Seung-Mina had been ecstatic the day she had sneaked again from her home to leave in search of the legendary “Sword of Heroes.” Back then, she hadn't taken lightly the fact her father Seung Myong had favored his pupil Hwang over her for the task. She had proved herself over and over as a capable and skilled warrior deemed worthy of carrying the Seung dynasty and of such important mission.
That night, with her heart beating hard and fast inside her chest, she had left with dreams of glory and fame. She would return triumphantly with the sword and her country would be at last able to repel the dreaded invader.
Now, as she struggled to get back on her feet, her left ankle bleeding profusely as the whip-sword wielder stared at her in utter contempt, she feared she had made a mistake, letting her pride override her better judgment. The Englishwoman withdrew the sword, the sharp links tearing flesh and skin from her leg, the sharp pangs of pain making her feel dizzy with the loss of blood. With a malicious grin, the Briton hurled the sword towards her again. Limping, the Korean girl readied in a
defensive stance as she desperately fought the tears in her eyes and the intense pain that made her legs tremble.
“Seung-Mina, you've been such a fool.”