Chapter 127: Changes Left by the War (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 127: Changes Left by the War (2)
Left-Handed Sword Song Baek.
He was once a proud member of the Imperial Brocade Guard.
After dedicating his life to the empire, he lost his right arm in the heat of war. His superiors coldly informed him that his days on the battlefield were over. The Imperial Court hadn't completely abandoned him, of course. They bestowed wealth and honors upon him in recognition of his past achievements. But for Song Baek, a man who had breathed the blood and ash of the battlefield his entire life, a peaceful retirement was a fate worse than death.
For a long time, he wallowed in agony.
Then, one day, he picked up his sword again.
He resolved to die as a warrior, even if it meant meeting a futile end.
Song Baek swung his blade for years until his left arm grew accustomed to the weight. And once he had recovered a fraction of his former martial prowess, he stepped into the Murim, challenging its masters with a left-handed sword technique of his own creation.
It was the beginning of a bloody pilgrimage of duels.
At first, he struggled against even third-rate martial artists. His shattered physical balance prevented him from wielding his former strength, forcing him to risk his life for every victory. Years bled into one another. Gradually, his left-handed sword technique took true shape. He transformed his distorted balance—the very thing everyone called a fatal flaw—into a terrifying offensive advantage. Countless martial artists fell to Song Baek's unorthodox strikes.
In the end, he met Baek Joong-hyuk and faced his death.
Yet, as he drew his final breath as a warrior, Song Baek smiled. It was a genuine smile, content with the life he had lived.
'Left-Handed Sword Song Baek. I cannot say he was the greatest warrior among the countless enemies I faced, but his unorthodox sword technique—wielded solely with his left arm—possessed a sharpness that transcended mere gaps in skill. I was so genuinely impressed by our duel that I entered closed-door training immediately afterward. McBurney is no different. Though his balance is broken from the loss of his right arm, he naturally understands how to utilize his left.'
McBurney.
Roman didn't want him simply because he resembled the Left-Handed Sword. The intelligence regarding the Southern Front that McBurney had provided proved exactly how useful the man could be in a war. If a talent like him was just lying around like a pebble on the side of the road, it would be a sin not to pick him up.
Thus, Roman had sought him out. Looking into the veteran's trembling eyes, he spoke.
"The Left-Handed Sword was a man who lived a life much like yours. Yet, he overcame his physical weakness, wielding a left-handed sword technique so refined it surprised even me. If you swear to entrust your future to me, I will teach you his technique. And unlike the Cairo Kingdom, which failed to recognize your worth, I will put you to use more effectively than anyone else."
He skipped the pleasantries.
This was a transaction—a reward offered in exchange for absolute loyalty.
That was more than enough.
Hearing Roman promise to utilize his worth, McBurney felt his heart might burst.
'This man is my savior.'
He was a one-armed cripple. If he could just live as a warrior again, McBurney would do absolutely anything for Roman Dmitry.
Thud!
He threw himself flat onto the ground. Completely ignoring the bewildered stares of the onlookers, he pressed his forehead to the dirt and spoke in a booming voice.
"I, McBurney, need nothing more than your promise to put me to use! From this day forward, I dedicate my life to Lord Roman Dmitry. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking me in!"
On that day, a broken man found new hope.
* * *
After parting ways with Roman, McBurney headed straight for his quarters. He intended to pack his meager belongings and follow his new liege immediately.
"Hey, McBurney."
"Still haven't given up on that vain hope of returning to the battlefield? Give it a rest already. We know you used to be a hotshot swordsman back in the day, but now you're just a one-armed cripple. It's not like you have any backing, either. You're just a commoner. How long are you going to keep struggling so pitifully?"
"Yeah. We're giving you sincere advice here, so listen up."
They were his colleagues from the temporary unit—men from the Western Front. Having been cast aside just like him, they found his persistent, desperate struggling incredibly grating.
