Chapter 124 : Chapter 124

Translator: AkazaTL

Pr/Ed: Sol IX

***

Chapter 124 — Cherville (3)

Meken was still a knight of the 「Yellow Elephant」 Order. But he was no longer its vice-captain. His defeat to a mere Sword Walker, the fact that he had incurred the wrath of the terrifying noblewoman Daisy White, and the aftereffects of his severed arm — which left him unable to properly wield a sword — had all combined to destroy his career. Since that duel, Meken’s life had been in ruins.

From Meken’s perspective, I was probably his mortal enemy — the villain of his story, if his life were a novel. And yet, he never once came at me with a sword or challenged me to another duel for revenge. Because even Meken could feel it. That I was no longer the same person.

“Here.”

He led me obediently to the Yellow Elephant Knight Order’s headquarters. The building where Sir Vermartin resided wasn’t far from the center of Cherville. Just as Meken was about to leave in haste, I caught his arm.

“Show me the way to the end.”

“……”

His face flushed bright red — redder than it probably could get — but he said nothing and led the way inside.

The moment I entered, dozens of knights turned to look. Some were wary of me, others stared at Sherizik, an orc in the middle of the capital, as if she were a rare beast. Sherizik muttered under her breath:

“How exhausting. Beauty truly is a burden.”

I was grateful the knights didn’t hear that. If they had, they would have taken it as an insult to their honor and challenged her to a duel immediately. Holding my breath, I followed Meken through the building until he climbed to the third floor and pounded on a door.

“Sir Vermartin! There’s a guest seeking you!”

The door opened. An old man stepped out — silver armor gleaming, a proud beard flowing down his chest. The face I saw was exactly as I remembered.

“Who seeks Vermartin the Steel?”

Vermartin. The old knight who, back when I was an awkward, clumsy swordsman, had told me to come find him again. His gaze shifted from Meken to me. When our eyes met, the corners of his mouth curved into a grin.

For a moment I’d worried — what if he’d forgotten me? But that worry was for nothing.

The old knight remembered the boy from that day.

“The boy who carried a rare romance in this age has returned.”

“You remember me.”

“Of course I do. You’re the boy who defeated my vice-captain, restored the honor of a dead knight, and demanded a banner as your trophy. And—”

Vermartin stepped closer.

“—and you were the one I recognized as a lost descendant of Steel. How could Vermartin the Steel ever forget that?”

A descendant of Steel.

Yes. He was the first one ever to use that term for me.

I looked at the old knight. There was so much I wanted to ask. But back then, Vermartin had told me nothing. He’d only said that I lacked the qualifications — that I would need Wings.

“So. Have you forged your Wings?”

Now, I have earned those qualifications.

“Yes.”

“Then let me see them.”

“As you wish.”

Vermartin stroked his beard thoughtfully, then glanced at Meken.

“We’ll need to prepare a place.”

***

Vermartin descended to the first floor. The knights there immediately stopped what they were doing and bowed respectfully. There was no annoyance or reluctance in their eyes — only reverence.

“Prepare the field,” Vermartin ordered.

I wasn’t sure what he meant at first, but the knights immediately began to move.

Seeing my puzzled face, Vermartin explained:

“I can’t keep calling you ‘descendant of Steel.’ What was your name again?”

“Please call me Arhan Karavan.”

“…Karavan, hm. Then I suggest you hide that surname when you can. If one of the ancient beings who remember history hears it, you might meet an untimely end. I’ll just call you Arhan.”

He cleared his throat, straightened his posture, and continued:

“The place we’re preparing is an arena. It’s our order’s tradition. The Yellow Elephant Knight Order requires anyone seeking to join or be employed to prove their strength before the others.”

“You intend to make me stand in that trial?”

“Indeed.”

“You could confirm the Wings right here, couldn’t you?”

“I could. But this is half personal indulgence, half damage control.”

“Damage control?”

He sighed.

“Arhan, you told the Iron Legion’s recruiter that you belonged to my order, didn’t you? I know you did it to send me a word, but not everyone here shares my understanding. Especially our new vice-captain, Lady Annie. She accused me of taking bribes to add noble sons to our ranks. She even said I might have sold the position to help someone dodge conscription.”

