Chapter 446. **Found You, My Love**
—
A magic sword.
A blade that grows stronger by absorbing the life force or mana of the one who wields it.
Powerful yet ominous, a cursed sword that drives its user toward death—such blades were called *magic swords*.
However, not every sword that demanded life force or mana was necessarily a magic sword.
If a sword that kills people were labeled a magic sword, then even the Guardian Holy Sword of the Kingdom of Cernil would have to be one.
In other words—
*The distinction between holy swords and magic swords is often based on outward image.*
Just like the Guardian Holy Sword.
If the founding king of Cernil had not wielded it—if it had not been engraved into the consciousness of the kingdom’s citizens—then the Guardian Holy Sword itself would have been called a magic sword.
*Most swords known as magic swords are simply those that do not easily choose a master.*
Having worked with iron and forged blades, the idea became clearer.
It was a kind of realization.
In the end, a sword changes depending on who holds it.
Whether holy sword or magic sword—if one advances by one’s own will, like the horn of a rhinoceros, the boundary between the two inevitably blurs.
Still, the moment I saw the sword resting in the underground vault, I thought, *magic sword*.
I could understand why Baek was screaming and desperately trying to stop me.
*This is not a forged sword.*
It was not a sword made by someone’s hands.
Isn’t that astonishing?
Every piece of equipment—especially something like a sword—is usually crafted by someone, for some purpose.
But here, I saw no such intention or design.
Rather—
*The rune itself evolved into the shape of a sword.*
That was why it was a magic sword.
Why would a rune evolve specifically into the form of a sword?
This was not a blade forcibly manufactured with runes embedded into it. From its very birth, the rune itself had evolved into a sword.
To crave blood.
To take life.
A predator that evolved for that purpose alone.
*Beeeeeeep!*
The instant I grasped the magic sword, Baek hurriedly pressed a button hidden in his clothes.
Then—
*Boom!*
*Ruuuumble!*
The doors shut.
Not only the underground vault, but every massive gate above it closed as well.
“What are you doing?”
“Our god warned us. He told us to be most wary of anyone who could wield that sword! It is a beast of ruin…!”
A beast of ruin.
Well, anyone capable of wielding such a sword could hardly be normal.
In fact, the moment I held the magic sword—
—*Kill them all! Cut them down! Slice them apart! I’m thirsty! Blood! Flesh! Runes!*—
It was madness beyond madness.
Anyone ordinary would turn into a murderous fiend the instant they touched it.
No—its aura was so ominous that most wouldn’t even dare think of holding it.
That only made it more intriguing, especially since it was a sword the abducted god of blacksmiths had warned them about so vehemently.
And besides—
Why was such a sword here, in the underground vault?
“I found it strange from the moment I first saw the dwarves.”
*Tap. Tap.*
I lightly tapped my shoulder with the magic sword.
No matter how wildly it raved, it couldn’t disturb my mind.
My sense of self had already grown far too massive for that.
External intrusion had become virtually impossible.
“From the perspective of this world’s knights, aren’t *you* dwarves the invaders?”
“Just as I thought… you’ve been devoured by the sword’s evil spirit!”
“I’m saying you can’t divide things so simply into good and evil. Just like the boundary between holy swords and magic swords—it’s merely a name that changes depending on who wields it.”
By now, Baek was gripping a massive black halberd.
A menacing axe larger than his own body.
“What are you trying to say? They massacred us. They devoured us. And as if that weren’t enough, they abducted our god!”
“When I killed Alchaka, I felt something. Fear of the unknown. That emotion was probably directed at *you*.”
At first, I hesitated over whether to step in.
But I couldn’t allow a massacre to continue.
“That’s how they’ve always lived. Killing, eating, evolving. Isn’t it strange to call that wrong? Or did you think the place you fled to would be a paradise?”
In the end, these dwarves were a race that fled from Destruction.
When Pangaenia was being destroyed, they erased their own traces and escaped in desperation.
Above all—
They even hid the *altar* connected to Pangaenia within the Primordial Forest.
In the elves’ forest.
They likely believed that the elves, together with the World Tree, would naturally protect the altar.
That had been bothering me all along.
Seeing the magic sword sealed in the vault made it even clearer.
“And you modeled other ‘evolving weapons’ after this one.”
“……”
Every weapon in this vault.
All of them were copies created with this magic sword as the prototype.
Then whose sword was this, originally?
“Baek. Who is the owner of this sword?”
“……I can’t tell you.”
“Did you steal it?”
“We didn’t steal it—”
“Then why did you take it and provoke them?”
“We didn’t steal it—!”
*Slash.*
I swung the magic sword once.
At the same time—
“……!!!”
*Slice!*
*Boom!*
The impossibly thick door was cut clean through in a single stroke.
It felt less like wielding a sword, and more like handling a living creature.
—*Escape!*
The magic sword was ecstatic.
Leaving this pitch-dark place, seeing the outside world again.
The thought of tasting blood and flesh once more thrilled it.
I’d never seen something so purely instinctual.
But the most astonishing thing was—
*It is unaffected by the influence of the End.*
This magic sword was completely unaffected by countless forms of *darkness*, including another Destruction—*the End*.
