Chapter 12
"I never thought I'd come here again before I died."
The Cardenos main fortress towered over the heart of the territory.
Hendrickson's eyes, gazing up at the magnificent spires and walls, held a swirl of emotions.
"It's changed a great deal in ten years."
"I told you to wash up before we came. You stink so badly I don't even want to walk beside you."
Youngsters these days, tsk. They only want to take the easy path, blah blah blah.
The eccentric old man who had cursed them until his mouth wore out had become a different person in the meantime.
Needless to say, it had all started after I showed him the Solar ring.
Hendrickson had seen through the respect and admiration I held within me.
Money and honeyed words could not move the old veteran.
Sincere respect. That alone was enough.
From that point on, he began listening to me, and eventually followed me all the way here—to Cardenos.
Hendrickson would be someone who taught me regularly.
Leaving him in a stinking sewer would have been a problem in its own way.
"Calling you 'sir' doesn't feel right. Should I call you Master?"
"Master, my ass. I never said I'd accept you as my disciple."
-Don't call me Master. I don't want a disciple more talented than me. It makes me feel inferior.
The man was remarkably consistent.
I had seen his future in his present.
At the end of it lay the old veteran's final moment.
-I'll handle things here. When I countercharge, put a sword between my teeth. Even if I die, I have to go with that bastard.
A final flare before the light went out.
Even after losing both arms, the sight of his back, still brimming with fighting spirit, had taught me much.
Even calling a retreat a countercharge—Hendrickson had died true to himself until the very end.
I felt something swell in a corner of my chest.
Afraid I might start crying if I spoke right away, I paused for a moment before opening my mouth.
"Then let's settle on guest knight or military adviser."
"Military adviser? You mean I have to teach those other bastards too?"
"You can do it. Everything can be done. There's nothing you can't do."
"What I hate most are young hotbloods. Brainless little whelps!"
He spoke like an old fogey, but there was nothing wrong with what he said.
The age of foretold destruction.
My individual martial power had clear limits.
Making new talents my people was important, but just as urgent was reorganizing the existing forces.
The Black Lion Knights had grown accustomed to the comfortable path.
I planned to overhaul them from the roots up and transform them into a powerful army of Solar-ring knights.
There was no one in the Empire better suited for this than Hendrickson.
'It won't happen overnight, though.'
The roots of something couldn't change in a single day.
I was looking at one year at the shortest, and three years at the longest.
There was no need to be impatient. Slow but certain was the proper path.
"But is that bastard inside?"
"Who do you mean?"
"You know. That inflexible bastard."
"Oh, the lord is away."
My father was at the Cardenos elders' council.
He was preparing a report on the recent incident and measures to counter Rosenthal's retaliation.
The elders were probably shouting their heads off, demanding that I be brought before them.
He would wrap things up on his own, surely.
"That bastard. I couldn't stand the sight of him, so this is for the best."
His tone still dripped with hatred.
A traitor who had abandoned the ring and switched to the shortcut. He had described him that way even before coming here.
It was an unmistakable insult about someone's parents, but it was easy enough to understand.
They had been close master and disciple, so the shock must have been considerable.
'If Father weaves a ring again, this can be resolved.'
Bloodline never lied. My father was martial to the bone as well.
Returning to the ring was only a matter of time.
We headed straight for the First Training Ground inside the castle.
-Hup!
As we drew closer, shouts and the clang of metal mingled together.
Dust was flying as well, so they seemed to be in the middle of intense training.
"Young Master!"
"Young Master, you've arrived!"
When I appeared at the training ground, my gaze met that of the apprentice knights gathered there.
The moment I saw them, I flinched. They came rushing toward me in a swarm, as though they had found prey.
Dozens of knights formed up before me in an instant.
Seeing so many massive bodies gathered together created a strange sense of incongruity.
Thud!
One knight dropped to one knee first.
It was Garten, the squad leader who had first crossed swords with me in a spar.
Starting with him, dozens of knights prostrated themselves before me all at once.
"Brat. How much have you bullied these kids?"
"What kind of bullshit is that? Do I look like someone who'd do that?"
"Like father, like son, I suppose."
Look at the old man's way of speaking. Should I send him back to the sewer?
Garten raised his head with a solemn expression.
"Please, Young Master! Teach us how to weave rings too!"
What?
As I mulled over the meaning of his words, the others raised their voices as well.
"I want to learn too! What you showed us was that deeply moving!"
