Zeco walks slowly across a green field in the vast expanse of Gaelvorn—a cemetery.
SHRAK!
The grass grows tall, swaying gently in the wind.
SHRUK!
The area is filled with gravestones arranged unevenly—some tilted, others still standing upright.
SHRAK!
He steps steadily across the field, heading toward two graves lying side by side. His father's grave is on the right, his mother's on the left. Both are simple, bearing only names and dates.
SHRUK!
Zeco stops directly before them. In his hand, he grips his father's sword—the same blade once carried into battle. A mixture of emotions fills his face; disappointment echoes within him. He has stained the history of his father's sword after using it.
Zeco closes his eyes, raising his brows.
"It should not have been like this," he murmurs.
He lowers the sword slowly, then places it atop his father's grave. The blade, wrapped in a fine cloth strap, rests horizontally across the stone.
Zeco draws a slow breath and opens his eyes.
"Forgive me, Father. I have tarnished your legacy, I have ruined your efforts… I deeply regret that someone as foolish as me dared to use your sword," he says.
He stands in silence for a moment, reflecting on his fate, before turning to his mother's grave. He kneels, holding a beautiful flower in his hand, and places it carefully on the gravestone. One hand touches the cold surface of his mother's grave.
"I miss you, Mother…" he says softly. His other hand rests on the cold stone of his father's grave.
Both hands now touch the gravestones of his parents.
"I miss both of you…"
He bites his lip, pressing hard until it breaks and bleeds.
"…very much."
Silence fills the air. Zeco falls into deep reflection.
He withdraws his hands and begins to stand between the gravestones.
He draws a rough breath, lowering his gaze toward his father's grave.
DAK.
"She…" Zeco murmurs, staring intently.
"…defeated me."
DUK.
"The opponent you once defeated with your sword…"
DAK.
"Forgive me," he murmurs.
Footsteps approach from behind, unheard amidst the turmoil in his mind—his resolve at its lowest point.
DUK.
He slightly raises his head, opens his eyes, and furrows his brows.
"How pitiful I am—defeated by the same opponent, with your sword."
The figure stops—right behind him.
"Huft." Zeco exhales deeply, raising his brows again.
The atmosphere falls into silence—
—SLAAAANG!
The figure draws a long, slender blade from its sheath and points it toward him.
"Hmm?" he murmurs, turning slowly.
"HUH…" He freezes, stunned.
"IS THAT—"
WHAAAAAAAAAHMN—
"—YOU?!"
—The figure lunges.
Zeco's expression hardens; his teeth clench.
"ISABELLE?!"
Isabelle leaps briefly into the air—
Zeco turns, his gaze falling upon his father's sword.
He grimaces, pressed from two extremes.
—Isabelle has already drawn her blade before him.
Zeco has no choice.
"DAMN IT!" he shouts.
He reaches—pulling the sword fully from its strap.
Isabelle's blade is already before his face—
—CLAAAAAAAAAAANG!
The two blades collide in midair. Sparks burst between their faces.
CLAAANG—CLIIING—CLAAANG—CLIIING—CLAAANG—CLIIING!
Every direction of attack is continuously blocked.
"What is this?!" Zeco exclaims, gritting his teeth.
CLIIIIING—CLAAAANG—CLIIIIING—CLAAAANG—CLIIIIING—CLAAAANG!
Steel clashes relentlessly. The battle turns fierce immediately, yet Isabelle's superior experience presses Zeco back step by step.
"A second chance for me?!" Zeco continues.
His breathing grows heavy. His arms strain under the sudden combat—an opening appears.
SWAAAAAANG—
A slash swings toward his chest.
—CLAAAAAANGH!
"Or—" Zeco says halfway.
He manages to block, but the pressure continues.
SKHWAAAHMN!
Zeco strikes the blade and pushes it away, creating distance.
His breathing is heavy.
He leaps backward—
—BRAK!
—and lands, inhaling and exhaling, forcing calm upon himself.
His eyes close as he begins to steady himself. Isabelle steps forward.
Zeco raises his brows, frowning.
"—Will you humiliate me again for the second time?!"
DUK!
He draws his sword behind his body, low, at an unusual angle—his stance set.
"And I, who am powerless…" Zeco says.
DAK!
Isabelle pauses briefly.
SKWAAAAAAAAAHSH—
—Zeco bursts forward.
"Ehmp—" he gasps.
—Isabelle also charges, closing the distance instantly.
A powerful slash is swung toward Isabelle's chest.
Her blade is drawn and swung even faster—
SPKHAAAAAAAAHSH—
Isabelle lands her strike first—a long slash tears across Zeco's body.
He cannot evade; he is too late. Blood sprays outward.
Zeco furrows his brows.
"…So this will be the end of my life, then?!" he says.
However—
—Isabelle has already drawn back and prepares another strike.
Zeco grits his teeth.
CLAAANG—CLIIING—CLAAANG—CLIIING—CLAAANG—CLIIING!
All of Isabelle's attacks are fully blocked.
SKLAAAAAAAAHNGN—
Zeco slashes, sparks scattering as Isabelle withdraws and leaps back.
"And this fight will be the redemption of the stain and the damage to its history, yes?!" Zeco adds, staring deeply at her.
His breathing is now extremely heavy.
His body slumps forward, elbows resting on his thighs. His grip loosens, yet the fight is not over.
"I always lose at everything," Zeco murmurs.
SHWAHMN—
Isabelle charges again.
Zeco freezes.
He cannot evade—
—SHKLHAAAAAAHMN!
A full slash strikes across his entire body.
His teeth rattle; blood bursts out.
KRAK.
The ground beneath him cracks as he presses down.
"If this continues—" Zeco says, gasping.
His knees nearly give way.
He clenches his teeth, stopping the blood from spilling out of his mouth.
"—then what is the point of living," he continues, breath held.