It was the Janissary who ended the struggle first.
By twisting his body and retreating, he rendered my attack futile. I had been striking down with all my might, and with my opponent suddenly gone, my stance collapsed. Staggering forward, I made a swift decision—if I tried to hold my ground, I would die. Instead, I shifted my center of gravity forward and rolled across the ground once more.
Yet instinct whispered—if I didn’t act immediately, I would die.
I grabbed the blade instead of the hilt. Swallowing a breath, I twisted my body and struck out with the hilt.
—Kagak!
The clash of steel against the hilt.
Beyond it, the Janissary’s face twisted with unreadable emotion.
The moment I felt strength returning to my exhausted body, I deflected his blade to the side.
His stance wavered. He stumbled forward.
There wasn’t enough space to reverse my grip and thrust my sword at him.
Instead, I released my left hand from the blade and clenched my fist so tightly that my knuckles cracked.
—PANG!
“Guh…!”
The Janissary staggered, coughing up saliva from the force of the punch to his gut.
I knew the strike had landed cleanly.
Using the brief opening, I leveled my sword at him.
There was no hesitation.
Even if he was among those I had failed to protect, I had too many others left to defend to be shackled by what was already lost.
With my blade still aimed at him, I closed the distance in an instant.
But he wasn’t a Janissary for nothing.
Despite his pain, he lifted his sword and swung.
—KAAAAANG!
The sharp wail of clashing steel rang across the battlefield.
Cleverly, he struck at the center of my blade’s weight with his own, throwing off my trajectory.
But our attacks were evenly matched.
We swung again, aiming to take each other’s lives.
The battle lessened and flowed, a constant push and pull.
Whenever I gained a step forward with strength, I lost one in skill.
But one thing was certain—if this deadlock continued, we would both perish.
Perhaps realizing the same, the Janissary became more aggressive.
I couldn’t afford to retreat either.
If I hoped to survive against an opponent who had resigned himself to mutual destruction, I would inevitably suffer a fatal wound.
Each time our swords clashed, sparks scattered.
Trading blow for blow, we tested our fates on the razor’s edge between life and death.
Then, at last—
Our blades aligned at nearly identical angles.
Steel pressed against steel, locked together in a battle of sheer force.
Step by step, we pushed forward, neither willing to give ground.
It was only now, with our blades so close, that we truly faced each other.
A Janissary wielding his sword in loyalty to the Sultan.
A Christian monarch wielding his sword in defiance of him.
The first to speak, overcome by emotion, was the Janissary.
“You know this fight is meaningless, Your Highness!”
Even as he spoke, he twisted his sword, seeking an opening.
I blocked each shift, answering firmly.
“There is no such thing as a meaningless fight…!”
Upon hearing my response, his hatred deepened.
He had already been fighting with murderous intent, but now his desire to crush me with sheer force surged even more violently.
Yet—I had glimpsed what lay behind that hatred.
The Janissary before me was the very embodiment of the Empire’s weakness.
The despair of those who had already resigned themselves.
Because the Empire was weak, they had lost.
Again and again, they had been taken from.
They were the ones I had failed to protect.
That was why I had to win.
The enemy before me was a man broken by centuries of decline.
A former citizen who once had no choice but to kneel before an overwhelming foe in order to survive.
If I couldn’t overcome even him, how could I hope to defeat my true enemy?
To protect those who remained, I had to sever those already lost.
The long-forgotten glory I had once spoken of no longer mattered.
I—
—I now fight for the sovereignty and freedom of those who follow me.
—KAGAGAGAK!
“…To think you had such strength hidden in that tattered body!”
The sword slowly pressed forward. Twisting the body or deflecting the blow was no longer an option. This time, one of us would surely fall. And if someone had to fall, it would not be me.
I poured the full weight of my life into my blade, bearing down on my opponent. The Janissary’s body, already weakened, gradually began to crumble. The impact to his abdomen from earlier must have resurged, for he was now drenched in cold sweat, his voice breaking into a desperate cry.
“Why!? Why now of all times!?”
I did not answer.
“Why was my parents’ suffering never repaid!?”
It was too late to turn back. No matter what he said, his loyalty lay solely with the Sultan. He may have wavered, but he would never turn his blade against his master. That was what it meant to be a Janissary—an elite force taught only unwavering loyalty and discipline.
I reaffirmed my resolve. And yet—
“Am I not one of your people, Your Highness!? Your Highness!”
For a brief moment, the strength behind my sword faltered. Seizing the opportunity, the Janissary tried to shove my blade away. But the movement only served to clear my mind.
No. He is not one of mine. He is my enemy—the one who threatens my people. He may have doubts, but that is all they are.
His defense was now wide open. This was the moment.
With all my might, I drove my blade downward.
“Kh…! Aaaagh…!”
He tried to stifle his scream, but the pain was too much to bear. His severed right arm fell to the ground, blood splattering across the dirt.
I raised my sword once more, aiming precisely at his chest. It was then that I saw his face, twisted not in fury or hatred, but in sorrow.
Tears spilled from his eyes.
“I… I can no longer believe in people like you.”
“I never asked you to.”
I thrust my sword down.
The blade tore through his ribs, piercing his heart. As I twisted the steel, a sickening scrape of bone echoed in the air, and blood gurgled up, spilling down the fuller of my sword. His eyes widened, caught between pain and disbelief.
To make sure, I drove the blade deeper.
He must have cursed me in his final thoughts—resented me, hated me.
At last, his trembling body went still.
“If heaven exists, then watch from above,” I murmured.
If you have grievances, take them up with the gods.
I pulled my sword free.
Around me, the Janissaries hesitated, slowly stepping back. Corpses littered the battlefield, making it nearly impossible to distinguish friend from foe. Only I and one other knight remained standing.
Our gazes met. His face was hidden behind his helm, but I could tell—he was smiling.
And indeed, his voice, laced with exhilaration and triumph, confirmed it.
“Look behind you, cousin.”
Perhaps it was exhaustion or relief, but my movements felt sluggish. As I turned, my vision shifted—where before I saw only the dead, now I saw the living.
Warriors clad in armor and gripping long spears stood in formation, their tense expressions barely containing the raw emotion threatening to spill forth.
And finally, when I had turned completely—
There she was.
A woman astride a horse, framed by the fluttering banner of the double-headed eagle.
Her golden hair, gleaming under the pristine sky, cascaded past piercing blue eyes filled with joy and deep affection as she gazed down at me.
Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, yet her voice, though trembling, rang clear.
“The enemy is in full retreat, Your Highness.”
At her words, a deafening roar of victory erupted from all around.
It was only then that I truly grasped it.
We had won.
Tears threatened to spill from my own eyes. My grip on my sword tightened.
There was still a chance.
For the first time, I looked up at the sky I had long ignored.
“Vic…tory.”
The sorrow of losing comrades, the grief of witnessing death, the joy of survival, the overwhelming exhilaration of taking one step forward—everything twisted together into an emotion I could not name.
For a long moment, I did nothing but stare at the sky, lost in its vastness.
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