Chapter 109 : Chapter 109

Translator: AkazaTL

Pr/Ed: Sol IX

***

Chapter 109 – Counterfire (3)

“Why ten seconds?” Tom had asked me that once.

And I had answered: “Because that’s how long it’ll take for that young master to remember the truth.”

***

I stepped forward at the summons. Before the gates of the Karavan estate, an army stood lined up in ranks too vast, too powerful. If they wished, they could erase our land from the map without resistance. The banners fluttering in the wind bore the emblem of waves—the mark of House Rhapsody.

I could feel the sheer weight of that name.

“They’re insane.”

Audrey muttered under her breath.

“They brought this kind of force to a remote estate like this? If anyone else saw, they’d think the Five Great Houses had started a war among themselves. This is… enough to topple a small kingdom.”

Her eyes were trembling.

The army that had arrived after ten days was overwhelming even to look at.

Now I understood what Tom meant—this was the power of a Great House, a force equal to a nation itself.

That was the might of the Five Great Houses.

“Ugh…”

The old gatekeepers at the entrance trembled uncontrollably. Having lived their entire lives in the countryside, they must have been paralyzed with terror. The Rhapsody army made no effort to conceal its aura—in fact, it flaunted it, pressing down on all who watched.

“Sword Demon Liam.”

A war between the Karavan estate and a Great House—even the phrasing was absurd.

It was like an egg striking a boulder.

“Come out.”

Everyone could feel it—the army’s aura dominated the air.

While Edan Rhapsody, the second son of Rhapsody, called for me, Hailyn clutched my shoulder.

She looked up at me with pleading eyes.

“Don’t go.”

“……”

“Please, my lord. Don’t go. You’ll die.”

While Hailyn begged, the remaining villagers turned to look at me. Those who could flee had already done so before the army’s arrival. The ones left behind were those who simply didn’t know how to run. They were people who had farmed all their lives, who had never left this backwater, who had only ever cared for their families. People who had never once imagined leaving.

“My lord.”

They were settlers who had come here after hearing that life was good in these lands—that one could live without starving. And it was true.

“My daughter tasted jam on bread for the first time in her life here. I still remember her laughing face. Just say the word, my lord—I’ll take up a sickle if I have to. I want to protect this land. No matter who we face, I’ll fight.”

“I’ll fight too! I-I mean, if this place falls, won’t those bastards move on to the next village anyway? No matter where we run, it’ll be the same. We peasants don’t have anywhere else to go!”

Simple people. They didn’t understand what they faced. They didn’t know that farm tools couldn’t even scratch a Sword Runner, that knights could move like ghosts, that the Great Houses were near-godlike, that armies like this one were unstoppable, that this was war.

“My wife is heavily pregnant. There’s no way she could flee across the mountains. And I can’t leave her behind. I’d rather die here. Then I’ll ask the gods myself—why they gave us such trials.”

They didn’t understand the injustice of the sword.

They didn’t understand violence.

“My son’s too young to walk far.”

What they feared were droughts.

What they feared were floods.

Pests that ruined the crops.

Boars coming down from the mountains.

But this army of knights—each one a Sword Runner or higher—the heir of Rhapsody, a Swordmaster candidate, their collective malice…

They knew none of it.

They knew only one thing:

“This is our village.”

They had survived drought, flood, pestilence, and beasts. So they believed—if they united once more, they could overcome this too. They didn’t know any better.

“We’ll fight with you.”

A philosopher once said,a servant has no hero—only a hero can recognize another hero.

“I want to protect this place.”

These peasants said foolish things. Not one of them knew how to wield a sword.

Not a single Sword Beginner, much less a Sword Walker.

Many had never even held a blade.

Even if all of them charged together, they couldn’t defeat a single knight from that army.

Even if all of them charged together, they couldn’t touch Edan Rhapsody’s hair.

Even if all of them charged together, they couldn’t defeat me.

The philosopher was wrong. Because I saw what they couldn’t.

“You don’t have to fight alone, my lord.”