Which meant it, too, was an existence like *Primordial Darkness*.
A god that had reigned as darkness since unimaginably ancient times.
Yes.
This sword was the *god* of certain beings.
Whose god it was, was obvious.
“This sword is *their* god. You abducted their god, so in return, they abducted yours.”
Only now did the full picture come together.
Why this endless war had come to be.
“Captain Baek! Are you all right?!”
“Surrender! Lay down your arms and we’ll spare your lives!”
Hearing the voices from outside, I shrugged.
Dwarves wearing Gigants were guarding the door.
“…So you really aren’t being controlled by the sword’s evil spirit?”
Baek asked, his expression calm.
Probably because I looked nothing like a blood-hungry fiend.
“It’s the opposite. I’m controlling the sword.”
—*W-what?! Stop! Evil—!*
*Ssssss.*
The End revealed itself slightly.
That alone was enough to calm the magic sword, which had been trembling in excitement.
It quieted down—but remained defiant.
The moment it found an opening, it would bare its desires again.
*So one of the presences I felt at the altar was this sword.*
Not only that.
This magic sword was the *first* sword.
A rune that became a sword on its own.
Because everything about it was the first, it became *their* god.
In a word—
*Primordial.*
An existence with primordial potential.
*
*
A hair-trigger situation.
Fortunately, thanks to Baek’s restraint, no battle broke out.
After all, he was the one who had made the promise—and the one who had triggered the alarm.
“…You want to learn our techniques?”
Perhaps realizing his mistake.
He was still curt, but—
“I’ll teach you myself. I am the greatest *Black Smith*.”
Among the dwarves, the most honorable title was *Black Smith*.
Among all the surviving dwarves, Baek was the most outstanding Black Smith.
From that day on, Baek began passing his techniques on to me.
How to embed runes into a blade.
How to choose appropriate combinations based on rune types, and how to read runes themselves.
“And… I’ll say this because you seem to misunderstand something. We didn’t provoke them first. At the beginning, we tried to coexist peacefully.”
As he taught me, Baek gradually explained why the dwarves had ended up like this.
“We dwarves were originally a peaceful race. We tried to coexist by making what the knights needed, living the way we always had.”
“Then why did war break out?”
“They tried to devour us—to steal our techniques. At first, they acknowledged each other’s needs. But as time passed, they grew greedy for dwarven craftsmanship.”
“So instead of coexistence, they decided it was easier to eat you and improve their own skills?”
“That seems to be how they thought.”
“Do dwarves leave runes when they die?”
“All life in this world leaves behind a rune when it dies. You wouldn’t be an exception.”
A rune would appear from me as well?
That was… interesting.
I’d never felt anything like a rune forming within me.
*A world where life itself becomes a rune.*
The rules of this world were fundamentally different.
In any case, Baek continued.
“At first, they secretly abducted dwarves. After evolving enough to gain some craftsmanship, they began openly pressuring us. Our god took that sword because he believed dwarves couldn’t stop the one who wielded it.”
That wasn’t a lie.
Baek spoke with conviction.
I looked at the magic sword and asked,
“Who can wield this sword?”
“The three Kings.”
I see.
The absolute beings strong enough to forcibly close the gates.
If even they could wield this sword, they might be stronger than I’d assumed.
After a moment of thought, I asked,
“Can runes be embedded into a sword that’s already complete?”
“As far as I know, it’s impossible unless the runes are incorporated during the forging.”
Meaning the rune must be refined into the form of a sword from the very beginning.
Still, it was a shame.
*Final Winter* and *Endurance*—
If I could embed runes into them, they could be reborn at an even higher grade.
*Shing.*
I took out Winter and Endurance and placed them on the floor beside the magic sword.
“…I can tell at a glance. These are incredible swords. Beyond what I could ever make… who forged them?”
Baek stared at the two blades in awe.
They weren’t forged so much as *assembled*—created through combination.
Supreme Unique grade.
In truth, aside from Primordial and Unranked, they were probably the highest grade possible…
But what I wanted lay beyond that.
Ignoring Baek’s words, I quietly examined the three swords.
…What would happen if I fed Winter and Endurance to this magic sword?
Would it complete into a *Primordial* grade?
—*Found you! My love!*
That was when it happened.
Suddenly, the magic sword began raving again.
Its focus was squarely on *Winter*.
The sensation felt strangely familiar.
As if I’d experienced something like this before.
*When I made my companion sword.*
Never in my life had I imagined I’d be creating a sword from a sword’s point of view.
An unprecedented experience.
Was this how the Guardian Holy Sword had felt when it found its other half?
Come to think of it—why had the Guardian Holy Sword been searching for its counterpart in the first place?
*It must be because of this thing.*
Every evolving sword created here was based on this magic sword.
Naturally, the Guardian Holy Sword’s almost lecherous tendencies likely originated from this one.
No—not just the Guardian Holy Sword.
All evolving swords might be the same.
A blade evolved from runes, the beloved of life itself.
This magic sword could be considered a living being in its own right.
And it wasn’t strange for a sentient life-form to seek love.
However—
—*Come to me, my love!*
I stared at the magic sword with a dumbfounded expression.