“……”

“I know that’s not what you did. I saw the look in your eyes that day — there’s no way someone with your spirit would use my order’s name just to avoid service. But I can’t process membership paperwork on my own authority. The others must agree. That’s why I plan to show them — and Annie — that you deserve to bear the name of the Yellow Elephant.”

Ah.

“Don’t take it personally. I know your intentions were pure. It’s just that the others have grown old and lost sight of that purity. Honestly, I also want to see your Wings with my own eyes — so forgive my selfishness.”

“No need to apologize…”

I couldn’t very well tell him the truth — that I’d only blurted out the first knightly name that came to mind, with no “pure intentions” whatsoever. As I nodded silently, Liam muttered:

「How ironic. The old man is the pure one, and the young one is the schemer.」

“……”

「If you truly feel sorry, then show them the Wings of Steel properly. Give them a sight they’ll never forget. Show them the greatest Wings the world has long forgotten.」

His solemn tone left no room for refusal. I nodded once.

Vermartin turned to me again.

“When the time comes, just show us what you’ve gained. Normally we’d use blunted swords, but times are tense — we’ll use wooden ones.”

“That’s fine.”

“As per tradition, you may choose your opponent.”

He glanced meaningfully at Meken. I met the same gaze.

“I’ll choose Sir Meken.”

Vermartin smiled, as if expecting it. But I wasn’t done.

“And the new vice-captain, Lady Annie, who doubted my right — I’ll fight her next. Then three other knights of renown from your order.”

“Five opponents total? You mean to face them one by one?”

“No. Not one by one.”

This was the capital — the Blade city of the Iron Kingdom. The place to display the Wings of Steel, to prove the glory of Karavan once again. Such a stage could not be wasted on something trivial.

“I’ll face all five at once.”

Vermartin’s eyes widened. Beside him, my spectral master smiled faintly.

「A little excessive… but acceptable.」

Wonderful. I was really starting to take after him.

“Bold. I like that,” Sherizik murmured.

“……”

“I don’t dislike daring males.”

…If only she weren’t here, this would be perfect.

***

Prepare yourselves.

After that command, Meken clamped his mouth shut. His face flushed red as molten iron, his hands trembling around the wooden sword.

To fight five knights at once? The arrogant brat must have gone mad with pride from his early success — that’s what Meken believed.

‘How dare he.’

Even weakened, Meken was still a Sword Runner. The new vice-captain, Lady Annie, was also a Sword Runner. Two Sword Runners and three seasoned Sword Walkers — a lineup no fledgling could handle, especially since the five had long fought together and shared their rhythms. Knights grew stronger when united. That arrogant boy clearly didn’t understand that truth.

‘Perhaps the heavens have granted me a chance.’

When he’d first seen me earlier that day, rage had nearly consumed him — all the humiliation from that long-ago duel flooding back. How dare the boy who’d ruined his career appear before him again, head held high!

But that fierce, unyielding youth had become complacent — so he thought. Whatever I’d spoken with Vermartin about, I now carried myself with a calm confidence that Meken mistook for arrogance.

‘You were ruthless once. But you’ve lost your edge. This time, you’ll pay the price.’

Meken had once been arrogant himself, but defeat had changed him. He had trained hard since then, never slacking. He was certain I hadn’t done the same. Because that was what he had done after his first taste of success — grown lazy, complacent, overconfident.

‘Now it’s your turn to fall.’

Beside him, Vice-Captain Annie glanced over.

“Control yourself, Sir Meken.”

“I am calm.”

“You call that calm? I respect you as a senior, but if you were under my command, I’d have you removed from the line. Fix that flushed face before I slap it myself.”

“……Understood.”

He swallowed his curses.

She wasn’t wrong — Annie was the stronger knight, the more accomplished. If they wanted to bring me down, they couldn’t afford to fight among themselves.

Meken glared at me again, not realizing—

‘This time, I’ll crush that arrogance.’

—that there are people utterly beyond his measure. That the boy he thought lazy had grown far stronger than he’d ever imagined.

