Website powered by

Second Origin

There was a man who was loved by all.
Sun, sky, tree, beasts. They all loved him.
He listened to the voice of all things unlike the other people.

Kings, nobles, princesses, paupers. They all loved him.
His swordsmanship was remarkable, his eyes looked at the miserable men, and his heart didn't stay quiet against injustice.
He was the successor of the Constellation Art, and the friend of all.

There was the Witch of the Swamp, who hated him.
She thought he was receiving immoderate and unfair love.
She decided to take what he cherished the most forever.

The witch disguised herself as beggar and collapsed in front of him.
She clutched and hexed his hands when he came close to help her.
Now his hands were cursed, and every swords they grab would rot and turn into ashes.
The swordsmanship he trained for so long has turned into nothing.

The Witch of the Swamp is known as the first and last one to see straight face of him, who was later called the Swordless Swordsman.