Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Hero
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"Squires, step forward as the prince calls your name and place your hand in the flame."
The emperor's heavy command prompted the young prince to begin calling names. The first squire to go sliced his palm with the small dagger handed to him by the princess and thrust his hand into the flame without hesitation. He drew forth a sword glowing with red light from the fire, and cheers erupted through the cathedral like thunder.
Next came a female squire, sweating profusely. Though she followed the exact same process, no matter how much she waved her hand in the flame, nothing took hold.
"It's alright. The next chance will come in harmony as well."
The princess smiled beautifully, as if consoling her, and the female squire reluctantly retreated to her place.
And so it went, one after another. Out of more than eighty young squires, over fifty failed to draw a sword. Iven and Bulki exchanged glances, both sweating buckets, a strange mix of tension and anxiety hanging between them.
"Iven of Brunawn."
Then it was Iven's turn. He slowly ascended the dais and locked eyes with Hyeon, the knight order captain standing guard on either side of the emperor.
Hyeon smiled and nodded in greeting, and Iven forced a smile in return, pretending to be fine. He took the dagger from the princess and sliced his palm just like the others.
Red blood welled up, and in that blood, Iven saw flashes of the past.
Screams, a village burning, people torn apart.
And Lije.
And the two years he'd run toward them, with Bulki by his side through it all. Iven drew a deep breath and plunged his hand into the flame. The fire enveloped his hand like a saint embracing the wounded.
It was warm.
And something was definitely there to grasp.
Iven drew the sword upward from below. It was a plain straight sword, but it faintly shimmered with purple light.
Cheers erupted once more, and Iven glanced around briefly before realizing it: he was a true knight order member now. Tears of sublime joy welled up for the reward of those two years.
"I... I did it, Lije."
The princess approached him. Her eyes sparkled like aquamarine gems. In that moment up close, Iven felt something beyond mere beauty.
No fairy could match the princess's beauty, he thought fleetingly.
She spoke to him.
"Iven of Brunawn, even if it is a faint and common sword, you have inherited a blade. As a knight now, wipe away those tears."
At her words, he brushed away his tears and looked toward Bulki, overflowing with joy. Bulki nodded repeatedly at him, his face full of pure congratulations-no envy or jealousy-brimming with everything that defined friendship in this world.
"Bulki of Brunawn."
Next was Bulki's turn, and Iven descended.
"I knew you'd make it, friend."
"You gave it your all, Bulki."
Even in their brief brush past, they encouraged each other. Iven returned to the ranks as Bulki took the stage. That was when it happened.
Boom!
A deafening explosion incomparable to before swept a mystical wind across the back of Iven's neck. Turning, he saw Bulki radiating light-and though Iven didn't notice, his shadow deepened and spread in that glow.
"El Miplas-no way!"
"Oh, Sonain, holy sword!"
"El Orsi lost to this land! Radiant light!"
"Lantern of Miplas!"
Everyone, including the emperor, knelt before the brilliant golden light Bulki had drawn-the sword said only a Hero could wield-offering reverence.
Everyone there knelt, save Iven and Bulki, and the princess beside them, who stood gazing at the light. Bulki stared straight into the blinding radiance and shouted.
"My sword's name is Hutvana. The sword that divides good and evil!"
As if entranced by the light, Bulki proclaimed his sword's name, and it took form. A blunt-ended blade-not quite a sword, more like the hammer he and Iven had played with as kids pretending to be Heroes.
"Yerutsa Rahav!"
Bulki shouted again, and Iven collapsed to his knees, surrendering everything.
"You... why..."
Iven's face twisted like plate armor on the verge of splitting.
Deep down, he knew.
He'd thought about it every day for two years. He didn't even dream of surpassing him, but if he gave his all, if he tried harder than death itself, could he become like Bulki?
If so, could they share true friendship? Could they exterminate the demons together and bring peace to this land?
Would Lije look at him the same way she looked at Bulki?
