Chapter 38
Chapter 38
Where had the momentum gone that had allowed him to frown before his king?
The knight staggered backward, his appearance closer to despair than anything else.
'I... someone like me...'
Because he was different from them.
While his king and fellow retainers had bled and fallen beneath the blades of traitors, had he not spent his days enjoying a peaceful retirement?
He had no right to stand shoulder to shoulder with them.
He felt ashamed of himself for having walked proudly after protecting his lord's child.
Considering the circumstances and comparing it to the achievements of his prime, it was not even that remarkable of a feat.
Perhaps there was a reason they had suddenly appeared.
Perhaps they had come to reprimand an old companion who had forgotten his place.
At least, that was how Sir Lekun understood it.
"Y-Your Majesty."
Now that he thought about it, trying to stand alongside them simply because he had died was the height of disrespect.
It was only natural for his old companions to be angry.
"...I failed to stand beside you that day."
The moment he acknowledged it, a crushing weight pressed down upon his chest.
"Since that day, I have not truly lived. Merely being alive felt like a sin..."
He wanted to atone somehow.
He wanted comfort through a belated oath.
But perhaps even that would not be permitted.
Because the silence of his lord and companions seemed to say the same thing.
You are not worthy of crossing this door with us.
"..."
After the old knight fell silent, only stillness remained.
But silence was not the only thing that settled over him.
He was forced to bear a despair so deep that he could not even glimpse its end.
Then where was he supposed to go?
If there was no place for him among the living and no place for him among the dead...
The knight lowered his head, almost sobbing.
Yet the silence did not last long.
Calm, gentle footsteps echoed through the space.
Someone was approaching him.
Someone who intended to save a man drowning in guilt.
< ...Lekun. >
At that moment, a scar-covered hand rested upon his shoulder.
The knight reflexively opened his eyes.
His king's face filled his vision.
There was not a trace of resentment.
Not even the slightest anger.
Only sympathy, understanding, and affection for an old younger brother.
< Are you still my sword? >
"...Of course, Your Majesty."
The old knight nodded immediately.
Even if his lord had become disappointed in him, the oath he had sworn as a child remained unchanged.
< I appreciate the answer. But that is not the answer I wanted. >
His lord slowly shook his head.
The gesture stabbed into the old man's heart like a blade.
< You are far too precious to me to be called merely a sword. >
Then a warm hand patted his back.
The comforting touch instantly pulled that blade from his chest.
< In fact, I was grateful that neither you nor Selene were there. No one wishes to witness the death of their family. I am no different. >
Like all who carried the blood of rulers, the king possessed an imposing frame.
Remembering the days when the knight had been just a little boy, he wrapped him easily within those broad shoulders.
The familiar kindness stirred an indescribable nostalgia within Sir Lekun.
< Therefore, this is not where you belong. >
He had often been comforted this way as a child whenever he cried after being looked down upon for being an orphan.
< If my words about Selene upset you, then I apologize. But I did not bring them up without reason. >
The black-haired man smiled bitterly.
Though the vassal before him had once been much younger, seeing such an aged face cycling through so many emotions was painful to watch.
< Including you, I have many swords. Admittedly, you may be the sharpest blade among them, but you are not the only one. >
That was true.
Among the knights who had once protected the king, there were others who could stand alongside Sir Lekun.
< But Selene only has one husband. The same applies to your children. And those orphans who became your retainers likely feel no differently. >
In the territory now ruled by his son, Sir Lekun was not merely important.
He was irreplaceable.
And so the king had made a decision.
He would abandon his own selfish desires and let go of the knight he cherished most.
< Then is the answer not obvious? The place where you belong? >
"..."
Had dozens of minutes passed?
Once those words were spoken, the king slowly rose to his feet.
A throne had appeared behind him before anyone noticed, and he sat upon it with a peaceful smile.
< Raise your head. >
Only after obeying his lord's command did the old knight finally see everyone's faces clearly.
It was not only his king who looked upon him with affection.
Even those who had often clashed with him due to their tempers or differing ideals did not reject him.
Only then did Lekun Lucester realize the truth.
