In the white room, a man sat on a chair without cushions or armrests, tending to a dagger, not even a single unnecessary breath escaping him. Wilton, draped in black like a curtain, wore clothes as black as pitch from head to toe. It seemed he had no other engagements after his class today.
The tips of my fingers and toes grew so cold that I felt as if I were buried deep in perpetual snow, and I raised my hands several times to check. My fingertips and toes felt like they would be frozen blue, but they weren’t.
“It’s best not to move much. The Lymph-Rasten you just took will have a slower effect the more you move your body.”
“…Yes.”
I obediently lowered my hands again. I lay there blankly, only blinking.
I couldn’t understand how he could tend to a dagger without making a single sound. If he kept tending to it like this, the palm-sized dagger would become as small as a finger…
I must be bored, seeing as I was getting lost in idle thoughts. Since I was only allowed to move my eyes and mouth, I kept my gaze on the ceiling and spoke up.
“Is it because you support the Second Prince that you’re training me, Professor?”
The answer didn’t come right away.
I turned my head to look at Wilton. He put the dagger he was holding back into its holster. He seemed relaxed, but after blinking twice, the dozens of daggers that had been on the small table disappeared into Wilton as if they were being sucked in.
“Yes.”
“Is that the opinion of the entire Nobility Almanac Management and Inspection Department?”
“Not quite.”
Wilton Roberts maintained a consistently calm expression. Having seen the smile on his face several times, I knew that this expression was him gauging how much he could tell me.
“It’s about half and half here too. Most people support those with relatives and connections… Those who have had direct contact with the princes choose the one they feel closer to.”
“By contact, you mean…”
“Those who were classmates with the First Prince when he was at the academy side with the First Prince, and those who were classmates with the Second Prince during his academy days side with the Second Prince. The professors are the same, and so are the people in the Management and Inspection Department.”
“…Academy… Classmates.”
“Yes, Richard and Rubel both managed their reputations well. They maintained their dignity while showing themselves enough, and they were only friendly enough not to be underestimated. It’s no wonder the current Emperor can’t decide on an heir right away. Both of them are quite decent talents, even if they are cold.”
Ha. A short laugh escaped me. I couldn’t believe it every time I heard that Rubel was cold and dignified. Seeing me laugh, Wilton Roberts also raised the corners of his lips. I asked again.
“Cold?”
“Yes. But you received special treatment.”
A chilling silence fell. It was hard to tell whether it was because my body was cold or because Wilton had replied coldly. Wilton leaned back in his chair. As if weightless, the chair didn’t budge at all.
“The Imperial family inherited the divine blood. Whether you believe it or not now, it was a member of the Imperial family who saved the people whenever the country suffered from calamity. History proves this.”
“…”
“They are not a superior race by birth, but they were useful sacrifices.”
“…Sacrifices…?”
“I don’t mean that they actually offer sacrifices and offer up the Imperial family.”
Wilton Roberts laughed again. This time, more amused, gleefully.
“You were a kid who liked hero stories. How do hero stories usually go? A hero who receives a divine mandate defeats a vicious monster with his companions and returns to receive a reward from the King, right?”
“…Yes. That’s right.”
“What else would you call someone who receives a divine mandate and sets out to defeat evil if not a sacrifice?”
“…That’s…”
“A person who dedicates their time, life, and passion to support and fix the world is, in good words, a hero, and in simple terms, a sacrifice.”
I couldn’t agree with that.
It was something that anyone who knew chivalry should do. I opened my mouth to retort, but blood welled up, and I took out a handkerchief to block it. After coughing a few times, a bottle of antidote suddenly appeared in front of me.
I familiarly spat out the blood and wiped my mouth. I opened the antidote bottle and swallowed it in one gulp, then opened my mouth.
“Heroes and sacrifices are different.”
“What’s different?”
“A sacrifice doesn’t act on their own will, but a hero acts on their own will to bring salvation, doesn’t he?”
“You’re saying there’s an idiot who can disregard his own life and stand up for justice and the happiness of the people?”
“Yes.”
Wilton Roberts took the empty antidote bottle from my hand and laughed again.
“Yes, that’s why I support the Second Prince.”
“…”
“I hope you don’t change.”
“Yes, I won’t.”
I had not saved the world, so I was not a hero. But I had lived my life trying to walk the right path. I recalled what Rubel had said about the Nobility Almanac Management and Inspection Department. He had said that it had to be fair because dozens, hundreds, thousands of eyes were watching.
I also wanted to stand tall and proud in front of these watching eyes.
I familiarly lay back down and endured the silence. Because of the face of Child that suddenly came to mind, it was difficult to stop thinking. Rubel had said that he was constantly training his sword to become a Sword Master. The monster and philosophy classes I had last taken with him were classes to learn about benevolence.
…What other chivalrous person, what other hero, could be as righteous as that Child? I steeled my wavering heart.
❖ ❖ ❖
Monday, the fourth week of April.
I stood before Maelo Sanson. The distance didn’t matter. Both he and I were Martial artists with a gap that a single arena could not accommodate.
