Chapter 77
Chapter 77
Saint, You’re So Vulgar! – Chapter 77
That day, if I were to recall it, the first thing that came to mind was the damp air inside the prison.
The stone prison built beside the waterway was filled with steam that carried the desert's heat, drifting through the air and creating an unpleasant sensation. With our bodies bound, sweat pouring out, and breaths stifled, every moment was pure torment.
But the most terrifying thing wasn't thatit was what was to come.
"Even though he was young, he was ten years old. Old enough to understand right from wrong, and we could hear about the outside situation through the passing guards."
The king would be executed. The returning Lion Corps would gun them down on the spot.
Every time such news filtered in, Asher held back his tears.
Gester added more, slamming his head against the bars and screaming.
He appealed to the guards' emotions. They turned away from Gester.
It was the only thing they could do amid the chaos of the rebel uprising.
Every memory that surfaced was bleak.
Even the beautiful moments were withering away at their edges.
After a night so hazy I couldn't tell if I'd slept or stayed awake, noon the next day arrived.
"It's an assault," such words rang out.
A rumble and explosion shook the air.
Asher had cheered. The Lion Corps was back. They had come to save us and set everything right. He shouted as much to Gester.
Gester clung to hope too.
The vibrations drew closer, then reached the prison.
Banga noise erupted, and he looked up.
It was a familiar silhouette.
"The captain's come to rescue us."
That moment brought a beaming smile. He thought everything would be okay.
Right up until then.
"...His entire body was lacerated. The blood loss was so severe that even standing was a miracle."
He couldn't comprehend it.
How the man hailed as Baern's strongest could end up like that.
In his young heart, there was a moment when he tried to deny this reality.
He even thought, without thinking, that it was a disguise.
But that was mere escapism.
The captain forcibly lifted his staggering body and tore open the prison bars.
He embraced Asher and Gester, then spoke his parting words.
Carried in his arms, they emerged outside.
And only then did Asher understand why he was covered in wounds.
"...The captain didn't harm a soul. He simply endured their assaults with his body, pushing all the way to the prison."
Asher clamped his mouth shut.
He forgot to speak to Versia and instead relived that day.
-Why?! Why!
Words of resentment spilled out.
Why hadn't he mounted a single proper counterattack until his body was ruined like this? The question burned with such bitterness that he lashed out at the captain.
The captain replied.
-Because we are lions, Asher.
Those words explained everything.
The Lion Corps: the royal family's chosen elite mercenaries, Baern's guardians and the idol of all mercenaries.
Their swords were meant for foreign enemies.
They could not be turned on Baern's people, caught up in the political turmoil.
-Run, Asher. Head to the far end, and the vice-captain will be there. If you flee beyond Baern, never return here. Live your own life.
His signature great white sword gleamed under the sun.
It was as wide as an adult man's torso, earning it the name shield-sword.
In this final moment, the captain intended to protect Asher with that blade.
-Live, Asher. Please do that for us. That's all we ask. As long as you live with a smile, our deaths won't be in vain.
Final words can become brands.
The captain's words and smile did just that.
-I love you. Our eternal young lion.
Those words pushed Asher forward.
He turned and ran. The last sight he saw was the mercenaries thrusting their swords into the captain's body, their faces twisted as they swallowed tears.
Later, Trevion's lions blocked the pursuers who followed.
Asher was passed alongfrom Hwaran's arms, clinging to Kyle's waist, propelled by Menton's magic, and hidden in Windizer's lair.
In the process, he parted from Gester without even a farewell.
Some of the Lion Corps mercenaries fought to rescue the king, unable to even say goodbye.
In the end, Asher reached the desert.
Clutching only a single crystal compass, branded by those words, he crossed the sands alone.
For five days, he went without a drop of water.
The ordeal of traversing it was so faint, he couldn't remember.
When he came to, he was crossing a river.
Stowed in the cargo hold of a transport ship, stealing and eating the local fruits, he slipped across the border.
Asher spoke in a trembling voice.
"...I didn't know what to do. Even after crossing the border, I couldn't relax and kept heading east. I came to a land where few knew the name Baern. There, I hid among beggars and survived."
