A Knight of My Own

"A spar?"

I ran my eyes over the knights who had said it.

Their mood was serious. This, at least, did not sound like something tossed out in jest. Whether they had been provoked by watching Greg grow day after day through sparring with me, or whether they meant to repay the insult they had taken from me with a match of their own, I had no way of knowing.

"...That sounds good."

I had no reason to refuse them. If they wanted to grow alongside me, so much the better. And if this was about revenge, I was perfectly willing to grant them the chance — and clear a little karma while I was at it.

"Then..."

Greg stepped back, and the tall knight who had spoken first came to stand before me.

"Paul Greenwood. Fifth-year apprentice knight."

He gave his name and lifted a wooden sword. A fifth-year in the Roenheim Knights was on the verge of shedding the apprentice's mark and stepping into the ranks of a full knight. Perhaps that was why the presence rolling off Paul was nothing a first-year like Greg could match. Greg would climb to this level soon enough, but not yet.

So I made him a different offer.

"Use your aura. That'll be more interesting."

Paul's brow twitched.

"Are you certain? The wooden sword may not survive it."

"I'll take responsibility for that."

Paul hesitated a moment, then nodded. Green aura soon bloomed along his wooden sword.

"Then we begin."

"Yes. I'll come first!"

With that shout he surged in. The instant he closed to point-blank range, he poured out a chain of strikes — an assault like leaves falling from a great tree.

But—

Tak! Ttak!

Not one of them touched me.

"—!"

Surprise deepened in Paul's eyes as he watched me take the entire combination. His skill was better than I had expected, and this body — still far from ripe — served as a fitting handicap. Maybe that was why. As I knocked his blade aside in a blur, interest stirred in me. For some reason I found myself thinking of the day I first became a hunter, and the old passion seemed to wake again.

"Next!"

And so I rotated through matches with several of the apprentice knights. At first I had only meant to raise my stats a little through the sparring. Before I knew it, though, I had sunk in completely and was focused on nothing but the sword. Time slipped past.

"Agh...!"

With Greg's last cry, the sparring ended. Sprawled all around me were apprentice knights, every last one of them. They had lost, and yet their faces looked somehow refreshed.

Catching my breath, I turned and found Walter staring straight at me, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"It is nothing, Young Master."

The moment he heard me, he tried to school his expression. The pride settled in his eyes, however, did not fade so easily.

Was he that pleased to see me playing with the apprentices? Well. Considering Lucas's past, this was something like turning over a new leaf.

"There is something I must tell you. Might I have a moment of your time?"

Walter's manner turned serious. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠He clearly wanted to speak of something important, so I left the training hall with him, and we found a place to talk alone.

"Speak."

"His Grace the Duke has formally granted me leave to retire from the knight order."

He added that he meant to settle everything and depart the ducal house within the month. It had been expected. Even so, just as I was beginning to grow fond of him, the news left me with that bittersweet feeling of seeing someone off.

"And so... I would ask to undertake one last duty."

"A last duty?"

"Training my successor. That is, educating the Young Master's new escort knight."

A new escort knight. I wasn't sure I strictly needed one, but having one was surely better than not.

"Then where is this escort knight?"

"The new escort knight is one you must find yourself, Young Master."

"Me?"

Walter nodded. Had I still been a child, it might have been different. But I was grown now, and walking the path of a knight on my own — and so, he said, Duke Kaiser had ordered that I handle something as simple as an escort with my own strength.

"He's not wrong, but... honestly, isn't this just him telling me to go eat shit?"

I grumbled. He knew perfectly well how this household treated me, and still he wanted me to recruit someone myself. The intent was obvious.

Walter, however, answered with an easy smile.

"Surely not. This will be a great opportunity for you as well, Young Master."

"An opportunity? What kind of opportunity is that?"

"The chance to make someone wholly your own."

"My own person?"

That caught my interest. The knights around me, Walter included, were ultimately the Duke's knights — Kaiser's. No matter how much rapport I built or how much recognition I earned, I could not call them mine.

"You possess the right to appoint a knight of your own, Young Master. Might I suggest you make use of this chance?"

Walter urged me to choose my person from among them. This old man — after watching me take up the sword, learn the mental cultivation art, and even form an aura core — seemed determined, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before he retired, to see me commanding a knight of my own.

But his proposal was by no means a bad one for me either. I knew all too well how much a comrade I could trust mattered.

"It does sound good, but..."

There was a problem. Choosing a person is far trickier than choosing a weapon. I didn't have anyone I had been watching for a long time. I had only just managed to get a conversation going with the apprentices — could someone like me really pick out a proper knight?

"No... wait."

Something flashed through my mind then. The skill I had obtained only a little while ago: Insight. A skill that let me see another person's status window — wasn't that exactly what I needed right now?

So that's what all that talk of luck was about?

To think luck would help me in a way like this. I immediately used Insight on Walter, standing right beside me.

And then—

A few lines of text, and his status window appeared. Much of it was missing, but fortunately the core remained — his innate traits.

The only trait I possessed was Possession, and Possession had no rank, so I hadn't known. The traits he held came with ranks attached.

Sword Talent at C-rank...

Walter had spent a lifetime as a knight, honing his blade. He had probably drawn that talent out to its limit. If so, was C-rank roughly the level of a 3-Star Knight? It fit well enough. A 3-Star Knight, just as the description said, could fairly be called excellent among knights.

And Patience, ranked even higher than Sword Talent... that tracks.

I smiled bitterly to myself. Without patience of that caliber, how could he ever have stayed at Lucas's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠side?

"Have you finished your deliberations?"

Walter asked, after I had been quiet for some time. He seemed to think I had been weighing candidates for escort knight all along.

