Chapter 51: Interlude – The Moon Hidden by the Sun

It had been three years since I entered the Hero Academy, but my sword remained stagnant. No, it had stopped growing even before that. It was as though I had slammed into an immovable wall.

I swung my sword day and night, desperate to overcome that wall, but all I managed to do was tread in place. There was no progress, no change; my sword had come to a halt.

The Sun Sword Style Sixth Form: White Radiance was the highest form I could manifest now with my swordsmanship. Those who knew House Helios well would say that it was remarkable to have mastered the sixth form at only twenty years old. They would probably add that aside from Reynald Helios, the creator of the Sun Sword Style, no one else had achieved so much at such a young age.

But it wasn’t enough. I had a reason—no, a necessity—to grow even stronger. I had to climb higher and farther, until I could become the blazing sun that shone far above the heavens. I couldn’t stop here.

I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood as I swung my sword again. Every day, without fail, I poured everything I had into my sword. But the result was always the same; the wall before me loomed higher than ever, unyielding and cold.

I had to become stronger. Stronger. Even stronger. If I didn’t, if I couldn’t be alive.

A vision always visited me night after night in my dreams: Accompanied by the sound of a flowerpot shattering, water soaking the floor, and sharp ceramic shards glittering like knives, my mother’s hands would tightly wrap around my throat.

“If only you didn’t exist. If only you were gone! Yoooouuuuuu!”

I vividly remembered the pain of being suffocated and the feeling of my consciousness slipping away, countless bloodshot eyes glaring down at me. So I had to become stronger. Because if I didn’t, I would have no right to still be alive.

Then, one day, a classmate—who, for some reason, always spoke to me as if I were a superior—told me a rumor. It was about a boy named Dale Han, the cadet at the bottom of the rankings.

“Sir Yuren, have you heard?

“No, seriously. The students in Class C keep comparing him to you, Sir Yuren. Are they insane or what?”

At first, it was simple curiosity. Rumors floated around that Dale had defeated Professor Kane, sent Camilla Vediche flying with a single blow, and felled dozens of demonic monsters in the blink of an eye. There were plenty of wild stories, but one in particular seized my attention.

“They say Dale sliced clean through a practice sword with another practice sword, and without any mana.”

A practice sword was basically just a wooden stick. So, using it to cut through another practice sword without mana was an incredible feat. Only someone with a good mastery of the sword could achieve it.

It made me curious, and I went to see him. When I reached his class, what I witnessed was a duel far too one-sided to be called a spar between an assistant instructor and a mere cadet.

The assistant instructor, Vincent, collapsed while clutching his blood-soaked arm, and the gray-haired cadet stood tall before him. At that moment, I felt something stir violently in my chest. It was like reuniting with a long-lost love. I didn’t know why that emotion rose inside me, but I couldn’t ignore it. The very next day, I went looking for him, almost as if I had been possessed.

“After watching that fight, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wanted to cross swords with you,” I told him.

Truthfully, that was only half the reason. What I really wanted more than sparring was to talk to him. However, after being thoroughly defeated in our first match, everything changed. I thought that maybe this person could show me how to surpass the wall.

I honestly thought the chance was slim, but my yearning to break through that wall was overwhelming. So, I clung to even the faintest glimmer of hope and began learning from him. Then he said a sentence that changed everything.

“Don’t think about where you want the sword to go, think about where it wants to go.”

When I heard that, it felt like lightning had struck inside my head. Not where I want the sword to go, but where it wants to go?

In simple words, it meant that I shouldn’t force the sword to follow my will, but rather, let my will reside within the sword and let the sword become an extension of my heart. Putting my heart into the sword was a revolutionary idea I had never once considered before.

At that moment, I felt that a hairline crack had finally formed in the immense wall before me. Of course, that one sentence didn’t destroy the wall I had struggled against for the past three years. But I had found a thread and a lead to pull on; it was enough to make my heart nearly burst with joy.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I threw my arms around him before I could stop myself. “Thank you! Really, thank you, Dale.”

“Uh, r-really?” he replied.

The look of confusion on his face snapped me back to reality, and I quickly stepped away. “Ah, s-sorry.”

An awkward silence settled between us, leaving me wondering what the hell I had just done.Nevertheless, it was already done, too late to take it back now.

I tried to change the mood. “U-uh, thank you so much for today! I promise I’ll repay you somehow, no matter what.”

“Repay me? For what? Don’t worry about it,” Dale replied nonchalantly.

“No! I mean it.”

How could I possibly stay silent in front of the person who gave me such profound guidance without asking for anything in return? So, I said, “Wait here for a moment.”

