There was a precious mory.
A scene that, though ti had passed, hadn’t faded.
Even the scent of spring brushing past in the wind had sunk deeply into the girl’s heart.
It was a mont she still recalled vividly, even now.
"Always keep this in mind, Irene."
A gentle hand stroking her hair.
Her master had smiled quietly.
At the ti, she had turned her head, annoyed at the nagging—but now, even that had beco a cherished mory.
The girl continued to recall, feeling the heat burning at her fingertips.
The voice continued.
"There will co a ti in your life when you’ll want to give up."
A phrase that softly took root.
Each ti despair threatened to break her life, those words had stood her back up again.
Beyond the old voice lay the life of a certain fox.
And it served to prove what she’d once been.
"Irene.
The world is a storm-lashed dawn.
No matter how desperately you try to run, misfortune will find you eventually."
A glisten of tenderness welled up at the corners of wrinkled eyes.
The old man, lying in bed, raised himself with effort to continue.
"It will hurt. It’ll be scary, and sad, and lonely... You may even want to collapse.
You might end up kneeling before the howling storm.
That’s what life is."
But even so, Irene—
"This master of yours hopes you won’t yield."
Beco soone who does not bow.
Even in the raging storm, hold your head high.
Beco soone who can swing their sword.
"It’s fine if you’re blocked by an unreasonable force.
Even if everything about you is denied, and all that’s left is a wretched tremble—it’s still fine."
Just don’t bend what you believe is right.
Rather than a reed that sways with the wind, be a pine tree that resists, even if it’s torn apart.
This is the sword I taught you.
"Swing your sword toward the storm.
Leave behind the cowardly comfort, and be the first tree to break."
This is the master’s final lesson.
The most important things cannot be seen with the eyes.
You must always see with your heart.
"Even at a dawn when waves crash, life goes on.
Just like old sailors once found their way by the stars, life needs direction.
So, Irene."
That’s what her master had said.
Even now, his voice remained, unchanged, tucked away in a corner of her mory.
It served as a signpost on a road full of nothing but wandering, holding up the weak girl.
An eternal mont.
"Find your own star."
Only after the night had passed,
Did the fox begin to live by her own star.
It was quiet.
“......”
As if night had fallen across the entire world.
At the still center of silence, Irene stood alone in the darkness.
At dawn, where even the faint blue moonlight was veiled by clouds.
Her vision seed to sink into pitch black.
“Haa, haa...!”
Ragged breaths filled the air.
Heavy panting, as if soone might collapse at any mont.
But those miserable breaths didn’t belong to the girl.
They were the hunting dogs’.
“Guhk...!”
Suddenly, one of the hounds crashed to the floor.
Its upper body, separated from the lower half, traced a graceful arc through the air.
Then ca a wet thud—followed by a burst of blood.
The hunk of at dyed the corridor red, the stench of iron ravaging the scent of spring.
Flas flickered.
“......”
Irene shook the blood from her sword.
Her eyes showed not the slightest tremble.
Around her, several assassins had already fallen.
The corridor, once sprawling in scale, had been ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) stopped cold before the sword of a single girl.
Her black eyes stared flatly ahead.
There—
“Damn it! What the hell is this monster...!”
“Don’t get close. You’ll die.”
“That’s already the seventh...!”
They flinched.
The hounds didn’t dare approach, locked in a standoff.
Each one looked crushed beneath the weight of the atmosphere.
That was how overpowering the presence of the fox was.
“......”
And behind the hounds, a man cowered.
The rchant bit his lip.
“Goddamn it...!”
Of course he’d be furious.
A re beast, ant only for profit, was blocking his way.
And his guards couldn’t even lay a finger on her—his humiliation must’ve been unbearable.
Irene said nothing to the twisted expression on his face.
She only looked down with an indifferent, sunken gaze.
As though regarding a piece of trash.
“How dare you, filthy lowborn...!”
More than any insult he could spit, it was that gaze that humiliated him most.
Irene looked down at the man with eyes as cold as death.
As if to say no one feared him.
As if to say he was nothing.
The rchant’s shoulders crumpled under the weight of disgrace.
‘Sothing’s wrong.’
Irene showed no particular reaction.
She felt no need to.
It was a strange sentint.
Her heart was completely at peace.
Even in the path of her sword, which might’ve wavered before, only tranquil ripples spread now.
She simply breathed.
"You must find your own star."
Sreung—
She steadied her loosened grip on the sword.
Her palm closed around the hilt.
