A new dawn broke over the skies of Eirteria.
A chilly, gentle breeze slipped between the alleyways and narrow roads.
High above, birds soared and chirped in celebration of a new day.
They pierced the clouds, then settled atop one of the tall, magnificent white buildings—constructed in a Greek style, adorned with gold.
Nearly all the buildings of the city were new and beautiful, matching the style of that grand structure.
There were gardens and fountains everywhere.
It was as if another paradise had taken root in a corner deep within the earth.
People in the busy, neighboring markets began their daily routines.
Students walked toward the academies and schools, weary like any students on an ordinary day.
Teachers and thinkers began their lessons, and the bells rang to announce the start of the day.
A man wearing a mask and a cloak that covered his entire body gazed down from his luxurious palace in Artia at the people beginning their day.
That man was Atlas Rhein.
He was reading a book while stirring sugar into his hot tea.
He fell silent for a moment, then lifted his eyes slightly as he looked toward Artia Square.
Atlas:
"Five years ago…
After the end of the revolution…
I couldn't reorganize my army or return to the scattered lands of the Atlasians.
Now I try to adapt to Eirteria and support its ruling system as the price for staying.
My remaining here was originally part of Laok's plan. He knew I wouldn't leave this country until grey hair appeared on my head."
He closed his book and asked for another, having finished the last one.
Atlas's assistant said hesitantly,
"Sir, this book is in the Eirterian language. Are you sure you can read it?"
Atlas:
"I learned it from Hyunkel a while ago."
He took the book, then examined the assistant carefully.
Atlas:
"Have you finished the task I assigned to you?"
The assistant nodded.
"Yes, sir. We published The Art of War in Eirteria, and the biology and classified science books, and the books of philosophical principles—just as you ordered."
Atlas smiled.
Atlas:
"Hyunkel must be pleased now. Today, Artia's library becomes the largest repository of knowledge thanks to his records and volumes.
Anyway—where is he now?"
The assistant smiled.
"In his usual place, sir.
Arsia's Martyr Hill."
Atlas sighed.
Atlas:
"So he's gone to Arsia again, huh?
Tell the councilor to handle affairs—and prepare the horses."
The soldier replied eagerly,
"At once, sir."
Atlas removed his mask but kept his cloak on as he set off with his assistant toward Arsia—
toward the man who sat at the peak…
the sage of all Eirteria.
Arsia was beautiful that day.
Lit by lights stretching across its tall mountain-like buildings,
its renovated factories and crowded camps gave it a distinctly Roman atmosphere,
along with the majestic appearance of the grand amphitheater where the revolution's strongest blow had once taken place.
Atlas reached the hill.
He lifted his eyes upward and saw a man sitting beneath the statue of Apollo.
The man was reclining, using his staff to support his hand, his eyes closed in contemplation.
He appeared to be in his middle years—short, slender, with a light beard already streaked with grey.
His brown hair was cut short and curled backward.
He wore a white shroud, a thin leather vest, and a protective scarf around his neck.
That man was Hyunkel.
---
The Meeting
Atlas looked at the meditating man.
He pulled the hood of his cloak off his head.
Atlas:
"What are you doing here alone? And what's with that beard?"
Hyunkel looked calmly toward Atlas.
Hyunkel:
"Nothing, sir. I sit here every day to remember and think… in silence."
Atlas:
"Your books are now available in the empire's libraries. Isn't that good news?"
Hyunkel:
"They were the research and knowledge of those before me. Why should I be proud of something I only transcribed?"
Atlas:
"At least it's better than isolating yourself from people in empty contemplation."
Hyunkel:
"In truth, I was thinking about the water issue in Artia."
Atlas stared at him in confusion, scratching his head.
Atlas:
"I was thinking the same thing. But why can't you stop thinking about others? Why don't you do one thing for yourself? This way of thinking bothers me."
Hyunkel opened his eyes calmly, his gaze void of joy.
Hyunkel:
"The only thing I see with my eyes… is the importance of the Eirterian people. Their happiness and pleasures today bring smiles to their faces and give them new hope to continue their lives.
And when I see those smiles, I smile—because I helped create that virtue and make these people happy.
Worldly pleasures are partial happiness. But absolute virtue is the ultimate goal—
and the wisdom of happiness."
