Chapter 1. Two Suns

by Foreigner · 2026-08-21

I opened my eyes.

There were two suns.

Gihun closed his eyes.

He opened them again.

There were still two.

'.......'

He closed them one more time. This time, he kept them closed for a while. He counted to ten.

He opened them.

Two.

Gihun gave up.

Pebbles dug into his back.

So, he wasn't dead. If he were dead, pebbles wouldn't dig in. Probably.

Gihun decided to lie there and sort out the situation.

One, he was dead. This was certain. Water had filled his throat, his lungs had burned, and his left arm had been crushed.

Two, he was alive. This was also certain. Because of the pebbles digging in.

Three, there were two suns.

'.......'

It wasn't making sense.

Gihun tried to lift his arm.

It was his left arm.

It was perfectly fine.

He bent and straightened it. He did it twice. He didn't do it a third time. It felt like doing it three times would make it too serious.

'It's fine.'

It was fine.

It was fine, but it wasn't his hand.

The fingers were long. The joints were slender. The nails were neatly trimmed, and there wasn't a single callus on his palm.

Gihun's hand didn't look like that. A hand that had kicked and punched people for twelve years wouldn't look like that.

Gihun looked at that hand for a long time.

'Whose hand is this?'

He crawled to the water's edge.

He crawled instead of walking because he wasn't confident enough to stand yet. And crawling was comfortable. Humans originally walked on all fours.

The river water was clear.

He leaned his face in.

There was a boy on the water's surface.

Around fifteen or sixteen. Brown hair fell to his shoulders. His eyes were large, and his nose was sharp. His face was fair.

He was handsome.

Gihun pulled his face out of the water.

He took a breath.

He put it back in.

He was still there.

Aron: ...Who are you?

The boy said the same thing. His voice was high and thin.

Gihun pulled his face out of the water and lay back down on the gravel.

The second sun was dazzling.

He hadn't tried to search his memories.

He was just there.

In the place where he recalled his own memories, someone else's entire life had entered.

Aron Arneit zi Erseneus.

The only son of Duke Hail of the Heness Kingdom. Sixteen years old.

Gihun repeated the name several times. It was difficult to pronounce. Aron was fine, but the rest was the problem.

'.......Arne-what.'

He searched his memories a little more.

Information poured out.

Studying in Heinz for four years. Always first in written exams. Excellent in literature. Excellent in continental history. Excellent in rhetoric. Excellent in arithmetic. Excellent in sword theory.

'Oh.'

Gihun was briefly impressed.

Lowest in practical swordsmanship.

'.......'

Advanced in horsemanship. Advanced in martial arts. Advanced in music.

Lowest in stamina. Lowest in strength. Lowest in endurance.

'.......'

Cannot eat spicy food. Hands chap easily in winter. Stomach hurts when drinking milk.

'Do I need to know even that?'

Gihun stopped searching.

To summarize, it was like this.

The owner of this body was a child named Aron. He was sixteen, the son of a duke, and intelligent. But his body was useless. Completely useless.

He had died yesterday on the battlefield.

That memory was also there. It didn't feel like reading someone else's diary. It was something he had experienced. The fear of falling from the cliff was as vivid as if it were his own. The sensation of his fingers breaking was the same.

But he didn't feel like he was Aron.

His ego was Gihun. That was clear.

However, next to it, a life was laid out in parallel. Neither was above nor below the other.

Gihun covered his eyes with his arm.

'Of all things.'

Thousands must have died on that battlefield yesterday alone. If you count the entire world, it would be tens of thousands.

'Of all things, this kind of kid.'

A kid who dropped his sword after two exchanges.

A kid who ran away crying.

A kid whose only physical activity in sixteen years was riding a horse for a stroll.

Gihun laughed.

It wasn't that he felt like laughing. He laughed because it seemed like the better option.

'At least my arms are fine.'

That was true.

He took off his armor first.

His hands moved on their own, loosening the waist clasp and unhooking the shoulder straps. Aron's body knew what to do.

It was comfortable.

After taking it all off, he lifted the armor.

It was heavy.

'I ran in this?'

No wonder he almost died.

Gihun set the armor down on the gravel and stood up.

It happened in one go.

But his vision was high.

