Resolve Anew
“A corpse?”
“……Yeah, I said I’d handle it myself. So hand it over. Where is it?”
“Ha……”
Gerik looked down at the kid who didn’t even reach his waist, his eyes filled with disbelief. The black hair and black eyes were so off-putting that just talking to him made his irritation boil over. But the pale face, blue lips, and overall fragility—like he could drop dead any second—made even a brute like Gerik hesitate to lay a hand on him.
“Kid, do you even know what you’re……”
“I know. I’m saying I’ll bury my own sister.”
“Ha, you cocky little shit……”
His hand twitched upward instinctively, but those pitch-black eyes staring straight at him gave him pause. An ominous feeling crept in, like touching the kid would lead to blood. A chill ran down his spine for no reason.
To a kid like this?
The scraps of pride left in his narrow mind twisted the bad vibe into something convenient.
Yeah, blood’ll be spilled alright. One smack and he’ll puke blood and die. Then I’m the one in trouble.
He snorted dismissively and turned away from the kid, jerking his chin toward the north.
“Go see old man Hins. Sent it over yesterday, so it’s probably still at his place.”
Who’d give a proper funeral to a whore’s corpse?
Probably already dumped it in some distant woods by now.
He kept the curse to himself. Not out of any lingering unease, of course.
Yep, I’m a tolerant guy.
That was it. While the bald thug rationalized between his animal instincts and ego, the kid—Tiny—was already staggering north.
Sis……
In his past life, he hadn’t even found her body. By the time he’d pulled himself together, it was too late. Dragging his broken body through the woods on rumors, he’d found nothing but traces gnawed away by beasts—no bloodstains left.
He remembered collapsing in sobs there. The repeated physical and mental shocks were so severe that it was a miracle he hadn’t died. If he hadn’t awakened to mana amid that trauma, he’d have rotted in those woods.
Back then, he’d seen that power as his dead sister’s blessing. He’d hidden the awakening completely, honing it in secret. A mana user could become a knight’s squire or trainee knight, but Philes Territory’s lord was practically Wolf’s backer. Joining him would make revenge impossible.
I don’t want to leave Sis in this filthy place. But……
Even worse was her becoming food for nameless beasts. They said without a proper burial, she’d miss the Goddess’s grace. This time, at least, he wanted to give her a real funeral.
With that single resolve, Tiny trudged to the north edge of the territory and knocked on the undertaker’s door—the one no one approached.
Knock knock.
—Who’s there?
“A customer.”
—Customer?
The creaky wooden door swung open with a groan, revealing an old man with buckteeth jutting out and a nasty scowl.
“……What the hell, kid? You the one who said ‘customer’?”
“Yeah. The cor……pse that came in yesterday……”
……se.
The word caught in his throat. Tears threatened to spill, so he forced his head up to stare at the sky and let out a deep sigh.
Huuu.
Without shame, boldly and upright.
Like Sis said. Like the creed of the Mighty Knight, Tiny.
“……I want to give my sister a proper funeral.”
Hins the bucktoothed undertaker’s face soured instantly.
“Money aside, fix that mouth first, you rude little brat.”
“Money’s not the most important thing?”
The kid stood his ground defiantly despite the glare. Wary of the unease it stirred, Hins stepped back.
“……Fair enough.”
“I’ve got enough money. First, confirm if my sister’s here.”
“……Ha, you little punk.”
Hins eyed Tiny up and down with his plaque-covered gaze. The ragged clothes screamed beggar, and the scrawny ten-year-old frame looked too weak to lift a spoon. But the boldness was off-putting, and those unfamiliar black hair and eyes felt suspicious.
“Money first?”
“Sister first.”
“……No money, you’re in for it, kid.”
“Do your worst.”
Tiny shoved past Hins into the house. The rotten stench hit like a punch, wrinkling his nose. But he scanned every corner without hesitation.
This little shit……
Weirdly fearless. Ignoring Hins’s scowl, Tiny rummaged until he spotted her among the few corpses. He recognized her feet, pulled back the filthy cloth—
And there she was: Erina, pale-faced with a faint smile, black hair framing her.
“……Sis.”
—Good, you found me.
The hazy smile from when he’d awakened was still there. He tried to hold back, but tears streamed down anyway.
“Pathetic……”
He wiped them with his threadbare sleeve. Hoo. A small sigh shook off the grief.
Then, a grating voice from behind.
“Found her, kid? Money?”
