Long Time No See, Little Brother
Jecheon Sword Style, First Form — Transformation.
Choha.
Fiiit—!
A line of blood opened across the Lizard King's thigh.
It was a single strike that cut off the outward step the creature had been about to take. The Lizard King, robbed of its chance, let out a groan and fell back.
Not bad.
Leon smiled with quiet satisfaction.
Carving through the Lizard King had sharpened the technique considerably — both its proficiency and its completeness. At this level, it would serve him well in real combat later on.
Looks like the kids are finished too. Time to put this thing down.
Leon glanced around, then reversed his grip on the Heaven-Shattering Sword. He couldn't keep hanging on a single Lizard King forever.
Besides, the creature was spent. Its usefulness had run dry.
"……"
The Lizard King dragged in ragged breaths.
Its condition was wretched — a blood-soaked wreck with no unmarred flesh left on its body.
And yet, true to the title of king, its eyes still burned with fierce light. The spear tip it held level did not waver. On trembling legs, it somehow held its stance.
"Impressive."
Leon's smile deepened.
The creature's spirit moved him to genuine admiration. It outclassed most of the humans who called themselves warriors — and there were plenty of those lying around.
The crimson haze that had filled its eyes was gone. A final flare of life. In these last moments, its mind had returned to clarity.
"……Human. Your… name……"
The Lizard King felt the end of its life drawing near. Before it closed its eyes, it wanted to know the name of the one who would kill it.
Leon nodded. That much, he could grant.
He leaned forward and spoke.
"Leon……"
Pat—!
His form vanished, leaving only a faint afterimage.
"Crusif."
The final word reached the Lizard King's ear.
—Seogeok!
Its thick neck was half severed.
Scarlet blood poured out like a collapsing riverbank.
The Lizard King dropped its spear and sank to its knees in the same motion. Its head tipped back, gazing at the sky.
Clear blue. Harsh sunlight. A single scrap of drifting cloud settled in its eyes.
Thud!
That was the end.
"Hm."
Leon flicked the blood from his blade.
"The Orc Colony…… A little deeper in and I should find it."
This fight had been an appetizer of sorts. For that reason, Leon still had plenty of strength left in reserve.
The real prize was at the Orc Colony.
The Republic's Reconnaissance Bureau agents.
They were the ones who had orchestrated this horde.
Starting with the Orc King, they had brainwashed the colony chieftains throughout the Mashali Mountains and manufactured an artificial horde.
It was a fine scheme. The ones dying and the ones doing the killing were all monsters and Imperial citizens. So long as the Republic bore the cost of the brainwashing process, they lost nothing.
If it succeeded and inflicted some damage, good. If it failed, also fine. That was the whole calculation.
And it had looked like it might actually work, at least to a degree.
What kind of monsters run around doped up like that.
By now the cadets would be thoroughly rattled. Thanks to those strange black pills, the monsters were two, three times stronger than they should have been.
Naturally, from what he'd overheard earlier, the Academy hadn't anticipated a situation like this either.
Leon pulled out a cigarette and went looking for his companions.
"Guys, time to mo—"
Clank—
"……?"
Clank— Clank—
A strange presence, right nearby.
"……!"
Leon's eyes changed. His hand closed on his sword. Whatever this was had slipped deep into the range of his deployed senses without him noticing.
Clank— Clank—
And yet—
The man approaching him walked forward with open, unconcealed confidence, as if he had nothing to hide.
"Some vagrant……"
Leon tilted a brow.
No aura radiated from the man at all. But that was precisely what felt wrong.
Even without aura, you could usually gauge someone's level from their gait, posture, and breathing alone.
This was clearly no ordinary person — and yet Leon could read nothing. That only made him more wary.
His companions sensed something off about the man as well. They drew in close to Leon, openly on guard.
Carotin raised his sword and shouted.
"What business do you have alone in a place this dangerous? Identify yourself!"
"S-stay back! There's an Academy instructor nearby, you know!"
Liana pulled out her communicator and waved it.
Clank—
The man stopped walking and stood where he was.
"Everyone, calm yourselves. There is no need for alarm."
He raised a hand and swept back his tangled hair.
What emerged were calm, still crimson eyes.
"……Huh?"