Gihun was 175cm tall. This body was taller than that. About five centimeters.

'He's sixteen?'

He would grow even more.

Gihun felt good for a moment.

'Height is a bonus.'

He took a step.

It went far.

'.......My stride is different too.'

Two steps. Three steps.

It took about ten steps for his body to get a little used to it. Gihun shook his legs, rotated his shoulders, and twisted his neck left and right.

His warm-up was over.

Then he had to check.

Gihun used his left foot as an axis and lifted his right foot.

Front kick.

It was the most basic.

It was the move least likely to cause injury.

A sound came from his thigh.

Aron: Ack.

Gihun collapsed right there.

Aron: Ack. Ah. Aaaack.

The inside of his thigh felt like it had been burned. When he pressed it with his hand, the muscle was bunched up like a rock.

Gihun rolled around on the gravel for a while.

It was a body that had never stretched in its life.

His flexibility wasn't zero; it was negative.

Aron: ......Haa.

Gihun lay on his back and cursed at the sky.

He cursed in Korean.

Strangely, it sounded like his own voice.

After regaining his senses, Gihun checked three things.

First, this body is weak.

Second, this body doesn't bend.

Third, but it's strong.

He found out the third by accident.

It was because the rock he leaned on to sit down moved.

Gihun looked at the rock. It was about the size of a person's upper body.

He tried pushing it again.

It moved.

He grabbed it with both hands.

It lifted.

Gihun stood there holding the rock. His arms trembled. He knew he couldn't hold it for long without muscles.

The problem was that he could lift it with these arms in the first place.

He put the rock down.

'What is this?'

He searched Aron's memories.

Aron had no strength. He had been ridiculed for sixteen years because of it. When he held a sword, his wrist would shake, and when he drew a bow, the string wouldn't even be pulled halfway.

The memories were so vivid that the present felt strange.

Gihun stopped trying to find an answer.

It was a waste of time to dwell on a problem that had no answer.

That was one of the few definite lessons he had learned in his twenty-two years.

'It's a good thing, so it's fine.'

The problem was where he was.

Gihun searched his memories again.

This time, he searched more carefully. It felt like opening someone else's drawer.

Meton River.

Since he fell from the top of a cliff, he must be somewhere below it. He didn't know how far he had been carried by the current.

Aron knew three things about the Meton River.

First, people called it the River of Death.

Second, the upper reaches were cliffs, so he couldn't go up.

Third, if he went downstream, he would reach Dedon Mountain.

What he knew about Dedon Mountain was even simpler.

A monster's paradise.

No records of anyone entering and coming out.

'.......'

Gihun looked upstream.

Beyond the bend in the water, a cliff was visible. It was dizzyingly high.

He looked downstream.

It was a forest.

'No options.'

To be precise, there were options.

The option of starving to death here.

Gihun looked at the armor again.

It's heavy if he wears it, and dangerous if he doesn't.

After a moment's hesitation, he decided to only take the breastplate. He left the rest behind.

He had no weapon.

He had already lost it before falling off the cliff. The memory was very vivid. The sword had bounced out of his hand, flown about three meters, and stuck into the dirt.

Just in case, Gihun searched Aron's memories.

Twenty-three basic sword forms appeared.

There was everything: the order, the angles, and why each was effective in certain situations. Form 3 was for when an opponent came from above, Form 7 for when an opponent came from the side, Form 12 for when there were two or more opponents.

'.......'

He didn't have a sword.

'Why do I remember this so well?'

Gihun scanned the riverside.

A broken spear shaft was caught there. He picked it up and shook it, and it split in half.

There was a piece of a shield. It had no handle.

There was a leather strap. What could he do with a leather strap?

'.......'

Gihun walked on empty-handed.

It was about an hour after he started walking.

His chest hurt.

Gihun stopped.

It wasn't his heart. It was higher than that, and deeper inside. He wasn't having trouble breathing either.

'What is it?'

He found the cause after searching.

Aron's memory had just flashed by.

There was a man standing by the river. He was wearing red armor and had no expression.

It was his father.

More precisely, it was Aron's father.

Gihun tried to recall that face again.

It hurt again.

'.......'

Gihun sank to the ground.

It was strange.

He had never met this man.