Looking for a way to repay his kindness, I hurried over to the storage chest inside the private training room. It contained a mana enhancement elixir, a gift awarded to the year’s top cadet. To someone like me, whose mana this elixir could no longer increase, it wasn’t particularly useful, but for someone like Dale, who had very little mana, it could be a big help.

“Is this… an elixir?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s not incredibly powerful, but it should help you raise your mana a little,” I replied.

Dale let out a faint laugh as he looked down at the elixir in my hand. “You’re giving me this? Mana enhancement elixirs are super rare.”

“Compared to what you taught me, this is nothing.”

Dale gave a small chuckle. “Well, fine. I guess with your mana level, this kind of elixir wouldn’t make a difference anyway.”

For some reason, the way he said that made it feel like I was trying to repay a priceless favor with something useless. A guilty feeling welled up in my chest, and I said, “O-of course, I didn’t mean this repays everything. Later on, I’ll—”

He didn’t let me finish, saying, “Enough, man. Why are you being so uptight about it? We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Friends?”

“Ah!” Dale’s expression froze for a second. “I mean, yeah. Ahem. If we’ve crossed swords once as fellow swordsmen, that makes us friends, right?”

“Y-yeah. Friends…”

Friends… Friends, huh! Why is it that hearing that word makes something inside me twist with anger? What is this feeling? I wondered.

Whenever I was with Dale, some strange, unexplainable emotion would rise to the surface.

Dale continued, “Anyway, how about this? From now on, we meet every Wednesday and Friday for two hours, and I’ll teach you swordsmanship during that time.”

The unexpected offer made my eyes widen. “You’ll keep teaching me?”

“I mean, come on. You think one quick lesson is enough? You think swordsmanship is that easy, huh?”

“N-no! I just… I’m really grateful.”

Why? Why was he being so kind to me, a stranger? I didn’t even have time to find an answer before Dale turned to leave.

“Well, it’s getting late. I’ll be going,” he said as he walked away.

“Y-yeah.”

The words “Don’t go” rose to my throat before I could stop them, but I held them back at the last moment. Then, I hesitantly said, “Uh, hey.”

“Hm?”

“Can I… add you on my Hero Watch?” I finally asked.

He nodded. “Oh, right. I totally forgot about that.”

He extended his wrist to show me his Hero Watch, and a hologram popped up above mine.

[Would you like to register Dale Han as a contact? (YES / NO)]

I quickly moved my hand and tapped “YES.”

[Dale Han has been successfully registered as a contact.]

“Well, I’ll see you later. It’s Wednesday tomorrow, so I’ll see you again then. I’ll message you about the time.” With that, Dale walked out of the training room.

Left alone, I saved Dale’s contact info and gently ran my fingers over my Hero Watch, picturing his face in my mind—ash-gray hair, like the last smoldering embers after a fire; sharp eyes, tinged with mystery and colored a deep emerald green; a strong, masculine jawline; and a nose that fell perfectly between his brows, subtle but striking. He wasn’t what anyone would call classically handsome, like a man carved from marble, but something about his face was oddly captivating.

Why was it that just thinking of his face made my heart beat like it was broken? Even though we had just parted, I already wanted to see him again. It was not even to learn swordsmanship but just to talk, even if it was about something stupid and meaningless. I wanted to be with him just a bit more and just a little longer.

I hesitantly reached toward his contact info on the Hero Watch. “Should I text him and ask if he wants to grab dinner?”

But after wavering for a few seconds, I pulled my hand back. “I must’ve gone crazy.”

More than anyone, I knew this wasn’t the time to be swayed by personal emotions like these.

Looking down at myself, I muttered, “Time to shower.”

Peeling off my sweat-soaked training uniform, I stepped into the shower. The mirror greeted me with my reflection, blond hair and golden eyes. A young man’s face stared silently back at me.

I slowly raised a hand and pressed it to my left chest. My fingertips brushed against the soul stigmata of the Moon God etched into my skin. A faint sound escaped from between my clenched lips. I let out a deep breath and unfastened the pendant around my neck.

Then, light burst from the pendant, wrapping around my body in a brilliant glow. When the dazzling light that filled the shower room faded, the person reflected in the mirror was not a man, but a woman with moon-silver hair, like strands braided from moonlight.

I gently cupped my now-curved chest and turned on the shower. Warm water cascaded down my body. Clenching my fist, I reminded myself. “Don’t forget…”

It was a vow I had carved into my heart hundreds, no, thousands of times: “I am… Yuren Helios.”

Because eight years ago, on that day, Yurina Helios had died.

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