Chapter 1: One Who Understands the Three Worlds (1)
Chapter 1: One Who Understands the Three Worlds (1)
Eugene, a soldier of the Republic of Korea, was granted a second life after dying in the line of duty.
It was a place entirely unlike Earth. He was born the son of a witch in a world where knights, mages, and fairies sang.
Even here, witches were persecuted, but Eugene's childhood was not a harsh one.
The fear the name 'witch' carried, and the benefits her herb-lore brought the village — these two kept a delicate balance. Had either been lacking, mother and son would have been forced to continue a wretched life of wandering.
Eugene, too, was large of frame and born with innate strength, so the village boys could not bully him.
"Hey, new kid! You move in, you gotta go through initiation... huh?"
At the sight of Eugene walking along with a log the size of himself balanced on each shoulder, every jaw dropped.
An axe was embedded in one log, the iron head driven so deep it had vanished from sight. Everyone there had chopped firewood before, so they understood exactly how monstrous that strength was. Not even Samson's father, a woodcutter, seemed capable of such a thing.
"Coming through."
"Uh, y-yeah."
Even the older boys in the neighborhood couldn't muster the nerve to pick a fight and meekly stepped aside.
It was a peaceful life for mother and son, if not an affluent one. Many things were harsher compared to the comforts civilization had provided in his previous life, but Eugene was happy.
That good childhood, however, did not last long. His mother passed away from illness.
The one who took in the boy with nowhere else to turn was Priest Goffrey, from the village monastery.
That monastery served the Orthodox Church. Once it had held sway over the entire continent, but now it had greatly declined, pushed aside by rival orders. The church proclaimed there was only one god and rejected all other mysteries as wicked idols, so there was strong opposition to accepting a witch's son. They had tolerated the mother because her medicines were so effective — a thorn in their side, but one they endured for the sake of the villagers. But to take in the son as well!
"He is impure blood! How can you bring such a profane thing into a holy monastery?"
"We are living through difficult times. It is in times like these that we must unite under true faith. We must distance ourselves from uncleanness."
While everyone else opposed it, Goffrey alone stood up for Eugene.
"The child has committed no sin, has he? Please, let us show mercy."
"Sir Goffrey..."
Goffrey had once been a renowned knight before entering the monastery in his old age. His piety was respectable for a knight, his reputation formidable, and whenever the village needed armed protection, he stepped in and upheld the monastery's standing.
"I will not disrupt the brothers' religious life. I will take full responsibility for the boy and see to everything myself."
With the monastery's own sword pressing the matter so firmly, they could not refuse. Eugene was permitted to stay only until he turned twenty.
After that, several winters passed, and the promised term drew near its end. In three days, Eugene was to leave the monastery.
"I am grateful for all you have bestowed upon me during this time."
The now-grown Eugene regarded Goffrey as his benefactor. Goffrey had trained him in knighthood and arranged for a friendly priest to teach him to read and write. Most of all, Eugene was grateful for the affection he had shown him as his godfather.
Eugene had been an orphan in his previous life. His witch mother had shown him maternal love for the first time, and Goffrey had given him a father's love.
"Do you hold no resentment for leaving as if driven away?"
"Not at all. I have no interest in becoming a priest."
Eugene had no desire to live an ascetic life bound by rules. Even less so for a fallen order.
"A sound decision. I, too, do not wish for you to become a pawn of those narrow-minded men."
Goffrey pointed outside the monastery.
"Go out into the world. Wealth, glory, love—the world is full of things within your grasp. You need only reach out and claim them."
"That seems like somewhat inappropriate encouragement coming from a priest, does it not?"
Eugene gave him an uneasy look.
"It is advice given not as a priest, but as a former knight."
"You may be overestimating me."
"You have more than enough ability. Do you doubt my judgment?"
"Not at all. Are you not the one with the keenest senses in the world?"
Eugene looked into Goffrey's clouded eyes.
The Blind Knight Goffrey. Blind from birth, he possessed extraordinarily keen hearing and touch in place of sight. Some blind people developed sharper senses, but Goffrey stood in a class of his own. He could evade incoming arrows and spears without seeing them. He could even hear an opponent's muscles move and predict where the attack would come from. That uncanny gift had earned him the title Knight of Prophecy.
"The sighted fools in this monastery do not know your true worth."
There was one fact everyone misunderstood: Goffrey had not taken Eugene in all those years ago out of mere compassion.
"I remember the day I first met you."
At that time, Eugene had been digging his mother's grave. She might have provided good medicine, but a witch was still a witch. None of the village adults would step forward to help. Digging a grave was hard labor even for grown men, and to be buried without a funeral was a tragedy. Thinking that he at least should help, Goffrey had gone to find Eugene.
