"The inscription... of the First Sword Saint... Claudia Silverstone."
Lilya repeated the name slowly, feeling a strange vibration travel from her fingertips as she touched the surface of the ancient stone.
There was no one who didn't know the legendary figure from 1,500 years ago.
An era when chaos from the war between humans and demons still raged on.
An era when swords spoke louder than words.
An era when death was the most common thing one could encounter.
Claudia Silverstone.
Her name was carved into the stone walls of old cities. Sung in the verses of court poets. Remembered as the heroine who saved thousands of lives in the Final Battle against the Demon King.
But—
based on Hikaru's memories from the ERO event, Claudia was not a noble. Not a princess. Not a descendant of brave heroes.
She was merely—
a village girl.
A village girl who disliked violence.
A village girl who disliked death.
A village girl who only wanted to live in peace.
Lilya let out a soft sigh.
In Hikaru's memories of the Sword Saint Legacy event, there was one scene that always stood out clearly. Not the epic battle against the Demon King. Not the moment Claudia swung her final sword of light.
But the scene before all of that happened.
Claudia was born in a remote village.
Surrounded by a forest full of monsters.
But that village—somehow—was always safe.
Perhaps because of its hidden location.
Perhaps because the monsters weren't interested in a small, insignificant village.
Or perhaps—because they weren't hungry yet.
Lilya could imagine Claudia's life in that village.
A simple life.
Full of color.
Full of joy.
In the morning, she helped her mother draw water from the well. In the afternoon, she played with other children in the wheat fields that swayed gently in the wind. At night, she listened to stories from the village elders—stories about the distant outside world, about great cities, about brave knights and terrifying monsters.
Stories that Claudia never thought she would experience.
She never imagined that the world beyond her village could be so cruel.
She never imagined that one day—she would watch it all be destroyed.
Until the middle of the full moon—
Claudia's world changed.
She still remembered that night.
A bright full moon, illuminating every corner of the silent village.
Suddenly, a rumbling sound began to echo from the distance.
Then screams.
Many screams.
The nameless village was attacked by monsters.
Not one or two.
Not forest wolves or ordinary bears.
But a horde of monsters emerging from the forest—with glowing red eyes, with claws and fangs ready to tear flesh apart.
Claudia saw everything.
She saw her neighbor—the old man who always gave her bread—crushed by a massive creature she didn't recognize.
She saw mothers running with their children—some stumbling, falling, and never getting up again.
She saw the village men trying to fight back—with wooden axes, with farming sickles—against creatures whose bodies were far larger than theirs.
Claudia saw a mother still holding her child in the middle of a rain of blood and claws.
The child screamed.
The mother held on tightly—refusing to let go.
But the creature didn't care.
One slash. Two slashes. And it was all over.
Blood flowed across the ground.
The smell of iron filled the air.
The smell of torn flesh.
The smell of something she had never imagined before.
Claudia didn't remember when she was pushed into a small hole behind a garbage bin.
But she remembered her parents' voices.
Hide quickly and wait for us.
We'll come back for you soon.
And she waited.
She waited.
And waited.
But they never returned.
Lilya felt her chest tighten.
She didn't know if it was her own feelings—or the remnants of Hikaru's emotions, having witnessed this scene on a game screen—or perhaps the touch of the inscription still holding Claudia's memories.
But she felt it.
She felt as though she were inside that small hole behind the garbage bin.
Surrounded by the stench of rotting trash and the smell of blood seeping in from outside.
She heard the screams.
Many screams.
Then gradually—fewer.
Until finally—silence.
Stillness.
Claudia didn't dare to come out.
Didn't dare to look.
Didn't dare to open her eyes.
She just sat inside that hole—for hours, perhaps longer—until finally she forced herself to look.
And what she saw—
was a village that had become a sea of corpses.
Faces she recognized.
Faces that had once smiled at her.
Some were still intact.
Some were not.
And among them—her parents were nowhere to be found.
No trace of her mother's smile.
No trace of her father's laughter.
Only silence.
And blood.
And a fear that would never fade.
Lilya swallowed.
Her fingers still pressed against the inscription.
She couldn't let go.
Because behind those words—she could feel Claudia.
Not a legend.
Not a hero.
But a village girl who had lost everything.
"...Claudia..."
Lilya's whisper was barely audible.
"You... witnessed all of that, didn't you?"
There was no answer.
Only the night wind blowing.
And the inscription—which had stood for 1,500 years—remained silent.
But Lilya understood now.
Why Claudia became a Sword Saint.
Why she chose the sword.
Why she fought against the Demon King, against demons, against everything that threatened peace.
Not because she wanted power.
Not because she wanted fame.
Not because she wanted revenge.
But because—
she didn't want anyone else to feel what she had felt that night.
Lilya bit her lip.
Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.
She didn't cry.
Not yet.
But she felt that sorrow.
A sorrow that had endured for 1,500 years.
A sorrow still lingering on this inscription.
A sorrow that now—
merged with her own resolve.
Lilya took a deep breath.