"We'll gladly endure any ordeal! Please let us weave true rings like you do, Young Master!"
Their cries rang out across the training ground.
Every one of them yearned to return to the ring.
I had overwhelmed Julian, who had opened three Paths, with a single ring. I knew that feat had left an unforgettable shock in them.
'But I didn't expect it to be this much.'
I had expected them to show some curiosity, but I hadn't imagined their eyes would already light up like this.
Pretending to be troubled, I stroked my chin and glanced to the side.
'Well, look at that?'
Only moments ago, he had been an old man with bulging veins, declaring, 'What I hate most are young hotbloods these days.'
Yet now he stood frozen like a fossil, his mouth hanging open.
"There are this many hotbloods with sense?"
Dozens of young knights wanted to carry on the pride that had been scorned for decades and ultimately left behind.
I laughed aloud and lightly tapped him on the shoulder.
"We've got a mountain of people to put through the wringer."
***
"Young Master, who is that smelly old man?"
"Don't know. He kept following me around and asking for money. Look at him, following me all the way here—talk about a beggar's mentality."
"......! How dare you say that here!"
"You miserable bastard."
I was slightly disappointed in the knights.
One arm, an old man, and narrowed eyes.
With those three traits, they should have been able to tell he was no ordinary person.
I formally introduced Hendrickson to the knights.
The knights' reactions were immediate and unanimous.
"Gasp!"
"S-Sir Hendrickson!?"
"S-S-Swordmaster! It's an honor to meet you!"
"We're sorry we didn't recognize you, Sir Hendrickson!"
The knights who had been frowning at the stench quickly broke into goofy grins.
To the knights, a Swordmaster was the realm of dreams.
Some even wondered aloud whether they should get his autograph.
That was one thing, and this was another.
I silenced the bustling commotion and gathered the knights in one place.
I also stood among them and spoke to Hendrickson.
"Please take as long as possible and teach us in the most grueling manner."
Fortunately, none of the knights showed any sign of wavering. Each of them must have finished steeling themselves in their own way.
-The slowest path is the most arduous, and because it's arduous, it's certain.
Those were words Hendrickson had spoken amid the war.
When a war was in full swing, there was nowhere near enough time to build a framework and lay a foundation.
They had been too busy killing the enemies before them, and all they had done was build castles in the air.
As a result, humanity reached its limits and was forced to face a futile destruction.
If not for Lucia and me, it would have been destroyed several years earlier.
Hendrickson stroked his beard with his remaining left hand.
"You know a thing or two. It's not speed but direction that matters. The slower road is the right one. Good. I'll teach you the most vicious, goddamn method I've known in my entire life."
***
"...."
It was the same hospital bed, now on the fourth day.
Julian stared blankly at the ceiling.
He was reviewing his crushing defeat in the duel and trying to control the remnants of his emotions.
"Astin...."
The name slipped between his parched lips.
Even with his eyes closed, Astin's face appeared vividly before him. His voice refused to leave Julian's ears.
-Move! Don't even touch me, lowly thing!
The wastrel young master who had looked down on him as though he were a bug at the academy.
-You are that fallen noble Julian? What is a fallen brat doing here? You should have followed your mother and father.
That arrogant gaze had mocked him with open contempt.
Julian weighed the Astin of the past against the Astin of the present.
After a long period of contemplation, he reached a conclusion.
"Astin has changed."
He replayed the duel in his mind.
From beginning to end, Astin had been the one who controlled his emotions.
Astin clearly knew how to restrain himself. Julian was the one who had failed to do so.
The Astin of now was not that childish playboy.
-What, you didn't expect this? You should have come prepared for this much. You only thought you could win because you treated me like a damn weakling. That's why this happened.
Every word he had said was right.
Julian had looked down on his opponent and never even considered defeat. Could there be any greater shame for a knight?
Astin had been justified. No.
At a time when he would have been fully justified in venting his anger and punishing Julian, he had shown mercy instead.
...How humiliating."
Julian wiped his face with both hands.
Let me put myself in his shoes.
The descendant of a fallen noble whose name had even been erased from the aristocratic register.
He had stormed into the Grand Duchy of Cardenos and challenged its legitimate eldest son to a duel.
Once Astin had won the duel, even beheading his opponent would have been a just punishment.
"If that man had truly been swept up in his emotions, I wouldn't be here."
He would have cut Julian's throat under the guise of an accident.
The dishonor of losing a duel? If he had truly been a wastrel, he would have put his emotions before his honor.
