Chapter 69 - If You Keep Taking One Step at a Time (1)

In the middle of a snowy mountain thick with snow fog.

A black-haired man was down on one knee, watching the scene before him.

"... They're all dead."

"It certainly looks that way."

At Rutiger's words, Dorothea nodded.

The corpses of monsters lay frozen solid atop the cold breath exhaled by the white mountain.

Though there was no gruesome stench, the traces of their final death throes were embedded plainly in their expressions.

"They were taken down in an instant. I don't think the first one even realized it was dead."

Dorothea spoke as she approached the corpse of a gray orc whose eyes were wide open.

"They moved like this."

"..."

Rutiger walked over beside Dorothea and followed the direction she pointed.

Indeed, she was right.

The first corpse had been looking forward.

The corpse in the middle had been trying to look back.

The last corpse had finally turned around, but had been unable to dodge.

In that way, the corpses of orcs scattered around them numbered close to fifty by a rough count.

"So it killed them all in the time it took to turn one's head once."

Rutiger grasped the situation and nodded.

The corpses of the gray orcs had been shattered to pieces, as if they had collided with something enormous.

Whatever had approached without a sound and trampled over the orcs in a gap where they could do nothing had run forward without even looking back, leaving only death behind.

Rutiger looked down at the orcs' limbs scattered here and there and let out a thick plume of breath.

"... Joseph's report was right."

With those words, Rutiger raised his head and looked at the mountain dyed white.

But the snowy mountain with its sharp peak did not answer Rutiger's gaze as to what it held within itself.

The perfect being, torn to pieces by the Swordmaster, had fallen beneath the earth while scattering its blood all across the world.

Thus were born the remnants of the fallen dragon.

Some dragons lost their wings, and some dragons lost their eyes.

In that way, the dragons were scattered throughout the world, having even forgotten that they were dragons.

And now, though for what reason no one knew, one being with the most perfect legs had realized that it was a dragon.

※※※※

"Eek!"

In the middle of the broad training ground, a blond boy ran with beads of sweat pouring down him.

Vlad was running without rest, heavy sandbags tied to both arms and both legs.

NEIGH!

Perhaps finding it funny how his will ran ahead while he floundered because of the heavy sandbags, the pitch-black one followed along beside Vlad, bounding around.

Seeing how excited the creature looked, Vlad could only breathe roughly.

"H-How long do I have to do this?"

"Until you think you've reached your limit."

"No, why? Why go that far?"

"You said you wanted to learn the aura I use, didn't you? Then quit whining and do it."

At Lamund's firm answer, Vlad turned his head away, gritted his teeth, and began running.

With every drop of sweat that fell from the tip of his chin, he poured out resentment toward Lamund in his heart.

"..."

Lamund fell into thought as he watched Vlad run.

He had been born in a dark back alley, had lived among gaudy prostitutes, and on top of that, the boy was pointlessly flashy in appearance.

There were prejudices that naturally came with that, yet the boy before his eyes merely ran on silently like an ox plowing a field, without a single complaint.

'He's strangely diligent.'

Watching Vlad devote himself silently to training, Lamund felt relieved.

Because he had confirmed, at least, that the boy was not someone who ran wild relying on talent alone.

"Think even while you run! Imagine putting aura inside your body!"

The old knight shouted loudly at Vlad as he ran, panting.

Making someone run blindly while carrying a heavy load might, at a glance, seem like an old-fashioned training method, but Lamund was not simply a stubborn man who worshiped old values.

His training method had been strictly arranged with Vlad's current condition in mind.

The boy had talent and will, but he lacked the swordsmanship and stamina to draw them out.

Rather, his outstanding physical ability had made him neglect the stamina training he needed to keep building steadily, and Lamund had noticed that and was currently driving the boy hard.

"How did you do it back then! When you pulled that barbarian bastard down to the ground!"

A body that met its limit was bound to keep growing, and a body drained of strength was naturally bound to attempt to fill itself with something else.

Using the senses he had acquired over long years, Lamund was constantly checking the boy's limits.

"Grrrrgh!"

Lamund's shouts came whenever Vlad had just about forgotten them.

Listening to those shouts, Vlad closed his left eye once more and began drawing up the world.

The boy's world, unable to be expressed through a sword, was scattering everywhere, having lost its way.

'Is this really working?'

Vlad had run around the training ground so much that he could no longer tell how long it had been, and the taste of blood was rising from the back of his throat.

But Lamund's gaze still did not waver, and every time Vlad saw that gaze, stubbornness and a sense of relief spread through his chest.

So I can go farther.

I guess I can still do this.

Effort without a clear goal or direction would be nothing more than futile struggling, but right now there was someone beside the boy firmly setting the path for him, and that was why he could move forward without hesitation.

Then, the moment Vlad set his left foot, completely drained of strength, onto the ground.

"...!"

His body, utterly drained, seized and held onto a streak of color from within the world in order to fill the boy's will to move forward.

The sensation from that time, which he had been constantly conscious of even while running, crept up and touched the boy's thigh, and in that instant, it pulled hard on the boy's muscles.

