A Promise (1)
"Is this child the only one?"
"...I am deeply sorry, Your Majesty."
The Emperor gazed at the young boy standing before him. For a child of that age, emotion ought to have flickered easily across the face — and yet the boy wore none at all. Dead eyes. Pupils emptied of every last spark of life. At a visage that belonged more to a corpse than a living child, the Emperor's body gave a faint, involuntary tremble.
It is all because of my own inadequacy. Blame me, if you will.
They had answered swiftly when the Demons who had fled here as refugees first raised the alarm. But that window of time had been far too short, and there had been far too much to prepare. Tragedy had begun before they were even a quarter of the way ready. And the result was a tableau of hell — a landscape of devastation and grief — descending upon the Empire.
"Your Majesty. What is to be done with this child?"
"Send him to an orphanage. We can only hope he grows well there."
At the Emperor's heavy voice, every head in attendance bowed.
Gazing out at the castle reduced to utter ruin, the Emperor bit down on his lip. Demonic Beasts poured forth without end. Rifts tore open day after day, barely a sunrise between them. Even an empire as mighty as theirs could not wage all-out war every single day. The Demons were throwing their full strength into the fight, but they had already struck their limits. The once-beautiful lands of the Empire were being ravaged without mercy. The situation had grown so dire that even the Emperor himself had been forced to take the field.
His ministers tried to stop him, insisting there was no need for this. But in a crisis like this, preserving his own life would change nothing. These creatures were not after surrender. They were not looking to negotiate, nor to extract some financial gain. They would swallow every last human down their maws, to the final soul. And so he had all the more reason to fight in person. What empire existed without its people? And what emperor, without his people?
"Let us move. Where did the request for reinforcements come from?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. A three-hour ride from here—"
At that very moment, someone stepped into the Emperor's path.
Steel sang — chaaeng! — and the knights at his side drew as one, a second ring of metal answering the first. Whatever stood before them — even if it were a god — they radiated killing intent, ready to cut it down for their lord.
"Enough."
The Emperor stayed his knights and urged his horse forward. Clip. Clop. The hooves marked the short distance in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
There stood the boy he had saved only moments ago.
"What is it?"
Silence.
"You insolent brat! His Majesty asked you a question!"
"That is enough."
The Emperor stayed his knights once more and dismounted. They followed at once, every one of them swinging down from the saddle to eye the boy who had blocked their lord's path with wary, coiled caution.
"What is your name?"
The Emperor asked it plainly. No answer came.
"Have you no name, then?"
"...Adel."
"Adel. A fine name. Then, Adel — would you tell me why you have blocked my path?"
"...I want to fight."
"You want to fight?"
Only then did the Emperor understand. Beyond those dead eyes of the boy named Adel, a vicious killing intent and a burning rage lay hidden — the desolation of one who had lost everything to hell itself.
"I understand your wish. But you are far too young. You are meant for the future, not for the present. This fight is not a child's burden. Live. For what comes after — live."
Despite the Emperor's words, Adel did not step aside. Those deeply sunken eyes sank further still, into a place without bottom or end. If they left him here, he would go hunting Demonic Beasts on his own. Sensing this, the Emperor let out a deep sigh.
"That brat still won't—!"
The knights arrayed behind him flared with anger once more. Not only had the boy dared to block the Emperor's path — he had even drawn a sigh from His Majesty. They would have been well within their rights to wring his neck on the spot.
"Leave him. What would you have me do? All of this is because of my own failings."
"Your Majesty!"
"That this child was torn from his family — that he came to wear those eyes — I am the one at fault."
The Emperor approached Adel. Then, carefully, he reached out and stroked the boy's head.
"Do you truly wish to fight?"
Adel nodded.
"This is a battle no human can win. To defeat a monster, you must first become a monster yourself. I do not wish to place that upon you. Nor do I wish to see you come to regret it."
Silence answered him.
"Are you certain you will not resent me? Me — and the you of the past?"
Adel nodded again.
"Hah."
The Emperor sighed once more. To hear such words from a child this young. Standing again before this wretched tragedy, his heart tore. He wanted to stop him. He ought to stop him. That he could not was perhaps because he himself was the greatest sinner of all — a sinner who had no right even to forbid it.
"...Very well. How could I tell you not to take revenge? The living do it because they cannot bear it otherwise — because they would go mad, because they would rather die. That is what revenge is. How am I supposed to stop that?"
Had the boy said he wanted to avenge his parents, the Emperor would have told him all the more firmly to live. He would have dragged him to an orphanage if he had to. But this child had already gone past even that. It was not for the dead. It was because he himself could not endure it — because he could not become a person again without unleashing this rage.
"Take it."
