The Calamity Sword, Part 6 — Sirien Ilensia
News came first from the bastard named Millen. He was Crux's successor. His message said he had found my old comrades and told me to show up at the appointed time.
And on the day of the meeting, just as the sun was beginning to set, I decided to help Rajen put on his armor.
"I told you, I can put it on myself," Rajen said.
"I saw your shoulder guard slip off the last time you tried to do it alone. I'd rather help you myself than watch you wear it so clumsily. It gives me peace of mind."
"That was just a mistake."
"Who's to say you won't make another one? You've always lacked a bit of caution, Rajen."
Armor, by its very nature, was never meant to be donned alone. The set we had procured was no exception, and Rajen didn't keep a squire. On the battlefield, there would have been others to assist him, but now, with only me by his side, the duty naturally fell to me.
"How can I make you do something that's normally a squire's job?"
"What does that matter? You are my knight, so keeping you safe from harm is my duty too. Stop nagging and sit down right here."
"Ugh... I'm sorry. I'll treat you to something nice later."
"Is that a promise? I'm never going to let you forget it."
"Yeah."
Why did those few simple words make my heart swell with such motivation? I struggled to control my expression. Afraid he would catch me grinning like a fool, I quickly averted my eyes.
But my fluttering heart did not remain light for long. As I began fitting the armor onto his legs, the memories of the wounds Rajen had accumulated over the years began to resurface, one by one.
"Here. Give me your left foot first."
"Can't I at least do my feet myself?"
"Left foot."
"...Alright."
Burn scars marred both of Rajen's feet. Once these socks were removed, the reddish-brown scars would be laid bare. Looking back, it had been a battlefield where enemy magic rained down like a torrential storm. The very earth had melted, flowing in crimson streams like lava, and merely breathing felt as though it would incinerate our lungs.
We had to retreat from that scorching hellscape. Rajen had carried me on his back, striding fearlessly across the hellfire. By the time we successfully escaped, his boots—crafted from the hide of a magical beast—had completely melted away. Naturally, Rajen's feet could not have escaped unscathed. Even though I poured my divinity into him until I collapsed from exhaustion, the scars ultimately remained.
Those were all wounds meant for me.
Every wound Rajen bore was originally mine to carry. They were either injuries meant for me, or ones he would never have suffered had it not been for my existence. If he had flown far away from me, Rajen's life would have been infinitely more peaceful and comfortable. If he had, perhaps those hard, dense muscles of his would have softened a little. Though, that might have been a bit of a shame. He had such a magnificent body, after all.
A completely relaxed Rajen living in a quiet countryside... I couldn't quite picture it. Would he look like that if he gained just a little more weight on his face? ...Ah, that actually sounded rather cute. It would be so fun to pinch and stretch his cheeks. But no matter what he looked like, Rajen would always be Rajen to me.
"Pfft."
"Is there something on my calf?"
"No. It's nothing. Hehehe."
I couldn't hold back a giggle. I shouldn't be doing this. Focus, Sirien, focus. I tightened the leather straps of his leg guards and secured them with pins. Only after checking every single part to ensure nothing would wobble did I finally feel at ease. Rajen's movements in combat were incredibly fierce, so his armor had to be fitted with absolute precision.
"How does it feel? Is it too tight? Tell me if it's uncomfortable."
"No. It feels just right."
Rajen moved his feet a few times to test the fit. What a relief. I had only ever watched others do this from the corner of my eye, so I had been worried about whether I would get it right.
"You're surprisingly good at this. Did you learn how to do it somewhere?"
"It's not like this is the first time I've seen you in armor. I just watched closely because I thought... I thought a day might come when I'd get to do it for you."
"Why are you stuttering? That's not like you."
"Be quiet."
Even a Swordmaster's body was not invincible. No matter how outstanding Rajen's skills were, there was always a chance a stray blade or arrow might find its mark. This armor was something I had prepared specifically to protect him from such misfortunes. The steel plates of the armor were alloyed with Divine Silver—a rare metal with the highest affinity for conducting and storing divinity. While it wasn't pure or of the highest grade like the ones possessed by other religious orders, it was the absolute best we could obtain under our current circumstances. I suppose squeezing Baron Isquente dry had truly paid off.
I don't regret a single coin spent on you. If it can prevent even one scratch on your body, I would gladly throw away mountains of gold.
I had thoroughly infused this armor with my divinity. Because the divinity of Hibras was black, the armor had naturally been dyed a deep, dark hue. Though Rajen remained unaware, I had even carved Blood Runes on the inside of the plates using my own Holy Blood. I had truly poured everything I possibly could into this armor. While most of my holy arts were meant to bolster Rajen's abilities, the Blood Runes drawn with my Holy Blood were dedicated solely to his protection. As was the case with most inscriptions carved onto equipment, I didn't expect a miraculous effect. Still, I hoped it would offer him even a sliver of aid.