Atlas:
"Yes, yes—enlighten me with your idealism so you can escape reality.
Anyway—I've been dreaming of returning to the Atlassian state today.
And I have a strange weapon—like an arrow, strong and deadly. With a single command I can kill a soldier at incredible speed.
So I came to seek your advice."
Hyunkel propped his staff vertically.
He looked at Atlas, as if dividing his burned half-face from the unscarred one.
Hyunkel:
"Do you know the story of the legend of Yagon, Atlas Rhein?"
Atlas, the scarred emperor, looked at the sage calmly, then smiled as the cool breeze brushed his face.
Atlas:
"No, teacher. Tell me the story, please."
Atlas sat beside Hyunkel, arms crossed, listening attentively.
(Yagôn)
"In ancient times, during the reign of Great Apollo,
it is said that the land of Erteria was originally a vast realm—
wide, fertile, and crossed by a great river.
Mythical beasts and deer lived and fed on the lands of Erteria and on the mighty river,
until they settled there and made it their sanctuary.
Humans were very few in that region,
and they lived in peace with these creatures—
until, one day…
A visitor came from the East.
They were great and powerful beings,
with wings like the sails of ships,
so they could soar through the sky.
Their breath, when exhaled, burned everything in its path—
lands and stones alike.
They arrived carrying vast treasures
and took control of the entire region.
They hid their treasures within the great river,
burying them away from the sight of all creatures.
Then they began killing everything they saw,
until the earth itself was watered with the blood of those animals.
But deep within the caverns of Mount Heraclitus,
a man awakened.
That man was Yagôn.
Yagôn was the lord of these lands.
He was born on this continent among the few humans descended from his ancestors,
and he was trained by a man called Heraclitus.
Yagôn protected these lands from any danger
and defended the animals.
He spread his own form of justice
and ruled an era of magnificent peace.
But one day, his teacher Heraclitus died.
Yagôn entered the cave, lost himself within it, and buried his master there.
It is said Yagôn wept over his teacher until he fainted
and fell into that deep slumber.
When he finally awoke,
Yagôn found that those creatures were attempting to enter the mountain,
believing it to contain legendary treasures.
Yagôn erupted with fury.
He fought the creatures and slaughtered them with his sword,
but he emerged severely wounded.
Yet, as his blade was soaked in the blood of dragons,
the sword became sharper, stronger, and larger—
capable of cutting through anything the eye could see.
And Yagôn himself gained the power to perform miracles through it.
When he exited the mountain,
he found the animals lying everywhere—
they had defended the entrance with their lives.
They had died protecting their lord.
In that moment, Yagôn's anger blazed so fiercely
that when the battle with the dragons ended,
not a single one of them remained alive.
Yagôn restored the land afterward,
but the legendary river vanished—
and with it, the dragons' treasures.
Then, with the last of his strength,
Yagôn wished for his sword to disappear—
and that the only condition to wield it again
would be for it to choose a person worthy of it,
a person possessing absolute virtue."
Hyunkel opened his eyes and looked toward the sun.
Hyunkel: "Legend says that if the sword finds you, it grants you three prophecies—and with them, the power to change fate."
Atlas: "Let me guess… you actually believe that story, don't you?"
Hyunkel: "At first I thought it was a myth. But after seeing the Atlassian people, I knew it was true.
The dragons came from the lands of the East, beyond the seas—
from the Atlassian Empire.
So I assume their treasures came from there as well."
Atlas: "Long ago, we hunted dragons and drove them from their lands. They were savage predators.
My ancestors slew enough of them to force the rest across the sea. But in turn they attacked us, stole many of our relics, and vanished."
Hyunkel stood up, leaning on his staff.
Hyunkel: "So… shall we seek the Yagon Sword?
Or should we let it seek us?"
Atlas gazed quietly toward the East, then toward Artsia.
Atlas: "What do you think Apollo saw?
He too wielded the Yagon Sword.
And before him, Helkias in his crimson cloak."
Hyunkel: "Apollo became a great emperor who led his nation to glory.
Helkias became a symbol of rebellion, hope, and perseverance.
Don't you think they achieved enough?
I don't believe they needed the sword's prophecies."
Atlas: "Then where do you believe the sword is now?"
Hyunkel lifted a finger toward Mount Heraclitus.
Hyunkel: "In its homeland."
