Chapter 28 - Beginning Ordinarily and Finally Becoming Extraordinary (1)

The seething spirit was exceedingly rough.

The knights of the Iron Lion Knights were so riled up they looked ready to burst into flame if someone so much as tossed them a spark.

It was a spirit far too irreverent to show before the prince of a nation.

But I did not find it strange in the slightest.

The knights of the past were swordsmen, poets, and adventurers all at once.

At the same time, they were seekers who walked the arduous path toward Transcendence and completion.

They were freer than anything, and the only thing that could bind them was the burden they had chosen to shoulder by their own will.

But the knights of today were not like that.

They were not free, and rather than their own completion and Transcendence, they regarded living for their lord as the highest virtue.

They had been taught to hold their necks stiff and not to offer respect carelessly unless it was to their own master.

Because they were such men, their irreverent attitude was nothing especially new.

To them, I was neither someone who deserved their respect nor someone to whom they owed loyalty.

The brief respect they had shown was nothing more than a formality offered to the royal banner.

If even that had not existed, they would already have drawn their swords.

I knew that fact, and so did my maternal uncle and the Royal Knights.

There was no one here who did not know it.

That was what I thought.

Until I felt a fiery spirit rising behind me as if it would burn my back.

"Huh?"

When I turned around, Adelia was there.

Though she was utterly exhausted from the fierce ride on horseback, the look in her eyes alone was flickering like ghost-fire.

Of all things, the spirit of the Iron Lions seemed to have provoked the unsavory parts of her.

Something like [Butcher], or perhaps [Warmonger].

"Adelia."

Worried she might have some kind of fit, I hurriedly calmed her down.

Fortunately, it seemed the Slave Mentality trait I had put effort into developing(?) from early on held the upper hand over the traits that had only just begun to bloom.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Her answering voice was the same as usual.

The ghost-fire that had been burning blue in both her eyes had already gone out.

Whew.

I let out a sigh of relief and spoke to my maternal uncle.

"Then let us meet again later at dinner."

My gaze was directed at Count York Walloden.

He nodded.

It was permission to roam around the castle as much as I liked.

Now that I had asked for his understanding, there was nothing more to hesitate over.

"Arwen."

The beautiful female knight stepped forward and knelt on one knee with disciplined movements.

"I have been waiting only for the day I would see Your Highness again."

At her words, the spirit of the Iron Lions surged once more.

In truth, her words were an expression of pride in herself for having obtained an achievement worthy of the vow that we would meet again once she had earned the qualifications.

"I was waiting too."

I deliberately approached her in full view and helped Arwen to her feet.

Though she looked puzzled by my sudden kindness, she did not reject my touch.

It must have looked quite tender to others.

That was why the Iron Lions were sending such fervent gazes my way.

Of course, that was precisely what I intended.

"Then shall we go somewhere quiet and talk about everything we have missed?"

Their spirit heaved again.

They were truly simple men, easy to understand.

* * *

"Your Highness?"

When I, who had suggested we go somewhere quiet and talk, stopped in a wide clearing, Arwen looked back at me with a puzzled expression.

I ignored her and turned my gaze behind us.

I could see the knights of the Iron Lion Knights following from a distance.

"Do you have something to say to me?"

At my words, the knights flinched.

It seemed they had not expected me to ask so openly.

"If you have something to say, say it."

No answer came.

But it hardly mattered.

They might have nothing to say, but I did.

"I wish to see the sword of the Iron Lions, said to be the finest in the kingdom."

I stated my business bluntly.

Because our schedule had been somewhat delayed, I did not have much time allotted to me.

"Who will show me the sword of the Iron Lions?"

At my words, the Iron Lions murmured.

They exchanged glances, looked at me, then exchanged looks again.

Thinking perhaps they now found my position burdensome after all, I even promised on the name of Leonberk that I would not hold them accountable.

But still, no one stepped forward.

"Is there no one?"

"For the famed Iron Lions to be so faint of heart."

I clicked my tongue exaggeratedly and turned away.

"Your Highness."

"My ability falls far short of representing the sword of the Iron Lions, but..."

There was one man who promptly fell for the childish provocation.

"If you would permit it, I dare stand before Your Highness."

He was a young man who looked like a probationary member.

"There is nothing to permit or not."

"I was the one who asked first."

After saying that, I held out my hand, and Adelia promptly handed me a sword.

But that sword happened to be Twilight, made by a master smith who had poured his soul into it.

"Not this one."

It was not as if I was asking her to turn a light spar into a bloodbath.

When I spoke with a frown, Adelia flusteredly handed me a blunted Training Sword.

"I am Dale of House Denant."

"I have not yet been formally invested."

The man, Dale, said as he held a Training Sword as well.

From the way he kept glancing at Arwen even as he spoke, it was plain to see the childish desire inside him to defeat me and impress her.

At a glance, he seemed to have feelings for her beyond those of a mere comrade.

"Then I shall begin."

"Please be careful."

Dale charged in with vigor.

There was more strength in his movements than necessary.

"Tsk."

I felt somewhat sorry for the apprentice knight named Dale.

Because what he was about to show was something he would never want to show in front of the woman he liked.

"Gah!"

Dale went flying back with the same force he had charged in with.

His tongue lolled out and his eyes rolled back white, making for an extremely ugly sight.

It was a little more unsightly than I had expected.

So I felt a little sorrier.

But my business had never been with small fry like Dale in the first place.

"Next."

When I crooked my finger, the Iron Lions murmured.

They exchanged looks with one another, then one large man stepped forward.

"I am Paul Rotheim."

"I am a third-year probationary member."

