The Blue Chivalrous Hero

The instant the warship appeared, the keel of the merchant vessel under attack by the Chungru Tribe snapped. The ship itself split clean in two and began to sink.

"Aaaagh!"

"S-save me!"

"Please! Somebody stop those monsters!"

Sailors clinging to the foundering merchant ship screamed themselves hoarse.

A sharp hiss cut the air. Raon was channeling Glacia, his hand sliding back into the river, when crimson objects poured from the deck of the South-North Alliance warship.

Long, rounded things dropped with uncanny precision in front of the drowning sailors, as if they had eyes of their own.

"Hah… hah…"

"W-we're alive."

Whatever special material they were made from, they refused to sink even under the sailors' weight.

"Boys!"

A magnificent voice, thick with aura, erupted from the warship's deck.

"Wipe them all out!"

With those words, the owner of the voice leapt down onto the river. Purple hair spilled all the way down his back. His features were gentle yet sharply drawn, his skin as clear as fresh paper — a young martial artist who looked as if the very image of a young nobleman had been painted into life.

"Wooooah!"

"It's Lord Tiller!"

"We're saved!"

The sailors, barely keeping their heads above water, cheered as they shouted the man's name.

"Hup!"

The man they called Tiller ran across the water as if it were solid ground. Watching the flow of mana ripple over the river's surface, Raon could tell he was using a movement technique built specifically for running on water.

Incredible.

Raon resonated the Ring of Fire, studying every detail of the marvel the man's footwork produced.

A sharp zing cut the air. Reaching the cluster of Chungru in a single breath, the man drove the spear from his shoulder straight into the center of the river.

Blue ganggi coiled in a spiral around the spearhead and detonated in a colossal explosion.

"Kiiiieeeek!"

"Kyaaaaah!"

The Chungru could not withstand the enormous shockwave. They reeled like leaves caught in a storm.

"Wooooah!"

"Beasts no different from monsters!"

"Kill every last one of them!"

Martial artists on the deck hurled sword aura and spear aura at the Chungru, loosing throwing spears and harpoons in a rain of steel.

"Kiii!"

"Kyaaah!"

The Chungru could not endure the South-North Alliance's overwhelming assault. They scrambled backward in a panic, green blood streaming from skin struck ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠by sword and spear aura.

"Krooooh!"

The largest among them clasped both hands together and loosed a bizarre cry. River water surged up like an inverted waterfall, blotting out the view, and a blue mist bloomed across the surface.

"Kyaaak!"

The Chungru seized that chaotic opening without hesitation, diving into the river and vanishing from sight.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Tiller snorted and kicked off the churning water. He reversed his grip on the spear and drove it down beneath the surface as if spearing a fish.

The river carved away in a half-moon. A young, small Chungru that had been hiding below was mangled into a ruin and impaled on the spear.

"I can't let you all get away."

He whirled the spear and split the young Chungru's body in half, then wore a cool, easy smile.

"Woooooooah!"

"That's our captain for you!"

"Filthy monster bastards!"

The South-North Alliance martial artists on the warship snickered as they watched the slain Chungru spill green blood.

"Urgh—!"

"W-we're alive."

"Th-thank you!"

"Lord Tiller! Thank you for saving us!"

The surviving sailors, still half-submerged, bowed their heads toward Tiller.

"It was nothing."

Tiller smiled brightly, flipped his spear, and swept it through the water as if rowing an oar.

A gentle wave rose and carried the sailors toward the riverbank.

"Ah. I've heard of him."

Rimer scratched his chin as he looked at the man they called Tiller.

"Tiller Seton. Fifth disciple of the Lord of the South-North Alliance — a martial artist who reached Master a good while back. Outstanding looks, and he's piled up so many chivalrous deeds they call him the Blue Chivalrous Hero."

"I've heard of him as well."

Raon nodded. Just as Rimer said, Tiller belonged to the South-North Alliance, yet he had shown such a heroic face that even among the Six Kings there were people who liked him as a wandering champion.

"Blue Chivalrous Hero?"

Marta scowled as she stared at Tiller.

"No matter how I look at him, he's got that greasy, punchable traitor face."

"That's nonsense."

Burren stepped up beside her, shaking his head.

"That man may belong to the South-North Alliance, but he's a martial artist who's built a mountain of chivalrous deeds and good works. He's cut from a different cloth than your ordinary bandit."

"Oh? So now you're defending bandits too?"

"I'm not defending anyone. I'm stating a fact."

