Chapter 26 : Chapter 26

Chapter 26 — Knight (4)

“He is dead. Died of illness.”

Meken, the deputy commander of the Knight Order 「Yellow Elephant」, felt a faint sense of disappointment when he heard the boy’s words. He had lost the chance to defile the honor of that stubborn and loyal Fetel, and to shatter his convictions.

“Since he did not appear for the honor duel, that makes it my victory.”

Well, that was fine. Alive or dead, the man had accepted the duel, and Meken was the victor. Therefore, he had the right to drag the diseased corpse into the city and desecrate it. That much was enough for him.

What mattered was to defile Fetel.

And yet.

“I will fight in this honor duel as his proxy warrior.”

A boy stepped forward and blocked his way.

At first Meken was startled, but soon he noticed the light in the boy’s eyes — that same upright conviction that 「Fetel the Loyal」 had carried. The moment he confirmed that honorable look, Meken’s tongue flicked across his lips.

“That could be entertaining.”

Fortunately, there was still a toy left to play with.

***

“Sword Runners forge the mana accumulated in their bodies into the form of wings. You know that much, don’t you?”

For the past two days, I had swung my sword with blind obsession. During that grueling training — when my arms felt as if they might tear apart — Liam gave me pieces of advice worth keeping.

“They’re similar to a bird’s wings, but far more extraordinary. The movements of Sword Runners look, at a glance, like a mage’s teleportation spell. Their nickname — ‘ghosts of the battlefield’ — wasn’t given without reason.”

“……”

“You’ll truly feel as if you’re fighting a ghost.”

Fighting a ghost.

I couldn’t quite grasp what that meant. So I asked,

“Then how can I win against that?”

“You have to break the wings.”

Break the wings? How?

Liam looked at me.

“Fortunately, that man only has one pair of wings. He’s a Sword Runner who hasn’t fully matured.”

“……”

“He’ll be clumsy in using them. His body hasn’t adapted yet. There’s a method that works only on such people.”

Liam’s eyes gleamed.

“Put every ounce of your toughness into the first three exchanges. In that moment, you must become true Steel — hard enough to break whatever attacks you.”

Become steel.

It was an abstract instruction. And yet, I was beginning to understand Liam’s abstractions.

The memories and lives that seeped into me each time I swung my blade — the clues contained in the swords I had ingested — were slowly giving me answers.

***

“The rules of an honor duel are simple. When one side surrenders or can no longer fight, the duel ends. Even if someone dies in the process, no one is held accountable. Understood?”

“I understand.”

I looked at the Sword Runner knight who would be my opponent.

Before the duel, he introduced himself — deputy commander Meken of the Knight Order 「Yellow Elephant」.

“A deputy commander of a knight order,” Liam remarked. “He’s the most formidable opponent you’ve faced yet.”

He was right.

A deputy commander — that meant Meken was the second-in-command of his order. This was nothing like the duelists I had faced before.

“If I win this honor duel,” Meken said coolly, “I will take Knight Fetel’s corpse. Ah, I’ll be merciful and spare your life. But I’ll cut off your arms and legs and toss them to the beasts. That should be fair enough, shouldn’t it?”

Spare my life.

That wasn’t mercy — it meant he didn’t even acknowledge me as an opponent.

To him, my worthless life wasn’t worth taking.

I wasn’t foolish enough to miss that meaning.

So I met his eyes and answered,

“Then if I win, I’ll be merciful and spare your life as well.”

Meken’s brow twitched.

“In return, I’ll take your arms and legs. To keep things fair.”

His mouth twisted into a crooked smile.

“Such amusing words. Is it because you’re still young?”

“Perhaps.”

“I suppose a boy raised in some backwater might speak like that.”

The air grew heavy.

“I doubt you’ve ever even seen a Sword Runner in your life.”

“……”

“Then I’ll forgive your ignorance, young boy.”

Meken turned sharply, walking toward the right edge of the arena.

“Go to the left. When the squire signals, we begin.”

A strange tension filled the small dueling ground. The silence that followed Meken’s words pressed down heavily. The knights standing outside the fence looked more anxious than either of us.

No — it wasn’t anxiety.

It was a pity. The kind of pity sent toward someone about to be executed.

No one thought I could win.

“Engrave my teachings into your mind,” Liam’s voice whispered.

Well, I was used to that.

“All the swords you’ve eaten so far were irregular — mere tools to bring your defective body up to the bare minimum fit for a swordsman.”

