Chapter 5 - Whores' Knight (2)

A vacant lot lay deep within the city's back alleys.

There, a boy was swinging a wooden stick, sweating hard.

"Hup!"

It was a small, shabby place, but it was the first territory Vlad had won by his own strength.

It was something all his own, the first thing a boy born with nothing in his hands had gained through struggle.

And until a few years ago, it had also been the place where the shack that sheltered Vlad, Zemina, and Haven had stood.

'No need to fix it, I suppose.'

The shack that had once been his home had collapsed after long neglect by human hands.

Vlad stared at it for a while, then turned his head again and began focusing on the end of his stick.

All things with form were bound to crumble.

It looked pitiful now, but it had served its purpose, so all he had to do was remember it.

Because he would never return there now.

WHOOSH!

The blond boy repeated the basics Jorge had casually taught him without pause, vowing in his heart that he would never go back to the way things had been.

It was a cold winter, yet the boy's back was already soaked with sweat.

Vlad was a boy like a hedgehog wrapped in thorns called pride, but he was also a young thing who always had a hunger to learn.

Haven had shown him that.

Through his keen mind, he had taught himself letters and numbers, and using those, he now worked under Captain Hoover.

Haven was a cripple whose fingers had been cut off and who could not even walk properly.

If he had neglected learning, by now he would probably be begging somewhere in the back alleys, starving.

"Hup!"

The experience of learning through effort and climbing to a slightly higher place through learning.

It was an experience difficult for the people of the back alleys, who lived without any hope, to possess, but Vlad had witnessed it right beside him.

That was why, even today, after finishing his day's work, he was swinging a wooden stick.

However.

Vlad, who had been repeating the basics while sweating hard, began to frown.

["..."]

"... Damn it. Every time I swing something, this shit starts up."

The vacant lot was silent and empty, but Vlad could hear it clearly.

Someone's voice ringing inside his head.

Vlad shook his head hard to ignore it, but.

["The boy must narrow the angle of his descending elbow a little more."]

The unidentified voice clung persistently to Vlad and kept speaking to him.

Even if he covered his ears, even if he shouted at it to be quiet, it was a voice he heard whenever he held something resembling a sword.

"... With the money I got this time, I should buy holy water first."

He could not tell whether it was advice or interference, but the voice that came whenever he trained was more than enough to confuse the boy's mind.

"Why the hell did lightning have to strike me back then?"

Vlad began swinging the wooden stick with irritation and anger.

For a boy who was already overwhelmed just thinking about surviving, his current situation was more than enough to make him vent his rage.

It had started a month ago.

That was when the voice began to sound from inside Vlad's head like this.

A month ago, a single bolt of lightning had suddenly fallen on Vlad while he was walking through the back alleys.

No matter how wary the boy was, it was impossible to block lightning falling from the sky.

It was truly a bolt from the blue.

That alone was a strange natural phenomenon difficult to explain, but the problem was that the lightning that fell had taken the form of pitch-black darkness.

The incident that day, which anyone would have found difficult to explain and which had been bizarre and ominous, still followed Vlad in the form of rumors.

Rumors that Vlad had been seized by a demon.

"So I even went to church and made offerings with money I didn't have."

And the ominous contents of those rumors were more or less true.

Aware of that, Vlad had hurried to church, made offerings, helped with chores, and struggled to prove his innocence and solve the problem, but.

"I just wasted what little money I had for nothing!"

Despite Vlad's efforts, the voice could still be heard.

Realizing that everything he had done until now had been in vain, the boy could not help but fly into a rage.

Even so, if Vlad honestly told the church that there was a being speaking to him inside his head, he, who was nothing more than a boy from the back alleys, might immediately be seized and burned at the stake.

No, that was exactly what would happen.

Because the world was harsher to the weak.

"Phew."

After fuming and snorting for a while, Vlad felt the being that had been speaking to him grow quiet.

'Ignore it! The more you answer, the more it sticks to you, that's what they said!'

Remembering Zemina's words of warning, Vlad tried to regain his calm, but.

"Vlad! Jorge says to come!"

"..."

When the girl he had just been thinking about popped out right beside him, he could not help but scowl.

"That's it for today, then."

Vlad was not someone who could comfortably devote himself only to training like the children of some noble house.

He was merely a person of the back alleys, where missing one day of work meant starving for two.

"Got it."

"Hurry up! I knew you were practicing, so I bought you time on purpose."

"... I said I got it."

Now it was time to wake from the dream and return to shabby reality.

Before answering Zemina's call, Vlad decided to swing the stick one last time.

"Phew..."

Always give the last one your all.

Concentrate all your mind and strength.

Strike down.

["Narrow it!"]

"...!"

At that moment, a sharp voice rang out inside his head.

Startled by that voice, Vlad unconsciously narrowed the angle of his elbow.

WHOOSH!

Unlike before, he felt the wooden stick strike down powerfully with a fierce sound of wind.

"Wow."

It had fallen so cleanly that even Zemina, who had been watching indifferently from the side, looked surprised.

"... Damn it."

Only then did Vlad have no choice but to admit it.

Narrowing the angle of his elbow had been correct.

And the unidentified being inside his head knew very well how to use a sword.

If what he had done until then had been nothing more than swinging.

What he had just drawn downward by following the voice had been a single Sword Path.

* * *

They called it the back alley, but this place, too, was undeniably a district of the city.

