Is This a Blessing?
* * *
“They say a half-baked talent is nothing but a curse, right?”
The young knight’s mocking words as he held his longsword grated on my nerves, but I couldn’t open my mouth to answer.
I was too busy gritting my teeth just to block his blade.
I had served the Werner County of the southern Pruang Kingdom with unwavering loyalty for over twenty years.
Even now, well into my mid-forties, I had never once neglected my daily training. Yet here I was, forced to pour every ounce of strength into simply blocking the sword of a knight who looked barely twenty.
“Haha, I only wanted to see what a knight of Werner County could do, but this is quite disappointing for someone with so much experience.”
The knight shoved his longsword forward. I couldn’t hold my ground and staggered backward.
I clenched my jaw again, planted my feet, and barely managed to stop.
If I had failed, I would have fallen flat on my ass like a fool.
As infuriating as it was, the young knight was strong.
“My own skill is lacking. The knights of Werner County are formidable!”
“Haha, is that so? You must be… fifty? Not quite sixty yet, I suppose?”
“Ugh… Forty-five.”
“Oh! Haha, it seems I’ve been rude.”
The knight wore a grin that showed not a shred of genuine apology.
That bastard. I will kill him.
“Still, if a knight who’s trained for thirty years is only this good, then as someone on a training journey, I’m seriously wondering whether I should even continue this trip.”
There are those who become knights not through squire service or battlefield merit, but simply because they are born to noble houses. They roam the world under the pretense of training.
This knight was one of them.
He had picked a fight with me for his own amusement during his travels and demanded a duel.
When I refused, citing my duty to my lord, he ignored me, drew his sword, and forced the fight.
And now that he saw my skill was lacking, he mocked me.
The blond, blue-eyed young knight standing before me—someone who looked less than half my age—was far stronger than I could hope to defeat.
But I had to fight.
He had insulted the knights of Werner County. He had insulted me.
In a situation like this, if I didn’t risk my life, I would be no knight at all.
And.
His very first words—that a half-baked talent was a curse—had cut deep into my heart.
Did he think I never wanted to make a name for myself in this world?
The ability I was given had only been this much, so I had worked desperately within those limits.
Yet this knight, born with brilliant talent, dismissed all my effort.
My ability fell far short, but I had enough experience to face an arrogant knight like him.
I raised my sword and steadied my breathing.
Reading the resolve on my face, the knight smirked.
“You’re really going to see this through? I told you it’s pointless.”
Unshaken by his taunt, I spoke.
“I am Ion Rise, loyal knight of Count Werner!”
“Pascal, from Paris. No need to say more. I only reveal my family name when I face a knight worthy of it.”
Mockery to the very end.
I exploded forward.
As I thrust my sword, Pascal lightly flicked the tip aside.
Clang!
The light parry sent a jolt through my hand, but I refused to stop. I pressed in closer.
His sword stabbed again, grazing my shoulder. A burning pain flared.
It felt like the gambeson and flesh beneath had been sliced.
I closed the distance further and slammed my left shoulder into his chest.
Pascal’s body was so solid that I was the one who bounced back.
‘What monstrous strength!’
Gritting my teeth, I tried to hook his leg and throw him while we were still locked together, but Pascal’s knee shot upward.
I jerked my head back to avoid it, then grabbed his foot and shoved.
As Pascal fell backward, he swung his sword sideways in a vicious arc.
If I hadn’t ducked to pin him, that blade would have taken one of my limbs clean off. The wind from the swing alone was terrifying.
“You bastard!”
I tried to pin the fallen Pascal so he couldn’t move, but he thrashed beneath me, covered in dust and furious.
A knight with elegant swordsmanship and overwhelming power like him had probably never rolled around on the ground in a fight.
He was clearly rattled.
He tried to kick me off with raw strength and get up, but I was faster. I drew my dagger and drove it into his side.
Crunch!
The sharp blade punched through the fine gambeson beneath his cuirass, piercing flesh and muscle.
“Ugh! How dare you!”
Pascal grimaced and swung a fist.
My skull rang.
The punch must have grazed my head.
I pressed my head tight against his body.
Then I saw his ear and bit down hard.
“Argh!”
The once-handsome Pascal was now missing half an ear.
The hot rush of blood excited me. I sank my teeth into his throat.
Blood sprayed out, flooding my mouth.
I couldn’t pull away. I kept tearing at his throat whether the blood poured down my gullet or not.
All the while, Pascal rained punches on my cuirass, denting the metal.
It was secondhand plate armor, but the dents were crushing my ribs.
Now it was a race to see who died first.
I kept biting into his throat and twisting the dagger buried in his side.
Crack!
One of my ribs snapped inward.
“Cough…!”
Breathing suddenly became agony.
I had wanted to die a noble death in battle, yet here I was, dying in a dogfight.
The only comfort was that I would drag this mocking bastard Pascal down with me.
No, even that wasn’t comforting.
