Chapter 9

At the news of the wastrel prince’s coming coming-of-age ceremony, the front of the main palace’s Memorial Hall was already crowded with onlookers from the imperial family.

Though there were more attendants, eunuchs, and knights carrying out their duties than there were spectators from the royal family itself, all of them had eyes and ears — so they would end up seeing it regardless.

The onlookers gathered in small groups, chatting eagerly as they waited for the star of the ceremony to arrive.

“Oh my, I couldn’t believe it when I heard that the troublesome youngest prince was holding his coming-of-age ceremony.”

“Right? I thought I must have heard wrong too.”

“If he were even half as decent as his elder brothers, he wouldn’t have earned such an absurd nickname.”

“Exactly. It makes one wonder how something like that could have come from His Majesty the Emperor’s bloodline. Hoho.”

The imperial consorts laughed behind their fans, mocking the Fifth Prince on the eve of his ceremony.

Normally, they would have been subtly competing with each other over their own sons, but since Yurion had become the subject of gossip, they were perfectly in sync for once. It seemed he had earned quite a bit of their disdain.

It wasn’t just the imperial consorts reacting that way.

Even the collateral nobles who shared a drop of imperial blood were the same.

Every one of them was merely looking forward to seeing how Yurion would make a fool of himself during the ceremony.

Meanwhile, thanks to Yuwon’s ceremony, the princes were gathered together for the first time in quite a while.

“The main character sure is taking his time.”

“There’s still a few minutes left. He’ll be here soon.”

“I wasn’t sure if all the elder brothers would come, but here we are. No matter how much of a troublemaker he is, I suppose no one could miss a brother’s coming-of-age ceremony.”

“…Rather than being wary of him, I think everyone’s just curious to see how the forebears’ spirits will judge that wastrel.”

“That’s true.”

Though the princes spoke as if Yurion didn’t even cross their minds, there was an odd tension hanging between them.

This was, after all, the coming-of-age ceremony of a direct imperial heir. Though it was a significant event for anyone with imperial blood, for the legitimate princes born with the right to succeed the throne, its weight was far greater.

Because the result shown at a prince’s coming-of-age ceremony directly reflected his qualification for the next throne.

Indeed, throughout the history of the Empire, no prince who failed to outshine the one who had created the grandest radiance and melody during their era’s ceremonies had ever ascended the throne.

“…It’s cruel, really. The saying that the ceremony’s omen has never once been wrong in imperial history. Just think of His Majesty’s own example.”

Back then, he had been an insignificant prince with neither power nor ability. Yet during his ceremony, the unprecedented “Song of the Sword” had thundered through the palace — and seventeen years later, that powerless prince became the Iron-Blooded Monarch.

“In that sense, we’ve all done fairly well for ourselves. Everyone claims his own ceremony was the grandest, after all.”

“Please exclude me from that, Second Brother. That was something I boasted about before I began following the will of God. As I’ve said many times, I have no interest in the throne.”

“I don’t believe that. The ones who claim to have no greed for money are the ones who go mad for it, and those who say they have no thirst for power are the very ones who’d throw away their own parents for it.”

“Ha… I pray that peace may come to your heart soon, Second Brother. I’ll make sure to pray more often for you.”

“Pray all you want — just don’t pray for me to drown in a basin, yeah?”

“Haha, you joke just like yourself, Brother.”

“Enough, the youngest is coming.”

“That brat… being the star of the day and still showing up last.”

From a distance, Yuwon’s figure came into view, walking toward the Memorial Hall.

He had only his Chief Attendant, Marcellus, accompanying him.

For a prince about to hold a coming-of-age ceremony, his entrance was pitifully plain.

‘He’s here!’

At Yuwon’s appearance, the gossiping spectators all fell silent as if on cue, their eyes following his every step.

His expression and gait were perfectly calm, as if he felt no nervousness at all before his ceremony.

Step, step.