As vast as Soara was, the area called the back alleys was also quite large, and so naturally, a district worthy of being called the back alleys' downtown had come to exist.

Because the territories of the five bosses who ruled the back alleys were often divided around this place, members of each organization restrained themselves from causing major disturbances or throwing their weight around in the downtown area.

For that reason, it was usually always filled with the voices of drunkards and merchants.

But not now.

"..."

"..."

Vlad and Zemina were walking through the downtown of the back alleys.

The two of them usually bickered and traded words, but at this moment, they had no choice but to walk quietly through the alley without saying anything.

"It's too quiet."

"Everyone knows."

Vlad quietly turned his head and looked over the shops in the downtown area.

Some shops had closed entirely, and even the ones that were open had brought all their stalls inside.

They looked as though they were ready to close their doors at any moment.

"Looks like everyone thinks it's going to blow up big this time."

"..."

There had been a few times when organization members clashed in minor ways, but it had truly been a long time since there had been such bloody signs as this.

The merchants in the downtown area seemed to expect that, after being held in for so long, a great storm would blow.

"Does it not bother you at all?"

Seeing Vlad speak indifferently, Zemina stared at him and asked.

Vlad might perhaps have to stand at the very front of the approaching storm.

She did not show it, but Zemina was trembling with anxiety at the thought that the time was not far off when the boy who had stayed by her side as if they were one body would leap into merciless violence.

Because the boy named Vlad was a friend, someone like family, and also one of the few people the girl could lean on.

"... Don't go around alone for a while. No, it'd be better if you just didn't leave the establishment at all."

However, rather than answer Zemina's question, Vlad was focused on the men watching them from the far end of the downtown area.

There stood the subordinate of One-Armed Jack whom he had knocked down, staring at him with wide-open eyes.

"... All right."

Zemina answered as she watched Vlad naturally put her behind him and exchange murderous looks with someone.

It had always been like this.

Vlad had never hesitated to fight someone in order to protect her.

Zemina had always been grateful for that, but she had never been able to say it aloud.

But now, she thought that perhaps she would have to tell him the words she had been keeping in her heart before it was too late.

With such different thoughts in their minds, Vlad and Zemina passed through the downtown area and arrived at Rose's Smiles.

When the two opened the door and entered, the gazes of the employees sitting in the lobby gathered on them for a moment, then scattered.

"What are you all doing? Not working?"

Vlad asked aloud, but no one answered him.

It was the final inspection time before Rose's Smiles opened.

It should have been a time when the employees moved busily, arranging the furnishings, and the women bustled about fixing their makeup, but now they were only gathered in twos and threes, speaking quietly.

"How annoying."

The tension from the street had reached even this place.

"What, did a war break out or something?"

Displeased by the sight, Vlad grumbled as he went up to the fourth floor where Jorge was.

What was going to happen would happen.

Watching the people gathered like rabbits, afraid of that time, Vlad's gaze turned cold.

The boy, bold by nature, had difficulty understanding this behavior from ordinary people.

"You called for me, Jorge?"

"Yeah. That's right."

And that, too, was something Jorge expected of the boy.

When Vlad came up to the fourth floor, he saw Jorge laying out food as usual.

Seeing that, the boy felt relieved.

Jorge was the same kind of person as he was.

"You said you called for me?"

"Mm. Starting today, don't sell candles anymore."

Vlad's lips rose when he heard Jorge's words.

Some might have said it was a good job, but Vlad thought selling candles did not suit him at all.

"Then what do I do from now on? Collect payments from the establishments? Or patrol the district?"

"Hmm..."

Jorge smiled as he looked at Vlad standing across from him, his eyes gleaming.

Because the young boy before him had a strong heart that did not shrink even before the boss of an organization.

If he were still a knight, he would not have hesitated at all to make the boy named Vlad his squire.

"I've received intelligence that One-Armed Jack is bringing in people from outside. They say he's a mercenary who used to be a knight."

"Like you, Jorge?"

"... Yes. Like me."

Jorge smiled bitterly and drank down the rest of his beer.

The beer he had not quite swallowed ran down along his rough beard.

"Looks like that bastard intends to go all in this time."

"..."

Vlad quietly nodded as he listened to Jorge.

One-Armed Jack, the Money Bug.

A man mainly engaged in loan-sharking, he used his overflowing wealth to gather organization members and had formed the largest force in the back alleys.

However, One-Armed Jack had always found Jorge at Rose's Smiles difficult to deal with, and that was because of Jorge's ability as a knight.

Even if one swelled one's numbers, a flock of sheep could not stand against a wolf.

Moreover, no matter how much money he had, truly skilled people did not easily lend their swords to some back-alley boss.

Because of that, Jorge's existence in practice was like a wall that One-Armed Jack found difficult to overcome.

Thus One-Armed Jack with the number of his organization members, and Jorge with the existence that was himself.

The two had strangely balanced their forces and had not encroached on one another.

But if One-Armed Jack succeeded in inviting a swordsman who could stand against Jorge, the story could not help but change.

"If that happens, it's true that we'll be at a disadvantage. That's why I need you."

"Me?"

When his name suddenly came up, Vlad looked at Jorge with his eyes rounded.

"Yes. It's something only you, the former brat in our organization, can do."

Jorge was smiling.

"As the boss of the organization, I'll give you your first mission."

There was not the slightest tension or fear in him.

Only an expression as if he truly had high hopes for the blond boy waiting for his words.

Watching promising young things was always bound to be enjoyable.