17.A Small Hope in Kangho

With the Wiho Clan finally driven out, Lee Do-Hyun and Han So-Yeon prepared to continue their journey. But before they could set off, a group of villagers approached them, their expressions heavy with worry.

"Please… before you leave, we need your help."

A landslide had blocked the main road, cutting off access to nearby towns, and a local farmer had been badly injured trying to clear the debris. Trapped and unable to move, his condition was deteriorating by the hour.

Do-Hyun let out a deep sigh, frustration creeping into his voice.

"The power structures in Kangho are completely backwards. Something like this should've been resolved immediately—no one should suffer from simple neglect."

So-Yeon tilted her head slightly, her arms crossed.

"This is Kangho. Survival always comes first. Helping others… that's a luxury most people can't afford here."

Do-Hyun gave her a faint smirk.

"That's where we differ. You see survival as the end goal. I see it as just the starting point."

 A Simple Act of Kindness

They found the injured farmer lying on a makeshift cot, his leg swollen and misshapen—an obvious fracture. The man's eyes were dull with pain, yet no one had been able to help him.

Do-Hyun examined the injury with practiced ease.

"It's not too bad, but it needs proper treatment immediately."

Using wooden branches and torn cloth, he crafted a splint, stabilizing the farmer's leg with delicate precision.

So-Yeon watched, her brow furrowing.

"Where did you learn this? In Kangho, we rely on internal energy or herbal medicine."

Do-Hyun chuckled softly without looking up.

"Back where I come from, we didn't have such luxuries. Sometimes, the simplest solutions are the most effective."

The farmer, tears of gratitude welling in his eyes, weakly clutched Do-Hyun's hand.

"I… I don't know how to repay you…"

Do-Hyun shook his head, offering a warm smile.

"You don't need to repay me. Just help someone else when you're able—that's more than enough."

The Power of Lightning, the Grace of Control

With the farmer stabilized, they turned their attention to the blocked road. A wall of stone and debris towered over the path, cutting the village off from the outside world. The villagers gathered nervously, unsure how to clear it.

So-Yeon unsheathed her sword confidently.

"I'll handle this. I'll break through the rocks."

But Do-Hyun raised a hand, stopping her.

"Not every problem can be solved by brute force."

Drawing the Ego Blade, he stepped forward and placed his hand on the blade's cold surface. It responded immediately—an electric hum vibrated through his fingers as if the sword could sense his intention.

"No fire this time… Let's see if I can truly control this."

Crackling arcs of lightning danced along the blade's edge, coiling around his arm like a living serpent. The air around him buzzed with static energy, the scent of ozone sharp in the air.

So-Yeon's eyes widened in shock.

"Lightning? When did you learn that?"

Do-Hyun didn't answer. Instead, he brought the blade down in a sharp, decisive strike. A brilliant flash of light split the boulders with a deafening thunderclap, the debris crumbling under the weight of raw power and precision.

"The sword isn't just giving me power," he muttered, "It's testing whether I'm worthy of it."

So-Yeon smirked, arms crossed.

"Not bad, Captain. But let's see if you can use that power when it really matters—in battle."

A Spark of Hope

That evening, as the village settled into a rare moment of peace, a group of curious children approached Do-Hyun, their eyes wide with awe.

"Mister! Is it true? Can you really call lightning from the sky?"

Do-Hyun chuckled and knelt down to their level.

"I didn't call it—the sword did."

The children gasped in delight.

"That's so cool! Can it do anything else?"

He leaned in conspiratorially.

"It helps me find the best meat when I eat."

The children burst into laughter.

"That's such a silly sword!"

From a distance, So-Yeon watched the scene, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

'He's not just fighting battles… He's giving these people hope. Maybe that's what makes him different from the rest of Kangho.'

 A New Kind of Strength

As dawn approached, Do-Hyun ruffled the hair of a young boy standing shyly beside him.

"When I return, I expect you to have become even stronger."

The boy nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with determination.

As they departed, the villagers waved, their expressions no longer clouded by fear but lit with newfound hope. For the first time in a long while, Do-Hyun felt as if he had truly changed something.

