Translator: AkazaTL Pr/Ed: Sol IX
***
The Karavan family’s every realm had its own epithet.
The Mana Heart was the Steel Heart.
The Path was the Steel Path, the Line.
The Wings were the Steel Wings.
Most of them were simply given the modifier “Steel.” Because the moment the Steel Blood flowing through the Karavan truly blossomed only began from the realm of Sword Expert.
One of the final realms of the sword. To shine only just before reaching the peak?
Regarding this characteristic of Steel, the people of the era when the Karavan thrived said many things— that their bloodline carried too much risk, that compared to the children of other “Great Houses,” it required absurdly long years, that without Liam Karavan, they would not have survived the Age of War.
All of that had been true. Even within the Karavan, only a few ever reached Sword Expert or higher, and most struggled even to become a Sword Runner. The Steel Blood slowed the growth of the sword. Thus, even in the Age of Steel, people said the Karavan bloodline had some inherent flaw.
Yet there was one thing everyone acknowledged.
If one endured the harsh, agonizing years. If one faced enough trials and still refused to break. If one finally bloomed into “True Steel”—Then there existed nothing greater than the “Karavan.”
The realm in which their greatness revealed itself dramatically was precisely Sword Expert. Until Sword Runner, they were not much different from other swordsmen—often outclassed by the heirs of other Great Houses.
But when they forged the Armor— everything changed.
It wasn’t simply surpassing others. Everything overturned.
A Karavan who forged their Armor didn’t merely take the lead; they became terrifyingly powerful, as if they existed in another world entirely.
Those who lived through the Age of Steel believed such an Armor should never be called something ordinary like “Steel Armor.”
Thus the Armor forged by a Karavan was given one name.
Immortality.
***
The dragon Kaluah thought: ‘Impossible.’
Its heart had been crushed. Its muscles and bones had been torn apart. Because they shared the heart of a young dragon, elemental power had no effect on the Karavan descendant. But even aside from that, humans could never be a match for dragons.
A difference of birth.
‘This is impossible.’
Elements, Dragon Tongue. Countless mysteries. Even if all the terrifying weapons of a dragon were sealed, a human needed at least the realm of Sword Expert just to face one.
That was the minimum requirement to match the fundamental difference in tier.
A dragon’s flesh was mightier than the giants of the northern continent, harder than the Iron Kingdom’s ramparts, and with wings spread, fastest among all seven races.
A perfect body.
‘Why won’t he die?’
Moreover, the dragon Kaluah had acted as a sentinel, gaining vast battle experience. Kaluah was a skilled hunter and watchman, a soldier capable of entering war immediately. And the dragon Kaluah had already killed the Karavan descendant more than a dozen times. But
“……Again.”
Even with his head shattered— even with his body collapsing— the descendant of Karavan rose.
“Again!”
It was as if an invisible chain tightly bound his body and soul together. Watching the human who refused to fall, the dragon Kaluah recalled the High Elves of the Great Forest—those granted eternal life by the World Tree. It felt like witnessing the same immortal flesh.
Even with his heart crushed, he rose moments later to fight again.
Even with his head burst open, he staggered, then lunged again.
Kaluah thought: What in the world could kill that? No—is it even possible to kill it at all?
‘Is this why the ancient dragons feared the Karavan?’
Crunch. Kaluah’s forepaw lunged and gripped the Karavan’s heart. With a boom, the heart burst, and the Karavan spat blood. But the stopped eyes regained their light.
The halted breath returned moments later. He gritted his teeth and swung his sword again, like a creature born solely to fight.
‘……He’s defying the order of nature.’
The dragon Kaluah thought rationally. There was no way such a thing was normally possible.
A forbidden spell? Or magitech? Perhaps some kind of relic.
Whatever it was— all three assumptions had something in common: none could last long.
“……Stop bluffing.”
Kaluah believed in the laws of the world. Believed in the order of nature. Unless one was a Swordmaster, no one could defy it.
The laws of the world were made by the Seven Lords and the Nine Goddesses. No creature on the continent could break those “rules.” Only transcenders existed outside them.
“Your time is almost over—!”
The dragon Kaluah soared high. A moment later, breath poured from its mouth—the dragon’s breath that struck both the spirit world and the middle realm. Where the breath passed, the Karavan stood.
“Hoo.”
Sword in hand, he stood exactly where he had been. His melted body and head had already regained their original form. Seeing that, goosebumps crawled up the dragon Kaluah’s spine.
Steel.
Steel that did not bend even through storms or the collapse of the world.
The Karavan now looked exactly like that.
Like Liam Karavan— whom the ancient dragons had so feared…
‘Impossible.’
The dragon Kaluah flew. A speed surpassing sound.
Crack!
With that, the Karavan’s head burst. It flew upward, then dove. Acrobatic flight.
The dragon Kaluah snatched the rising head with its jaws. Even reduced to only a head, the eyes still shone. Seeing that, Kaluah crunched and chewed it. The skull broke, its contents spilling vividly.
“You cannot keep this up forev—gh.”
Inside the maw, a sharp sting. When Kaluah spat, a blade dropped from its tongue.