Atlas sighed in frustration—he had only just arrived in Arsia—yet he gathered himself and began the journey with the sage.
On the way, Beatrice joined them, insisting she would accompany Hyunkel.
The Journey to the Land of Prophecies.
The three entered the mountain.
They climbed high, navigating passages and ridges within its belly.
Beatrice clung to Hyunkel most of the time, sometimes climbing onto his back during steep ascents.
Atlas grimaced at the girl's behavior. But on a difficult path, she descended to drink from a running stream.
Atlas bumped Hyunkel's shoulder.
Atlas: "So… planning to marry that girl?"
Hyunkel blinked, baffled.
Hyunkel: "I don't know.
But I think I'd prefer to ask her if she wants to marry me, not the other way around."
Atlas chuckled at the answer… then looked at Hyunkel, troubled.
Atlas: "Are you still grieving over what happened five years ago?
Helkias died… and your two companions died at my men's hands."
Hyunkel sighed, his voice turning somber:
Hyunkel: "I have seen wonders so strange that I declared
that man's end is but an illusion.
I saw life run beside us, screaming that death
is the answer given to humankind.
Decay is the rightful fate of all creation—
and virtue alone never fades."
He smiled weakly at Atlas.
Hyunkel: "Ruins remain, my friend.
But their people live only in memory."
He then lifted Beatrice onto his back again and continued forward.
Behind them, Atlas replayed the sage's words, shivers crawling through his body.
Atlas: "Why do you have such ambition?
Why are you always… right?
I truly don't understand you."
Hyunkel smiled.
Hyunkel: "If you think I'm always right, then I appreciate the compliment.
But I'm only human.
I don't have Yagon's body to fight dragons.
I don't have Lauk's military genius.
I don't possess Helkias' courage… nor Apollo's and the Great Atlas' commanding presence.
But I am human—and that is what sets me apart.
I preserved their knowledge and their ideas, to record them for future generations.
I am a scholar, a thinker—not a wielder.
Just a human being."
Beatrice interrupted him.
Beatrice: "Why did you always cry over your enemies?
Do you think the Monrach deserves pity?"
Hyunkel answered softly:
Hyunkel: "The Monrach is not evil—he is human as well.
What he did was wrong because he sought survival at any cost.
We hate his action, not the man.
That is not a reason to hate him."
They entered a chamber inside the mountain.
Hyunkel's voice echoed through the cave, water dripping like rain.
Hyunkel: "Hatred is the true disease.
A truly evil man is one who kills for personal hatred—not out of justice or consequence."
Atlas: "And how would you know that?"
Hyunkel: "Because I hated once.
I, too, was wicked.
I am not as perfect as you all assume.
I am simply… repentant."
The three walked into a fog-filled chamber.
Atlas froze.
A bloody handprint marked the shroud on Hyunkel's back.
Atlas: "What… is that?"
Hyunkel smiled.
Hyunkel: "You only noticed now?
Yes, Raine… I am the Bloodied Stag."
The ground collapsed between them, preventing Atlas from crossing.
Hyunkel looked at him from the opposite side of the broken bridge.
Hyunkel: "Seems we are close to the truth."
Atlas scratched his head in anger and disbelief.
Atlas: "Are you revealing this just to justify summoning the sword, or are you finally making peace with yourself in front of me?"
Hyunkel: "To be virtuous, one must be reconciled with oneself.
I am the Bloodied Stag.
I am Hyunkel.
And I accept it."
He raised his hand in a poetic gesture.
Atlas exhaled, then lifted his hand as well.
Atlas: "I accept your reconciliation—on one condition."
Hyunkel: "And what is it?"
Atlas: "Grant me one of the three prophecies."
Hyunkel: "Very well. Meet me at the summit."
The chamber collapsed. Hyunkel and Beatrice ascended toward the peak.
Atlas—ambitious, burning with pride—climbed alone.
When the three reunited at the summit,
the Yagon Sword was embedded in the mountain's crown.
Beatrice placed her hand on the hilt.
Hyunkel placed his on the guard.
Atlas gripped the blade itself.
A blinding white light erupted—
and visions came.
---
The Prophecies
(The Virgin)
Beatrice saw a beautiful dream—returning to Artia with Hyunkel.
Yet she felt sorrow.
She saw herself in a future library, alone.