She stepped closer to the inscription—closer than before, until her knees nearly touched the ground beneath the ancient stone that had stood for 1,500 years. Her hands moved slowly, brushing aside the wild grass growing around the base of the inscription, then wiping away the thick moss covering its surface. Green flakes fell away, leaving damp traces on her fingers, and beneath them—the engravings made by someone from the distant past were clearly visible. Whether Claudia herself had carved them, or a stonemason she had commissioned.
Lilya bent down and read.
"If you have found this inscription, it means you are the one I have been waiting for."
Her heart beat faster.
"You may have heard my name from someone. I am the Sword Saint, Claudia Silverstone."
Lilya swallowed.
"I do not know who you are. I do not know your past. But I am certain—you are my successor."
"You may come tomorrow after I carve this inscription. Perhaps in a few weeks. Perhaps in dozens of years. Perhaps in hundreds of years. Perhaps even thousands of years."
A cold chill ran down Lilya's spine. Claudia had written this for her—without knowing when she would come. But she believed that someday, someone would stand here, reading her words.
"You must be wondering why the village of Eldwyn is surrounded by a monster-filled forest yet has never been attacked, right?"
Lilya nodded slightly, even though no one was watching.
"The answer is simple—but not easy."
"I built three layers of protection for this village."
"The first layer—I made a pact with the forest spirits and the monsters within. Not through violence. Not through threats. But through mutual understanding. I promised them—as long as humans did not venture too deep into the forest, they would not attack. And in return, they would maintain the forest's balance."
"But that pact only holds if the spirits and monsters remain sane. And the darkness I defeated before—never truly died. It only waited. If you are reading this, and you see the forest guardians in a contaminated state—then you are on the right path."
Lilya bit her lip.
She had already seen it.
The Elder Treant. The other Treants. They were all contaminated.
And she had ended them—as Claudia had asked.
"The second layer—I left behind protective bracelets for the villagers. Not mere accessories. But concealment magic that makes it difficult for monsters to detect human presence."
"Those bracelets are made from a mixture of my blood and ancient spells taught by Silva Veldrin—my close friend, a water mage of the royal rank, and an ancestor of the family you know. As long as the villagers wear them, they will appear as part of the forest itself—drawing no attention, inviting no attacks."
"But the bracelets are only effective near the village and the herbal paths. If someone ventures too deep into the forest—the protection begins to weaken."
Lilya remembered Cecilia.
Remembered how Cecilia had gone too far—likely searching for her.
Why the protective bracelet hadn't been enough to protect her.
"And the third layer—"
"I created seven stone golems. One for myself. One for each of my six companions. They are extensions of our hands, the final guardians that will protect the village if the first two layers fail."
"Those golems will sleep beneath the village soil. Motionless. Breathless. Merely waiting."
"And they will only awaken if the ancient song I left behind is sung—by the village maidens, passed down from mouth to mouth, from generation to generation."
Lilya froze.
A song.
Village maidens.
From mouth to mouth.
From generation to generation.
"...Shooting Star..."
Her whisper was barely audible.
The song she had learned and memorized as part of Eldwyn's tradition.
"You may have heard it. Shooting Star. That is its name."
"It is not merely a song. But a key. The key to awakening the golems when the village is in danger."
"I wrote it in a language unknown to anyone in this world—except those I taught. The first elders of Eldwyn memorized it and passed it down to their children, and so on."
"They do not understand the meaning of the words. But they know—if one day they sing it, the village will be saved."
Lilya smiled softly. "Claudia... you really thought of everything, didn't you?" she murmured.
She continued reading.
"The village of Eldwyn did not have a name at first."
"It was built from the ruins of my own village."
"Together with my comrades, we rebuilt it. They entrusted me with naming the village built from the ashes—from the fire that destroyed my home."
"Eldwyn."
"Eld means fire. Wyn means hope."
"Eldwyn means hope born from the burning flame."
"It's a beautiful name, isn't it? It was suggested by one of my close friends, Silvaria Veldrin."
Lilya paused.
Silvaria Veldrin.
The name felt warm in her mind.
"Silvaria was a water mage of royal rank, the strongest of her generation. She was gentle, caring toward everyone. But when she got angry—she was quite frightening, you know!"
Lilya smiled faintly.
For some reason, she felt that Silvaria's nature was very similar to Cecilia's.
The way Cecilia cared for others with such attentiveness.
The way Cecilia protected those she loved.
The way Cecilia was gentle—but could be terrifying when angered.
And Silvaria's family name—Veldrin—confirmed that her blood flowed through Cecilia. Through the entire Veldrin family in this world.
Lilya had only just learned this now.
No one had ever told her.
It turned out Cecilia's ancestor—was a close friend of the first Sword Saint.
"...Cecilia..." she whispered softly, "...you must have known, didn't you?"
She let out a breath.
Then continued reading.
"And finally, allow me to share a prophecy from the village elders of a thousand years ago."
"Someday, whether tomorrow, the day after, or a thousand years from now—a being of darkness will appear and throw the world into chaos once more. And at that time, a baby girl will be born, bearing a face identical to yours—who will once again defeat that darkness."
Lilya froze.
A face identical to hers?
"You know? I am absolutely certain that you are the baby spoken of in that prophecy."