Star-Embracing Swordmaster (Full)

The wide roads were completely filled with soldiers.

At first glance, it seemed there were tens of thousands of them.

On the left, they carried the imperial flag, and on the right, the flag with the emblem of a beautiful garden. They were the army that Duke Armand had sent with his last remaining forces.

"Stop! Halt the army!"

Following the signal from the Iron Duke, sent by a white dove, the Duke of the Court's army was marching north along the eastern road.

Although they were in a hurry to reach the north, chasing the army led by Duke Sarnus, the Blood Dragon Army, there was a reason they had to stop.

"…What the hell is that?"

Count Arnstein, who had been appointed commander of this expedition, swallowed hard, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing before his eyes.

He always tried to assess situations based on reason, but what he was witnessing now was beyond explanation or common sense.

"Could that be… the moon?"

Over the sun, which was slowly fading, something was rising.

A small black moon, shining like a black pearl.

Not only Count Arnstein, but everyone present remained silent, staring at the sky in awe at the appearance of this anomaly.

"What the hell is happening?"

Although the moon was born in a dark place, it rose with the potential it contained, shining intensely.

The moon, which seemed as if someone had drawn it, gleamed in the sky for all to see.

-······.

However, though no one could explain it, the light from this moon, appearing for the first time today, seemed tragic and sorrowful to everyone who saw it.

***

"…It's a moon that will never return."

A cruel battlefield, with tens of thousands of corpses piled up.

There, a man stood smiling as he looked at the rising moon.

"That moon, which has appeared along with the perfect piece, will never return. It was an excellent choice."

"…"

The bodies were heaped high, and the tall tree had collapsed.

Under the ruins of the distant church, priests were busy trying to locate the Pope, but aside from them, everyone else on the ground lay motionless, unable to lift even a finger.

"If it was such an excellent choice, why didn't you do it sooner?"

Everyone was utterly exhausted.

Like the man currently lying at Vlad's feet.

"I didn't do it because I couldn't believe in it. She was already mad."

Frausen, a faded emperor, remained still with a massive hole in his heart.

He now looked at Vlad, enduring the terrible wounds left by the dragon.

"Perhaps… I couldn't trust anyone. Not her, not you, not even myself."

The light from the black moon shining down paused momentarily on the body that was slowly disintegrating.

A small beam of moonlight that had never existed in this world before.

Frausen's gaze, which had been fixed on the moonlight, suddenly shifted to the man with black hair, being carried by Vlad.

"Although the events of this era should have been left in the hands of the current knights."

Only now, with everything over, could Frausen understand.

In the end, the people who needed to remain where they belonged were the young ones who would lead this land into the future, not those already dead.

"The oldest dragon has gone, in search of the pieces in the north."

Unable to trust in the possibilities he had sown, how was he any different from the oldest dragon, who coveted those young possibilities?

However, there was a small consolation: the other part of him, residing within this knight, had followed the right path.

"He has dragon wings. So, you won't be able to catch up."

Thus, raising his crumbling body one last time, the resurrected emperor pointed toward the city of Bastopol, the Iron Duke's stronghold.

"It may not be perfect, but it will be stronger than anything else. You must stop him from now on."

[······.]

Vlad turned his head to follow the direction Frausen was pointing.

His fingers, directing toward the land of the north where I was born, gradually dispersed and disappeared.

"…No matter where he goes."

However, the place Vlad was looking toward wasn't where Frausen had pointed.

"I already knew that the world of dragons wouldn't be enough to face him."

Vlad, who had already encountered Sarnus in Namarka, had realized that the world of dragons alone could not stand against him.

That's why Vlad was looking toward the distant city of Soara, in the far north.

"So this time, I'll settle it my way, not yours."

There, in that northern land, was the city where he was born, the companions who believed in him, and the possibilities he had saved.

The many colors that awaited him there could be the only way to fight the dragon, who was closer to perfection.

"…Yes."

Frausen laughed as he looked at the knight of this era, who gazed in a completely different direction than the one he had pointed to.

It may be an attempt that could end in another failure, but even that failure was a right that belonged to the owners of this era.

"The moon shines."

Frausen's fingers, illuminated by the moonlight, scattered.

Like fleeting dust.

Watching as the emperor's body slowly disintegrated, as if he had been waiting for this all along, Vlad silently lifted a faded sword from within himself.

***

The distant western sea, where the moon that had risen in the east could not yet be seen.

In that place, which should have been calm, the waves were being violently stirred by enormous ships.

Boom! Boom-boom!

The cries of sailors echoed alongside the booming cannons.

However, even among the golden flags, a red rose flag fluttered vigorously.

"Otar, prepare the third shot!"

"Load the cannons! Focus!"

Amidst the golden fleet, which had regained its strength, the northern ships fought valiantly.

Though they were few in number compared to the relentless assault of the golden ships, the northern ships, with waterwheels on either side, maneuvered evasively to overcome their numerical disadvantage.

"Still scurrying like a rat, red rose!"

There was a person laughing heartily beneath the golden flag at the sight of the northern ships.

"Why don't you charge at me like you did last time, you insolent brat?"

It was Kazan Barbosa, the Duke of Gold.

Another wave was heading toward the north, now aimed at the city of Nassau.

These were strong waves, coming to invade the last sea route the North had left.

"This time I'll make you pay for that debt! The ships you sank here are worth exactly 34,564 gold coins, so don't worry, I'll make you pay for every coin!"

After suffering astronomical losses in the western sea, his eyes were as red as the red beard he was currently growing out.

There was only one place he was focused on: the flag of the red rose.

However, the one-legged captain standing beneath the flag was also watching Barbosa.