And so, at that first meeting in a quiet forest, the veteran knight of a hundred battles was utterly overwhelmed.
Thunk!
THUNK!
Every time the boy swung the shovel, the earth was gouged out with terrifying force. An ordinary knight would have been astonished by the shovel's speed and the volume of soil, but the Blind Knight focused on something else.
'A monster.'
The harmony of Eugene's muscles with every movement of his limbs sounded like the growl of a sleeping dragon. It had a resonance unlike that of any squire or knight Goffrey had ever encountered.
'And his heart is calm.'
The boy's heart maintained a steady rhythm. Neither the labor of digging a grave, nor the fear of losing his mother and being left alone in a harsh world, could shake that small heart. Rather, it was Goffrey himself who lost his composure.
Thump.
The aged, retired knight placed a hand over his left breast.
'I want him. I want to shape this young tiger cub with my own hands.'
He felt his fighting spirit as a knight, long buried beneath his life of faith, surge upward. Goffrey sat quietly and savored the tone created by the boy's muscles. The only thing he did in the end was recite a prayer and offer flowers.
-Will you not come with me? I will give you food and a place to sleep, and a future as a knight.
Nod.
Eugene had accepted the offer. That was the truth of how Goffrey had taken him in.
"When do you intend to leave?"
"As soon as I recover my mother's belongings."
"The monastery will not hand them over easily."
When Eugene was accepted into the monastery, the possessions from the hut where he and his mother had lived were brought with him. Some had been classified as a witch's creations and sealed in the monastery storehouse.
"I cannot leave empty-handed, can I?"
"Though I doubt they are things worth much money."
"Money is not the issue."
His mother's research journals and travelogues were worth more to Eugene than money. They were fragments of memory left by his only family in a world where everything was unfamiliar. He refused to leave them behind.
"So that is why you accepted the monastery's request, on the eve of your departure."
"Yes."
The monastery had ordered Eugene, now approaching adulthood, to exterminate a giant boar terrorizing the village. He could easily have ignored them; like a sergeant on the verge of discharge, he had nothing left to fear and was already preparing to leave. But he could not resist their promise to return his mother's belongings if he completed the task.
"I will go with you."
"It is work I can do alone."
"Is this not your graduation ceremony, for all intents and purposes? Allow me to at least observe."
"Understood."
A short while later, the two, now prepared, left the monastery.
"You must never take a boar lightly."
"I know. Judging by the depth of the tracks, it's no ordinary beast."
In Eugene's estimation, the target easily exceeded 200 kilograms.
Even with a hunting rifle on Earth, a boar that size wasn't something to take lightly. To the farmers here, armed with little more than bamboo spears and farm tools, it was nothing short of a disaster.
"Look over there. Looks like they're going to hunt that monster."
"It's not a monster, it's a boar."
"But they say it's as big as a monster. Samson saw it on the cliff top at night, said there was a boar the size of a house."
"How many times have you heard that blowhard's tall tales?"
The farmers murmured among themselves as they watched the two.
Wild dogs, wolves, boars, and bears were common beasts. The people here used the word monsters for the far more dangerous predators that stood apart from them.
An aging herbalist approached Goffrey and Eugene, respectfully removing his hat.
"You have your work cut out for you."
"Thank you."
Eugene answered in place of Goffrey, who was a man of few words.
This time a middle-aged man came forward, clasping his hands in supplication.
"They say that damned boar ruined Gamba's mushroom field. If we leave it alone, who knows what else it'll destroy? I know I've no right to ask, but please—we beg you!"
"We'll do our best."
He didn't hesitate to speak informally to any of them, whether middle-aged or elderly. It was the first habit Goffrey had corrected after taking him on as a squire.
The villagers likely preferred it that way. Eugene was destined to become a knight, someone mere backwoods farmers could not address casually.
"Good day, Sir Knights!"
A shepherd repairing the village fence greeted them cheerfully.
"I would be happier if you called me a priest. I have chosen faith over the sword now, you see."
"And I am still just a squire who has yet to receive knighthood. Knight is too grand a title."
At the sight of the master and disciple showing such humility, the shepherd tapped his own lips.
"Ah, this ignorant fool misspoke. Haven't you two saved the village more times than I can count? You're just like knights from a fairy tale."
It was no empty flattery.
It was the frontier of the continent, a village bordering deep mountain country, so threats great and small came constantly.
The village's very name — Kingdom's End — came from its location at the edge of successive kingdoms. Contrary to its grand ring, it was a place of no particular distinction, though its population was rather large.
Whenever an incident arose that required force, Goffrey would bring Eugene along to resolve it, using it as part of his knightly training.
They sometimes shared the meat from their hunts with the village as well. That alone was enough to win them popularity.
