1.
There was no such thing as a specific place you need to live comfortably. And to not hesitate to ask what you don’t know.
They were the village chief’s words. He nodded his head in a manner that was neither cold nor warm.
Considering the treatment I have been receiving over the past 3 years this was more than enough.
No one treated me warmly the man who was the target of the clown.
“… those who live in such remote areas won’t mind me.”
A few kids would look at me from a distance. But I wouldn’t care.
Upon entering an abandoned house I unpacked and picked up my sword.
Three years ago this would have been overwhelming to bear but not now.
Wheik!
Wheik!
Swing swing and swing again.
I would keep swinging until I could release a stronger attack; Until I could slay the demons of the south.
Until then I won’t leave this place.
With burning resolve the swinging of the sword continued.
2.
A month passed.
Nothing changed I continued to swing my sword and the town was peaceful.
The only change was the disappearance of the kids who would stick their heads over the wall.
Maybe I was sad that my swordsmanship skill didn’t change but at least I didn’t degrade.
Another day passed.
3.
Two months have passed.
I still wield my sword. There was nothing that changed enough for me to go out.
Thanks to the money I gave to the chief while moving in the necessities for my life were being provided to me.
All I had to do was swing my sword.
Swik!
A diagonal slash.
Wheik!
A Vertical slash.
It was embarrassing to even call it swordsmanship; it was just a simple repetitive action.
I couldn’t help it. The rumors about me had already spread. Most swordsmen didn’t want to anger the clown demon and refused to teach me swordsmanship.
But it was fine.
Actually it wasn’t.
But it didn’t matter. I have now become a body that cannot live without wielding or swinging the sword.
Breathing out the hot pain in my body I swung the sword again.
Wheik!
And with that the illusion of the people who drove me out of my estate shattered.
4.
Six months have passed.
I still swing the sword and the townspeople no longer care about me.
Except for the man who was watching me a few days ago.
It didn’t matter. Rather I felt that I was fortunate.
As I watched the twilight approaching I applied a lot of strength to my hand that was holding the great sword.
After a while many people appeared from the darkness.
They all wore clown masks.
They started pointing their fingers at me.
Filthy bastards who were ordered by the devil!
If I make a fuss then everyone will be in danger!
My sword… I couldn’t let the devil know. I am sorry.
Just leave me alone. Did they think I am the Lord anymore?
I swung my sword at the ones which kept coming up.
Their heads were split and limbs were torn off but they said nothing.
The eyes behind the masks were disgusting.
I was exhausted and constantly moved my sword without failing and then morning came.
“Pant pant pant…”
I didn’t know.
Whether this the work of the clown devil or someone else?
Either way it was clear that I was slowly going crazy.
Nevertheless I laughed. I was able to laugh after a long time.
My anger towards the people of my province who abandoned me.
Towards the swordsmen who turned me away.
And my hatred for the devil and the world.
A new fuel helped me.
Whik!
Wheik!
Wheik!
I swung my sword until I collapsed from exhaustion.
Without realizing the passage of time I continued.
5.
Years have passed. I don’t know exactly how much time has passed. I couldn’t figure it out even if I tried.
There was something more important than that. My swordsmanship had changed.
Although it was the same as before just vertical cuts diagonal cuts and horizontal cuts.
The illusions that didn’t fall even after being hit three to four times before now disappeared at once.
Satisfied I kept swinging my sword.
Swish!
I cut off the head of the vassal who threw me away.
Slash!
The head of the woman who pointed her fingers at me.
The body of the hunter who didn’t listen to me and the waist of the swordsman who didn’t want to teach me. I cut them all.
I never thought that I’d be able to catch the clown. And I knew that from the beginning.
Such a thing would be impossible. I couldn’t do something which even the heroes of the continent couldn’t.
Yet I laughed and smiled.
Yet another clown went down with a slash of my sword. And my gaze went for the face.
Who was it this time?
Was it the old man who pointed at me for thinking about my family?
Or the knight who looked at me with a cold expression?
As the figure came forward the mask broke. And as I saw the face that came with it. I dropped the sword for the first time since I came to the village.
And I couldn’t move for a long time.
-surprised?
I was surprised.
Ugh you don’t have to look at me this way.
Another me was standing in front of me ridiculing me.
Listening to the laughter-filled voice there was one thing I could do.
Crack!
My other self’s head shattered at the attack.
6.
Time passed.
No years passed. I don’t even know how many. A while after using the sword I wasn’t in the mood to count the years.
I just fought the endless stream of clowns that came after me as well as the apparition of myself both of which kept increasing.
It was overwhelming just to deal with them.
So I just swung my sword every day.
Wong!
Woong!
Woong!
Five to six clowns shattered at once and ten more illusions fell with two slashes.
Yet there was no end. The clowns just continued to appear.
Their appearances were no longer separated with a distinction between day and night.
They appeared whenever there was twilight and shadows. Wherever there was darkness the illusions bloomed and they started ridiculing me.
Not being allowed to rest and feeling the unbearable anger I swung my sword without a break.
It was then.
“Isn’t that hard?”
A clear voice rang out from between the countless clowns. My gaze reflexively turned to the sound.
A youthful face with pure eyes.
It was a child who was looking at me with an innocent face and a flower in his hand a face that had no mask.
“For you.”
“…”
The child didn’t stay for long.
A woman ran in a hurry and grabbed the child.
As if she was afraid to make contact with me she looked to the ground and bowed her head before disappearing.
And the door to her house shut tight as soon as they entered it and I was back to being alone.