To think my twenty years as a knight would end like this. It was too bitter.
Would my life have been different if I had lived another way?
I didn’t know.
Only regret filled me.
My breath grew shallow. My mind grew hazy. Sleep pulled at me.
Then I heard a voice—remarkably low, yet warm.
“Do you regret it?”
“Me?”
“Yes. Do you regret it?”
I was suffocating, unable to breathe.
It must have been a hallucination.
“…Yes. I regret it. There were many choices I wish I could take back.”
“If you lived again, could you live differently?”
“Yes. At the very least, it would be different from now.”
“How would you live differently?”
Inside the hallucination, I spoke of the thought I had carried for a long time.
“I spent over twenty years in one place. If I lived again, I would want to travel the world freely.”
“Haha, I see. Then do so. Live freely, just as your name suggests.”
My name, Ion Rise.
Rise, in the old tongue of my homeland, meant “journey.”
I remembered my father telling me that once.
“May I truly live freely?”
“Of course. Live freely. I’ll give you a small blessing as well.”
“A blessing?”
“Check for yourself later.”
“…How exactly do I…?”
The voice no longer answered. My consciousness cut off as if I had fallen asleep.
* * *
Ion opened his eyes.
He lay there, staring at the ceiling.
It was a familiar ceiling.
He bolted upright.
This was the main house of his childhood home.
The hand he used to push himself up from the bed felt strange.
‘Huh? What is this? Why are my hands so clean?’
There were calluses from gripping a sword, but the wrinkles and scars accumulated from battles and training were gone.
He touched his face with those clean hands.
No rough beard. No wrinkles.
He got out of bed and looked at the basin on the table.
It was a small washbasin filled with water for morning cleansing.
The face reflected in the water was his youthful face.
The room contained only a bed, a table with the basin, and a chair.
‘If there’s no furniture in the room, it must be around the time I left this house.’
Ion’s mother had died shortly after he was born. His father, Sir Anton Rise, had been a knight of Begen Estate in the central Badfeld Kingdom.
Following the lord’s orders, he had gone to subjugate wild boars that were ruining the crops.
Near the end of the hunt, he was gored by a boar. His innards were torn, and after a long illness, he died.
Anton had no talent for saving money.
After his death, Ion—the only child—sorted through contracts and assets, only to discover that instead of savings, there was a mountain of debt.
After selling everything that could be sold and settling the debts, all that remained were the armor and sword Anton had worn, and a single horse.
And then.
‘What is this?’
Something strange appeared before his eyes.
A small, translucent arrowhead floated in the upper right of his vision. Even without looking up, it was clearly visible.
When he turned his body sideways, the arrowhead moved with him. When he turned around, it followed.
‘It moves according to my movement. What is this?’
He kept shifting his body, observing the arrowhead.
It wasn’t centered on Ion himself, but on another point of reference.
‘Ah…! The upper right is north!’
No matter where he was, he could always tell which way was north.
‘But still…’
It was impressive, but he wasn’t sure if this counted as the blessing.
Lost in thought, he heard a knock at the door.
Knock! Knock!
“Come in.”
A man in his fifties and a woman in her forties entered.
They were Guido and Ana, the husband and wife who had managed the household’s affairs like a butler and head maid.
“Young master.”
Ana dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Guido scratched his head as if he had nothing to say.
Today was the day.
The day he had to leave this house.
“Have the others all left?”
“Yes. We sent them all away.”
During the debt settlement, all the servants, cooks, and stable hands had been paid and dismissed.
“Then I’ll get ready and come down.”
“Very well.”
Ana, still wiping her tears, spoke with a sob.
“Young master, must you really leave? Couldn’t you stay in Begen? You could still become a knight here, couldn’t you?”
As Ana said, the lord had wanted Ion to succeed his father’s position. But because of the debt, they had to sell even the ancestral home. There was no way he could stay.
In his previous life, he had planned to go to his mother’s distant relatives in Werner County and seek shelter there.
Though only a distant branch, it carried the blood of a count. He had thought it would be better than staying in this remote Begen.
“I’ve already decided. There’s nowhere left for me here.”
“….”
At Ion’s answer, Ana’s eyes welled up again. She nodded.
“Then let me help you put on your armor.”
She gestured to Guido.
“You, prepare the horse the young master will ride!”
“…Understood.”
Guido nodded, bowed, and left. Ana picked up the neatly folded gambeson from the floor and helped him into it.
At this age, he had still been clumsy at donning armor by himself.
Having lived one full life, putting on armor alone was second nature now, but Ion didn’t refuse Ana’s help. He let her dress him.
She wasn’t exactly a nanny, but she had looked after him since he was small. Since she was sad to see him go, he let her do as she wished.
He put on a clean tunic, then the linen-padded gambeson. Over that, he wore the shoulder pauldrons and plate cuirass that had belonged to Anton, carefully repaired.