So-Yeon walked beside him, her voice soft but steady.

"You didn't just defeat the Wiho Clan. You showed them that strength isn't about domination—it's about protection."

Do-Hyun smiled faintly, gripping his sword tighter.

"If I can change even one person's future, then every fight will have been worth it."

The road ahead was long, but for the first time, the shadows of Kangho felt just a little less oppressive.

Hope, it seemed, could be the sharpest blade of all.

****************

: Dependence on the Sword and Doubts

The quiet forest path stretched endlessly ahead, sunlight filtering through the thick canopy as a cool breeze whispered between the leaves. Yet, for Lee Do-Hyun, nature's serenity did little to calm the storm raging inside him.

His footsteps slowed until they finally stopped altogether. His hand rested on the hilt of his Ego Blade, and his gaze darkened with contemplation.

Han So-Yeon noticed his hesitation and stopped as well, her sharp eyes softening with concern.

"Why do you look so down, Do-Hyun? What's weighing on your mind?"

After a pause, Do-Hyun lifted his gaze, his voice low and strained.

"It's nothing… Just a few things I can't ignore anymore."

But So-Yeon wasn't convinced. She stepped closer, her tone gentle but firm.

"In the village, when you used lightning—it was incredible. I've never seen anyone in Kangho wield power like that. So why does it seem like that very strength troubles you?"

His fingers tightened around the sword's hilt.

"That's exactly the problem, So-Yeon. Every time I use this power… it feels less like my own strength and more like I'm borrowing something I don't fully understand."

So-Yeon tilted her head, curiosity and concern mixing in her voice.

"Borrowing it? But isn't that what the sword chose you for—to lend you its power?"

Do-Hyun shook his head slowly.

"It doesn't feel like the sword is lending me anything. Every time I call upon the flames or lightning, it drains my stamina and focus faster than it should. It's as if the sword is testing me… or worse, using me."

There was a brief silence as So-Yeon processed his words. Swords with a will of their own were rare in Kangho, and if Do-Hyun was feeling that imbalance, it wasn't something to dismiss lightly.

"Then… if that's how you feel, why don't you learn to control it, rather than letting it control you?"

Her words lingered in the air.

Do-Hyun slowly unsheathed the sword, letting the cold steel catch the faint glimmer of sunlight. The blade trembled—not violently, but enough for him to feel its presence, like a living thing breathing beneath the surface.

A familiar, chilling whisper echoed in his mind.

"Do not reject me. You were chosen for a reason. If you are weak, do not blame me for your failings."

For a moment, Do-Hyun closed his eyes and responded in his thoughts.

"Weakness… Is that what this is? If I can't control you, then I'll surpass my limitations on my own. I refuse to be your tool."

The sword remained silent, its presence lingering like a shadow.

So-Yeon studied his tense expression before speaking softly.

"No one in Kangho becomes strong alone, Do-Hyun. Everyone relies on something—whether it's a master's teachings, inner energy, or even a weapon. You're no different. Learning how to wield this power isn't weakness—it's part of your growth."

His grip loosened slightly as her words settled in.

"I understand that… but what happens if I lose this sword? Will I still be strong enough to survive? Or am I just a vessel for its will?"

So-Yeon smiled, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Then let's make sure you're more than that. We'll find a way for you to grow stronger—without relying on the sword alone."

A sense of clarity began to form within him.

"A way to stand without leaning on its power… Yes, I need to prove I can survive as myself, not just as the sword's wielder."

With renewed determination, he started walking forward again, his voice steady.

"The sword is a part of my strength—but it won't define me. I'll carve my own place in Kangho with or without it."

So-Yeon fell into step beside him, her voice light but sincere.

"Good. And when you falter, I'll be there to remind you of that promise. That's what companions are for, right?"

For the first time in days, Do-Hyun allowed himself a small, genuine smile.

"Thank you, So-Yeon. That means more than I can say."

The forest path stretched on, but this time, his steps felt lighter—not because the journey had grown easier, but because he had found clarity in his purpose.

This wasn't just about mastering the sword's power. It was about proving that Lee Do-Hyun—with or without the blade—could survive and thrive in Kangho on his own terms.