"More or less."

It wasn't an entirely wrong guess, so I answered him that way.

"I'll need to look over the training ground once more."

I rose as I spoke. The Roenheim Knights — where every so-called sword genius of the Empire's south was said to gather. If these were their apprentices, I was already curious just how extraordinary their talents would prove.

"Ha!"

The training ground was still full of apprentice knights throwing themselves into their drills. I moved among them and checked status windows with Insight, one after another, first to get a rough sense of their level.

And the result—

...Not as high as I thought.

It was, unexpectedly, a little disappointing. Most of the apprentices possessed the Sword Talent trait, but the ranks ran from D at the low end to B at the high. For a moment I wondered how the apprentices of the famed Roenheim Knights could amount to only this much.

No. I can't measure them by my standards.

I shook my head. Simply possessing Sword Talent meant one had a gift for the blade. In that sense, the people gathered here were certainly worthy of being called talents of the sword. And if Sword Talent stood at B-rank, that was a grade above even Walter, a 3-Star Knight — meaning they could reach 4-Star Knight, the step immediately below Sword Master. Even the lowest D-rank was fitting material for a full knight, a 2-Star.

Even so... it's a shame.

Still, I was looking for someone who had reached at least A-rank. I thought only that level would actually be of help to me. Coldly considered, though, that might be asking too much. A-rank was the talent of a 5-Star Knight — a Sword Master. And in the entire ducal house, the only Sword Master was Duke Kaiser himself. That was how rare A-rank was. So, regrettable as it was, I was just thinking that the sensible answer might be to take a B-rank knight and be done with it.

That was when—

"Young Master? Have you come back?"

A group of apprentices appeared behind me. Looking closer, it was Paul, Greg, and the others who had sparred with me a little while ago.

"Yeah. I've got something I need to do."

As I said it, I checked their status windows. Paul, the most skilled of them, was Sword Talent B-rank. Another apprentice was unexpectedly only D-rank with the sword, though gifted with the bow.

And then—

"Since you're here anyway, how about another round with me? I've been thinking it over since earlier, and I believe I've finally figured out how to get the better of you, Young Master."

"Greg, you sparred the most just now. Rest a little."

While Greg earned a scolding from his comrades for thinking of nothing but another match, I stared at his status window with wide eyes.

No wonder he had seemed to grow by leaps and bounds even during the sparring. Greg's Sword Talent was A-rank. His other traits had no real flaws either, and his character was decent enough — aside from being a little mad for the sword.

I didn't have other options anyway, so my decision came quickly.

"Greg. A word."

I called him aside. Taking him and Walter with me, I returned to the reception room where Walter and I had spoken earlier.

"What is it? Bringing me all the way to a place like this."

Still in his training clothes, Greg sat wide-eyed in one of the reception room's bright chairs and asked.

I went straight to the point.

"Greg, I'm choosing an escort knight right now. Want to give it a try?"

"Pardon?"

I had said it as lightly as if I were offering him a part-time job, and Greg's head tilted a little. Beside us, Walter let out a small sigh for some reason.

"An escort knight?"

"Yes. An escort knight."

"If I become the Young Master's escort knight... what happens to me?"

"What do you mean, what happens? You become my knight."

I answered without much thought. Apparently that wasn't a proper answer, because Walter, unable to bear it any longer, cut in.

"Greg, you currently belong to the White Deer Knight Order led by Sir Velloa, do you not?"

"That's correct."

"If you accept the request to serve as escort knight, you will no longer be able to belong to the White Deer Knights. In their place, you will formally serve Young Master Lucas as your lord."

He added a quiet question of whether that would be all right. Only then did Greg seem to understand what my offer meant, and he bowed his head in silence.

A little time passed.

"I'll do it."

Greg gave his answer with hardly any hesitation. Honestly, it surprised me a little. Being unable to remain with his original knight order struck me as a fairly heavy penalty.

"Why did you make that decision?"

Walter asked the question in my stead.

Greg answered as if it were nothing.

"Well... because the Young Master is strong."

"But there are plenty of the strong, are there not? If you remained with the order, you might even come to serve Sir Velloa, a 4-Star Knight."

"Of course, right now Sir Velloa must be stronger than the Young Master. But the Young Master I saw in the last battle was... different."

"Different?"

"Yes. It's... a little hard to put into words, but... I think it was the first time I'd seen a sword I couldn't understand..."

Greg scratched hard at his head and let the sentence trail off. Walter, who had not seen that battle himself, tilted his head.

Greg went on.

"Anyway, I felt there was a great deal I could learn from the Young Master. It was the same when we sparred. And if I become your escort knight, I'll be able to spar with you even more, won't I?"

He added it with a bright grin. What did this guy think an escort knight was for?

But that was exactly what I wanted, too. I needed sparring partners if I was going to grow — and if I simply took my sparring partner along as my escort, I could spare myself the trouble of marching to the training ground every day.

"So you're in favor, then?"

"Yes. I'll try being an escort knight."

"Good. That settles it, doesn't it, Sir Walter?"

I spoke as if it were all finished.

Walter nearly jumped, shaking his head.

"How could it possibly be settled! First you must receive the knight's oath of loyalty, and after that there is the formal ceremony in which the Young Master invests—"

He rattled on about the proper method of appointing an escort knight. Hiring a single person involved a surprising number of troublesome procedures.

"That's enough. I don't really follow it, so handle it as you see fit, Sir Walter."

I let it go in one ear and out the other.

Walter heaved a heavy sigh and looked at Greg.

"You are going to have a difficult time of it from here on."

"Pardon?"

Greg only tilted his head at Walter's words.