"Look at this guy. His face stiffened just because we said a few words. You and us, we all had our so-called glory days. But look at us now. Cleaning up after noble brats in the capital is all our lives amount to. At least you got a massive reward for tagging along with Roman Dmitry. If I were you, I'd know my place and live out the rest of my days in comfort. Why are you stubbornly clinging to this place?"
"Exactly. Fuck, why don't you just get lost? It's making my stomach turn."
It was a bitter, venomous insult.
If he hadn't received Roman's offer, McBurney might have started a massive brawl right then and there. But now that he had a new purpose in life, he felt nothing but pity for them.
'I was no different from you guys. I lost my will to live and wandered aimlessly. But not anymore.'
A smirk played on his lips. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he flipped them the middle finger as he strode out of the barracks.
"Fuck off, you bastards. When we meet again, let's see if our lives are still the same."
He stepped outside into the sunlight. His mind felt incredibly light.
There was no turning back now. From this day forward, McBurney would live and die for Roman Dmitry.
* * *
War.
A single event that could irrevocably change the lives of many.
Edwin Hector. McBurney. And Henry Albert, the fool of the Albert family, was also swept up in this massive vortex of change.
"...Sigh."
On his way back to his family estate, Henry Albert let out a heavy sigh. He had thought that following Roman around would earn him a proper reward during the distribution of honors, but the Cairo Royal Court only paid attention to Dmitry's people. All Henry received was a meager sum of money. While that might be a grand fortune for a commoner like McBurney, it was far from what Henry desired.
'Lord Roman is too cold. We suffered on the battlefield together, so couldn't he have taken me along too?'
After the war ended, Henry had subtly tagged along behind Roman. The man practically reeked of power. Henry figured that if he could become one of Roman's close aides like Chris, entering the Central Government wouldn't just be a dream.
However, reality was harsh. There was no way Roman would accept someone like Henry Albert. He was coldly cast aside the moment they arrived in the capital.
And now, Henry was returning home like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.
"Yeah, what was I thinking trying to make it big? Living among people who treat me like a king is what suits me best. Absolutely. Once you step out into the real world, it's crawling with monsters like Roman Dmitry. And what about Edwin Hector? Just getting exempted from military service is a massive achievement in itself."
He fell into a spiral of self-rationalization.
Whenever he thought of Roman Dmitry and Edwin Hector—the two towering figures representing their respective kingdoms—he couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was doing with his life. They were all of a similar age. Yet, their talents were worlds apart. Henry Albert didn't possess a shred of their genius, nor did he have the confidence to act like them.
Thus, he arrived at the Albert estate.
However...
[The Hero of Cairo! Welcome Home, Lord Henry Albert!]
[The Proud Son of the Albert Family! Henry Albert Returns Safely!]
[If You Ask of the Albert Family's Future, Look to Henry Albert!]
In front of the castle gates, massive banners with bizarre slogans fluttered in the wind.
Henry stared up at them blankly. It seemed something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.
* * *
At first, he had no idea what was happening.
While receiving his family's overwhelming hospitality with a dazed expression, Henry ran into Viscount Veil, who was wearing a broad, beaming smile.
"...Uncle?!"
"My beloved nephew!"
Viscount Veil pulled Henry into a tight embrace.
In truth, Henry had fully intended to slap Viscount Veil across the face the moment he saw him. When Henry first enlisted on the Southern Front, Viscount Veil had patted his shoulder and told him to trust him. Yet, the moment the war broke out, the man had fled without a single thought for his nephew. Shivering through cold, miserable nights in the mountains, Henry had been absolutely furious.
He had sworn to expose the Viscount's cowardice to the family if he survived. But Viscount Veil, completely oblivious to Henry's burning resentment, raised the young man's hand high and addressed the gathered family members.
"Everyone, please celebrate the safe return of our proud nephew!"
"Ohhh!"
"Henry! Henry!"
The crowd cheered enthusiastically. Henry completely missed his chance to speak up.
Before he could process the situation, Viscount Veil began spinning a wild tale that Henry knew absolutely nothing about.