Memories of past-and-future swirled.
Loneliness swallowed her.
She saw herself buried under the earth—unvisited, forgotten.
The terror woke her.
---
(The Ambitious One)
Atlas saw a distant future.
He held a weapon resembling a rifle—modern, intricate.
He memorized every detail from the vision.
Then the scene shifted:
He dueled a rider atop a stag, wearing a white bloodstained shroud and a faceless helm.
Their blades met—
and Raine fell dead, his sword shattered.
He woke in shock.
---
(Absolute Virtue)
Hyunkel saw a desert.
He struck the ground, and water burst forth like a spring.
He awoke with joy.
---
The three awoke outside the cave, in the forest below.
Beatrice recoiled from Hyunkel, terrified.
Hyunkel: "Lady Beatrice, what is wrong?"
Beatrice: "I'm sorry… I have to go."
She fled toward Artia on horseback, crying.
Hyunkel stared after her—then suddenly felt cold steel at his neck.
Atlas: "In my prophecy, we dueled in the future.
The Bloodied Stag killed me.
Hyunkel…
What are you?"
Hyunkel sighed.
Atlas: "I'll hear no more explanations.
But for old times' sake, I give you a chance:
Leave Iritaria for Archia.
Do not return."
Hyunkel: "You ask Hyunkel to walk into Archia?
You know I'm wanted there."
Atlas: "That no longer concerns me.
It's just a chance to flee.
Will you abandon your fate again—as you did five years ago—
or will you live anew and redeem Hyunkel the Sage for the sins of the Bloodied Stag?"
Hyunkel stared at him—silent, hollow-eyed.
---
**A week later, in Artia…
The Farewell.
Hyunkel looked back at Artia—the city he fought for all his life.
He wanted to see Beatrice one last time.
He found a grand celebration in the library.
Entering quietly under a cloak, he saw Beatrice—
in a wedding dress, smiling beside another man.
Guests gasped as Hyunkel's hood fell.
He simply smiled… looked away…
and walked out peacefully.
Beatrice stared at him, confused—
feeling something she could not name.
Hyunkel was happy.
He had seen her laugh.
He then left for Archia through the desert.
His stag greeted him. He released his horse and supplies.
He tapped the ground with his staff.
The stag struck a point—
and water burst forth in abundance.
Hyunkel laughed, danced, splashed like a child.
The stag leapt around him.
He felt Lauk and Helkias behind him.
He looked toward the sun.
Hyunkel: "Farewell, my friends."
Their spirits drifted away, and the stag ascended with them.
Hyunkel ran joyfully back toward Artia carrying a barrel of fresh water.
Guards stopped—then shouted:
Guard: "Wait—is that… water?"
Second guard: "Is that HYUNKEL?!"
They laughed and danced, following him to the spring.
But eventually, they had to surrender him—by Atlas' command.
Crowds surrounded him in reverence.
Before the imperial palace, Beatrice stood beside Atlas.
Atlas was crying.
Hyunkel did not look at Beatrice; he simply smiled.
He stepped forward to face his sentence.
Atlas' voice trembled:
Atlas:
"Before the Tri-Imperial Council of Artia, Arsia, and Archia,
we formally revoke the execution of Hyunkel, Sage of Artia,
known as the Bloodied Stag,
for his role in the uprising.
His sentence…
shall instead be carried out by poison."
Atlas broke down in tears behind his mask.
Hyunkel drank the poison calmly.
He collapsed.
Hyunkel—
was gone forever.
Women shrouded his body.
Men wept openly.
A massive funeral marched that night.
Atlas left the palace
and never returned.
Through storm and rain, all of Artia gathered at his grave—
by the spring he had created.
When the storm ended, only Raine remained.
All night he stood before Hyunkel's grave,
his royal cloak torn by the wind.
He cried more than he ever had, even as a child.
At dawn, he bowed deeply.
Atlas:
"I promise I will fulfill my purpose.
I will bring the history of Iritaria to every kingdom in the East.
I will let the world know who you were, Hyunkel."
He boarded his ships, rifle on his shoulder.
He left Artia a changed man.
He lifted his mask and cast it into the sea.
He raised his arm to the sky:
Atlas: "Men! Today we unite the entire world!"
His soldiers roared.
Thus ended one story—
and began another.
The End.
End.