My great master once said—heroes are those who, though lost and uncertain, never give up. Those who never retreat, no matter how hopeless.

“It’s all right.”

Even peasants can be heroes.

Anyone can be a hero.

All of them—every one—were heroes.

And even a servant can have a hero.

“Don’t worry.”

My master once told me—that I had the makings of a hero.

“I won’t lose. Never.”

Today, I had to become one.

***

Behind the Karavan estate stood a mountain. From its height, the entire small domain could be seen below. The beasts had long fled, and even the birds were silent.

“Hm.”

There, orcs waited. Elite warriors, strong enough to face knights without fear.

“Fine warriors, Father. But too flashy for my husband. A true male should be grounded, solemn. Rings and necklaces are excessive.”

Among them stood the pride of the orc race—the beauty born once in a thousand years, Sherizik. In her hands gleamed an exquisite glaive, powerful enough to fell a mountain giant in one blow.

“Not that one, daughter.”

“Really?”

“The one on the other side. Blond hair, blue eyes, a humble sword. That human boy is the heir of Steel.”

Sherizik turned her gaze as Sherdik spoke. There he was—the small human boy. Tiny compared to the vast army. Well-built for a human, perhaps, but to Sherizik he was still no more than a bean.

“He’s quite handsome.”

Only a Sword Walker, but Sherizik—born of a great shaman’s blood and blessed with the talent of a Martial God—saw what lay beneath.

“I like his spirit as well.”

“Suitable for a husband, isn’t he?”

“Hmm. Not yet, but he’ll be worth raising.”

She snorted, khng! Some of the elite orcs gasped, whispering,

“Even her snort is beautiful.”

“Truly, the goddess herself would be jealous.”

Sherizik ignored them and spoke again.

“So how long are we just going to watch? It’s been days. Even a refined orc like me is starting to itch for a fight.”

“Wait a little longer. The stars say the time has not yet come.”

“Hmph. The stars are far too patient.”

Her blood boiled at the sight of the human army. She longed to leap in and crush their arrogant faces— those knights who thought themselves supreme. Breaking their proud bodies was one of her finer hobbies.

“Wait. Even those pale humans who spy from the shadows are staying quiet, aren’t they? They, too, know—it’s not yet time.”

Sherdik chuckled. A voice came from the thicket beyond.

“Watch your mouth, baseborn orc shaman. Insult the Watchers of House White one more time, and I’ll silence you myself. I knew orcs lacked honor, but must you prove it so loudly?”

Another force had gathered in the woods.

The swords of the North, personally dispatched by the Duke of House White—guardians of order who bowed to no one but their Duke. They glared at Sherdik, who only laughed.

“Your tongues are sharp, whelps.”

“You damned—”

“Quiet. I know full well the Winter Fangs could tear out my throat. But can you handle the aftermath?”

“……”

“Go on, kill me if you dare. I’ll find your ancestors in the Spirit World the instant I die—and some of them were my drinking companions, fools. Your forefathers lived in the Age of War. They were my friends. To think their descendants would bully their elders like this—tsk. Perhaps I should die.”

“……”

“If you want a beating from your ancestors, go ahead. The young these days—no manners at all.”

They had no idea how long Sherdik had lived. And so the proud northern swords—who bowed to no emperor, not even the Sky Empire—fell silent before his overwhelming seniority.

“Daughter.”

All quieted before the weight of his years.

“Those humans of the Five Houses—can you defeat them?”

Sherizik pondered briefly.

“I’d have to test them to know.”

“Then what of the heir of Steel? Can he defeat that man?”

She frowned.

“Impossible.”

“Why?”

“He won’t last even three seconds. Maybe if he had fully awakened his strength—but right now? It’s laughable to even compare them.”

“You’re right.”

Sherdik chuckled. Then—

“But you see,” he added meaningfully,

“The heirs of Steel are those who make the impossible… possible.”

A very meaningful statement.

“Centuries ago, there wasn’t a soul alive who didn’t know those words.”

***

The grand army. And a small countryside domain.

