The fire crackled. The wind howled outside like the ghosts of the fallen.
I sat there. One arm, tattered cloak, soul hanging by a thread.The tavern was small — creaky wood, old lanterns, the smell of cheap whiskey and frozen shoes.
My sword, Gods Speed, leaned against the wall beside me — the only thing that still remembered who I was.
I took another swig.The liquor was bitter. Just like everything else these days.
The bartender — a big man with a calm voice and kind eyes — finally spoke.
"So… what brings someone like you this far north? You've been drinking in silence for an hour."
I leaned back. My voice cracked like ice.
"...I walked."
He raised a brow. "From where?"
I stared at the flickering lantern. My voice turned cold. Empty.
"East. And North. I walked without purpose. As if my soul was trailing behind me.I walked until I couldn't anymore…Collapsed in the snow. Thought I'd die there."
I looked around the tavern — the quiet warmth, the flickering shadows.
"And then I woke up… still lying on the cold floor.That's when I saw this tavern. And that's how I ended up here."
The bartender's hands froze mid-wipe.
"…So it's true, then. You're the one. The slaughterer of the Eastern Capital. The Golden Prince turned Demon."
I gave a tired smirk.
"One-armed devil. Fallen prodigy. The sword saint with no kingdom.I've heard all the names. Doesn't matter anymore."
He paused. Eyes lowered.
"…That's a fucked-up story. But damn, it's a powerful one."
"Yeah. I'm tired," I muttered, tipping the bottle."Sometimes I wish I could just… become the wind."
He blinked. "The wind?"
I nodded, chuckling weakly.
"To be something that floats above it all.No weight. No regrets. No chains.Just... drifting."
He gave a soft laugh. "A strange dream for someone who once held lightning in his hand."
"Maybe. But what else is left?" I leaned forward, eyes bloodshot."What do you think I'll do now? With nothing left but this sword?"
He scratched his beard. "No clue. What do you want?"
I leaned back again, staring at the cracked ceiling.
"…Maybe I'll start over.Build a little house.Find a beautiful, caring wife — one who won't stab me in the back.Have three kids. Grow old. Live happily ever after..."
I paused.
"…My ass."
He laughed, startled. "What?"
I snorted.
"I'll probably drink my brains out. Sit on the frozen floor. Overthink every damn thing.Make fake scenarios in my head. Then come back here tomorrow and get wasted again."
He grinned, shaking his head. "Well, hey — it's your life. Do what you want. You're welcome here as long as you want to stay."
I lifted the bottle and nodded.
"Thanks. Pass me another. I want to forget this damn world for one more night."
He poured.
I drank.
Outside, the snow continued to fall like ash from a burnt-out kingdom.
And that…That was a dazzling night, don't you agree?
But make no mistake.That wasn't the end of the story.
That was only the beginning.
— Narrator