But strangely I didn’t feel alone even after they left.
“…”
I stared at the side where the child disappeared to and then lowered my sight to look at the flower she left.
The fresh scent was there and the eyes of the child appeared in my mind.
Something felt familiar.
I thought about it for a long time about when in the past I felt similar emotions? And when nothing came to mind I picked up the sword again.
It was the first time such a thing had happened.
I didn’t like it but I was holding a sword. It was a look that didn’t suit me a crazed man living with a sword for more than 10 years.
Of course contrary to my thoughts my body moved. And soon I took the pose that was ready to face the illusions.
“…”
However they no longer came.
… and after a long time I devoted myself to the sword with a sane mind.
7.
Years have passed.
It was much longer than the time it took to leave the estate and enter this village.
I swung my sword incessantly in the years which seemed like maybe even 10 or 20 years.
But I wasn’t lonely.
The number of times the illusions came dropped but they still sometimes came out at twilight and continued to mock me.
The clown mask which constantly gave me drive no matter how bad it was even if he was broken or cut didn’t give me inspiration anymore.
Right.
The reason I wasn’t lonely wasn’t because of the illusions.
It wasn’t because of the coldness of the world which was pouring down on me.
And it wasn’t because of the hatred I had for the world.
I removed my gaze away from the clown and closed my eyes.
One by one I remembered what I had forgotten.
Wong!
The expressions of my parents who died of illness when I was young.
Woong!
The warm face of my wife who cared for me with love.
Woong!
My lovely son who was born 2 years after our marriage and the pure eyes he had.
My mind which was filled with negative emotions gradually regained its place as I recalled the gazes similar to the child who gave me a flower.
“Phew”
I opened my eyes.
And the situation stayed.
Countless illusions and countless humans who corroded my life were speaking from their masks.
But it was fine.
I took a deep breath and exhaled.
As I breathed the cold air I felt my heart and head clear.
I moved slowly and steadily into the darkness which was ridiculing me.
Fucking bastards. Why use the faces of people who did nothing wrong?
I heard the sound of my old self who had his eyes over me.
But I passed by without cutting him.
An odd guy. Was it our fault his wife and son died? Although I was indecisive I wanted to save at least one of them.
Another voice of mine was heard.
The whole time I passed without swinging my sword.
An incomparable number of illusions stood in my way.
Eyes of clowns stained in anger and hatred.
I ignored all of it and kept a steady pace.
With each step I felt the poison in my body fly away. I gained freedom from my old obsession.
-…
And as I traveled through the darkness the last place I reached at the end was an ugly place where human bones and flesh were spread around like carpet.
Someone was standing in the middle. This time it was the clown.
And this time I just didn’t want to pass by it.
My voice which had been silent for a long time reached its ear.
“It is not the south but I came.”
How…!
The voice of the clown devil was flustered and angry.
I laughed bitterly. Behind the mask I could see that the expression was distorted.
When I let go of the malice and obsession I had against this world neither the mask nor the darkness around could work on me.
The clown was something I didn’t want to see.
I slashed the clown devil’s body as I swung my sword like lightning.
And at that moment like a crystal formed after decades it erupted into a silver-grey ray of light.
Woong!
Kuaaack!
A deafening scream.
The clown’s counterattack collapsed and his body which was supposed to be as hard as iron was damaged.
Behind the half-broken mask the terrible-looking face of the clown distorted even more.
It had eyes similar to the hatred I had for this world.
But the devil didn’t attack.
Rather in fear it went further into darkness and kept its distance.
I nodded and stepped forward with the beam of light refined like the steel in my hand ready to stop it. No it was something that I was trying to do.
“…”
But I couldn’t.
I thought I was good. That my sword was brilliant strong and flawless and my heart was strong and free from long wanderings.
A strong sense of confidence filled my heart as if I could overcome even the greatest devil out there.
However my body the body which had to deal with the devil couldn’t keep up.
My gaze turned to the blade of the sword.
Seeing my face with deep wrinkles I knelt down in regret.
Grab!
Relying on the sword I stared at the darkness where the clown disappeared.
Not out of hate.
It wasn’t because I was sad for the world.
It was because of the something that corrected me who was stupid and engulfed in hatred hoping to cause enormous damage to the world and the clown.
‘Mine wasn’t a sword forged out of hatred and anger…’
But rather it was pure will contained in the flower that the child gave me.
The regret that I realized it so late was filling me.
“Huhu hic hic….”
I felt like life was running out.
It was hard to breathe and hard to think. And I was sad.
Although my body was insignificant I wanted to convey what I had learned to someone.
So that people who become like me wouldn’t walk down the wrong path.
Knowing that I couldn’t I prayed that my wish would reach someone.
‘Even if it is in vain…’
It didn’t matter if it was relayed as the last screams of a dying old man.
If somehow my present heart and mind could be conveyed to someone.
If only I could…
…
…
…
“…”
Irene opened his eyes.
Not just him. Everyone seemed to have woken up and were just looking somewhere blankly.
Judith had her head bowed down and was crying.
Lulu Bratt Lloyd Ilya Lindsay and Kuvar were just sitting there absently.
Irene looking at his precious friends got up and walked out of the tent.
Gorha still hadn’t left his seat outside the tent and Karakum looked at him.
And jumped up.
“…”
“…”
Irene and Karakum looked at each other without saying a word.
Seeing that Gorha was bewildered.
Irene Pareira who had been looking at his opponent for a long time said
“I would like a match.”