The two of them snarled at each other the way they always did.

"He's no jonjal."

Runaan looked from Raon to Tiller, then shook her head firmly.

Raon kept his gaze locked on Tiller riding the waves toward them and sent an aura message to Rimer.

You're not going to attack, right?

Rimer snorted a laugh as he answered.

I can hardly throw a sword at a man who's out there saving people. Hit him now and we'd have a war on our hands.

Tiller pulled the drowning sailors out first, even checked their injuries, and only then came this way.

"Oh?"

His mouth rounded as he caught the burning-sword emblem stitched into the Light Wind Squad uniforms.

"You're from House Zieghart!"

Tiller recognized them as Zieghart at a glance, yet he inverted his spear as if wariness were the furthest thing from his mind.

His eyes rolled as fast as marbles tumbling down a hillside, pausing only for a heartbeat on Runaan, Marta, Raon, and Rimer.

"C-could you be Zieghart's Light Sword?"

"That's right."

"It is an honor to meet you!"

Tiller bowed his head, his face bright with genuine color.

"An honor?"

"Yes! I've heard it until my ears rang — that you are a true guardian who protects your lord, and a chivalrous warrior besides! I have wanted to meet you for a very long time."

"Is that so?"

"Yes! Among Lord Rimer's exploits, the Battle of Black Mountain…"

Whether he truly had wanted to meet him or not, Tiller rattled off Rimer's accomplishments one after another.

"Ohh! This guy knows his stuff!"

Rimer grinned from ear to ear, clearly pleased, and clapped Tiller on the shoulder.

"And this must be the Frost-Flower Sword Hero."

Tiller rapped his spear shaft with a fist.

"You know of me as well?"

"I heard the story of how you threw yourself into certain death to save a benefactor from your childhood, and I was deeply moved. It is an honor to meet a young hero."

"What I cut down was Eden — an ally of the South-North Alliance. Are you sure you should be saying that?"

Raon met Tiller's blue eyes with a calm, even gaze.

"An ally… Honestly, even calling it an alliance is a little absurd. We each hold different intentions."

Tiller let a faint smile bloom.

"Even people who live in the same place don't all live the same way, do they? Neither among the Five Demons nor within the South-North Alliance does everyone think alike."

"Mm! He's not wrong."

Rimer nodded in agreement, apparently taken with the man who had praised him so thoroughly.

"What brings you here?"

Raon asked, glancing at the warship Tiller had arrived on.

"We received a request for aid from Doran Village, so we've been patrolling once a day."

Tiller smiled gently as he watched the people of Doran Village tending to the sailors.

"And how did the Light Wind Squad come to be here? This isn't the sort of place one simply drops by in passing."

"We also came because Doran Village asked for help."

"Hoh…"

The words that had been flowing like water from Tiller's mouth broke off for a moment.

"Who… ah, well. Zieghart territory is only a little farther on, so that makes sense. Looks like we were simply a bit faster this time."

He delivered it as a light joke, nothing that would sour the mood, and looked toward the villagers.

The sailors and the Doran Village rescue party alike gazed at Tiller and the South-North Alliance martial artists with naked admiration — the look of people standing before a hero.

"We'll be seeing each other often for a while. I look forward to working with you."

"Likewise."

"Then!"

Tiller dipped his head slightly and stepped onto the river once more.

"Huh? You're leaving already?"

"We haven't even properly greeted you yet…"

"Lord Tiller!"

"It was nothing. Don't trouble yourselves over it."

The sailors raised their hands, but Tiller only smiled softly and withdrew. He worked his water-walking footwork and flew back to the warship as if gliding.

"We're heading back, you lot!"

"Yes, sir!"

They demanded no compensation of any kind. Without a shred of lingering attachment, they left the Gazelle River behind.

"Pretty decent guy, isn't he?"

Rimer whistled as he watched the departing warship.

"He's just as I'd heard."

Burren smiled as well, apparently satisfied.

"I don't like him one bit. Looks like he's smeared mayonnaise all over his face. Guys like that are raising a snake in their guts."

"Yeah. He's all slick."

For nearly the first time, Marta and Runaan were of one mind.

Did all the Chungru get away?

On the off chance they hadn't, Raon opened the Demonic Eye of Wrath.

They had all fled; no more Chungru were in sight.

Well, after taking a beating like that…

He was about to let the wrath settle when he saw it — a single Chungru, alone in the deep of the Gazelle River. Its claws and fins were smaller than those of the ones he had just seen, giving it a more human cast, and its eyes were as clear as someone looking upon the Gazelle River of old. It watched them steadily, then slipped away into still deeper water.