Like the string of a bow shooting an arrow.

"Ah!"

For an instant, his vision was pulled forward.

At least, that was what Vlad thought.

With a short scream, Vlad suddenly leaped ahead, and the pitch-black one's eyes went round as the boy overtook it.

["Try to break your fall. Otherwise you'll get hurt."]

"Uuuugh!"

At a movement even he had not expected, Vlad flailed in the air for a moment, then tumbled across the ground with a crash.

Dust rose in wisps along with the boy's fall.

"Ha..."

Seeing that, Lamund had no choice but to let out a sigh that burst from deep in his chest.

It was a sigh somewhere between joy and emptiness.

"... I did tell him to do it, but he went and did it right away."

When giving away something one cherished, regret was bound to come with it.

And for Lamund, the body-strengthening art he had honed and refined over his entire life was exactly that sort of thing.

"Uaaah! I've got a cramp! A cramp!"

NEIGH!

Vlad rolled on the ground covered in dust, clutching his thigh.

The pitch-black one came up beside Vlad and snorted angrily, as if to say the boy had dared to overtake it.

But even while watching that commotion, Lamund merely smacked his lips and slowly walked over.

Because there were some things one could not easily let go of, even when old.

※※※※

Vlad was sprawled weakly over an empty table.

Dinner prepared by Marcella had been set out right in front of him, but right now he was in a state where lifting even a single spoon was difficult.

"... Am I going to die at this rate?"

In the morning, guided sparring with Jager.

At lunch, aura training with Lamund.

And in the evening, discussions with the voice about the day's results.

It was a situation where he should have been grateful for even one person's teaching, and Vlad knew that well too, but the body that actually had to accept it was screaming.

The teachings Vlad had to accept from his masters were threefold, and each and every one of them was a world out of the ordinary.

"Hey. Boss. Been doing well?"

"... Piss off."

Vlad growled at Got, who was smiling at him as he came up the stairs.

"Usually, I listen to what you say, boss, but I can't piss off right now. Lord Joseph told me to stay here from now on."

Got smiled at Vlad, who was flailing weakly, and set down the luggage he had brought beside the table.

"Where there's a horse, there ought to be a stableman."

"..."

Watching Got make light of it, saying he had indeed felt some sort of connection with that creature back then, Vlad gave him a broad grin.

"Really?"

It was unfair for him to be the only one suffering like a dog.

But if the two of them did it together, his heart would be a little more at ease.

Thinking of the pitch-black one that had broken out of the stable twice, saying it hated cramped places, Vlad shrugged his shoulders.

"Good luck."

"Huh? Uh-huh."

Seeing Vlad give him a strange smile, Got felt inwardly uneasy.

Vlad forced his stiff head to turn, as if it had gone rigid, and looked at Zemina sitting across from him.

Zemina was organizing the gifts that had arrived for him and writing up a list.

Though the splendid appearance from a few days ago was nowhere to be found, the earrings hanging at her ears were still sparkling.

"Should I buy you a pair of earrings?"

"These are expensive."

"But they're Marcella's."

"They're mine now."

She was the girl who had drawn in the pitch-black one with the dress and ornaments Marcella had given her.

Because she had solved something he had desperately wanted done, Vlad wanted to do something for her in return, but Zemina coldly rejected the offer.

"Instead of worrying about someone else's earrings when you don't even get a proper wage, why don't you work hard and save your money?"

"I do get an allowance."

"Ha!"

Seeing Vlad say proudly that he received an allowance, Zemina snorted.

"Do you know that? The cost of that old man staying here right now is all being put under your name."

"... Why?"

At the unexpected words that popped out of Zemina's mouth, Vlad sprang upright as if he had been struck by lightning.

"I don't know. They said you should at least pay that much."

"Why!"

"I don't know either!"

Zemina shouted back and shoved the ledger she had been writing up until then toward Vlad with a thump.

"Anyway, you're a debtor now! Keep that in mind!"

As he watched Zemina glare at him as if telling him not to be satisfied with barely receiving an allowance, then go down the stairs, Vlad's gaze shook wildly.

"Why me?"

As unsteady as Vlad's gaze, the ledger Zemina had written was filled with crooked letters.

Just as the boy was trying to move forward, the girl too was striving to follow behind.

※※※※

"Hmph. Trying to pay off his debt with a mere pair of earrings? Not a chance."

NEIGH!

Zemina went down to the stable prepared on the first floor and held out a carrot toward the pitch-black one that had been waiting for her.

"You think so too, don't you? There, there, you're eating so well."

Chewing the bright red carrot Zemina had given it, the pitch-black one snorted as if in a good mood.

"Good. Eat this and help me a little. All right?"

As if it understood Zemina's words, the pitch-black one nodded repeatedly.

Marcella had said it.

If you wanted to stop a knight in his tracks, you had to grab hold of the horse he rode first.

Listening to the advice given by the former rose of Soara, Zemina steeled her resolve.

That she would not end with merely watching the boy's back.