’s expression darkened when he heard about Cedric being a fiend, and about Fiore and Laurent’s disappearance.
“The Dark Angel Secretary… so such a thing existed.”
Moyongchan was now speaking with perfect pronunciation.
Yuri wondered if Moyongchan wasn’t actually bad at the common tongue, but rather deliberately slurred his words to tease others. When distracted, his speech naturally reverted to flawless common language.
“I’ll find out one day.”
Moyongchan’s sword came flying at Yuri with a sharp edge, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Yes. Because of that, the Sword Without Shadow seems to follow Cedric.”
“Of course. The demonic cult is a place where the Dark Angel holds absolute authority.”
“Those who absorb the power of the Dark Angel Secretary transform into inhuman beings, becoming even stronger.”
“Is that so? Truly bizarre and grotesque.”
“You use such fancy words so well…”
“Anyway!”
Yuri’s speech was even more fluent than before, especially compared to when Fiore was around.
“Cedric seemed like a decent guy. But I guess not…”
“If he seemed decent, why do you say ‘I guess not’?”
“Because most humans aren’t decent. When a decent one suddenly appears, you have to be suspicious.”
“Are you part of the righteous faction?”
Moyongchan’s worldview was far from normal.
As they talked and sparred, the rest of the group and the Gale Knights dismounted and watched their duel from a distance.
Every time their sword energy flashed and shook the ground, gasps of awe escaped.
“Yuri, your disciples are watching. Are you going to show them a disgrace?”
“They’re watching, but Master, you should be more worried.”
“You’re so cheeky.”
“A respected man.”
They smiled at each other.
Though unspoken, Moyongchan felt how much his disciple had grown.
Not only his momentum, but the very energy he radiated had changed. The mana method called Simhoncham once exuded a refined aura, but now it felt strangely murky.
Chaos.
His disciple had embraced it.
Yet the quality of his mana hadn’t diminished. On the contrary, it had grown stronger.
Now, even he dared not peer inside.
High rank, low rank, things beyond his reach—all were tangled together in random, unpredictable ways.
And so, this guy named Yuri Briol stood in a realm no one had ever ventured into before.
Moyongchan winced, thinking of what his disciple must have endured to get here.
Where others would never have dared to start down this path, Yuri walked it boldly. That determination was both admirable and heartbreaking.
There was no way to overcome Simma.
Therefore—
There was only one way to handle chaos.
“Have you made madness your companion?”
“Yes.”
Yuri smiled faintly.
Every night, the Simma that weighed down his dreams had become a part of him, something he accepted and owned.
This life was his second chance.
So he had no intention of seeking comfort or safety.
If he broke, he would break—and still move forward. If that meant killing Cedric and wiping out all black magic from the world, he was willing to pay any price.
“Good.”
Moyongchan spread his arms wide.
“Now that I know your resolve, show me. I’ll judge whether you’ve gained power worthy of that mindset—or if it’s all just empty bravado.”
“Likewise.”
Yuri raised his Guilty. Chaos rippled atop it.
“Master, why don’t you show me once, too?”
“Show you what?”
“Proper pronunciation is normal, but deliberately twisting your tongue—that’s the real test.”
“Ah, no way.”
“Fine. Knock me out and pour cold water on me, then we’ll see.”
“How?”
“When you lose consciousness, your natural reaction will come out. If you say, ‘Ah, that’s cold!’ then I’m right. If you say, ‘Ouch, that’s hot!’ then you win.”
“Do you think you can knock me out?”
“Master.”
Yuri stepped closer.
“If you pass out looking ugly, I’ll cover you up.”
“Alright. I’ll gather every tooth you knock out and keep them safe.”
The two exchanged rough banter as they summoned their energies.
Yuri lifted his Guilty.
Suddenly, a wind stirred.
They stood on a vast plain. Spectators kept their distance, all knights capable of defending themselves.
It was a battlefield where destroying the surroundings was no problem.
The wind grew stronger, soon forming a perfect vortex.
Gears made of sword energy began to mesh and turn.
Small gears drove larger ones, larger ones drove even bigger ones.
A fractal whirlwind appeared on the plains of Liberta, tearing apart everything caught within its teeth.
But Moyongchan did not stand idly by.
A straight, smooth sword energy, capable of quelling all chaos, rose nobly before the vortex.
Two swordsmen.
Two monsters born of their combined will.
The Gale Knights watched with mouths agape, witnessing the spectacle unfold.