Tiny’s face twisted. He wasn’t rude out of ignorance. This wasn’t the friendly banter he’d shared with the Sword Emperor, his sister’s half-comrade.
—Don’t treat non-humans like humans.
The creed of the once-famous Mighty Knight. He judged strictly by actions, ignoring status or job.
This guy’s trash.
The village’s sole undertaker had a rotten rep: fleecing grieving kids of their life savings, dumping unclaimed bodies despite official pay. Erina had suffered the same fate before. No wonder Tiny glared daggers.
Screee.
“What’s that look? Puhuhu, unlucky eyes you got. No money, you’re done for, kid.”
Hins shut the flimsy door, plunging the room into gloom. The sliver of sunlight barely outlined faces.
But.
Clack.
“Ten silver coins. Should cover the funeral. Call a priest, gather people, do it right.”
The pouch from his bosom gleamed silvery even in the dark. Money hidden in Sis’s place.
—This is to set our Tin free. So make sure……
His young body betrayed him; tears welled again. He looked up—at the ceiling now.
I’ll handle my path, Sis. Rest easy now. Please……
Forcing back tears, an admiring gasp broke his reverie.
“Oh……!”
Hins’s sleazy grin made his ugly mug even worse.
“This enough?”
“Heh heh heh, more than enough.”
His rubbing hands, flashing buckteeth, plaque-ridden eyes screamed untrustworthy.
“Funeral starts now. Go to the temple, fetch the priest. Call people on the way.”
“Heh heh. Funerals ain’t instant-fried beans, kid. There’s proper rites. Go home and wait.”
Tiny’s firm tone meant nothing to Hins.
“Leave the money?”
“Obviously. We’ll call when ready……”
Crack.
Hins’s smirk froze as a stone crumbled in Tiny’s grip. Even a child’s body held a top-10 knight’s soul. Faint mana pushed beyond limits momentarily. Hins couldn’t know.
“……Uh, heh heh. Th-that’s……”
Tiny approached with a cold smile, eyes locked on Hins’s darting gaze.
“Prepare now. No tricks.”
Hins puffed up, regaining bravado.
“Heh heh, learned some tricks, eh? Trying to fool an adult…… Gaaah!”
His grab for Tiny’s collar snapped backward with a gruesome crunch.
Thud.
He crumpled screaming, knees buckling. Face-to-face now, those black eyes flickered with hellfire. Hins paled.
“G-gah. M-my hand……!”
“Next time, it’s your neck, old man. Got it?”
“Y-yeah. Got it! P-please……!”
“Do it now.”
“Y-yes. Right away.”
Pain like a crushed wrist made Hins nod frantically. He bolted out, kicking the door open. No more schemes—he knew what that strength in a kid meant.
A Mana User!
A trainee knight-level talent. At that age, the lord would covet him. Tiny watched Hins flee, then turned back to Sis. To etch her unseen face deeper.
* * *
The funeral prep was tougher than expected. Rushed same-day, and for a whore—no workers wanted in.
—Irreverent funerals bring the Goddess’s curse.
Ridiculous superstition, not in any scripture. But he couldn’t wait. Delaying risked Wolf’s gang sniffing the money source. They’d claim Sis’s hard-earned savings. No strength to fight them yet—funeral first.
So Tiny dragged the coffin alone, metering his faint mana to sustain it. Naturally, it drew stares.
Grrrrrrrk.
From Hins’s to the temple graveyard. Villagers gathered at the rare sight.
“……What’s that?”
“A kid pulling that?”
“Tsk tsk.”
Murmurs buzzed. The stares stung less than guilt over the premium pine coffin scraping the ground. But it was the best now.
If I’d known……
Glancing back, bandaged Hins flinched.
“M-my wrist’s……”
……Wouldn’t have broken the old geezer’s wrist.
……Or at least not so hard.
Too late for regrets. Hoo. His unhealed body screamed, but heart pain dwarfed it. He kept a stoic face dragging to the graveyard, digging a hole deeper than himself.
The priest came easy—for money. Most of the ten silvers went to him.
“……In the name of the Goddess who created heaven and earth, we pray for Sister Erina’s peace.”
Following the priest, Tiny crossed himself, gazing at the grave.
Sis, rest easy there.
He imagined her smiling atop it.
—Head high, no shame, bold and true.
I will, Sis.
She just wanted him to live honorably, but how could that slake her grudge? So atop her grave, he renewed his past-life vow.
“I’ll make my name echo to where you are…… I’ll live that brilliantly.”
Watch me. I swear it.
No more tears fell on his clenched fist.