“……”

“But the sword you swallowed this time, Fetel’s sword, belonged to a man who lived by pure fundamentals. A man who knew nothing of tricks or shortcuts.”

I held the blade that resembled Fetel’s — Twilight.

“That knight’s sword was dull, simple, common. A style you could learn in any city.”

Just as Liam said, Fetel’s sword resembled Fetel himself.

Unyielding, inflexible, humorless.

And precisely because of that.

“That sword will be your strongest weapon now.”

I liked it. So straight it would rather break than bend.

A blade that would never yield.

“Knight Fetel’s sword is the hardest blade you’ve eaten yet.”

I reached the left edge, steadied my breath, and turned.

At the opposite side, Meken looked relaxed, staring straight at me.

The knight and the proxy warrior took their positions.

The squire glanced between us, then raised his hand.

“Well then—”

I drew in a deep breath. My second heart — the Mana Heart — began to thrum. The world around me slowed, my senses sharpening, the mana around me rippling.

As every hair on my body stood on end, the squire dropped his raised hand and shouted,

“Begin!”

At that same instant, Liam’s voice rang within me.

“Become Steel, young descendant.”

And the honor duel began.

In that slowed world, I gripped Twilight tightly and stared at Meken. I didn’t blink. Even the dust floating in the air was clear.

And then—

“You’ll regret this.”

The knight’s wings flared open.

“You foolish boy. You’re about to see just how small your world has been.”

Meken lifted his sword high, then slowly brought it down.

At first, I couldn’t understand the motion.

Was he loosening up? Practicing?

No. Neither.

“I’ll show you how wide the world truly is.”

The moment his sword descended to his face, a shock like lightning struck the back of my neck.

Instinctively, I raised Twilight to block—And.

“Urgh…!”

Clang!

Metal slammed against metal, ringing violently. The instant the sound burst forth, a crushing force traveled through my blade.

My hand, wrist, and shoulder felt as if they were shattering apart. My stomach churned. My skull rang as though struck with a hammer.

My sword hand trembled. Beyond the blade, Meken’s face was suddenly right in front of me.

Impossible.

I hadn’t taken my eyes off him for even a heartbeat — yet I hadn’t seen what happened. He had been far away, swinging his sword in place. How had he reached me?

It made no sense.

It was as though the middle of the story had been erased and only the conclusion left.

Gritting my teeth, I barely managed to steady my strength.

Meken smirked.

“Good reflexes.”

He drew his sword back.

“But how long can you keep that up?”

The moment he withdrew, he vanished like smoke — and reappeared at the far edge, where he had stood before.

“Now do you understand why Sword Runners are called the ghosts of the battlefield, boy?”

That was my first time facing a Sword Runner.

“Mark my words — you’ll regret this. Bitterly.”

***

I had blocked an attack I couldn’t predict, couldn’t even see.

That alone bordered on a miracle.

The first thing I did afterward was check—My hand. My arm. Still attached.

The impact had been monstrous — if not for the Steel Blood in my heart, the duel would have ended right there.

Was the gap between a Sword Walker and a Sword Runner truly this hopeless? I bit my lip and controlled my breath, meeting Meken’s mocking eyes.

I needed to think — fast.

I needed doubt — doubt that led to answers.

A Sword Runner’s attack wasn’t like anything I had seen. It wasn’t swordsmanship. It was closer to sorcery. But whether mystery or sword, I couldn’t just marvel at it.

There was no guarantee I could block the next strike.

The next might take my leg. My waist. My neck.

This time, Liam said nothing.

He must have had a reason. He never lied when it came to the sword, and he had promised that swallowing Fetel’s sword would open a path forward.

Liam wasn’t a madman who enjoyed my pain.

That meant the solution was something I could find myself.

I recalled the brief clash.

The flash of danger I’d felt, like lightning — and how my body had responded instantly with a guard.

Was that truly a coincidence?

No. There’s no such thing as coincidence.

How had I sensed that danger so clearly?

Was it because of the Karavan bloodline, or some power of foresight?

No — the answer wasn’t difficult.

It was because I had entered the threshold of the Sword Walker.

The Path.

Without realizing it, I had already extended my Path outward — and it had sensed the danger for me.

I wasn’t a complete Sword Walker yet; I couldn’t circulate the Path through my entire body to unleash superhuman strength. But after consuming Twilight, I could at least cast the Path outside myself.

Then what had the Path sensed just before Meken’s strike?

It hadn’t been physical contact, yet it warned me.

After some thought, the answer formed.

Mana. It sensed the disturbance of threatening mana.