Strange.

The Chungru he had just seen was different from the pure presence he remembered, and different again from the monster-like Chungru of a moment ago. How to put it? It felt as if he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had locked eyes with a person.

"He really does come every single day."

"See? I told you we should leave the village to Lord Tiller."

"Exactly! He saves us and doesn't even ask for anything in return. I don't know about the South-North Alliance, but Lord Tiller we can trust."

The villagers were still chattering about Tiller long after he had vanished.

Raon clicked his tongue as he watched the excited crowd.

They're in deep.

Judging by the sailors' and villagers' reactions, this place already belonged to the South-North Alliance — or rather, to Tiller. Calling it anything else would have been a stretch.

This won't be easy.

Raising House Zieghart's flag in this village was going to be a rough climb.

Still, coming here wasn't a waste.

Raon smiled as he recalled the water-walking footwork Tiller had just displayed.

I learned something good.

After returning, Raon and the Light Wind Squad went to find the village chief. Despite his advanced years, the man had a sturdy build. One look at his hands suggested he still did hard physical work.

"Thank you for coming."

The chief smiled and bowed his head, but an unease he could not quite hide lingered at the corners of his mouth.

"Would you start by explaining the situation?"

Raon returned the greeting and asked. Rimer was the sort of man who found this kind of work tedious, so Raon had to handle it himself.

"Well… a few months ago, the Chungru began leaving their dwelling grounds and wandering all over the Gazelle River. They weren't causing any harm, so we didn't pay it much mind. Things went wrong two months ago."

The chief let out a sigh and continued.

"The Chungru used to hide at the mere sound of a boat. Then, all of a sudden, they attacked a fishing vessel. Anyone who knows the Chungru would find that hard to believe — but I saw it with my own eyes."

"I see…"

Raon nodded. It matched what he had heard when Rimer first described the mission.

"As time passed, their aggression only grew thicker. They started sinking ships, then going after people. At this point, they're even targeting large merchant vessels like the one you just saw."

"Do you know why they're attacking ships and people?"

"I have no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠idea at all."

The chief shook his head weakly.

"Unlike other demi-human races, the Chungru cannot speak the human tongue. We've lived alongside them for a long time, yet there's been almost no real contact, which has made this a headache in more ways than one."

His clenched fist trembled.

"While we were still wondering what to do about the ongoing raids, martial artists of the South-North Alliance who happened to be passing along the waterway stepped in. They crushed the Chungru — who are said to be invincible in the water — in a single stroke, and even rescued the people who'd gone under."

The moment the words South-North Alliance left his mouth, a smile bloomed on the chief's face.

"When we asked Lord Tiller if he might at least patrol now and then, he nodded without the slightest hesitation, and he has been touring the Gazelle River every single day. Today, too, the moment he heard the Chungru had attacked, he came and saved the sailors. Which is why…"

He hesitated for a long time before slowly opening his mouth again.

"I am truly sorry to the Zieghart swordsmen who came all this way, but we are thinking of leaving the village's protection to the South-North Alliance."

The chief's lips trembled, but he finished what he had to say.

"I see."

Raon had expected as much, so he nodded lightly. Everyone in the village was already infatuated with Tiller of the South-North Alliance.

And they're closer, besides.

What sat near this village was not House Zieghart, but the South-North Alliance. Looking for the place that was nearer and would visit more often was hardly strange.

"I… I have one thing I'd like to ask as well. Between the Zieghart investigators who came not long ago and yourselves — who was it that requested you come here…?"

"That is…"

"I made the request."

Just as Raon was about to answer, a thick voice carried in from outside the door. The door swung wide, and two young men stepped inside. One had the burly build of a general; the other was lean, with a clean, clear gaze.

"Belga! Morin! What are you two doing here!"

The chief scowled, but the young men paid him no mind and bowed to Raon and Rimer.

"Thank you for coming."

"You're saying the two of you called for us?"

"That's right."

The larger youth, the one called Belga, nodded.

"Relations with the South-North Alliance seem to be going well. Why call us?"

Rimer tilted his head.

"Because we can't trust them."

"Be-Belga! You little—!"

"They're playing the part of kind neighbors for now, but their roots are bandits. They take what others have and treat lives as a joke."

Belga ignored the chief's attempts to stop him and kept going.