"I'm not a brat, I'm Captain Harven!"

And with his ship turning to the side, something no wind-powered ship could achieve, Barbosa was left completely baffled.

"And sorry, but it seems I owe you even more!"

Numerous cannons were lined up along the ship's sides.

But to Barbosa, the one-legged captain holding his old captain's hat seemed more menacing than the cannons aimed at him.

"Firing from that distance?"

Boom! Boom-boom!

The northern cannons aimed directly at Barbosa, who muttered in disbelief.

The cannons, glinting faintly, had been crafted by dwarves.

"Fire!"

With pent-up fury, the cannonballs flew in the direction of the wind Harven had caught.

"Fire! Fire!"

"Those damned southern bastards! Let's kill them all!"

Cannonballs capable of reaching the longest distance in the world.

Bang! Boom!

The cannonballs, fired by the dwarves of Nidavellir, flew toward Barbosa.

However, the wind that pushed behind those cannonballs was likely not due to the dwarves' skills, but to the sea spirits that had arisen, following the persistent scent of Vlad.

***

"Father, the western troops that departed from the city of Nassau have reached the nearby villages."

A heavy silence filled Alicia's office in the city of Deirmar.

This was because the walls of Deirmar alone could not withstand the forces of Gaidar and the Duke of Gold, who were now advancing here.

"They managed to regroup, despite Barbosa's siege."

The western lords who had once declared they would not follow Gaidar were now arriving at the port near Deirmar via Nassau.

They had joined the Northern Front under Charlottd Ravnoma's banner and were valuable allies for the looming war.

"The northern captains gave it their all."

"…"

Peter nodded silently at Rutiger's earlier report.

Though he said they had done their best, what had occurred was nothing short of a miracle.

There had likely been a desperate battle that could not be summed up in just a few words.

"Good. Even unexpected troops have joined."

Peter nodded, stood up, and walked to the window, looking outside.

Though it was a small territory, there were dozens of flags standing tall.

But among them, certain flags caught Peter's attention.

"…Even in truly unexpected places."

They weren't imperial flags but those expressing themselves with colorful threads.

Though everyone had wanted to drive them away, Joseph had insisted on welcoming the northern barbarians, who now stood on this battlefield.

"What's the situation with the dragon fragment?"

"Following the mage Ragmus's guidance, they have arrived near Soara."

"We must regroup soon."

However, even if all these people gathered together, it was clear that they would still be outmatched against the Allied Forces of the West and South.

According to an urgent telegram sent by the Iron Duke, even the blood dragon duke, Sarnus, was after the dragon fragment. To overcome this disadvantage, Peter needed a castle wall higher than Deirmar's.

"How are the evacuation preparations, Baroness Alicia?"

"…"

At that moment, everyone's eyes in the office focused on one woman following Peter's words.

Baroness Alicia Hainal was the rightful owner of this land, but in the end, she had no choice but to relinquish it due to her lack of power.

She opened her mouth, unable to lift her head, seething with anger over her own shortcomings.

"I've sent the elderly and children in the first wave of the evacuation."

"Then, Baroness, you should head to Soara as well…"

Since it was such a sensitive issue, Rutiger stepped forward instead of Peter, but he fell silent when he saw Alicia's bloodshot eyes.

"I will stay here until the very end."

Though she lacked the power to defend it, she was determined to fulfill her final duty by seeing her territory off.

Even Rutiger had no choice but to nod at her resolute spirit.

"I will stay until my territory has fully departed."

Deirmar had finally found hope, but there was nothing she could do against the devastating waves of war.

The waves were too much even for Bayezid, the pillar of the North, so her decision to abandon the territory she was supposed to protect felt like the pain of having her arm ripped off.

-······.

The landscape behind her.

In the lemon-scented hills of Deirmar, a white serpent peeked its head.

Its eyes, which seemed somehow worried, were fixed on the golden dragon still flying in the far north.

Kyu-!

-······?

At that moment, a cute sound was heard, one that didn't match the tense atmosphere.

It was such a carefree sound that it drew not only the attention of the white serpent but also the small spirits atop it.

Kyu?

-······??

From a small hole, the head of a mole peeked out.

Unlike common moles, this one shimmered as it gazed at the white serpent, tilting its head curiously.

"It would have been better to head directly to Sturma."

"There was no choice. The mark I made only reached here. The poor thing needed to know the way, didn't he?"

From the hole the mole had dug, familiar voices could be heard.

They were the voices of the young blonde who had first recognized it and Baradis, who had followed him from the world tree to this place.

"But we made it here safely."

Numerous men emerged one by one from the dark cave, as if they had been waiting.

Elves, beastmen, and even humans.

The men, regardless of race, were all mixed together, their faces covered in black dust, as if they had hurriedly marched through.

"…There's Peter."

The white serpent, the guardian deity of Deirmar, blinked its small eyes as if it couldn't comprehend the sudden sight before it.

However, what caught the white serpent's attention even more than the people emerging was a small root waving at it.

-······!

A familiar root.

Another world tree that had been born from the same mother as her.

Recognizing that tree, bright tears began to well up in the white serpent's eyes.

"I'll take you to our father."

Finally, the worlds had reunited.

However, Joseph, who was being carried on someone's back, kept his head down without saying a word.

"…We can finally go home."

The oldest dragon, wandering in search of fragments, and the countless armies sinking their teeth into the North.

As the oldest dragon sought the fragment and the numerous armies sharpened their blades against the North, black twilight descended upon Deirmar, filled with every color imaginable.

Like a field of flowers in full bloom, each color shone brightly, standing tall against the impending threat.

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