"Yerutsa Rahav!"
But everyone was wrong. Contrary to what the knight captains said, what mattered in this world was which sword you drew. That was the fate of this tale.
A single moment had created an overwhelming gap between them.
Bulki was the true Hero of every story. The protagonist of all tales in this world had been Bulki from the start, and Iven was nothing more than the shadow deepening at his side until the end.
Iven felt tears flow that day.
No words of friendship could be found in them. Unlike the cathedral's awed, his were filled with pure regret and misery. Iven could only bitterly admit it to himself.
He could never be like him.
The world needed a guiding star to lead everyone-a star fitting by Lije's side-and that wasn't him, but Bulki.
Iven's shadow, that abyss, deepened further.
Iven died not long after that day.
***
Two figures in full gear, down to their regular knight helmets, prepared for a spar in the Sonain Empire's training grounds. One wielded a sharply honed greatsword; the other, a straight sword and large shield.
With their visors down-finished like a short beak curving backward-no one could tell who they were. They adjusted their heavy armor, exchanged brief salutes, and assumed stances.
They gauged each other's openings.
No murderous intent hung in the air, but the oppressively still atmosphere, not stirring even a speck of dust, weighed heavily on the two knights.
Just then, the greatsword wielder struck first.
Not from raw power deficiency but tactical intent, he scraped the ground and slashed upward, then spun around to add rotational force for a horizontal sweep. Dust billowed in a wide arc.
The deep gouges left by the blade should have boomed thunderously, but both attacks were effortlessly blocked by the opponent's great shield emerging through the dust.
Did they twist the shield to deflect the weight? He hurriedly analyzed how his strike was parried, but as the horizontal slash twisted his waist, exposing it, the opponent thrust their straight sword straight at it. The strike boomed against the armor, delivering substantial impact.
The greatsword wielder twisted his blade to hold it vertically like a shield against the straight sword. Fixing its weight, he watched his opponent over the hilt, seeking an opening.
The straight sword wielder, deeming the greatsword impenetrable, shifted position, lunged deeply, and targeted the waist again. The greatsword knight, mimicking the earlier shield deflection, barely angled his blade to let the attack glance off.
Even after, the opponent pressed in with fluid, dance-like movements, relentlessly aiming for the waist. The greatsword wielder faltered for a moment, and the foe capitalized, shoving with the great shield to topple his stance.
Deeming it insufficient, they slipped into the disrupted guard, hammering the breastplate and helmet upward with the sword's hilt repeatedly.
Head forced back, the opponent lost balance and fell. As the straight sword pressed against the gap between helmet and armor, the greatsword wielder dropped his blade and raised both hands.
"I yield, friend."
Removing his helmet, the one sprawled on the ground was Bulki, who had drawn the Hero's sword not long ago.
And his sparring partner, the victor...
"Good bout, Bulki. At this rate, you can protect the princess as a Hero, huh?"
...was Iven.
"Whatever, just help me up already."
Iven pulled Bulki to his feet, and Riu, the 1st Knight Order Captain who had been watching, approached them.
"War is eternal, but battle is a fleeting instant. Well fought, both of you."
"Yerutsa Rahav."
"Yerutsa Rahav. But this guy's just too strong, Captain."
As Bulki sulked, Iven bowed politely to Riu, who acknowledged it with a raised hand before continuing.
"Bulki's friend, your martial prowess is impressive. I'll speak to Captain Hyeon of the 3rd Knight Order myself, so if the chance arises, consider being seconded to the 1st for combat."
Riu meant every word.
"Thank you. I'd appreciate that. I'll take on any duty."
But Iven wasn't truly grateful. He didn't smile genuinely, nor did he care what Riu might say to Hyeon.
"Splendid, knight."
The sincerity of the one who hadn't become a Hero lay buried in the abyss sealed away the day he drew his sword. No jealousy remained for him now.
"I'll simply do my utmost in my own role."
Now, only misery was his truth.