Seeing the man's face, Leon tilted his head at a flicker of recognition.
"It's been a while."
The man looked at Leon and spoke.
"Little brother."
Afternoon.
"……"
Leon smoked with a dissatisfied look on his face.
If he had to put it into words, it was the expression of a child whose present had been snatched away.
Because—
— Wait…… So you're saying you took out the orcs and the humans there too? All of them? Every last one?
— That is correct.
Apparently the Orc Colony and the Reconnaissance Bureau agents had all been dealt with by Leon's older brother, Limon, who had appeared out of nowhere.
Even the reason for the slaughter was absurd.
They had simply caught his eye while he was passing through. There had been some addendum about chaos in the world and so on, but Leon hadn't paid much attention to that part.
Is he insane?
That was Leon's first thought upon hearing it.
How many orcs were in that place, and he just casually wiped them all out on the spot by himself?
Leon hadn't planned to fight them head-on either. He had been working out a more refined approach.
His memories of Limon were hazy, but—
At the very least, he was certain the man was a warrior of Hera's level or higher — never lower.
In any case.
Having lost his original objective, Leon returned to Elaim with Limon then and there.
He stashed Limon at an inn for a bit, went to the Academy to handle his report and other business, and came back.
Which brought them to the present.
Leon was waiting for Limon on the first floor of the inn, endlessly exhaling smoke toward a smoke-filtering scroll.
He lit a fresh cigarette and thought.
My brother shows up out of nowhere.
Limon Crusif.
Eldest son of the Crusif family. In other words, Leon's oldest brother — his big brother.
Seven years ago he had left the family and become a wandering knight, claiming he wanted to travel the world in search of his own purpose.
This guy's not normal either.
The fact that a ducal family's eldest son had become a wandering knight already marked him as an unusual character. Leon wondered what on earth Duke Locke had been thinking when he allowed it.
Wandering knights.
They had no lord and no proper residence. Unaffiliated. Free.
Knights who roamed the continent upholding justice and chivalry…… — that was the flattering way of putting it.
Put unkindly, the list went on forever. Vagrants. Ronin. Armed bandits. Ruffians. Thieves wearing a knight's shell……
Those ugly reputations existed because of a handful of genuinely rotten wandering knights.
In truth, the profession itself was extremely fluid and ambiguous.
No one supervised them on a regular basis. Unlike holy knights, they didn't serve a god. Everything was left to each man's conscience and sense of honor.
Anyone roaming the continent alone already possessed above-average martial power. No companions or colleagues to keep them in check.
So as long as you cleaned up the witnesses properly, you could commit any evil you liked — freeloading, theft, murder and robbery, the works.
In other words, it was easy to turn criminal. Even if word got out, you could always just drop the wandering knight title whenever you needed to.
But Limon was not one of those men.
He was a renowned wandering knight whose fame spanned the entire continent.
In seven years of activity he had built achievements and reputation across the whole land. A few of his major exploits were things even Leon had heard of at least once.
His name carried weight from his formidable martial skill, of course, and the Crusif backing didn't hurt —
But the greatest factor was surely his upright character, his unwavering adherence to chivalry and principle.
Across seven full years of righteous wandering, not a single blemish or ugly rumor had surfaced. Those he had helped never tired of praising his noble character.
Limon was a celebrated figure welcomed wherever he went.
Even now, the street outside the inn swarmed with people who had gathered just for a glimpse of him. Plenty of Academy cadets among them.
In the short stretch from the city gate to the inn, countless people had recognized Limon.
Leon had found the noise unbearable and driven them all off, so things were relatively quiet for the moment. Without that, the inn would have been pure chaos by now.
Thud— Thud—
Footsteps came down the stairs. Limon must have taken off that antique-looking armor; there was no clanking.
Freshly washed, Limon cut a striking figure.
Tall and lean. Glossy black hair hung loose around his shoulders.
The grimy, soot-stained face had become that of a clean, handsome young man.
Yeah, the blood shows, all right.
In his features Leon could catch faint traces of himself, of Duke Locke, of Lady Elliot.
Leon nodded and pointed to the chair across from him.
"Brother. Please, sit."
"Very well."
It was time to hear what business had brought the illustrious wandering knight to their door.