Trial for Newbies (3)
The background shifted once more, revealing a fierce battlefield. The Windsor Knights were locked in a desperate struggle against hordes of descending monsters.
"Report the current situation!" Edward bellowed, roughly severing an ogre's neck with his blade.
"Something's off! Our swords aren't cutting right!"
"It's Sally's law," Sisilia said.
"Yeah." Edward replied lowly to Sisilia's words.
"Back then, I misjudged. I didn't realize Sally had stolen enough luck far quicker than anticipated. Her luck had grown strong enough to devour the Windsor Knights' fortune."
"There wasn't time to figure that out."
Sisilia nodded slightly, then tilted her head in puzzlement. "But why try to handle all those monsters with just the Windsor Knights?"
The monsters outnumbered what seven Windsor Knights could manage. Even by rough estimate, there were over 500. And they weren't weaklings—the weakest-looking ones were ogres.
"...The territory's soldiers, stripped of their luck, would fall easily. If most died in battle, Gartan Territory would lose its right to self-defense. That was my thinking."
"You hoped they'd muster the strength to protect themselves. But, Vice-Captain." Kitty-like Sisilia said coldly, "If they lose it here, then that's all they ever amounted to from the start."
Edward chuckled and patted Sisilia's head. "You get it, don't you? Impressive."
"Can't see it. Hug me."
"Alright."
Edward scooped her up, securing her view. Hanging from his neck, Sisilia peered ahead with a face full of delight.
The background shifted again. The Windsor Knights were returning after the battle, their expressions grim.
Sisilia's eyes caught one knight. "...He lost an arm."
"Unfortunate."
Edward murmured lowly. Sisilia stared at him intently, a mix of emotions stirring. But no regret.
'Then when does he regret it?'
The trial had progressed quite far. Yet Edward still felt no remorse.
Edward's memory continued.
"Murderer!" Thwack!
Someone hurled a stone at the returning Windsor Knights. The struck knight clutched his bleeding forehead.
"You! Because of you, my son is dead!"
He was a fruit vendor. His son had tripped on the road that night during the battle, cracked his head on a rock, and died. A tragic accident. And such misfortunes struck others simultaneously.
"This is the price for provoking Sally!"
"Why rile up Lady Sally if you can't even kill her!"
"No one died before you came!"
"We were just a bit unlucky—that was fine... Why come and stir things up!"
A torrent of resentment and blame poured out. The Windsor Knights walked the streets stone-faced. They said nothing until reaching the inn, finally speaking only upon arrival.
"Man, I didn't know bad luck could make battles this rough."
"Murphy, you bastard, isn't your sword too dull now?"
The Windsor Knights joked in forced bright tones. If they stopped talking, the noise would flood in. But one knight, unable to hold back, flung open the window. Outside the inn, crowds gathered, hurling abuse.
"Vice-Captain. Do we really have to protect these people?"
Murphy, who had lost an arm, muttered blankly.
"I don't know."
Edward's lips twitched. Cursing them wouldn't regrow Murphy's arm.
"...Rest."
Murphy had lost an arm and his luck in that battle. Edward decided to bench him from combat. But from then on, a small doubt sprouted in Edward's heart.
The lives of Gartan Territory's luck-stripped soldiers—and Murphy Windsor, who lost an arm. Which held more value?
"I desperately tried to shake off that doubt. It wasn't a thought befitting a Windsor Knight... or a royal."
Edward suppressed the faint ripple in his mind. Seeing Edward tormented sleeplessly at night, Sisilia murmured softly.
"...Insomnia too, huh."
Edward, looking bitter, stared at Sisilia's curt assessment with a dumbfounded expression.
"Do you even have a heart?"
"Rude. Pet me now, or no help."
Sisilia turned away, pretending to sulk. Edward chuckled at the familiar pout—Sisilia from 10 years ago often acted this way. Back then, he would...
"I'd be in real trouble without your help, Sisilia. Forgive me?"
...coax her like that.
Sisilia pointed at Edward, who smiled kindly. "Vice-Captain, you smiled."
"..."
"See? I'm so cute, you can't help it. Cured your depression—Nobel Prize time."
Sisilia muttered nonsense, smug with herself. But that was Sisilia too. Edward just smiled silently and stroked her head.
"So, your regret—is it over making Murphy lose his arm?"
"No. That would insult Murphy."
With Edward's denial, the scene shifted again.
"You weren't a knight meant to die here."
Past Edward wept hot tears. This time, Sisilia wore a sad expression too, kneeling by the peacefully sleeping Murphy and stroking his face.
"Murphy was one of my favorite knights."
"..."
"Why did he die?"
"By morning, his breathing had stopped. Fool hid his condition."
Current Edward's face was impassive. But past Edward's eyes bled red with burst vessels. He glared at the stone mark on Murphy's head.