A tingling sensation spread through her entire arm.
When she closed her eyes, a faint voice shimred at the edges of her consciousness.
It was the voice of the star that had co to stay by the fox’s side, sohow, sowhere along the way.
The star asked:
[My fox.]
[Do you truly intend to finish your story now?]
No.
The girl shook her head.
Her story was not yet finished.
She was only now standing at its beginning.
‘I am rely returning the night to the night.’
The fox welcod the morning filled with light.
Life carried on, even at dawn.
As long as one didn’t lose the aning they held dear, a cherished landscape would never shatter.
All it took was the will to step forward—to tread toward tomorrow.
She was no longer the seventeen-year-old girl locked in a cage.
She was neither fragile nor weak.
[Then let ask.]
[If this mont is the beginning, in what direction will your story now go?]
[Wandering through bitter night, despairing, falling—and in the end, returning it once more.]
[In that long journey, what was the star you found?]
[What is it you now wish to call your star?]
A star.
A word that had made her contemplate for so long.
But now, it was a question she could answer with clarity.
The girl quietly gave voice to herself.
She spoke of her life.
‘I am...’
She had arrived at many answers over ti.
What is a star?
At first, she thought it ant those beside her—what she wanted to protect.
At one point, she even defined it as life itself, and the sword she wielded.
To the sa question, the fox had always offered different answers.
And this ti, too, her answer was not like before.
"Miss Irene.
I will never abandon you."
A star—life.
More precisely, the direction that life looks toward.
My star, the one I look up to, was you.
The fox whispered softly.
"Yuda Snakeus."
She savored that dear na.
Ominous, sotis mischievous, but always kind.
The one who rescued her from the caged world—perhaps even from life itself.
Her calm smile blood like spring into winter.
"That person is my star."
The fox chose him as the light she would look to with all her heart.
Her unwavering answer satisfied the star.
The star acknowledged her star.
[So that is your answer.]
[Then let honor be given to the light that nestled in your night sky.]
[Let dawn rember your constellation.]
Crack—!
A spark burst at her fingertips.
With the tingling rush, a faint glow swallowed the blade.
The light spreading beyond the flas dyed the night in brilliance.
The sensation of grasping the sky grew more vivid, more absolute.
[And I shall pray.]
[That you will live fully within your dawn.]
The next mont—
The fox opened the eyes she had shut.
A sacred light shimred in her pupils.
The clouds parted, and the world celebrated the birth of a new star.
The sweeping white crossed the landscape of falling starlight.
“What the hell is that...?”
“Shit! Don’t just stand there—run!”
“It’s over, we’re already too—!”
A scene of overwhelming awe.
Before anyone realized, the bloodstains had faded, and pure white had soaked the surroundings.
Even the flas that once raged now danced alongside the white.
That perfection left its na in the highest sky.
A constellation drawn in the night heavens.
“...Ah.”
Soone gasped.
Their hair, now dyed white like the flas.
The fox’s eyes glead with purest white.
She had finally reached the light of her chosen star.
Its na—
"Baekrin."
The chorus of stars shielded the fox.
Her focus rested solely on the sword.
The blade, burning white, lit up the dark of dawn in glorious brilliance.
The girl walked among falling fragnts of starlight.
As if to declare a beginning, she parted her lips—
To the strangers standing before her.
"Welco to my star."
A single, quiet whisper.
No one could resist it.
Only the sky, shattered by the falling light, was beautiful beyond words.
The surging flas lted both flowers and seasons, and brought the unspoiled tomorrow into today.
Then, a single white line sliced through the strangers.
———!
Just like before.
A single strike that made no sound.
Only, for a fleeting mont, the world itself split.
The rchant and his hounds, struck in a clean line, stood frozen—
And only after a delay did they realize they had been cut.
At the sa ti, the sky fractured into thousands of pieces.
"...Disappear, back into your night."
Barely moving lips.
At last, the belated sound of a slash rang out, long and drawn.
Srrrk—!
And then—
The pure white flas devoured the strangers.
Leaving not a single trace behind.
So that they would no longer remain in the girl’s night.
That sharp elation sank with the overheated silence.
Irene faced it.
"......"
The quiet.
The dawn that returned once again at the end.
In the girl’s world, no past remained.
Only the starlit dawn beyond the horizon existed now.
The fox simply stood still.
Whoooosh—
In the wind brushing across the field.
White.
Sword.
Life.
You.
Fla.
Scorch.
The Fox Constellation.
And with the star—
The girl welcod the morning.
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