The Emperor held out the sword from his own saddle. The knights startled, their mouths falling open — but he paid them no mind at all.
Adel accepted the blade. It was far too large and heavy for a boy so young to bear, and yet he held it, somehow, and looked up at the Emperor. As if asking whether he was now to swing it.
"Yes. With that sword — swing, and swing again, until your heart is empty. Until that rage, that hatred, has all vanished. Until the day you finally wish to live as a human being."
With the resolve to end this damned war in his own generation — with the hope that children like this would never have to exist again — the Emperor slowly patted Adel's shoulder.
The Demonic Beasts that had seemed without end began, little by little, to dwindle. The Rifts that had spawned indiscriminately grew less frequent. The world still fought against hell — but the terror of annihilation that had once hung over everything had largely receded. Now it was people who fought, not monsters. And so Adel had finally laid down the sword he had used to kill. He had decided it was enough.
"What are you doing, Adel?"
Which made the present situation all the more awkward for him.
"Hurry. We don't have much time."
Ordinarily, this would have been a perfectly leisurely hour. But ever since they had attended the imperial banquet — more precisely, ever since they had received commendation from the Emperor and the Princess — nobles of every stripe had begun sidling up to them. As a result, the family's knights, and even the Legram Trading Company, had been run ragged turning guests away. Even so, there were those who insisted on a meeting: the sort of people for whom an audience would be no loss to House Lichtenauer. A luncheon had been arranged with them. Which meant the free time remaining now was barely an hour.
"To be honest, I have no confidence in this."
He had only ever killed. He had only ever swung his sword to kill. But Sien wanted to take up the sword in order to protect. Their paths were utterly opposed, utterly different. The very reasons they took up a blade, the reasons they swung it, were not the same. Even if he taught her, he could not possibly have a good influence.
"I will say it once more. I am not someone who should be teaching anyone."
"Then what?"
"At best, I could show you how I swing a sword. Or I could cross blades with you. That is all."
"That's more than enough. Whatever it is, it's helping me, isn't it?"
Help. Help. The word sounded strangely foreign in his ears. Whenever he swung his sword, there had never been anything but killing. The thought that it could help someone felt peculiar.
"Why don't we start by lightly exchanging a few blows?"
"...Lightly, you say."
"Yes. I want to know exactly where I stand."
When Adel nodded, Sien immediately took up a wooden sword. She could not claim her skill was exceptional, but as a daughter of House Lichtenauer she had long since mastered the fundamentals. It was thanks to that swordsmanship that she had barely survived a Demonic Beast in the past. She did not dream of winning. She only hoped she would not be told to give up.
"Here I come, Adel."
The instant Sien finished speaking and began to step forward—
A sharp crack. A clatter of wood.
Sien blinked, once, then again. She could not quite process what had just happened. Something had seemed to fly at her face, but she hadn't quite seen it. She hadn't even properly registered that it was coming.
"Ah."
Adel let out a small sound of dismay and hurriedly stepped back. Only then could Sien grasp the situation. His wooden sword had flown to a point right in front of her eyes — a fraction further and it would have struck her. And the wooden sword that had been in her own hand had gone sailing far away.
"I apologize, Lady Sien."
"Eh? Ah — ah..."
His body had reacted on instinct. It was not as though Adel had only ever fought Demonic Beasts. There had been times when he had to cut down those who, unable to endure the terror of death, had abandoned their humanity and sided with it. A sword that had cleaved through beast and human alike, without distinction. That killing blade still dwelt in his body. Even now, even against so simple an attack, it sought the instinctive path — the one that could harm his opponent. That was the proof.
"This is how it is. I am not suited to this sort of thing."
Even a wooden sword was threat enough. A blow to the head or neck could cause a fatal injury. His vicious sword was something that, unless the opponent was hell itself, was best never used at all.
"N-no! Wait, Adel."
Sien had more or less read what was going through his mind. His voice, his expression — both had darkened, hadn't they? If she, of all people, told him to stop here, that would not do. She had to give him the most positive answer she could. Otherwise this man would send himself back to hell of his own accord.
"This isn't a bad thing. Not at all."
"...Not a bad thing. What do you mean?"
"I just found out how slow my sword is, didn't I? So this is actually a gain for me."
He looked as though he did not quite understand. All he had done was attack — and that had been a gain?
"Don't worry, and let's try once more. This time I'll either dodge, or at least not drop my wooden sword!"
She snatched up the wooden sword that had flown far away and took her place before him once more. Adel watched her.
What was this sensation — this faint tickle in his chest? It was something he had never felt before. Something strange and new.
"...If you put it that way, I will try once more."
And in that instant, something existed that Sien knew and Adel did not: that in his eyes, however faintly, a bright light had flickered for just a moment.