Astin was different. Completely different.
-Honestly, even spending emotions on you two was a waste. But why do you think I went this far? If I sent you back unharmed, you'd never break that rotten habit.
Every one of those dagger-like words was true.
As Astin had said, if Julian had gone back with his body intact, his mind would have remained the same.
-If it hadn't been me, someone else would have given you a thorough beating someday. It only ended this lightly because it was me.
Astin's restraint, put simply, had been physical therapy.
If anything, it had been physical therapy that saved Julian's life, with a little exaggeration.
"Still, why did I do that?"
Thinking about it now, it was strange.
Why had he caused such a mess over a single woman?
At the time, he had valued Azeline so much that he had not cared whether he lived or died.
But not anymore. After experiencing the possibility of actually dying, he had come to understand the value of life.
"If we meet again."
Should he apologize, or should he express his gratitude?
His lips refused to part easily.
-You're all the same. Even when I tell you, you don't understand. Yet you dismiss us as ghosts endlessly circling an infinite ring. If nothing else, you should respect knights who endure hardship.
Julian felt ashamed as both a man and a knight.
Astin's sincerity had sprung from his respect for the knights of old.
He deeply respected the senior knights whom Julian himself had never even looked at.
"......A Solar ring."
Astin's image remained in Julian's mind like an afterimage.
Astin, with a red-gold ring nestled in a corner of his chest.
Bang-!
That was when the infirmary door flew open.
"Julian! I'm here. How are you feeling? Are you all right?"
"...."
Azeline hurried toward Julian.
This was the Rosenthal family's medical ward.
Azeline had visited Julian every day whenever she found the time.
Normally, Julian would have welcomed her gratefully, deeply moved by her concern.
'Astin isn't the only one who's changed.'
Julian opened his mouth with difficulty, his eyes still closed.
"I'm sorry, Azeline."
"No. I should be sorry. You ended up like this because of me."
"No. Your beautiful face was scarred. It's all my fault."
"What are you talking about? Astin, that wastrel, did this to my face, not you."
Julian raised his upper body. There wasn't a single place on him that hurt.
It had originally been a minor injury, one he could move around with after resting for a few days. That was all thanks to Astin holding back.
He had remained here this long only because of the Rosenthal family—or more precisely, Azeline's overprotectiveness.
Julian sat on the edge of the hospital bed.
Azeline worriedly tried to lay him back down, but he stopped her.
"My lady."
The lips that had once called her by name tenderly now spoke with finality.
"We have no right to resent Astin."
"...What?"
"We—or rather, I—brought this all on myself. Being the first to harbor feelings, challenging Young Master Astin to a duel—it was all my own doing."
"Why are you suddenly saying this, Julian?"
The incident had escalated into a matter between both families.
Julian felt an acute sense of responsibility for it.
"I lost the duel, so you and I cannot be together."
"Don't do this, Julian. What does a silly duel matter? You don't have to give me up because you lost. Love matters more than honor. You said so yourself, didn't you?"
That had been true. Once.
Julian rose from his seat and turned his back coldly on Azeline.
"You've done so much for me, my lady."
"J-Julian?"
"My feelings for you all this time were genuine. But I think the time has come for them to end."
That was the path best for both of them.
"Julian! Why are you suddenly doing this!?"
Azeline's cry rang out behind him.
"Come back! You know you're all I have! What am I supposed to do if you leave too?!"
Julian squeezed his eyes shut and grasped the doorknob.
He had no lingering attachment. His cooled heart no longer raced at the sight of her.
Bang!
The door closed, and.
Left alone, Azeline stared blankly at the door.
Soon, her brow contorted hideously.
The root cause of all this misfortune.
"...Astin."
My reputation, my face, my love.
One man had ruined all of it.
He had caused this much trouble simply because I had never accepted his feelings even once!
Crack!
She clenched her molars until they ached.
"Astiiin!! I'll never forgive you!"
The Rosenthals remembered favors and grudges even in death.
She had to make him understand whom he had dared lay hands on.
Behind her stood Rosenthal.
Of course, if Rosenthal and Cardenos were placed on the same level, the scales would balance.
But there was one person.
The presence of a single person, not even the head of a great house, could reverse the situation.
'I never intended to use my friend, but I have to. Things have gone this far."
Each of them was a great figure capable of shaking the balance of the Empire.
There was only one person who could manipulate such great figures with a single word: Lucia.
She was her closest friend.