"How are the arms? Do they feel alright?"
"Just tie the part you're holding a bit tighter."
"Like this?"
"Yeah. Exactly like that."
On the day I carved those Blood Runes, I had been bedridden for a full day. It was only natural, as the process had drained my very life force. I had been reduced to sipping thin gruel in bed. Rajen had assumed I had simply caught a cold. But it was fine. I was willing to endure far worse for him. When he hurt, I hurt. If blood were to spill from his body, it felt as though tears of blood would stream from my own eyes. Falling ill for a single day was infinitely better than enduring that kind of pain.
"Now only the breastplate and the helmet are left."
"I'll put the helmet on myself."
"Alright. Stand up first. Let me fasten the breastplate."
Rajen's body... His chest and back were particularly riddled with scars. They were remnants of the time when I had been at my most powerless, before we ever reached the Sanctuary. There was nothing I could do about the scars that had already formed. The only thing I could do now was overlay those painful marks with beautiful, warm memories. I promise you. One day, I will make absolutely sure you never regret choosing me. And... it's about time you took a hint, you dummy.
"Sirien?"
After fastening his armor, I pressed a soft, gentle kiss to the nape of Rajen's neck. My face flushed hot with embarrassment, but I didn't dislike the feeling. In fact, the slight, burning warmth felt incredibly nice. A strange sense of lingering longing washed over me. Yet, sensing Rajen's utter bewilderment, a soft chuckle escaped my lips. Fearing he might turn around and look at me, I wrapped my arms around his head, holding him close and refusing to let go.
"I read in a fairy tale that when a knight goes off to battle, his lady sends him off like this."
"Actually, the knight is supposed to kiss the lady's hand."
"You already did that during your knighting ceremony."
"I can always do it again."
"Alright. Next time, I'll let you send me off that way."
I loved how Rajen always indulged my playful mischief. Fully clad in his armor, Rajen looked far more gallant and imposing than any of the knights I had ever seen in Leheim. Now that he wore his helmet, his face was completely hidden from view. If I were to kiss your helmet right now, would you finally understand how I feel?
The place Millen had designated for our meeting was tucked away in a quiet, secluded corner of Requitas's red-light district. It was the kind of desolate spot where someone could be murdered and their body would vanish without a trace. We were led into what appeared to be a long-abandoned restaurant. Our guide stole a glance at me.
"I didn't expect you to show up in full armor," the guide remarked.
"I figured I'd need it."
Inside the restaurant sat a single, massive table. Millen was nowhere to be seen. Had he been here, things would have been much simpler. But since he wasn't, I would just have to settle for wrapping up the business at hand.
"Need it, you say? I was told you only came to commission a job."
"If things go well here, I'll be leaving Requitas immediately, so I need to wear it. If things go poorly, I'll have to kill all of you, so I have no choice but to wear it."
"Well, I suppose that makes sense. Best of luck to you."
The man who had guided us nodded. His attitude oozed supreme confidence. It would be wonderful if he could maintain that majestic swagger until the very end. For now, I took a seat where indicated. Four men were already waiting on the opposite side of the table. No, with our guide, that made five. The last seat must have been reserved for him. The moment everyone was seated, the conversation began.
"No need for useless pleasantries. Let's hear the details of your request first."
"It's a job to kill a few noble brats. They botched whatever they were doing and are currently on the run."
"You don't know the exact number?"
"Four in total. You can kill them all. They have no escorts, so all you need to do is track them down and eliminate them. I will provide their location once you accept the job."
The moment I finished speaking, sinister smirks played on the men's lips. It was a look I knew all too well—expressions thoroughly corrupted by greed and raw desire. It was a repulsive sight. Yes, it must sound like an easy request. Killing a few children would be child's play to them. That was why they were accepting it without a moment's hesitation.
"Nothing else you want to ask?"
"Since you're asking us to kill defenseless children, 'how' we kill them is what matters. Isn't it better for us not to know too many details?"
"So you will ask no questions, and kill them without leaving a trace or a reason?"
"Oh, there is a reason. We're getting paid."
"Right. So that's how it is. I understand perfectly."
I rose from my seat. The only reason I had played along with this tedious farce, even for a brief moment, was to find out one thing. How did the transaction go when they tried to kill us in the past? Had anything changed even slightly this time around? It was a pointless worry.
"Sirien. My weapon, please."
Instead of a verbal reply, a massive greatsword materialized and fell beside me. It was my sword, which Sirien usually kept stored away. Sirien vanished into a dispersing shroud of black mist, and I gripped my hilt. The men before me let out heavy sighs as they, too, drew their respective weapons.
"Well, we figured it might turn out like this. Let us at least ask why. What kind of grudge do you hold against us?"
"Revenge."
"People really do find the most creative ways to commit suicide. Did you honestly think we came here unprepared?"
From all directions, cold blades surged toward me.