Seeing how he put some emphasis on the number of years, it seemed he had trained longer than Dale, who had gone down before him.

But what did any of that matter?

The result would be the same anyway.

"Guh!"

The man named Paul was struck on the crown of the head with the Training Sword and fainted on the spot.

"...am."

"I am in my fourth year."

"I look forward to this."

"..."

"I am in my fifth year."

Men stepped forward one after another.

The number of years increased one by one.

By just as much, victories were added to me.

"I am Muller Mullerhard."

"I am an eighth-year probationary member."

Another man stepped forward.

Compared to the others, his spirit was far more composed.

He also seemed to be on a different level from the probationary members who had stepped forward until now.

"This time will be a little different."

Muller boasted, and in truth, he did prove his ability was exceptional by becoming the first among the Iron Lion knights to block one strike from me.

"You remind me of Arwen."

But that was all.

He had a level that was neither more nor less than exactly what Arwen had possessed in the past.

And Arwen of that time had already lost to me.

All the more when the me of now was completely different from then.

"The sword of the Iron Lions is by no means weak..."

"Gah!"

Before even five exchanges had passed, Muller was struck in the stomach and rolled across the ground.

"Blegh!"

I glanced at Muller as he retched, then looked at the Iron Lions.

Among them were several with deep gazes.

They were not probationary members, but full members.

'They are slow to get off their asses.'

They clearly believed that simply crossing swords with a scoundrel like me would lower their standing.

"Are the Iron Lions all talk?"

I provoked them openly.

The true Iron Lions' eyebrows twitched.

But they still did not seem inclined to step forward.

"Arwen."

I turned my head and looked at Arwen.

Her eyes were full of surprise.

Seeing me defeat even an eighth-year probationary member without difficulty, she seemed quite astonished.

But that was all.

Though she was surprised by my growth, she was not shaken beyond that.

It was likely an expression of confidence that she had grown just as much as I had.

"When I return, you will come with me as well."

"If that is what Your Highness desires."

At her answer, the Iron Lions murmured.

Their reaction said they had never imagined I had come to pick Arwen up(?), nor had they expected her to readily answer that she understood.

"Your Highness."

A heavy voice came from behind me.

I turned around with a triumphant smile.

One man I had been watching closely from the start was looking at me.

Even among the full members, he seemed to have reached a fairly deep level.

"I have heard that Your Highness enjoys wagers."

'I do?'

"Therefore, to liven the entertainment, I thought it might be good to place a small wager."

The man's gaze turned toward Arwen.

I did not need to hear it to see plainly what he intended to gain through the wager.

"And so..."

"Denied."

The man who had been running his mouth widened his eyes.

It seemed he had not expected me to refuse before even hearing his condition.

"She is not a prize in a tournament."

"Your Highness..."

At my words, Arwen's expression became strange.

That look seemed as if she found it absurd, as though saying, "You are one to talk," and at the same time, it also seemed as though she was slightly moved by my words.

"Instead, I will wager something else."

When I signaled to Karl with my eyes, he brought me a sword as if he had been waiting.

It was the Magic Sword I had received as a gift from the eldest son of the loyal family of Count Ellen.

"If you win, I will give you this sword."

Greed surfaced in the man's eyes.

"Your Highness."

"Rather than that..."

Arwen, who recognized the value of the Magic Sword at a glance, tried to dissuade me.

"You are worth a hundred, a thousand times more than a sword like this."

After all, the value of a Sword Master could not even be compared to a sword like this.

Besides, it was not as if I was going to lose.

"Then what should I wager?"

"Well."

"I wonder if you truly have anything I need."

"It may not match the value of that sword, but I do have a treasured item, so I will wager that."

Since he said he would wager something he did not have to, I had no reason to refuse.

When I readily accepted, the man curled up one corner of his mouth.

His expression made it look as if the Magic Sword was already his.

"Dunham of House Fahrenheit."

"I am a full knight of the Iron Lion Knights and on the verge of achieving Triple Chain."

His attitude was so confident it bordered on arrogance, but if he truly was on the verge of achieving Triple Chain, then it was not excessive.

Of course, I had no intention of letting this Dunham or whatever go on and on acting insolent in front of me.

"Double Chain."

"Your Highness?"

"Let us speak accurately."

"Being on the verge of achieving something and having achieved it are different."

At my words, Dunham cleared his throat with a bright-red face.

But he soon composed his expression and put on an unconcerned look.

He was quite brazen.

"Then, Sir Dunham, knight of the Double Chain."

"Will we spar with Training Swords, or with live blades?"

"As Your Highness wishes."

Dunham acted as if he would accept it even if I insisted on being the only one to use a live blade.

That must be how confident he was.

"There was one gentleman who was so confident and ended up humiliated..."

And that was only a short while ago.

"Let us use live blades."

At my words, one of the probationary members handed Dunham a real sword.

"I will use this sword."

Dunham presented the sword as if showing it off.

With a crossguard that was both ornate and practical and a blade that stretched out straight, its quality looked fairly decent at a glance.

"This is the seventeenth sword made by the craftsman whom His Majesty recognized for his skill and called the 「Master Smith of Swords」."

"Though it falls short of the swords after the thirtieth, which are called masterpieces, that does not mean the master smith's skill has gone anywhere."

"If Your Highness wins, this sword is yours," Dunham said boastfully.

"What a coincidence."

I laughed.

"I was just about to use the sword I received from that very master smith."

It did not even have a name.

At most, it had only been assigned a number.

The sight of Dunham swaggering with such a sword was so laughable.

Still, there was no reason I could not play along with him.

"It is the master smith's hundredth work."

The 「Twilight」, forged by the master smith as he burned away the last of his soul, was in my hand.