Baern's upheaval ended like that.
Asher bowed his head deeply.
He knew he was called a loser of the era, a rebel.
He had bought information on Baern himself at age fifteen.
The final words of the captain and his comrades were for him to find happiness.
So he tried to bury it in his heart and live.
Without a mission in Baern, he might have done so forever.
Speaking through his lips made his chest ache.
Suddenly, memories he'd pushed to the back of his mind flooded in.
That was when it happened.
"...Yes, I understand."
Versia embraced Asher.
"You don't have to say any more."
She gently stroked his back, speaking softly.
Asher's eyes wavered. He felt like molten lava was about to erupt from within.
But breaking down in tears here would be too shameful, so he held it back.
He simply borrowed her embrace a little longer.
Once he'd composed himself, he smiled.
The desert night sky sparkled with cold beauty, and Versia was kind.
Asher looked at her.
She had his face, but fortunately, the harmony of her light sky-blue hair and blue eyes created a sense of otherness, allowing him to find Versia within those features.
He didn't voice the rest.
'And in the midst of that, I met the Saintess.'
In the time he wandered, unsure how to be happy, when everything in the world felt terrifying, Versia had reached out her hand.
That day, she reminded him of something he'd forgotten.
Human touch is warm.
Warm enough to pull someone out from the freezing, dark pit they'd been buried in.
How could he find happiness?
How could he love a world that had taken everything he cherished?
The answer lay with her.
If there were people brave enough to reach out to strangers, if even one more person like this existed on the earth, if it was a world where no one's life ended in tragedy...
In such a world, he thought he could love.
He thought he could finally smile.
"What's wrong?"
It was too embarrassing to say aloud.
He laughed it off awkwardly, and Versia tilted her head.
Asher stood up.
"...I'm sorry. I've taken too much of your time. Shall we head back now?"
"Yes, we should."
And so the two returned.
Throughout that time, Versia held tightly to Asher's hand.
* * *
Separate from sharing his past with Versia, it was now time to consider practical matters.
Upon his return, Asher told Halia about meeting Gester.
Since he was Asher Trevion's closest friend and harbored greater grudges against the current regime than anyone, they concluded to use him as an ally.
The method was quite straightforward.
"Why not recruit him as the fifth mercenary of the Blue Sword? Just hide his face well..."
Coincidentally, applicants were overflowing for the mercenary group.
They could place him nearby without suspicion.
Might wasn't a big concern either.
Gester Kuolin was weaker than Asher, but he was a boy with real talent, having trained under the Lion Corps alongside him every time.
'His build is solid too. I can tell he hasn't neglected his training.'
They sent word immediately.
The reply was approval.
He arrived the next day, passing along that he'd hear the details there and would dress like a proper mercenary.
And Asher felt a sense of doubt.
"Hello~?"
"?"
"Mila-euseu!"
The returning Gester Kuolin was dressed in women's clothing, speaking in a falsetto.
He wasn't trying to look fully like a woman. His muscular male frame was evident beneath the silk outfit, with a cloth veil covering his face.
Versia said sternly.
"You don't need to put on that act here."
"Oh, really? Haha! Awkward. Good to see you. Captain of the Blue Sword. I'm Gester Kuolin, the deposed crown prince."
"Uh..."
"Understand the outfit. It's the most effective way to fend off unwanted approaches. And it's not rare. Head to Baern's Sixth Street, and there's a tavern where cross-dressing men serve drinksthe male hosts there are renowned for their strength..."
His tongue ran long. Unnecessarily stirring up thoughts.
After greeting Halia, Gester looked at Asher.
He winked.
"Nice to meet you, miss. You seem like my dear friend's precious comrade."
"Haha."
Asher laughed stiffly.
It was only naturalhis mind was filled with doubt.
Memories of conversations from the past surfaced.
-I'm going to be a great king! A man among men with a hundred concubines!
-I'm a lion! I'm going to be a noble warrior!
The kid who dreamed of a hundred concubines had become a cross-dresser.
The kid who aspired to be a noble warrior had become a woman.
'Ahh...'
The future that lay before him was so cruel.