Two mismatched forces—and two men standing face-to-face.

“This shall be a duel of honor.”

“A duel of honor?”

“The rules are simple. When one side yields or is rendered unable to fight, the duel ends. Even if death occurs, no blame is assigned.”

“Familiar rules.”

“The victor may demand one of three things from the defeated.”

“Also familiar.”

My duel for Fetel’s honor had been the same—a duel of honor. Back then, I’d fought as a Proxy Warrior, so in truth, this would be my first official duel.

A ridiculous first opponent—a Sword Expert.

“Any conditions before we begin?”

“If I make one, will you accept it?”

“If it’s fair.”

I looked at the man before me— Edan Rhapsody.

Up close, he didn’t seem human. He was a fortress made of flesh and stone, a walking citadel.

No matter what I did, I knew—this wall would not fall easily.

“Use only your family’s fundamental thrusting techniques.”

“That’s all?”

“And among your sword’s forms, there’s one resembling waves. You may use that as well.”

“Anything else?”

“Only three pairs of Wings.”

He listened, then replied lightly.

“No other restrictions? Not even ‘don’t use your left arm’? Or perhaps, ‘stab yourself before we begin’? ‘Fight me with your entrails spilling out’? ‘Tie your legs and duel’? You may add any of those.”

“Unnecessary.”

“Very well.”

He nodded.

“Move to the far left, pitiful fighter.”

The duel was about to begin. Accepting my conditions, Edan received his weapon from one of his knights—a plain wooden stick, so crude it could hardly be called a sword. Long, dull, unimpressive.

Holding it loosely, Edan looked at me with lazy eyes.

“On my signal, we begin.”

“Before that, there’s something else.”

“Oh?”

I wasn’t looking at him anymore.

My eyes were fixed on the man standing beyond him.

“Toma Rhapsody.”

Toma Rhapsody.

“Look at my face—and say it again.”

The cause of all this.

“In that duel of the 「Infinite Duel」—did I truly disgrace your honor? Was our match unjust? Did I really slaughter your loyal retainer? Are the sins you accuse me of truly mine?”

The man I had once faced in that endless arena—the one hidden behind helm and armor—was now standing among the knights.

“Answer me. Look me in the eyes.”

Golden hair, blue eyes, noble features— exactly as I’d seen him in the waiting hall of the Infinite Duel. But the emotions in his gaze were different now.

“Y-yes.”

Gone was the arrogance, the boredom, the sly amusement.

None of it remained.

“Y-you killed him, Sword Demon Liam. You—you did it all.”

His eyes were dull and lifeless.

“You… you must answer for your crimes.”

I was certain.

“I see.”

Toma Rhapsody was broken. Whoever had done this had destroyed his soul completely.

This wasn’t the warrior I’d faced before.

Liam’s voice echoed within me.

「Just as you suspected.」

“……”

「The stage is set. Now it’s your turn.」

Exactly as I’d predicted.

“Toma Rhapsody.”

“W-why do you call me?”

“Swear by the names of the Nine Goddesses and the Seven Lords—that you’ve spoken no falsehood, and that your vengeance here is a righteous act under the law of the continent.”

I glared at him. His answer came at once.

“I—I swear it.”

The moment he spoke, I turned away. There was nothing more to hear. Everything was proceeding as planned.

I walked to the far left of the arena. At the opposite end, Edan Rhapsody stroked his trembling brother’s head and stared at me.

Those lazy eyes—sharp as blades.

“Pitiful fighter, I warned you once.”

Even from a distance, his voice was crystal clear.

“You won’t die easily.”

Crystal clear—and cold as death.

“I’ll make sure to keep that promise.”

A chilling threat.

At that, I exhaled slowly.

Then—Why ten seconds? In that moment, I recalled the conversation I’d had with Tom.

Why must you last ten seconds?

And I had answered: Because that’s how long it’ll take for that young master to remember the truth.

Everything was going according to plan.

I must endure.

The rest was up to me.

No matter what happens.

It was time—for me to become a hero.