He simply walked steadily toward his destination.

With countless eyes behind him, Yuwon entered the Memorial Hall.

Not a trace of agitation could be seen in him.

“Let’s see… what kind of show he puts on.”

The Crown Prince’s blue eyes, so similar to Yuwon’s own, followed his back.

Tap—

The innermost chamber of the Memorial Hall — the “Grave of Swords,” where none but the Emperor himself could freely enter.

At last, Yuwon set foot there.

Upon reaching his destination, Yuwon turned his head and slowly surveyed his surroundings.

‘So this is how it’s structured. Quite different from the halls I passed earlier.’

Normally, aside from the “Grave of Swords,” the Memorial Hall resembled a well-kept museum open only in part to the public. But the chamber called the Grave of Swords was completely different.

‘No wonder they call it a grave.’

It truly was — a grave.

Said to hold the Empire’s history, the place was overgrown with weeds, the roof gone, leaving the sky wide open above.

Every step Yuwon took sent fireflies and unknown insects fluttering into the air, the crushed grass filling the space with its scent.

Too warm for winter, yet too cool for spring.

Pulling his collar tight with one hand, Yuwon pushed through the thicket, stepping deeper inside.

‘Straight ahead… that’s how it went, right?’

The only lights were a few fireflies and the moonlight, yet Yuwon, enhancing his sight with inner power, strode confidently forward.

One minute… two minutes… he walked for several minutes, the deeper he went, the taller the grass grew — until it blocked his view entirely.

It was not even five minutes after Yuwon had entered the Grave of Swords.

‘It should be about time something appears…’

Rustle—

‘For a sacred site of the Empire, this place is terribly neglected.’

By now used to pushing aside the high grass, Yuwon parted another patch — but this time, what appeared beyond was entirely different.

“Ah…!”

There were swords.

Countless swords thrust into a vast stone field, not a single blade of grass in sight, bathed in a cascade of moonlight.

Moonlight struck a single sword, reflected to another, then again to the next, shattering into countless fragments.

The light torn apart by dozens of blades turned into hundreds of stars, forming a radiant halo.

At the center of that glow — there stood the swords.

Swords that had endured wind, rain, and snow, just as their wielders had once endured the trials of life to defend the Empire.

The heroes were gone, but their swords remained in their stead.

‘This is the Grave of Swords…!’

It was a sight like nothing he had ever seen.

The corners of Yuwon’s eyes trembled as he stood before the brilliance.

There, stood the swords.

It was breathtakingly beautiful, but Yuwon did not linger on the feeling.

‘I wondered what the “Oath of the Moon” mentioned briefly in the book referred to… but seeing this, there’s no mistaking it.’

He had something far more important to do.

‘This could take a while. I should begin right away.’

According to the books he had read, the length of the ceremony varied by person, sometimes lasting six hours or more. There was no need to rush, but there was no reason to waste time either.

‘Then… magic power— no, in my case, inner power.’

Standing before the radiant halo, Yuwon drew upon the energy within his dantian.

Pure inner strength, gathered at his core, began to flow throughout his body in response to his will.

‘Then now…’

It was time for the swords to respond.

‘….’

One minute.

“Hm…?”

Three minutes.

“Why isn’t this working?”

By the tenth minute, Yuwon realized something was wrong.

“Did I do something incorrectly? No, that can’t be. It’s too simple to even make a mistake…”

All he had to do for the ceremony was to draw up energy from the Grave of Swords.

That was the sole task for anyone undergoing the coming-of-age ritual.

‘I’ve already done everything… so why is there no reaction…’

“Ah!”

At last, realization struck Yuwon, and he shouted.

An unpleasant thought flashed across his mind — one he didn’t even want to imagine.

‘Even though inner power and mana are used in the same way, I thought they’d react similarly… could it be?’

Perhaps they only looked similar but were entirely different. Or maybe, as Yuwon suspected, they only seemed a little different but were the same in essence.

