I Can See the Sword’s Memories

Chapter 4: The Girl Ran Toward the Starting Point (4)

The familiar crunch of snow underfoot was gone. The visible puffs of white breath in the cold air had disappeared.

Instead, swarms of rare insects buzzed around, and the ground was covered in lush green leaves.

The unknown. I had awakened to a new world, one I had never seen before.

Discovery. I touched and observed things for the first time, experiencing them as they were.

I wandered through the green forest for a long time, having lost sight of my original purpose.

“It’s warm. Everything I touch.”

Unlike the harsh tundra, everything my hands brushed in this place radiated warmth. 

The mild weather nurtured the growth of plants, which fed herbivores, which in turn fed carnivores, forming a perfect ecological balance.

My decision had been right. Looking out over the expansive forest, I nodded to myself. Here, I was confident I wouldn’t starve to death.

Even if I couldn’t hunt, there were tree fruits to eat, and if none were available, I could dig up roots. To me, everything in the forest seemed edible.

And I wasn’t wrong. During hunts in the tundra, when supplies ran low, anything edible had to be consumed—tree bark was considered a precious resource then.

The first thing I did was find a place to settle. I was lucky to come across a dead tree beside a flowing stream. I dug out a spot beneath it and made it my base.

Afterward, I bathed in the stream. While the civilized people from beyond the mountains often called us “filthy barbarians,” we, too, paid attention to hygiene.

I was particularly meticulous about cleanliness now. In the past, I might have found it tedious and simply laid down to sleep. But I couldn’t let my sister’s body remain in a filthy state.

So, I washed thoroughly.

Life in the forest was remarkably smooth. Frequent bathing not only kept me clean but also erased my body odor, which improved my hunting efficiency.

I even set a new personal record: catching ten squirrels in a single day.

As time passed, my small body gained strength and endurance. I began targeting larger prey, such as deer.

I chose one deer and pursued it relentlessly. Unable to match its speed, I used tracking techniques, chasing it until exhaustion overcame the animal.

After two days of pursuit, I finally secured the deer. That day, my shelter gained a deer-hide rug.

The longer I lived in the forest, the more I began to notice a strange energy building within my body.

At first, I thought it was simply a residual effect of the shamanic magic my sister had used.

But it wasn’t.

The energy was faint, almost imperceptible unless I focused on it. 

Yet, when it surged forth in critical moments, its intensity was undeniable and immensely helpful.

This energy greatly enhanced my physical abilities. When it manifested while running, it gave my legs tremendous strength, allowing me to move faster and farther.

When it surged as I swung my sword, even my frail arms could cleave through a log.

Looking down at my hands, I recalled an ancient legend I had heard long ago—a tale passed down only within the White Frost Tribe.

“The great warrior of the White Frost Tribe could transform into the shape of a bear, unleashing incredible strength in critical moments.”

“Hmm…”

I stood and raised my arms above my head, mimicking the posture of a bear. But no overwhelming strength emerged. It seemed legends were just that—legends.

Two weeks passed, and I began expanding my territory.

Predators that crawled on the ground posed no threat to me. 

By climbing trees, throwing rocks, and shooting arrows, I forced ground-bound animals to flee.

I left the tree-climbing predators alone, respecting our mutual boundaries. 

We exchanged silent glances of acknowledgment before retreating. Gradually, I carved out my own domain.

Today, like any other day, I went deer hunting. Areas rich with tree fruits often attracted deer and other herbivores, making them prime hunting grounds.

Lowering my stance and exhaling softly, I moved silently, channeling all my focus into the hunt. Using every skill at my disposal, I crept closer to the deer.

The target was peacefully nibbling at some wild strawberries on the ground, completely unaware of my presence just a few steps away.

Gulp.

Only five steps separated me from the deer.

“Any closer, and it’ll notice me.”

Swallowing dryly, I tightened my grip on the sword in my hand.

There was only one chance. If the attack failed, the deer would flee deep into the forest, never to be seen again.

I knew I had to exercise the utmost caution. Holding my breath, I waited for the perfect moment.

Then, the direction of the wind shifted. I seized the opportunity and lunged forward.

Swish—!