A dagger. In that brief moment the Karavan had regenerated from head to body and stabbed it.
‘What…’
The undead ability was so powerful it bordered on the bizarre. But what was stranger still was the Karavan’s mental strength. How could he remain sane—keep fighting—while his body shattered and his head exploded? The humans Kaluah knew could never do that.
Humans were creatures whose hearts stopped from fear before they even hit the ground when falling off a cliff. Humans were creatures who, unable to endure hunger, boiled and ate their own children. Humans were creatures who could not withstand a single day of torture and killed themselves.
Fragile, fearful, lacking courage. Among the seven races, the most pitiful. The most insignificant life. That was what humans were supposed to be. And yet—
“I could do this for the rest of my life.”
How?
“Thanks to you, my head’s finally clearing a bit.”
“…….”
“It’s much better than lying there getting torn apart without doing anything. I’d rather die hundreds, thousands of times alive than be beaten helplessly. This is far better than that day before I ever held a sword.”
The Karavan’s eyes were alive. Unbroken—despite dying over a dozen times.
“Are you… really human?” Dragon Kaluah muttered.
The Karavan spat blood—ptoo—and replied: “I am half-dwarf.”
***
My mind drifted in and out. A dragon fighting seriously was far stronger than I had imagined. Whenever I swung my sword to cut it, it dispersed into elements. No blade could cut fire, water, or air. Because it transformed into a pure element itself, even my Flame of Doubt didn’t work.
It wasn’t some mystic art—it was its innate ability. And once it spread its wings, it became hell. Flying at maximum speed, the dragon became invisible. My body burst apart, and only afterward did I hear the whoosh of wind following behind. It was faster than sound.
Tom’s “lightning” was wrong. A single bolt of lightning would never hit one of these things. Dragons were faster than lightning.
I might go crazy. Instinct screamed.
Telling me to give up. Telling me to run. Telling me to use the permitted thirty seconds to flee. Or, if not, telling me not to endure this pain—just surrender. Telling me that if I died now, everything would become easier, and I should stop tormenting myself.
『You have the right to kill me.』
『I no longer care who kills whom.』
The legend contained in Tom’s sword. The cost of using “Indomitable.” The memories of Tom and Santiago resurfaced vividly.
Those two old souls. Their will tangled with mine. Santiago’s attitude toward life had been pure struggle. Fighting until the very end—he believed that alone proved one’s existence. His values gnawed at me. That dying in battle would complete my struggle. That what mattered was standing and fighting back. That one who fought until death became perfect in that act.
An old fighter who couldn’t defeat even mediocre warriors. His body was worn and weak, but his spirit and soul were immense.
The old man’s will whispered: Through this, you will be completed. Whether you die or not no longer matters.
I even felt awe. Respect, at his firmness. But.
“No.”
I couldn’t agree.
“The process matters, sure. But not like this. If I die like this, I’ll never accept it. I need to see the result I can accept. I need to see the end of my doubt. I need to see the faces of those who stole so much from me, stand before them, and ask.”
To fight until death—fine. To accept death with serenity—fine. I respected his life. But I was different. I would end this revenge. This world that had gone wrong— I would see the end of this world filled with sin. I would find the answer to every one of my doubts. If not— I could never close my eyes. Never.
「That’s it.」
The will of “Indomitable” was firm. His values were solid. But mine were even firmer.
The light the old man carried was bright. But not as hot as mine. What filled my insides wasn’t light, but flame. Not warm brightness that illuminated everything— but a fire that burned everything except me, that reduced to ash anything that could not convince me.
Santiago’s soul was great, but it could not make me accept. And I could never accept what I couldn’t accept. Never.
Why?
「Because that is the final condition to forge the Armor.」
I was right. Everyone else was wrong.
No one could tell me to be satisfied with merely the process of revenge without seeing its end. My life belonged only to me. If they hadn’t lived as I had, they could never break my doubt. Could never extinguish my fury. Fight until death? Fine. But I would never die.
「Stubbornness.」
Until I reached the end of this path— I could not die.
「A stubbornness that bends to nothing.」
No matter what happened.
「What the old caretaker who died with regret and unfinished longing never possessed. What so many Sword Runners fail to bloom—belief in oneself.」
“…….”
「Stubbornness, and at the same time, conviction.」
The moment I thought that— the voice of “Indomitable” echoing in my head vanished.
「Unshakable conviction in oneself.」
“…….”
「The hardest condition to satisfy to advance to Sword Expert. But you fulfilled it long before you ever held a sword.」
The pain consuming my body disappeared.
「To one with unshakable conviction, the Armor is bestowed.」
“…….”
「Unbreakable self-belief takes form.」
My clouded mind cleared.
「All you lacked was sufficient trial.」
When I opened my eyes— I saw the dragon high in the sky. Its pupils trembled violently.
「Congratulations, young descendant.」
Slowly, I raised my sword. Only about five seconds remained of “Indomitable.” Soon, I would pay the price for defying the order of nature. But.
「For stepping into the realm of Immortality.」
Five seconds.
「Now, a dragon is no longer your match.」
And five seconds—was more than enough.