Lucifel, the Sword
By sacrificing his remaining life, the man turned Lucifel into a sword.
"Let’s et again, Lucifel."
"I’ll wait for you."
Lucifel murmured these words as she rembered their final promise.
“…For however long it takes.”
And so began her indefinite wait.
Five years passed—a considerable length of ti, yet not unbearable for soone like Lucifel, who had already lived more than twenty years without any aning or purpose. Now, she had a clear reason: to reunite with him. This gave her patience.
“When we et again, I wonder what you’ll look like. Hehe.”
Lucifel spent the ti reminiscing about her mories with him, eagerly awaiting the day they would be reunited.
Fifty years passed.
A ti nearing double the span of her life before her wait began.
“…You’re a little late.”
Though Lucifel had sworn to wait for as long as it took, she found herself slowly growing weary. Whenever that weariness surfaced, she desperately clung to the mories of him, now worn from constant recollection, and rekindled her feelings for the man buried deep in her heart.
She carefully stored those feelings away again, so they wouldn’t erode over ti.
Lucifel waited, huddled protectively over those precious mories, determined to endure.
Five hundred years passed.
Even after five centuries, Lucifel’s body, as a powerful witch, remained untouched by age or decay. But ti had taken its toll on everything except her physical form.
“…Haa.”
Lucifel sighed softly as she, once again, chanically flipped through the pages of her mories.
The feelings that once filled her heart with such longing and love no longer stirred her.
Or rather, she could no longer feel them.
At so point, it simply happened.
“…I can’t even cry anymore.”
When she first realized that her emotions were fading, she wept bitterly out of fear that sothing she thought eternal might not last.
But the overwhelming passage of ti, which even dulled eternal feelings, eventually dried up those tears as well.
Now, Lucifel rely stared into her heart with dry eyes.
It wasn’t empty.
The emotions she once held dear were still there, but they had changed.
Once love and longing, they had been eroded by five centuries, so altered that she could no longer recognize their original form.
They had beco sothing unnaable.
“…It doesn’t matter.”
So, even though she couldn’t recall what her initial feelings had been or whether she would feel the sa joy if they were to et again, she still waited for him.
‘I promised, didn’t I? I’d teach you the sword if you could slice through the rock. But if you left, I wouldn’t be able to keep that promise. I’m not the kind of person who breaks promises.’
She had made a promise to him.
And he was a man who always kept his word.
“…If you co, I will wait. However long it takes.”
Even though her emotions had dulled, her certainty remained.
With that certainty, Lucifel continued to wait.
She waited for so long that she lost track of how much ti had passed.
“…What’s this?”
Lucifel, who had been in a state of stillness, her eyes closed as if dead, suddenly felt a strange sensation and opened her eyes.
It was as if her soul had connected with another.
Sensing this, Lucifel muttered softly,
“…You’re far too late.”
And then she heard a voice, “Who’s there?” followed by a strong, inexplicable pull that led her to appear before a boy.
A young boy, seemingly not yet ten years old by human standards, stood before her, staring in awe with innocent eyes.
The mont she saw him, Lucifel knew.
This boy was undoubtedly the one she had been waiting for all this ti.
And at the sa ti,
‘…I see.’
Lucifel realized that the boy was not the sa as the man she once knew.
She t the boy’s curious and fearful gaze, eyes that showed no recognition of her.
The soul inside this young body was unmistakably his, yet reincarnation had wiped away all traces of his past life.
The promise they had made that day—only she rembered it.
Lucifel felt a deep sense of despair and sorrow at this cruel reality.
‘…I’m the only one who rembers, it seems.’
But she didn’t feel the overwhelming sadness she once might have.
In the centuries she had waited, she had imagined this outco countless tis.
She had prepared her heart for this possibility, repeating the process of acceptance a thousand, perhaps a million tis.
The five hundred years of waiting had been a trial of endurance, and through it, Lucifel had been forced to temper her emotions.
Now, with the composure of an enlightened sage, she calmly accepted the situation.
There was no despondency, no resignation, as Lucifel gazed at the boy.
‘…He doesn’t resemble him at all, does he?’
Lucifel’s eyes held a faint smile as she looked at the boy.
Though the soul within him was undoubtedly his, the boy bore no resemblance to the man she had known.
Despite his young age, his delicate appearance was the type that would surely break many hearts. His mysterious abilities, which had summoned her, and his latent martial talent—it was as if he had been blessed by the sword itself.
He was entirely different from the plain and talentless man she had once loved.
If this boy had looked exactly like the man, she might have felt resentnt or betrayal. But because he was so different, Lucifel could look at him with fondness.
So, she spoke to the boy who had summoned her.
[“Boy, you’ve got an interesting ability. I’m in a good mood, so I’ll grant you a wish. I can give you great power, imnse wealth. Whatever you want, I’ll make it yours. Now, tell , what do you wish for?”]
If the boy wanted wealth, she would give him the spoils from her past conquests.
If he wanted power, she would teach him the way of the sword.
Whatever he desired, Lucifel would grant it.
This was her way of repaying the one who, in so form, had ended her long wait.
Even though she couldn’t fulfill her promise to beco his sword in the next life, this was enough to consider her debt paid.
Or so she thought, until the boy made his request.
“Can you… be my family?”
Family?
‘…Family.’
That one word stirred a torrent of emotions within Lucifel.
Emotions she thought had long dried up—joy, sorrow, longing, love.
All of them rushed back at the ntion of family.
‘…How ironic.’
How cruelly ironic.
Once, she had wanted that more than anything, yet it had never co to pass.
She had even wished to beco his sword, just to be part of his life in so way.
And now, centuries later…
Lucifel looked at the boy with eyes full of emotion.
She didn’t know whether he was aware of what he was asking.
She didn’t know what fate had in store for her.
But she knew one thing for sure.
[“…Interesting. That’s not the answer I expected.”]
She couldn’t refuse his request.
[“I spoke, and I cannot take back my words. I will grant your wish.”]
Suppressing the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, Lucifel spoke to the boy.
[“Let’s make a contract. I don’t know what kind of family you’re asking for, but I will stay by your side until the day you no longer need . Does that sound alright to you?”]
Yes, simply being by his side would be enough.
If he wanted her to be his family, she would stay with him until he no longer needed her.
With a complex mix of emotions, Lucifel spoke, and the boy smiled innocently and answered,
“Yes. And my na isn’t ‘boy,’ it’s Yoon Si-woo.”
Yoon Si-woo.
That’s your na in this life.
Lucifel rolled the na around her mouth for a mont before addressing him.
[“I see, Si-woo. I am… the Holy Sword of Humility. If you want a contract, take hold of .”]
Do you know?
Even when I was the strongest in the world, known by all, there was only one person who knew my true na.
Only you.
That’s why, when I wasn’t by your side, I was the Witch of Pride.
If the opposite of pride is humility, then it fits.
Lucifel called herself the Holy Sword of Humility.
To this, Yoon Si-woo asked her,
“Um, ‘Holy Sword of Humility’ is kind of long. Do you have another na?”
[“A na…? Then…”]
Lucifel recalled the na he had once given her.
The one na in this world that only he had the privilege of calling her.
Though Yoon Si-woo was not exactly the sa man, he was still, in part, that person.
So Lucifel answered him.
[“Call Lucy.”]
And so, Lucifel beca Lucy.
And the two beca family.
Reviews
All reviews (0)