Everyone here had been waiting for this foolish old knight.
< It is not a bad place. Aside from a certain wife who never stops nagging... there is very little to worry about, so the mind becomes quite clear. >
The great king smiled as boldly as he had during life.
He simply wanted his stubborn knight to put down some of the burden weighing on his heart.
< And with so many stubborn fools who resemble you around, loneliness is not much of a problem either. >
His lord and old companions had waited for him with such affection.
It was a kindness far too great for a mere knight to monopolize.
< ...So, little one. This is my final order. >
Yet it was not an unreasonable request.
< Stop dwelling on those who have already passed, and live in the present. >
Despite calling him merely one sword among many—
< And there is no need to rush our reunion. >
To Raden von Bellark...
< I will remain here and wait for my younger brother, regardless of blood, for as long as it takes. >
Lekun Lucester was the only person he could truly call brother.
The old knight, covered in blood and wounds, slowly forced his eyes open.
The first thing he saw was a blonde elf.
"...My love."
A face he had never forgotten.
A face so beautiful that not even death could erase it from his memory.
Selene Lucester.
Judging by her pouting lips, she seemed angry.
Or perhaps grateful.
But one thing was certain.
Overwhelmed by emotion, she could do nothing but stare at her husband.
The knight felt a pang in his heart as he looked at her face.
Tears and mucus stained her cheeks from her eyes all the way to her chin.
Seeing such a beautiful woman crying because of an old fool like him left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Yet within those eyes lay love that had finally reached the end of its waiting.
And before long, that love transformed into indescribable joy.
"Sir Lekun..."
Standing beside her was a man who had grown so much that he was nearly unrecognizable.
The knight had placed a sword in his hands as a child.
He had taught him manners.
At times, he had even scolded him harshly.
They often disagreed, but there had never been any doubt that this young man was the sole bloodline he had sworn to serve.
What emotions were choking him so badly?
The normally composed young lord was shedding tears without end.
Yet strangely, the sight did not feel unpleasant.
Smiling while feeding on his lord's tears would ordinarily be shameful.
But this young man was kinder than anyone.
Surely he would forgive him this much.
"Hoo..."
The old knight slowly drew a breath.
A breath taken with the intent to live.
Soon, the weak beating of his heart began to grow stronger.
The gray eyes that had lost their light gradually regained their color.
Then he noticed it.
A tiny pair of hands was tightly clutching his left hand.
"Waaaah! Hic! Waaaah!"
The little brat was crying her eyes out.
As though her hands possessed healing powers, she gripped him with both trembling hands.
She had apparently been holding on for so long that sweat had accumulated between them.
'...'
At least his wife was beautiful.
This peanut-sized troublemaker was simply noisy.
Remembering how she always tried to act like an adult made the sight rather amusing.
'...Little one.'
But the moment he looked beyond the girl's tears, he felt a strange excitement stir within him.
Beyond the brown-haired girl, he saw another image.
A young boy.
His own younger self.
The orphan child who had once been saved by a black-haired man long ago.
He felt as though he understood exactly what that child was experiencing.
The overwhelming sensation that made one's heart feel ready to burst.
A feeling too profound to be explained by affection or fondness alone.
And then the old knight understood.
The emotion that came from encountering a guiding star in one's life.
The feeling he had experienced when he first met his lord as a child.
The brown-haired little girl was looking at him with that same feeling.
'Heh...'
Then perhaps it was enough.
His life had not been meaningless.
Though he had failed to remain beside his former lord in the end, another life had been born because of it.
A life worth continuing.
A life not ready to end.
In his right hand was his beloved wife.
In his left was his mischievous disciple.
Before him stood the young lord he cherished with all his heart.
And beyond the doorway, the members of the household cried endlessly.
Looking upon all of them, the old knight became certain.
At this very moment, receiving the affection of everyone around him—
Even compared to the glorious days when he had served beneath a great ruler, held the title of Count, and basked in countless honors...
'My lord...'
Even compared to an emperor buried beneath gold and jewels while wielding absolute power...
'Perhaps returning was not such a bad thing after all.'
He felt no regret whatsoever.