I tightened my grip on Twilight, suppressing the tremors in my hand.

That was it.

Meken’s seemingly impossible attack — before it unfolded, mana had stirred.

If I could read that disturbance, I could react.

I still didn’t know what kind of power those “wings” truly had. But I knew one thing — before every attack, Meken’s mana rippled. And as a Sword Walker, I could sense it.

Two simple truths.

“Well done,” Liam murmured, as if reading my thoughts.

“Your doubt — that doubt — is your greatest talent.”

There was no time to enjoy the praise.

Knowing it didn’t make anything easier.

Meken could unleash those impossible strikes again and again, and I couldn’t block them forever. His sword was far too heavy. If I kept trading blows, my body would be the first to break.

So what could I do?

Fortunately, I didn’t have to think long.

“Hah—”

My master had already given me the answer.

Put all your hardness into the first three strikes.

I hadn’t timed my first defense properly, yet even so, Meken hadn’t broken through. That meant the Karavan heart was incredibly strong — and that Meken’s sword wasn’t all that powerful for a Sword Runner.

I had taken damage, yes — but every crisis hides an opportunity.

Meken’s mocking smile, the knights’ pitying eyes — everyone already pictured my defeat. And in that kind of atmosphere, even the most disciplined knight could grow careless.

I raised Twilight again.

“How do I win against that?”

“You break the wings.”

Break the wings.

The meaning had eluded me before.

But now, I already had the answer Liam hinted at.

I opened my mouth and drew a deep breath — so deep my chest nearly burst.

At the same time, my Mana Heart pulsed violently.

Thud.

“Try blocking again,” Meken said coldly.

He lifted his sword again.

I closed my eyes instead of watching him, trusting my sharpened senses, and remembered Liam’s words.

“Become Steel, young descendant.”

My heart pounded so hard it felt ready to pierce my ribs.

My entire body — and even Twilight — began to tremble with energy.

The blade quivered, and from its tip, thin blue threads stretched outward — Lines.

The Karavan family’s violent Path.

The long, taut Lines vibrated faintly — fitt — and then that same chill of danger returned.

Like a thunderclap.

With it, Fetel’s memories surged through my sword.

‘I never fought that honor duel to win.’

‘It wasn’t for pride or reputation.’

My second heart thundered. And from deep inside my chest, countless thin Lines spread like veins.

‘It was a duel for you.’

‘I didn’t want to win. I simply couldn’t afford to lose.’

‘In that cold, brutal world, I had bent, yielded, and compromised to survive. But in that moment, that version of me disappeared.’

…

‘Because of your words, I chose to become truly loyal Fetel.’

The Lines coursing through my body were thinner than those of ordinary Sword Walkers — the Karavan family’s own unique Lines, densely filling every corner of me.

‘Unyielding, unwavering, uncompromising — the frustratingly upright knight.’

Those lines granted my body superhuman strength. My sword moved faster than even I expected. And the next moment — like teleportation — Meken appeared again, striking down from above.

Our blades met head-on.

CLANG—!

A thunderous sound tore through the air.

And then—“Wha—”

Meken’s once-composed expression twisted.

‘Unbroken, unbending — harder than any, a protagonist for your sake.’

My blade did not yield.

It was Meken’s sword that faltered.

Pouring out every bit of explosive strength, I grinned.

“Do you see now how wide the world truly is?”

The same words he had said to me — returned.

His eyes flared with rage. But it was too late.

My attack wasn’t over yet.

Sorry about that.

“—?!”

No one could stop the Karavan’s steel Lines.

“What— this technique—!”

Twilight began eating away at Meken’s blade — gnawing like insects devouring grain. Sparks flew.

We were still locked blade to blade, but I didn’t stop concentrating. This was the best situation possible, created by Fetel’s orthodox swordsmanship — but I couldn’t stop here.

Because I didn’t only have Fetel’s sword.

There was another I could use.

I twisted my wrist slightly — and with that small motion, Twilight slipped, turning, sliding inward like a thread through a needle’s eye.

If I hadn’t been struck down once in the Arena by Seol Yoon, I wouldn’t have thought of it.

A sudden, twisting thrust — sliding in where two blades met.

“Ha—”

Meken vanished again, reappearing far away — but—“Kegh…! Khek…”

He wasn’t unharmed.

I looked straight at him and spoke.

“I’ll return your words to you.”

Behind Meken, the wings had reappeared.

But one of them — the left — was shattered.

Completely.

“You’ll regret this,” I said, smiling.

“Bitterly.”