On the off chance the words might leak, Raon laid an aura barrier over the room so that no sound could escape.

"Mountain bandits at least clear a road. Water bandits just float their boats on waterways that already exist and collect the money. Tiller is no different. He plays the hero, but he never steps outside the conduct of a river pirate. I can't trust them."

"Th-that's absurd! That man has saved us countless times and never asked for a thing!"

"If they swallow this entire village, the Gazelle River falls into their territory. The gain far outweighs the loss — they can endure that much without blinking!"

"You little—!"

"On top of that, the South-North Alliance moving the instant the Chungru changed is strange—"

"Belga! Morin!"

The chief bellowed hard enough to shake the room, and Belga and Morin flinched and shut their mouths.

"Watch your tongue. A single word from you could burn this entire village to the ground."

"But…"

"This is no place for children! The Chungru have withdrawn, so go out as planned! Morin, you go help him too!"

"Ugh…"

Belga bit down on his lip. He looked at Raon for a moment, then bowed his head and went outside.

"Hahaha! They're still young, that's all. Allow me to apologize."

The chief laughed awkwardly and wiped the sweat running down his temple.

"It's fine. These things happen. Young ones are always full of themselves."

Rimer grinned and nodded.

"I'm simply grateful you understand."

"Speaking of which — this place has a famous liquor, doesn't it?"

"Liquor? You mean Baekhongju?"

"Ah, that's the one! Think I could have a taste? We've come a long way, and I'm a little thirsty for a drink."

"O-of course, as much as you like."

He asked for the liquor as if the mission were the last thing on his mind. At the same time, he flicked his fingers — go outside and talk to those young men, the gesture said.

Raon rose quietly and left the chief's room. The two youths he had just seen were walking toward the edge of the village. The smaller one was limping, so they had not gotten far.

"We met a moment ago."

Raon caught up in a single stride and stepped into their path.

"Hah—!"

"Th-the Frost-Flower Sword Hero!"

The two of them clearly knew who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he was. Unlike in the room, they made no effort to hide their shock.

"I-it's an honor to meet you. I'm Belga!"

"Morin."

Belga bowed with force; Morin bowed with composure.

"I came because I had a question."

"Yes?"

"A moment ago you said there was something strange about the South-North Alliance and the Chungru. What did you mean?"

"This way, for a moment."

Belga glanced around, then led them into a narrow alley. He leaned his back against a wooden wall and slowly opened his mouth.

"The South-North Alliance doesn't normally travel this waterway. But the moment the Chungru's aggression peaked and they started attacking people, they appeared as if on cue — and became heroes."

Belga's face tightened.

"The timing is too good to call a coincidence."

"He's right. It's a blessing that people survived, but the timing is far too convenient."

Morin nodded in agreement.

"Even if the South-North Alliance knows the waterways well, knowing the exact moment someone is about to die is impossible."

"Mm…"

Raon clicked his tongue. It was a fair point — but it was not evidence.

"One more thing. Until now, this village has been outside the South-North Alliance's reach, so people here think far too well of those bandits."

Belga let out a sigh.

"We have a friend in a village that fell under the South-North Alliance a few years ago. At first he said he was happy, that they were finally safe. A few years later, the person himself had changed. He chases nothing but money now. There's no ease left in him."

"He won't say why, but the way he panics the moment the South-North Alliance comes up, it's obvious those people did something."

Morin shook his head as well, insisting they must not trust the South-North Alliance.

"The adults have forgotten that the South-North Alliance couldn't touch this village because Zieghart territory sits right next door. They only think of those bandits in a positive light."

"We'll persuade them. Could you wait just a little?"

The two of them bowed their heads as if begging.

"I…"

As Raon started to answer, someone waved from the village gate.

"Belga!"

"Hurry up already!"

They looked like the colleagues who went out fishing with Belga.

"Go. We'll continue this later."

"Yes! Once we've gathered our thoughts, we'll come find you again."

"Then."

The two bowed once more and ran out of the village.

"Tiller of the South-North Alliance, huh."

Marta's words came back to him — that men like Tiller kept a snake hidden in their guts. Her face-reading had a way of landing closer to the truth than one might expect.

That might actually be right.

He could not take everything Belga and Morin had said as fact, but it was also true that Tiller's reaction had been a little strange.

Preparing for a fight with the South-North Alliance as well as the Chungru did not seem like a bad idea.

Raon smiled as he recalled the ripples of the footwork Tiller had shown him.

Shall I try walking on water?