He didn't know his voice or his personality. All the information in Aron's memory was that he was the strongest swordsman on the continent, spoke little, and never smiled.

But the thought of that face brought pain.

He missed him.

He was missing a man he had never even met.

Gihun sat with his arms resting on his knees.

Gihun had people in his life too.

There was Director Kim. He was the one who paid for the gym fees and expedition costs, and even drove them to the competition venue in his own car.

There was Sergeant Oh. He was the one who made him train for two hours after regular training and then handed him a piece of paper when he was discharged.

There was Sister Saralucia. She was the only person he could truly relax around for twenty-two years.

There was Jeong-ah noona. She was four years older, cooked for fourteen residents at sixteen, and now runs a hair salon in Daegu.

They were good people.

He was grateful.

But thinking of any of them didn't make his heart ache.

Gratitude and pain were different things.

Gihun hadn't known that difference for twenty-two years.

You can't miss something you don't have.

He had no parents, and he felt no emotion about not having them. He wasn't sad. To be sad, you had to lose something, but he had never had them in the first place.

But now, it hurt.

'.......Funny.'

Gihun rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

No tears came.

There was no way. That wasn't his father.

It just hurt.

That was all.

A sound broke the silence.

Gihun stopped walking.

It was the sound of a branch breaking. To his left.

And then from his right too.

'.......'

Gihun slowly turned his head.

There was a wolf.

'Ah.'

His first thought was how big it was.

Its shoulder height reached his waist. So, if it stood up, it would come up to his chest. It had a long snout and teeth protruding outwards. Its fur was wet, and something black was caked around its mouth.

It wasn't just one.

One on the left. One on the right. And one a little behind the front.

Three of them spread out in a semicircle.

Gihun felt something very strange as he looked at them.

His legs were trembling.

'.......?'

He hadn't told them to tremble.

Gihun looked down at his legs. His knees were trembling visibly. His hands were the same. His fingers were curling up on their own.

'These aren't my legs.'

At that moment, he knew.

It was Aron.

This body was a coward. He had lived as a coward for sixteen years, and those sixteen years were ingrained in his muscles. Changing his mind didn't change his body.

Gihun gritted his teeth.

'It's okay. Calm down.'

He couldn't calm down.

The middle wolf took a step forward.

Gihun instinctively took a step back.

He shouldn't have stepped back.

The moment he retreated, the wolf on the right moved sideways. Animals don't calculate. They just know. They know it will run away.

'.......'

He had no weapon.

He looked back and saw a tree. Should he climb it? If they couldn't climb trees. But with those claws, it seemed like they could.

The river. Should he run to the river? Could he swim? Could they not?

His mind raced. It was Aron's mind. This body's calculations sped up when in danger. That was how it had survived for sixteen years.

And the answer those calculations now provided was one.

'.......I'm dead.'

The wolf sprang.

Gihun rolled to the side. Rather than rolling, he fell. His legs had given out, and he couldn't stand.

That saved him.

His neck should have been where the teeth passed.

Aron: Uh, uh.

Gihun crawled back on all fours.

The second one came.

This time, he couldn't avoid it.

The teeth sank into his left arm.

Aron: Aargh!

It was hot.

It wasn't tearing or piercing. It was just hot. And then it hurt. It wasn't just pain; it was something beyond what the word "pain" could describe.

The wolf shook its head.

His body was dragged along.

His face scraped against the ground.

'Ah.'

This time, he really thought that.

'So this is how I die.'

It was strange. Even though he had died before, he was scared. No, he was more scared because he had died before. That time, it was instantaneous, and there were no options.

Now, he could see it coming.

The third wolf leaped.

Gihun saw it.

Its mouth was wide open. Four upper teeth, four lower teeth. He could see all the way inside.

And his body moved.

It wasn't Gihun who commanded it.

It was a movement he had repeated hundreds of times a day for twelve years. It was etched into his legs, not his head. When something flew at face height, his body automatically set its axis, bent its knees, and then straightened them.

His right foot shot out.

Thud.

The sound was short.

Gihun heard that sound.

And opened his eyes.

The wolf was gone.

More precisely, it was over there.

It was embedded in a tree trunk about four meters away. Its side was bent at an odd angle, and its leg twitched once before stopping.

Gihun saw it.

And looked at his right foot.