When Eugene, who had grown up stalwart and imposing, walked with the seasoned Goffrey, they appeared to the ignorant farmers like a scene from a painting.
"I was so very sorry I could do nothing to help when your mother passed."
"It couldn't be helped. Everyone had their own circumstances."
This village was ruled not by a knight or lord but by the monastery. Thus the priests held ownership over the forest and the mill as well.
Eugene understood that the powerless villagers had had no choice but to tread carefully.
With the shepherd seeing them off, they crossed the village boundary and entered the shadow of towering trees.
Forests grew thick to the west and north. To the west, a hundred paces in was enough to blot out the sky. To the north, it was not quite so dense, but the soaring mountain range rose up.
Such places were common in this world. The places untouched by the light of civilization outnumbered those that were.
The moment one strayed beyond familiar ground, strange cries, unknown tracks, and gloomy gazes seemed to cling to them.
"There is one thing I'm curious about."
"What is it?"
"You could have entered a great noble house and become a swordsmanship instructor, Master."
"I was even offered a position by the royal court once."
"..."
Eugene found himself impressed all over again.
"So why, in your later years, did you enter a monastery and choose a life of asceticism?"
His master was diligent in his religious life, yet he was not consumed by fanaticism like the other priests of the Orthodox Church.
To Eugene, Goffrey seemed to pray toward something beyond the abbot's sermons and the church's doctrine.
"You know the reason I was able to become a knight despite being blind, don't you?"
"Yes. In return for lacking sight, your other senses became sharper—especially your hearing."
"Yes, I have devoted my whole life to the training of the senses."
Goffrey tapped his eyelids with his index finger.
"With my eyes in this state, I could not grow strong by training the way others do."
"That would be true."
"In spring, I listened to the melting snow, the sprouts rising from the earth. In summer, I distinguished the individual cries of thousands of insects. In autumn, the falling leaves. In winter, I focused on the sound of the world freezing over."
"There cannot be a single knight in the world who trains as you do, Master."
In this world, the way knights trained was nothing more than swinging a sword and running about like brutes.
No one questioned the belief that a knight's path meant training until one was drenched in sweat, utterly exhausted, and one's muscles felt torn apart.
But the way Goffrey trained was something infinitely closer to meditation. Perhaps that was why he had adapted so easily to monastic life, despite having lived his whole life as a knight.
"As I kept concentrating on my hearing, one day I heard something different—something I had never heard before."
"Something like a new realm of the sword? Like a sword speaking to you?"
Eugene asked, recalling the martial arts novels he had read on Earth.
"Are you joking right now?"
"Well, yes."
Eugene gave an awkward, evasive answer.
Goffrey stopped walking and looked up at the sky.
"I heard the voice of God."
That was why he had turned to the monastery in his later years.
"It felt as though all the wrongs I had accumulated were being forgiven. But I never heard the voice again. I entered the monastery hoping to find a way, yet all I found was disappointment. These men are farther from God's voice than any ordinary farmer."
Goffrey turned his face toward the monastery, now tiny in the distance.
More precisely, toward the priests dwelling within it. Those he had, at some point, ceased to call brothers.
"Of all the many monasteries, why did you choose this one in particular?"
"It was in this direction that God's voice came. Besides, they were men mad with faith beyond mere piety, so I thought they might know something more."
Goffrey smiled faintly and stroked Eugene's head.
"And above all, did coming here not give me this bond?"
Since the disciple had long since surpassed the master in height, Goffrey's hand had to reach up.
Eugene quietly endured the head pat before speaking.
"Are you perhaps thinking of leaving the monastery too, Master?"
"Ever the quick-witted one."
Goffrey withdrew his hand.
"I can understand my own case, but if you leave, Master, the priests won't be pleased."
"They brought it on themselves. They have no one else to blame."
The priests of the Orthodox Church, whose influence was steadily waning, were desperate to increase their congregation.
Their vicious conduct, heedless of any limit, made both Eugene and Goffrey frown.
Piii-!
At that moment, a whistle rang out from afar, clear and melodious.
It carried both delight and an eager plea for them to look her way, like a letter written in whistles.
"Homi! Don't rush, come slowly!"
Even at Eugene's shout, the girl racing down the hillside did not slow.
She was in her late teens and tall for a woman, with a face as lovely as a forest nymph's. Yet an unmistakable wildness lingered about her.
Homi was a herbalist and hunter who had settled in the hut where Eugene and his mother had once lived.
"The squire's squire, then."
"Don't tease me."
Eugene shot a glare at his master, who was giving a hearty laugh.
Just as Goffrey had taken Eugene in, Homi was a girl Eugene had taken in.
Though with only a two-year age gap between them, they felt more like brother and sister than master and maid.
