Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: To the Cradle of Stars (1)
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Bok was stunned.
A boy he'd met while asking for directions to the guild had suddenly started a fight, and Esquire Yan had challenged him to a duel.
Everything was so sudden.
It was like a bolt from the blue; that was exactly how Bok felt right now.
But no matter how great his bewilderment, could it compare to the boy who had been so abruptly challenged?
The boy, clutching his bright red, swollen cheek, had eyes full of shock.
Looking at the boy, who seemed half dazed, Bok suddenly wondered.
Was a duel challenge always this brutal?
Was it common practice to just slap someone across the face with a combat gauntlet reinforced with steel plates?
At this rate, it wouldn't be strange to lose a few teeth before the duel even began.
“Huh? My tooth.”
Sure enough, the boy let out a bewildered sound as he wiped away the blood trickling from between his battered teeth.
Bok squeezed his eyes shut.
Even at a glance, the boy had clearly been raised in wealth.
Well-kept hair, clean skin.
There were no special crests or marks, but one could tell from the fabric of his clothes alone that his background was anything but ordinary.
That was why Bok hadn't been able to react immediately when the boy started picking a fight over something ridiculous.
Belatedly, he had tried to explain that he was a mercenary on a guild request, part of the group traveling with the crown prince's procession.
But before he could resolve the situation, Esquire Yan had stepped in.
And in an incredibly aggressive manner.
Bok's mind raced.
The Esquire Yan he knew was a person of incomparable depth for his age.
On the surface, he was nothing more than an innocent child, but inside, he was as cunning as ten sly serpents.
Escalating things so thoughtlessly wasn't the way of the Esquire Yan he knew.
No, was that really true?
Bok recalled the moment he first met Esquire Yan.
He had beaten Garon to a pulp without a second thought for his clumsy lecture.
It was more like his body had reacted before his mind could process it.
There had been countless other similar incidents.
When they were helping the refugees escape, it was Esquire Yan who had thrown away the plan he'd made and stayed behind alone to fight for his life.
Bok grew confused.
Looking back now, he could no longer trust his own judgment that Esquire Yan was a cautious and calculating person.
Even though a little thought revealed so many incidents that pointed to Esquire Yan's aggressive and impulsive nature.
There must have been a reason why Knight Gunther had repeatedly told him not to cause trouble.
Bok had dismissed Knight Gunther's concerns as affection, or perhaps overprotectiveness, for his squire.
It was a rash judgment.
And as a price for that rash judgment.
“Bok, I'll have you serve as the witness for this duel, since you're here.”
He had become the witness to a sudden duel.
He shot a look at Garon.
*Why, what?*
But Garon, who was always a bit clueless, not only failed to catch his meaning but also looked thoroughly excited about the impending duel.
*Thwack.*
Bok kicked Garon in the rear and whispered an order.
To go back immediately and bring Knight Gunther or anyone else.
So that he wouldn't actually be left as the witness to this sudden duel.
“He's obviously from a rich family. This could get out of hand. Go get anyone, I don't care who.”
Finally grasping the situation, Garon scrambled away.
“Where did the person who accepted the challenge go?”
“Aren't you a squire? You don't even know the basics.”
“You're supposed to state your name first.”
All the while, Esquire Yan was relentlessly provoking his opponent.
His expression and tone were so infuriating that even Bok, a third party, felt his blood boil.
It was only natural that the boy himself would see red.
“Guillaume. I serve Knight Haitrin.”
Hearing the words from the boy with the swollen cheek, Bok thought he'd done the right thing by sending Garon off first.
A boy who looked so well-off was definitely not the squire of a wandering free knight.
This meant the boy named Guillaume was likely from one of the many martial families established in Sodion.
*Grit.*
Guillaume gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist as if he would draw it at any moment.
“So you've chosen the sword.”
Esquire Yan grinned and reached for his own waist.
*Fumble, fumble.*
“Huh?”
Belatedly noticing his empty waist, Esquire Yan frowned.
“Here, use my sword.”
Unable to just watch any longer, Bok unbuckled his sword and offered it.