Aron: ......Huh?

The wolf that had been latched onto his left arm let go.

Gihun looked in that direction.

The wolf looked at him too.

Their eyes met for a moment.

The wolf backed away.

One step.

Two steps.

The remaining wolf also backed away. Then it looked at the base of the tree once, and then at Gihun again.

Gihun was still on all fours.

Blood was dripping from his arm.

'.......'

Gihun slowly stood up.

His legs trembled.

It was the same trembling as before, but this time his legs had strength.

He took a step forward.

The wolves ran away.

After the wolves completely disappeared, Gihun collapsed onto the spot.

More precisely, his legs gave out.

Aron: ......Ha.

He couldn't breathe. It seemed he hadn't been breathing for a while. Gihun took several deep breaths, then exhaled. His hands kept trembling.

His stomach churned.

Gihun turned his head to the side and vomited.

He hadn't eaten anything since morning, so there was nothing to come out. Still, he did it a few more times.

After a long while, Gihun wiped his mouth with his sleeve and stood up.

His left arm was a mess. There were four holes, one of which was quite deep.

Then he looked at the tree trunk.

The wolf was still there.

Gihun walked towards it.

Up close, it was even bigger. Its entire flank was caved in.

Gihun stared at it for a long time, then looked at his right foot again.

It was a front kick.

He hadn't even been able to put proper power into it. His stance had been shaky, and his knee hadn't fully extended. If the kids at the dojo had kicked like that, they would have gotten an earful from the master.

'.......'

Gihun poked the ground a couple of times with his toes.

And then he smiled a little.

Aron: ......Oh, I'm strong?

His voice was still trembling.

Gihun sat next to the wolf and rested for a long time.

He had no strength to get up.

Something caught his toe. It was a stone. It was fist-sized.

Gihun picked it up and placed it in his hand. The weight was just right.

He looked at a tree in the distance.

He threw it.

With a thud, the stone embedded itself in the tree.

It was embedded.

Gihun stared at the tree for a long time.

'.......This works too.'

That night, Gihun built a fire under a tree.

He didn't have a flint.

Instead, Aron's memories contained a method of rubbing dry branches together. He had read it in a book.

It was knowledge he had never actually put into practice.

It took two hours.

As Gihun built the fire, he spoke a few words to Aron.

Aron.: Hey.

There was no answer.

Aron.: What's the point of only knowing the theory?

Still no answer.

It was to be expected.

Gihun looked at the fire and then examined his left arm.

The torn wound was healing.

It had only been half a day.

That wasn't normal either.

'...Well, it's a good thing.'

Gihun concluded.

There was one more thing to figure out.

What to do next.

Gihun raised one finger.

One, die here. Starve to death or get eaten by something. This is the most likely possibility.

He raised another finger.

Two, cross Mount Dedon. If you cross it, you'll find a place where people live. According to Aron's memories, that's the case. There's no record of anyone crossing it.

He didn't raise a third finger.

There was no third option.

Gihun lowered his hand.

'I should go home.'

He paused for a moment after that thought.

Home.

Gihun had no home.

He had a single room, no one was there, and that was enough. He had never called it home.

But it had just come out naturally.

It was the home in Aron's memories.

West of the capital. An old tree in the garden. That tree visible from the library window. In winter, he would sit by the fireplace and read books.

His father would come home late.

Even when he came in, he was silent.

But Aron knew his footsteps.

Gihun looked at the fire.

Honestly, he didn't really want to go.

There would be people there.

If there were people, he'd have to talk.

Talking created relationships.

Relationships created things to lose.

Gihun had lived twenty-two years without creating such things. It was comfortable that way.

But his chest ached.

It had ached once in the daytime, and it ached a little now.

Gihun wanted to know what it was.

That was all.

He didn't want to meet his father or act like a son.

He just wanted to confirm what this pain was.

Once he confirmed it, things would be settled.

His life had generally been settled in that manner.

'I'll just go, see his face, and come back.'

Gihun came to that conclusion.

He didn't know then how naive that conclusion was.

As the fire died down, Gihun looked at the sky.

There were two moons.

Gihun searched his memory.

There were indeed two moons. A large one and a small one.

And the second sun he had seen during the day wasn't a sun.

It was the small moon.