‘What matters now is whether it can serve as a catalyst for the ceremony or not. I need to figure something out quickly…’

Even as he pondered, inner power continued to circulate within his body.

‘If this goes on, I might have to draw suspicion and force my way through… even if it’s a bit extreme.’

Then, after a moment of thought, a precious cloud drifted into view, as if to ease Yuwon’s worries.

It glided slowly across the night sky and came to rest before the moon, veiling its light.

The moonlight faded.

As a result, the Grave of Swords was enveloped in pitch-black darkness, with only a few fireflies flickering faintly.

And at that moment—

As if it had been waiting for this exact instant, one sword began to glow faintly in the darkness. Its light caught Yuwon’s eyes.

“Without moonlight… how is it shining?”

Unlike the swords that had reflected the moon’s brilliance earlier, this one glowed on its own, right at the center of the darkness.

Among the dozens of swords that resonated with mana hearts, magic power, and the ‘Oath of the Moon,’ there was one that responded only to the dantian, inner power, and the ‘Oath of Night.’

From hilt to blade, a single pure white sword stood there, quietly singing.

A true standout among all — when every other sword lost its light, only one shone proudly, illuminating the darkness.

Drawn to it, Yuwon approached the radiant sword.

Woooom—

As he had already guessed, the sword was singing with a sound beyond comprehension.

“So this is… the Song of the Sword.”

The sound first resembled raindrops falling from eaves, then the gentle trickle of a stream, and soon transformed into the crashing of waves upon the shore.

The sound seemed to touch not his ears but his soul, brushing softly against his heart.

‘This feeling… is strange.’

It was ticklish yet warm.

Shaking off that strange sensation, Yuwon focused on what he needed to do.

‘At least I won’t be leaving empty-handed since I’ve got a singing sword…’

The problem was that his ceremony was too lackluster compared to what he’d heard of others’. Yuwon’s coming-of-age was far too plain.

‘So they weep at potential, huh? Then the swords must think mine is only worth this much… what poor judgment.’

Other princes would have despaired if their ceremonies turned out this way, but Yuwon wasn’t the type to be discouraged over such things.

“After all, this ceremony was just a formality to suit the body I’m living in. It’s not such an important matter to me.”

Only one sword had chosen him.

That alone meant Yuwon had no reason to wait around for the others to vie for him as guardian swords usually did.

He grasped the hilt of the sword that had chosen him and drew it out.

Sssring—

Pulled by his hand, the sword emerged from the stone, revealing its form — pure white, like freshly fallen snow.

“A sword perfectly suited for White Dog.”

That was Yuwon’s first impression upon seeing his Guardian Sword.

The white blade, a rarity in this world, resembled far more the swords used in the martial world of his past life.

That familiarity pleased Yuwon greatly.

“I was getting tired of those oversized, clumsy swords of this world anyway. This one’s perfect… its weight, its balance — excellent.”

He gave it a few test swings, satisfaction plain on his face.

Although swords here looked somewhat similar to those he had once wielded, they had always felt awkward in his hand — but this one fit as if it had been made for him.

“From the hilt to the blade, completely white… it’s a bit much, but there’s no doubt it’s a masterpiece.”

He had expected to walk away with a decorative ceremonial blade at best, yet this was an unexpected gain.

A faint smile tugged at Yuwon’s lips.

“Good. Then… that’s that.”

The long ceremony was over. Having obtained his sword, Yuwon no longer had a reason to linger. He gathered himself and turned to leave the way he came.

“Wait a second…”

Just as he turned, a sudden doubt stopped him.

‘This sword…?’

Yuwon looked again at the pure white sword in his hand. He faintly recalled having heard of such a blade somewhere before.

He rifled through Yurion’s memories like flipping through a book.

A few seconds later, Yuwon let out a dry laugh.

“This… is going to cause quite a stir.”

He had obtained a sword far greater than he’d expected.