He donned gauntlets, greaves, boots, and a cloak. At his waist he buckled a longsword, mace, hand axe, and dagger. On his back he slung a bag packed with various traveling supplies.
When Ana saw Ion fully equipped, fresh tears spilled from her eyes.
“When did you become so gallant? If the master could see you now, how proud he would be.”
Despite her words, his muscles were still underdeveloped. He was far from looking truly imposing.
Fully dressed, I went downstairs.
Outside the door stood Yan—the warhorse that had belonged to Anton—and Guido.
Large bags were already loaded onto Yan.
Camping gear like a tent.
But beside them stood a donkey.
“What is this?”
The answer came from Ana, who had followed him down.
“I told him to go with you. My husband will escort you until you leave Begen.”
“Hmm…”
This had not happened in his previous life.
Back then, he had left alone.
When he first opened his eyes, the situation had continued seamlessly and he had wondered if it was a dream. But seeing things unfold differently, it seemed the voice he heard as he died had truly sent him back.
In his past life, he would have strongly refused to let Guido accompany him.
But this time, Ion wanted to see how the situation would change. He nodded and mounted the horse.
“Then I’m off. Aunt Ana, take care of yourself.”
“Sniff…! Y-you too, young master.”
Ana burst into tears again and couldn’t continue. Guido mounted the donkey and followed after Ion.
Ana watched until both the mounted Ion and Guido disappeared from sight, then wiped her tears with her handkerchief.
The moment they were gone, the sorrow vanished from her eyes. She stared in the direction Ion had gone with a cold, icy gaze.
* * *
The Badfeld Kingdom in the central region was a small mountainous kingdom.
Among its territories, the estate of Begen where Ion had grown up was a tiny domain surrounded by mountains.
It was called a natural fortress that could repel enemy attacks, but in truth Begen had little worth invading for.
The main duties of Ion’s father, the knight Anton, had been to stop wild boars from ruining the fields or to subjugate bandits.
To leave such a barren place via the main road, one had to cross a small mountain pass.
Ion rode slowly atop Yan, the chestnut warhorse, his thoughts deepening as he stayed alert to his surroundings.
In his previous life, bandits had appeared a little later.
He hadn’t died, but he had lost his horse and been forced to flee, suffering greatly on the way to Werner County.
He glanced at Guido.
‘If Guido joins the fight, dealing with the bandits will be much easier.’
Even if he couldn’t help directly, his presence would distract them and make things simpler.
‘…!’
Six bandits carrying spears and clubs slowly emerged from the forest and blocked the path ahead.
In his previous life they had suddenly burst out from both sides of the forest while he walked alone. This time they simply walked out.
‘What the hell is this?’
Besides the small arrowhead in the upper right, something else had appeared.
Six red dots floated in front of the arrowhead, and one yellow dot beside them.
The red dots were the bandits. The yellow dot was Guido.
Seeing Ion lost in thought and silent, one of the bandits laughed and spoke.
“You’re finally here? We’ve been waiting so long I thought I’d die of boredom.”
The bandit wasn’t speaking to Ion, but to Guido. Guido dismounted the donkey and pulled a club hidden in the saddle.
“That’s why I came along.”
Ion watched the bandits and Guido with a calm expression.
The yellow dot that had been Guido turned red as he walked over and joined the bandits.
He had always wondered.
In his previous life, Ion had left the estate quietly because he didn’t want others to know. So how had the bandits known to wait for him?
“Is the young master frozen in shock?”
“Kekeke, hey kid. Hand over your horse and armor and we won’t kill you. Everything. Give it all up!”
As the bandits jeered, Guido shouted angrily.
“What are you saying? If you reveal that I followed him, what then? We have to finish this!”
“Haha, got it. What do you say, young master? I wanted to spare you, but my friend here says no.”
Ion dismounted.
The bandits, thinking he had come down out of fear, approached with careless grins.
‘So at this age… I must have looked young and stupid enough for even these fools to underestimate me.’
The bandits carried only clubs and spears. They looked like farmers or herb gatherers, without even gambesons.
They were not the sort who should dare mock an armored knight, yet their behavior suggested they didn’t see Ion as one.
Knights could be nobles or those formally dubbed, but those born as a knight’s son and inheriting sword and armor were also called knights.
Either way, they were not people bandits could treat lightly.
Ion swiftly swung his sword at the grinning bandit approaching him.
“…Huh?”
The bandit who had stepped forward looked down at the blade that had sliced across his body in confusion. The other bandits and Guido wore similar puzzled expressions.
Shiiing!
The bandit’s chest split open. Blood sprayed high into the air.
“Uwaaaagh!”
Ion took half a step back to avoid the spraying blood, then stepped forward again. He swung once more, severing the head of the bandit who had fallen to his knees, blood pouring from his wound.
Slice!
The headless bandit’s breathing stopped.
‘…!’
Suddenly, strength surged through his body.
‘What is this? Is this also part of the blessing?’