"As you all know, the Hector Kingdom crossed our borders without warning. As the commander of the Southern Training Camp, I fully intended to stay until the bitter end and fight to the death! But at that critical moment, our brave Henry told me that, as his commander, it was my duty to report this invasion to the Cairo Royal Court. He practically pushed me off the battlefield, declaring that he would remain on the Southern Front with Roman Dmitry and fight to the very end!"
Viscount Veil. He had lived as a deserter.
Naturally, his decision to flee had been based on the assumption that Cairo would lose the war. But against all odds, Cairo had achieved a monumental victory. This put him in a disastrous position. Of course, he hadn't run away from the very beginning—he had fought the enemy in his own way—but that didn't change the fact that he had ultimately abandoned his post.
Therefore, to save his own neck, Viscount Veil had no choice but to fabricate a heroic epic starring Henry Albert.
"Those of you with connections in the Central Government may have already heard the rumors! When we won a great victory in the guerrilla operations against the Hector Kingdom, it was our Henry who reported that triumph to the Royal Court on behalf of Roman Dmitry. That is how significant a role he played! While the masses believe Roman Dmitry did everything alone, we must remember that Henry's contribution was by no means small!"
Now it all made sense.
The bizarre banners. The cheering crowds. Henry Albert had been forcibly transformed into the hero of the family.
The problem was that this delusion wasn't confined to the Albert estate; the rumor had rapidly spread to the surrounding territories, artificially inflating Henry's reputation to absurd heights.
A day passed.
Henry's father pulled him aside with a serious expression.
"Inquiries from neighboring families wishing to arrange a political marriage with you are flooding in. Henry, is there any lady you have in mind? I recall you mentioning before that you fancied the daughter of the Aiden family. Speak your mind."
The Aiden family belonged to the Central Government. Their intentions were utterly transparent. But the hilarious part was that the Aiden family, who had previously never spared him a single glance, was now practically begging for a political marriage.
'The eldest daughter of the Aiden family is famous throughout the region for her outstanding beauty. Countless noble sons wanted to marry her, yet the Aiden family rejected all those prestigious proposals... and now they want a political marriage with me? Is this real life?'
He was completely dazed. His reality was shifting on its axis.
In the war against Hector, Henry Albert had done absolutely nothing. Yet, the mere fact that he had been in the same general vicinity as Roman Dmitry completely transformed his social standing.
That wasn't all.
"This is the Cairo Royal Academy. Would you be willing to give a guest lecture on the events of the Southern Front?"
A direct contact from the capital. His heart pounded furiously.
The Cairo Royal Academy had initially made the same offer to Dmitry's people. But when none of them accepted, they turned to the newly minted 'rising star,' Henry Albert. Only then did Henry have an epiphany: even if he wasn't actually a great person, he could become one solely on the sheer momentum of his reputation.
Therefore, he made a decision.
'To raise my own value even higher, I must spread the word about just how incredible Roman Dmitry is.'
His sole achievement in life was having stood by Roman's side. With that in mind, Henry eagerly accepted the lecture proposal.
Though the truth might be utterly pathetic, basking in the spotlight by borrowing Roman's name wasn't a bad feeling at all. He didn't bother to think about the future consequences. If he had been smart enough to think ahead in the first place, Henry Albert wouldn't have lived his entire life as a fool.
From then on, Henry took on the role of a human megaphone, singing Roman's praises and spreading his fame far and wide.
Henry Albert.
It was the moment the life of a fool—a man no one had ever cared about—reached an unexpected turning point.
* * *
A few days later, Roman left the capital.
The influential figures of the Central Government came out in droves to see him off, and the citizens of Kairos cheered, chanting Roman's name through the streets.
As the capital slowly receded into the distance, Roman did not look back.
'When I return to the capital, I must make a choice.'
The four factions of Cairo. They would no longer sit back and wait for him.
Therefore...
'Until then, I will bring the entire northeastern region completely under my control so that I have the power to stand against the Central Government.'
The elites of the Central Government had no idea of Roman's true intentions. They could not yet foresee what his next journey to the capital would truly mean for the future of the kingdom.