‘Revenge. I’ll have my revenge.’

Thus, five knights faced one young man.

***

“When one can no longer continue, when a wooden sword breaks, or when one steps beyond the ring, that is defeat. Do not use killing techniques. This is not a duel of honor, nor a battle to the death. It is a demonstration — nothing more. Remember that.”

Vermartin’s voice carried authority and warning. Everyone knew who it was meant for. Meken, whose simmering anger could not be hidden.

Vermartin, serving as referee, raised his hand — beard quivering slightly — and smiled at me.

Then, with a sharp motion, he dropped his hand.

“Begin!”

At that instant, Meken stomped the ground. Wings burst open behind him — two pairs, now. He had only one pair before, but now two unfolded, his body accelerating instantly, like a blur of teleportation.

“Sir Meken! Don’t move alone—!”

Annie’s shout came too late. Meken was deaf to everything but rage. His eyes blazed as his wooden sword blurred.

「Young descendant.」

Fast — faster than before. But to me now, his movements were perfectly clear.

Wings were pathways between points — and if one could see the path, one could predict the strike. I read Meken’s sword trajectory easily.

Compared to Edan Rhapsody, it was crude. Compared to Toma Rhapsody, pathetic. Compared to the trials I had survived, it wasn’t even worth calling a challenge.

If anything—

「Will you let him go gently?」

—to him, I was the trial.

「Or will you show him just how merciless you’ve become?」

I understood what my master meant. I could see Meken’s attack path. If I swung my wooden sword properly, I could break his weapon instantly — end it there. That would be the “gentle” way.

But.

‘Why should I let him go easily?’

If I hadn’t stepped forward as Fetel’s champion that day… what would have happened to my people, my neighbors? What humiliation would they have suffered?

I chose one of the swords whose essence I had absorbed. As Meken’s strike came down, I met it directly — sword against sword, wooden blades locking in a bind.

A familiar stance. A familiar memory.

Meken’s eyes widened. He remembered, too.

“I find myself saying this twice.”

Fetel’s technique — Sword Wrestling. The skill of a seasoned knight, reborn through my hands. Meken’s body lifted into the air — 「Twilight」. For an instant, I became Fetel himself.

“You’ll regret it again.”

The same words I’d spoken in that long-ago duel, when I’d shattered one of his Wings. I slammed him into the ground. The crash echoed, followed by a gasp and a wet cough.

The four remaining knights charged forward.

“Maintain formation—!”

Annie’s command snapped them into motion. I watched them and thought — no need to toy with them. I’d finish this quickly.

“Slowly…”

I stamped the ground. The Wings of Steel flared open.

A heartbeat later, I was in the center of their formation. Before they could react, I spun once.

『My life was but a single breath of wind.』

Their thrusts went astray. Their footing tangled; wooden blades struck allies. In the confusion, I tossed my sword upward. It flipped half a turn above me.

The Wings flared again, propelling me skyward. When I caught the falling blade —The stance was vertical slash. The First Steel technique. Forging.

“—Block it!”

Annie shouted, barely rallying them. They raised their swords in unison as I descended.

The impact rang out like a hammer striking an anvil. For an instant, it looked like they had managed to block it.

But—

“Hhhk—”

The First Steel never ends with one stroke.

A thunderclap erupted. All four knights collapsed to their knees as the floor cracked beneath them. It was as if a mountain had fallen on their backs.

And—

“Four knights,” I said softly.

The wooden swords they held—

“Step outside, please.”

—were all broken.

“……”

“Wh—what…”

Silence fell over the entire hall.

One strike. Just one.

It could be called coincidence — cheap wood, perhaps. But every knight there knew better.

Even with steel blades, the outcome would’ve been the same. Had it been a real battle, they would all be dead.

That was the difference in strength.

“Such a thing… I’ve never even heard of…” someone murmured.

The four knights rose shakily and left the ring.

They were frustrated, but none denied their loss.

I turned slowly. Meken was still on the floor, groaning. Our eyes met. His pupils trembled violently — rage, disbelief, and fear mixing together.

“Let’s continue, Sir Meken. You look fine to me.”