'Cerebral hemorrhage.'
Sisilia's eyes darkened. No matter how exhausted, a Windsor Knight wouldn't fail to dodge a civilian's stone. Likely brain damage from battle. Reduced balance and reflexes from hemorrhage led to the hit—and that fatal blow killed him.
"Murphy Windsor, rest here."
Sisilia, watching quietly, invoked her Aura. A warm spring breeze scattered like a blessing over Murphy. Whether coincidence or her intervention—in Murphy's simple funeral, flowers truly fluttered.
Edward smiled wryly. "Why couldn't I see this beautiful scene back then?"
He reached into the air for a petal but grasped nothing.
"You watched, didn't you, Sisilia? You're the prankster of all, yet grieve our losses deepest."
Sisilia didn't answer. She just mourned Murphy's death, caressing the gravestone.
"Thus, we offer condolences. Murphy Windsor's name, who died for Gartan, shall be eternally recorded on this land."
Count Gartan offered sincere comfort. Edward shook his head.
"Murphy will return with us when the mission ends. Recording him here—"
Edward's gaze sharpened.
"—is an insult to him."
"Can't blame you, after that spectacle. But—"
Count Gartan prayed briefly, stood, and placed a hand on Edward's shoulder.
"Don't misdirect your hatred, Sir Edward. This all stems from misfortune. Brought by that demon, Sally."
"Unavoidable, right? Yeah, unavoidable."
But it was Murphy's call—for the Windsor Knights to judge. Not some perfect third party's words, absent from the process.
No territory folk visited to mourn the sacrificed Murphy afterward. They just fled, dodging responsibility to the end.
Then, an uncontrollable question bloomed in Edward's heart.
-The lives of everyone in this territory.
-And one life: Murphy Windsor's.
-Which holds more value?
"I feel strong hatred."
"..."
"Is this the point of your regret, Vice-Captain?"
The scene changed again. Edward and Sisilia faced each other. But their worlds differed starkly. Edward's was ashen gray. Sisilia's endlessly bright.
"Here, you made one choice."
"Yes."
"To place the luck-stripped folk of Gartan Territory at the front—to catch Sally."
"The only way to subjugate Sally without Windsor losses."
"Without Windsor losses, you say."
"Can't lose another Windsor here. Even if it costs the whole territory—one knight's life outweighs them."
Sally's source was the luck-stolen—the unlucky ones. Their deaths in battle would erode her luck.
"But that's a contradiction, Vice-Captain Edward."
Sisilia approached. Staring up intently, she grasped his hem—Edward's world bloomed colorful again.
"If you meant to protect Windsor, choose that from the start. Don't let Murphy die. This breaks cohesion."
Edward quietly removed her hand. Stepped back.
"Sisilia."
Sisilia fidgeted as her world grayed again, then sighed softly.
"My world has always been gray."
"I've denied it, lived on."
"But then, for the first time, I realized."
"Maybe the gray world is right."
"Murphy showed me that. I'll stay this way. But—"
Edward grinned. "Someday, I'll paint your world gray too."
"Third trial."
Sisilia closed her eyes, then slowly opened them.
"Correct the regret."
"..."
"That's the final trial's content."
The climax rushed in. Before the Windsor Knights and Gartan soldiers. Having located Sally, he faced the final showdown: the Sally Subjugation Battle.
"What do you think?"
"You already know the answer, Vice-Captain."
The ideal solution presented itself.
"I see."
In that instant, the non-interfering world watched.
"Sir, withdraw. That plan kills Sally, but devastates the territory folk. That misses the point."
Count Gartan pleaded earnestly. But Edward didn't glance his way. Eyes blazing solely at Sisilia.
"I don't regret this choice."
"Even if wrong, I'll bear it fully."
"And prove it right in the end."
Trial concluded.
Sisilia's lips didn't move. Yet her voice rang clearly in Edward's mind.
This conversation won't reach others. I'll keep your devious heart to myself.
'...Cancel "devious." More importantly, how?'
It's my whim. I get to be capricious.
'Aren't you just a replica from my memories?'
Remember this.
'Don't dodge. How can a mere replica like you...'
I'm cute. And—lovable.
"..."
Edward glared silently at Sisilia. She gazed back with a faint smile, somehow profoundly wistful.
As the trial ended, Sisilia's small form shattered like morning sunlight.
Edward hurriedly asked. "What do you think of my decision?"
Vanishing, Sisilia gave a thumbs-up.
"Excellent."
Sisilia vanished. Edward stared blankly at the empty spot awhile. He looked around.
The dark temple corridor greeted him. Back to reality.
"..."
A dreamlike haze clung. Footsteps echoing, he bent down.
"This is..."
It's a gift.
In messy handwriting, just like child Sisilia's.
"..."
Edward pocketed it first.