“A witness isn't supposed to take sides like that. Don't you know that?”
But Esquire Yan didn't accept it.
Bok was dumbfounded.
It wasn't like he wanted to be the witness.
He was the one who forced the role on me.
“I've just changed my mind.”
“If you're trying to retract your challenge now, I won't accept—”
“I'll use this.”
Esquire Yan casually unstrapped the shield he was carrying on his back.
“I feel like I won't be able to stop if I use a sword.”
*What does he plan to do with just a shield and no sword?*
Thinking he was being mocked, Guillaume's face twisted into a demonic scowl.
“What's going on?”
“What are they doing in the middle of the street?”
“I don't know. Looks like they're about to fight.”
In the meantime, onlookers noticed the commotion and began to gather.
“It's a duel!”
“A duel has broken out!”
“A fight!”
The crowd drew more of a crowd.
“Whoa! A fight!”
Before long, the number of spectators had grown enough to fill the street.
“So when's it starting?”
“Should be soon.”
The onlookers' gazes turned to Bok.
“If you're stalling for that brat, I swear on my name, you'll regret it.”
“Bok. I told you, a witness can't take sides. Just start.”
Pressured by the two boys, Bok's face crumpled.
Inwardly, he called out his old companion's name.
*Garon, you bastard. Please hurry up.*
*I'm going to die here.*
***
“What is it?”
And at that moment, Garon, on his way to get Gunther, encountered an unexpected person.
“Knight Lucas!”
It was Lucas, the crown prince's closest court knight.
After a moment's hesitation, Garon remembered Bok's request.
He had said to bring any knight.
And the man before him, Lucas, was a knight.
“Well, this and that happened, and so…”
He quickly explained the situation.
But Lucas showed little reaction.
*I guess we haven't built up that much loyalty or camaraderie yet.*
Just as Garon was about to leave to find someone else.
“Lead the way.”
Lucas, who had been silent, spoke.
Garon's face lit up, and he immediately turned around.
Unaware of the expression on the court knight's face behind him.
*Perfect.*
Lucas thought, watching the mercenary's back.
The boy named Yan had been getting on his nerves anyway.
He couldn't stand the way the boy stuck close to His Highness, fawning over him, and wondered what sweet words he'd used to win him over.
He was concerned that the wise crown prince's judgment seemed to cloud whenever it came to that boy.
To think he would antagonize Navian, one of the greatest knights of the era and the head of House Gaznae, just to take in a boy of unknown origin.
The head of House Gaznae was not someone to make an enemy of, but a figure to be won over at all costs.
It wasn't just because of her personal martial prowess.
House Gaznae was the practical master of Sodion, the Empire's armory.
Making an enemy of them over a single young squire, who wasn't even a knight, had to be avoided.
“The reason for the duel?”
“Well, I'm not too sure myself, sir. He just threw down the gauntlet out of nowhere…”
“Some pathetic desire for fame, is it?”
“Sir?”
Lucas didn't speak again, despite the mercenary's question.
He simply smiled to himself, pleased.
This was a good opportunity.
If the reason for the duel was unjust, he could hold the boy responsible for causing unnecessary trouble.
It might have been different at another time, but not while they were escorting His Highness the Crown Prince.
Lucas intended to use this incident as an opportunity to remove the boy from the crown prince's side.
Having made his resolve, Lucas saw the crowd.
“Heard he was hanging around the guild again.”
“Tsk. Poor kid. So small. Another promising future about to be ruined.”
“But he's holding up pretty well this time, isn't he?”
Pushing through the excitedly chattering crowd, Lucas's eyes widened.
*CRASH!*
A boy he'd never seen before was fiercely swinging a greatsword.
He showed no sign of struggling to handle the greatsword, which was as tall as he was.
It meant he truly understood and controlled the weapon's weight.
It was clear, even at a glance, that he had been properly taught.
It was a rare proficiency for his age.
But it wasn't enough to surprise Lucas.
Anyone could achieve that level of skill after training for a certain period under a proper master.