The Mana existing around Maelo Sanson’s body flowed in a peaceful manner, as if it had forgotten his existence. It was the opposite of my state, where I was tense from the start and constantly gathering energy at my fingertips.
I still needed precise calculations to use internal energy and aura together. My gaze was fixed on Professor Sansone, but all my nerves were on edge to balance internal energy and aura.
Without blinking an eye and without taking a single breath carelessly, I tried to fully understand Sansone, who had his usual benevolent face and drooping hands. The fact that every place seemed to be a gap was the same as saying that there was no gap anywhere. Maelo Sanson was complete, and I was incomplete.
I counted numbers in my head. One, two, …now.
I quickly threw my body to the left. Maelo Sanson’s sword, which had taken the initiative, grazed my ear. When had he drawn his sword? I couldn’t see it. I was only able to barely avoid it because I had anticipated that he wouldn’t wait long if I didn’t attack.
While his sword was being fired non-stop, I was also busy. I ran like the hands of a clock, drawing circles as if being chased by his sword in the middle of the arena. If I was the hour hand, he was the minute hand, and if I was the minute hand, he was the second hand.
I was slower, so I had to see further ahead. After stepping on the floor, I jumped up and ran on the wall. I grabbed the ceiling and rolled on the floor. The sword that chased after me drew a huge arc, scraping the ceiling and the floor together.
The current Sansone was not a human, but a Martial God.
All the domains of this space were in his hands. Nothing would happen if I just kept running away like this. To find a chance to swing my sword even once, I touched the floor with my hands like a beast. I threw my lowered body without hesitation.
Clang!
A huge sound rang out. The Sword Path was read. Rather than the sound from the swords colliding, it was like the sound created by a huge bell. The recoil from the swords colliding was so fierce and strong that it seemed to have swallowed a house-sized bell whole. Unable to overcome the rebound, I quickly retreated my light body.
The recoil that was still shaking my body did not subside easily.
One-third of a breath more than the step I originally took, when it was twisted.
Huff, I swallowed a gasp and jumped high. The sword that aimed for my ankle relentlessly scraped the sole of the dress shoes I was wearing. With no way to retreat, I ran forward again. I thought it was an open chest, but what blocked the end of my sword was the middle of a calloused palm.
Before the blade was crushed, I shook it off and created distance.
Only then did I take a breath that I had been holding back. The excitement that had risen to the top of my head brightly illuminated my eyes. I should have been out of breath, but I knew that I would collapse in an instant if I rolled around in vain. Instead of breath, I swallowed the sky.
The momentarily scattered aura shone blue again.
Originally, Maelo Sanson, when facing me, easily showed a smile, but these days it was different. The corners of his mouth were tightly closed in a straight line. I deliberately showed a gap. Even though I knew that he wouldn’t be fooled by such a trivial trick, it was a trick to catch my breath and straighten my body.
My master, who had clearly read my intentions, did not bother to take away my breath. He had taken the initiative, so he was willing to concede one move. I couldn’t miss that opportunity.
It was a bad idea to fully clash swords with a Martial artist of Hwagyeong. I swung a straight sword that didn’t contain any Swordplay. There were few ways to block such a simple swordplay. Anticipating the way Maelo Sanson would block, I brushed aside the incoming sword.
The sword surface and sword surface stuck together with the mystery of absorption. It flowed without colliding.
Since Sansone’s height was higher than mine, the lower part was more advantageous than the upper part. When I pulled down, a smile finally spread across Sansone’s lips, as if he had no choice, having realized my trick. It was pleasant.
The sword collided eight times in one breath.
In the time it took to blink again, I changed movements twenty-four times.
Scattered light filled the arena. It was a battle of aura against aura. Sword energy and Sword energy collided. Some lights stuck to the floor, and some shadows filled the ceiling. Finding a shadow that was okay to hide in between the light and shadow was now an easy task.
I held my breath and calmed my mind.
It was too late to swing the sword after thinking. I had to block before he stabbed, and I had to collide before he slashed.
I was pushed back,
I was pulled in.
Where is there a sky that collapses when waves crash? Faster, stronger, fiercer, I stepped on every path that could exist in the blind spot of Maelo Sanson’s vision. I screamed so hard that I would cut even his sleeve or collar once.
I saw a path that he didn’t give up.
Bang, I stepped on the ground fiercely, as if to shoot upwards. Following my big movement, Sansone’s gaze momentarily looked up. I didn’t soar upwards. I shot forward. I slashed right under his chin. The sound of this collision is shallow. It was because he blocked without putting enough force into it. The dismay that permeated Sansone’s eyes was so sweet.
I immediately floated my body in the air. Now.
What the sword drawn long from that sky to below contained was the sky. It was lightning. Thanks to the fierce energy and energy colliding and becoming dark clouds, the Swordplay that poured down like rain called down lightning. Now that I had seized the momentum, I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
All sounds were torn and chewed up. The dragon that lost its wish-fulfilling jewel twisted its body greatly.
A terribly huge silence.
When I came to my senses, I saw my master, who had retreated to the far end of the arena, holding his sword in front of his body.
The black marks between him and me were clear.
Ah.
I won.