A silent ambush. A hunter doesn’t shout or make noise that might alert their prey. The target should remain unaware until the moment of death.

I swung my sword.

But then—

Whoosh—!

The sound of something slicing through the air reached my ears from not far away. I recognized it immediately. It was a familiar sound, one I had often heard when my brothers lost their arrows.

Reacting quickly, I twisted my body mid-air. Although I couldn’t gather full strength, I managed to swing my sword in the opposite direction.

Clang—!

Sparks flew as steel clashed against steel. A split second later, a loud sound erupted, sending the startled deer bounding away in fright.

I didn’t chase after the deer. Instead, I lowered my stance, breathing shallowly, and turned to face the direction the arrow had come from.

There, a man holding a large bow emerged from the shadows.

My eyes scanned the man’s equipment swiftly. A single dagger hung at his waist, a quiver slung diagonally across his back, and in his left hand, a large bow.

“Huff!”

Exhaling sharply, I sprinted forward. I had to strike before the man could notch another arrow on his bowstring.

An intruder in my territory. Worse, the man had launched an attack first. I considered him an undeniable enemy.

“Wait, what…?”

Thud, thud, thud—!

The man’s surprise was evident. I closed the distance rapidly, slipping into his space and swinging my sword upward in a powerful slash.

A diagonal strike, aimed from below to above.

“Ugh…!”

The blade didn’t meet flesh but instead struck the sturdy shaft of the bow. 

The man had managed to pull back at the last second, raising his bow defensively. But this was within my expectations.

I never believed a single strike would be enough to kill my opponent.

As my attacks grew faster, their force increased. I used my small body to full advantage, putting my entire weight behind each blow.

Swish—!

“Gah! Wait! Stop!”

Remarkably, the barbarians beyond the great mountain range and the so-called civilized people spoke the same language.

However, it was only the language that connected us—everything else, from culture to environment, was worlds apart.

For me and the White Frost Tribe, once someone became an enemy, their words were never worth listening to.

The man before me was a clear enemy.

If I didn’t kill first, I would be the one to die. For someone like me, who had lived in the harsh wilderness ruled by the law of the strong, the choice was obvious. I was simply fighting for my life.

As desperate as I was, so was the hunter, Deidram. He had ventured far from home for a hunt and had just shot an arrow at what seemed like a fine deer.

At that moment, Deidram had been imagining the deer dish he would enjoy later that evening—until a small girl had appeared and deflected his arrow.

Judging by her attire, she was clearly a barbarian from beyond the mountains.

Deidram recalled his experiences with the so-called “barbarians.”

Most were cautious, polite, and wary. Realizing that this girl spoke the same language, he wanted to resolve the misunderstanding through conversation.

He wanted to explain that it was a coincidence, an accident, that he hadn’t intended to harm her.

But I didn’t give him the slightest opening. Like a wild wolf, I approached silently and swung my sword with precision. My movements were predatory.

Even my breathing carried a primal, feral quality.

Cold sweat trickled down Deidram’s back.

“Stop! It was an accident! I mean you no harm!”

He shouted as he retreated. But I didn’t stop.

Deidram let out a long sigh. If I wouldn’t listen, he would have to act. To subdue me cleanly and without causing harm, he would need to use mana. My attacks were simply too dangerous to handle otherwise.

Deidram began a deep, steady breathing rhythm, activating the mana centered near his heart.

Thump—!

His heartbeat surged, and mana coursed through his veins. A faint blue glow accompanied his breaths. In that instant, Deidram kicked off the ground.

Boom—!

The ground beneath him cracked as his mana-infused legs propelled him forward. Closing the distance explosively, Deidram reached for my nape.

Hoo—

A low, deliberate breath escaped me. The moment my faint breath shimmered with a blue light, my blade cut through the air.

Swish—!

The sword slashed through empty space, striking nothing. Yet, Deidram’s expression turned deadly serious.

It was as if time itself had been severed. For a moment, the two of us stood frozen, silently staring at each other.

I gauged the situation. My opponent no longer seemed intent on attacking. At the same time, I didn’t see any chance of victory. That left me with only one option.

Edging sideways cautiously, I suddenly turned and bolted.