What was truly astonishing was not the boy with the greatsword, but the child standing before him.
*CRACK!*
The small child standing there—the one named Yan, whom he had intended to remove from the crown prince's side.
“Huh? Huh? It's gonna break! It's gonna break! It's breaking!”
“Whoa. It didn't break!”
It was truly amazing to see him skillfully blocking the greatsword with a shield that looked far too light to stop such a heavy blow.
“How is he blocking that huge sword so well with that little shield?”
“Shouldn't either the shield or his wrist break, normally?”
“Still, how long can he last?”
At the crowd's words, Lucas unconsciously shook his head.
He could guarantee that the boy's shield would never break.
“Is Esquire Guillaume holding back?”
“Don't be silly. How many people has Esquire Guillaume ruined?”
“True, he's not the type.”
It didn't take long for the crowd to realize the truth.
He wasn't just blindly blocking the greatsword with his shield.
The boy was deflecting every one of his opponent's strikes.
Not only that, but he was also using the weight of the attacks to throw his opponent off balance.
This was not a level one could reach with just a day or two of practice.
It was a state achievable only through bone-grinding training combined with at least some real combat experience.
But if that were all, Lucas would have been merely impressed, not this astonished.
His footwork, moving steadily as if an invisible axis were behind his back.
His feet, barely leaving the ground.
All were movements designed to protect someone in a specific environment.
They were incredibly familiar to him.
It was only natural.
That was…
“The Imperial Guard…!”
…because those were the movements he had practiced every day until his hands blistered, before he became a court knight.
The Imperial Guard.
The elite group that protects the imperial family.
A mandatory step to becoming a court knight.
Lucas, too, had once been a member of the Imperial Guard.
“How in the world…?”
Lucas couldn't help but exclaim.
His purpose for coming here—his plan to use this opportunity to oust the cunning child who clung to the crown prince's side like a silver-tongued sycophant—had long since vanished from his mind.
***
“Haaah!”
The furious bastard kept slamming his greatsword down.
*CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!*
I continued to deflect his attacks.
As I did, my heated head naturally began to cool.
My grudge against the bastard who had crippled me was certainly deep.
But when I thought about it, that was an event from my past life.
It was merely something that hadn't happened in this life.
Right now, there was no history of favor or grudge between us.
And yet, the moment I saw him, I had lost my temper.
It was unlike me.
His stamina depleted, the bastard retreated, panting.
“Ah.”
As I stared at him, a forgotten memory belatedly surfaced.
*‘Master! A city! It's a city!’*
*‘Don't run, you brat! You'll bump into someone and get hurt!’*
*‘Bump into someone? I can dodge just fine… Ack!’*
It was a memory of a certain squire's carelessness upon visiting a proper city for the first time in his life.
*‘A duel.’*
*‘This squire… he doesn't even know the basics.’*
*‘I asked for your name.’*
It was a memory of a punishment far too harsh for such a minor carelessness.
*‘The match is already over. Please show mercy.’*
*‘Master, what should I do? He's asking for mercy.’*
*‘A squire's fault is his master's fault. It is only right for the master to kneel and apologize.’*
It was a memory of someone who had to endure humiliation for the sake of his squire, who was screaming and clutching his crushed leg.
“Now I remember.”
Why I had been so unable to control my anger.
My anger was directed at him, but also at someone else.
The immature child who, instead of being grateful to the knight who had endured humiliation, had showered him with resentment and condemnation.
“He didn't abandon me. I abandoned him.”
It was anger toward my immature and selfish past self.
My past mistakes, which I had chosen to forget out of shame, began to be dragged out one by one from the depths of my memory.
At the same time, my unusually hazy memories from this period became clear.
“What nonsense have you been spouting…!”
The bastard, having recovered some stamina, shouted as he aimed his greatsword.
I spoke to him.
I, who had returned to the past only to chase my dream blindly like a racehorse with blinders on.
Had finally resolved to open my eyes wide and see the world.
“First, atonement.”
To do that, I first had to repay my debts of the heart.
Whether they were good or bad.