The Knight's Song (3)
Count Armance’s words still echoed in the air.
“I saw a blessing in you, as if it were already yours.”
Lancelot’s voice came out heavy, almost reluctant.
Blessing.
That was exactly the word he had used.
In Silvering, nearly every human was born with a talent. Of course, some talents appeared later in life, or awakened after years of insight and rose one rank higher.
And yet.
As Lancelot had already explained, he carried two prime talents—**Sword God** and **Prodigy**—along with a few minor negative ones: **Grief** and **Insomnia**.
‘But no one ever calls debuffs “blessings.”’
From that alone I could tell his talents were remarkably clean. High-grade blessings paired with only mild debuffs. The result, logically, would be talent and effort combined to grant the ultimate knightly honor: the title of Sword Master.
“Correct.”
I met his gaze straight on and answered shortly.
Here, everyone who made a name for themselves had been born with a blessing. No need to hide it.
“True enough. When you wiped out that orc village alone, I already suspected.”
Lancelot’s face remained grim.
“Frey of the Oak Mercenary Corps. You awakened your blessing… after being captured by the orcs, right?”
“Exactly. I passed out, woke up, and noticed something was off.”
“Hmm.”
“Why? Did something go wrong?”
“Nothing. Just… curiosity.”
He fell silent again and started on another potato.
I had already finished eating. Now I watched him with fresh eyes. His character was so rigid that even the act of eating looked somehow locked in.
“I carry two blessings. I don’t know exactly what yours awakened, but at least I can feel ‘Truth’ and ‘Information.’ Those two seem certain.”
Lancelot chewed loudly and swallowed.
“Besides, my surname is Armance. I’m the illegitimate son of the famous Armance Count family. That’s who I am. The surname ‘Aram’… I’ve already forgotten it. It was my mother’s maiden name when we parted as children.”
He muttered the rest so quietly I almost missed it.
‘…I never imagined I’d learn the truth of my birth right here.’
Sword Master Lancelot was the very textbook example of a wandering knight—meals on the road, discipline, and chivalric ideals. His personality screamed knightly honor.
Who would have guessed he hid such a birth secret? The only clue I had was that future Lancelot would use the surname “Armance” instead of “Aram.”
“…So I need your help.”
“Help?”
The conversation had taken an abrupt turn.
Lancelot was the captain of the knight order, so he was probably still in the early stages of the main storyline. High nobles were about to push him hard. Yet here he was asking a nameless mercenary to lend a hand?
“…”
Lancelot stared at me with an unreadable face.
I understood the question: *Will you help or not?*
“First, tell me. If it’s too ridiculous, I won’t do it.”
“That’s fair. You have no obligation to help.”
Even after I warned him, Lancelot nodded. Then, as if remembering a distant past, he looked up at the night sky… or rather, the ceiling of the tent.
“From what I can tell, one of your blessings lets you see through truth. So I want information.”
“Information? What kind?”
“When I was young, I lived in this region where the knight order is stationed. That’s why—”
His voice trailed off. He poked at a potato with the fork instead.
Was it hard to say? I waited patiently.
“With your help, I want to find… the mother I left behind as a child.”
He squeezed the words out with obvious difficulty.
‘…Find her mother?’
The power of Truth was one thing. My Information talent had nothing to do with it. In fact, in Silvering there was no such talent at all.
But.
For some reason, I felt I could grant his request. The reason was simple. One location kept flashing in my mind—the place that sat at the northern edge of the Empire.
.
.
.
**[Hidden Street - Coastal Cliff Tomb]**
A grave built atop the cliffs where white waves crashed against the rocks. The buried person’s name was unknown, but a rusty sword stood upright before the stone.
The word “no way” spun inside me and vanished.
This was one of my favorite spots.
…Not because I loved the atmosphere or background music. I simply took the sword to a merchant and got a good price.
“So, Lancelot. This village you grew up in—where exactly?”
“It’s not a village. Fortress City Roben. That’s where I lived before joining the Armance family.”
“…”
The probability was high. No, certain. Coastal Cliff Tomb. And the sword in front of it.
‘…That sword belonged to him?’
Hidden Street - Coastal Cliff Tomb lay near Fortress City Roben, as Lancelot had said. Thirty minutes’ walk from Roben would bring you to the cliff-top grave.
‘She might not even be a ghost yet.’
I didn’t know the exact date the tomb was built. If his mother was still alive, I could find her in Roben.
“Armance and Aram. You do have a deep story.”
“It might be deep. Or it might not. My father was the previous head of the Armance family. He’s already passed.”
“So the current head placed you in the knight order?”
Lancelot gave a bitter smile and nodded.
“The current head came before me as a child and demanded I awaken my blessing. Luckily, he promised my mother an enormous reward. For choosing to part with me, my mother—a simple blacksmith’s daughter—sacrificed herself for my future.”
*Creak.*
Lancelot sank deeper into the chair. His face grew complicated as he continued.
“Thinking of the amount the count offered… Mother must be living comfortably now. I want to meet her for purely selfish reasons.”
His face was filled with aching longing. An illegitimate son who had left his mother. Even someone as upright as him could carry such pain.
“I’ll ask you directly, Frey. Will you hear my request?”
“Yes.”
“Really? You were thinking about refusing a moment ago. What changed?!”
*Clatter!*
Surprised by my answer, Lancelot pushed back his chair and stood. The chair rolled across the floor.
“Why the surprise? You saved my life; I’ll do this much for you.”
“Really? Thanks. I didn’t expect you to agree before I even mentioned a reward.”
Wait a second. A reward?
“Reward? Take it. I’ll add enough to make it worthwhile.”
I spoke in a voice that still smelled faintly of blood. Truth was, I hadn’t agreed to help just for the reward. But if I could get something valuable, I would.
“Understood! First I’ll report to Captain, then head out. Since he likes me, I should be able to leave tomorrow morning.”
Lancelot’s voice rang out cheerfully.
“Tomorrow morning? I’ve only been here a day.”
…That thought never reached Lancelot. His excited face made me hesitate to stop him.
“Ah! While I’m gone, tidy up the trays. If you’re late, feel free to sleep. The bed’s yours.”
After saying his piece, Lancelot hurried outside. Alone, I let out a bewildered chuckle.
“Ugh. Seeing that is almost like watching a kid.”
Who would look at him and think, *That’s the Sword Master? One of the Twelve Sword Masters of the Empire?*
…
..
.
Time passed. Evening had fallen and the camp was filled with snoring, yet Lancelot still hadn’t returned.
“Drinking somewhere?”
I sighed long and hard inside the tent.
Looking outside was a bad idea. A few knights stared at me with the eyes of wolves watching a mouse.
…They definitely wanted to challenge me.
I hated pointless fights. The duel with Gler had been forced; I had no interest in one without a clear reason.
“……”
As I walked slowly through the tent, my eyes caught a book on a chair. The same book Lancelot had been reading when I woke. It didn’t look like a rare tome. I picked it up out of curiosity.
Title: **The Knight’s Song**.
*Flap.*
I flipped through quickly.
Then.
“……What is this?”
An odd feeling settled on me.