『Many boys dream of being the hero.』
『But not every boy can be the hero.』
『At least, that was the truth for me.』
The moment I took Petel’s sword into my mouth, his life surfaced from the depths. The image of a young boy, healthy and brimming with potential, flickered before my eyes. The memories of the knight contained within the blade began from his childhood.
The first sword he received from his father.
A blade as large and sharp as young Petel’s own torso.
『I simply realized that fact too late.』
Petel’s sword had no name.
*
Two days passed in a flash.
After I devoured Petel’s sword, Liam did not suggest any special training. The regimen he proposed was incredibly simple and familiar.
「From now until the honor duel begins, you will swing your sword.」
「There will be no rest. You will swing until your body feels like it’s going to burst from the heat.」
This time, I didn’t doubt or argue. Instead, I nodded, prepared a blade similar to Petel’s, gripped it tight, and swung.
“Whew.”
Even as the muscles in my forearms tightened, my shoulders screamed in pain, and fatigue weighed down my body like lead, I swung and swung again.
It was then that Seol-yoon approached.
“…Do you intend to fight in Petel’s stead?”
“I do.”
At my words, Seol-yoon hesitated for a moment.
“If you need a sparring partner, let me know.”
That was something I hadn’t expected to hear.
I continued swinging my sword without pause as I spoke.
“Seol-yoon, didn’t you follow me here to reach a higher realm of swordsmanship?”
“I did.”
“And yet, you aren’t stopping me from fighting a knight who is a Sword Runner?”
Whoosh—
The sword cut through the air.
“Furthermore, since following me, you haven’t found any clues to the sword or had any amazing experiences. Yet, you haven’t expressed any dissatisfaction… You’ve just stayed quiet. I’m curious. If it were me, I think I would have had plenty of complaints.”
It was a reasonable question.
Seol-yoon replied calmly.
“I believe that watching your path is the key to finding that higher road.”
“….”
“Don’t worry. This is my choice, and I’m satisfied right now without any complaints, little gladiator.”
Seol-yoon looked at me with her characteristically indifferent eyes.
“And even if you fight a Sword Runner, I don’t think you’ll die.”
“…?”
“It’s just a feeling.”
Seol-yoon’s cold voice drifted through the air.
“Can you promise me just one thing?”
“What is it?”
“If you come back alive, let’s have a real fight. Not a sparring match, but a real one, like last time.”
Seol-yoon spoke while stroking the sword at her waist.
“I think that would be a very valuable leap forward for me.”
It wasn’t a difficult request.
Besides, sparring with Seol-yoon would be beneficial for me as well. Having a genius like her as a running mate was a stroke of luck for a beginner like me.
Of course, there was a condition that had to be met first.
“Yes. As long as I survive.”
Whoosh!
I swung the sword once more. Powerfully.
『A crude swordsmanship that could be found anywhere.』
『A featureless appearance, a boring way of speaking.』
With every glistening drop of sweat, the memories of the sword’s former owner flowed into me.
The life of my kind neighbor, who had now left this world.
『I was a knight you could find anywhere.』
*
I was a knight you could find anywhere.
No one paid me any attention.
“Petel? I think that was the name, right?”
There were far too many knights like me in the city. A young man born into a decent family who read chivalric novels, practiced the sword, and graduated from the academy.
“That is correct.”
Among them, I was an ignorant and exceptionally rigid man.
“You have no flexibility.”
I was the kind of person who couldn’t offer empty flattery at the drinking parties knights often held. At the time, I thought that was a cool thing to do.
“You’re a boring man, Petel. Truly.”
The protagonists of chivalric novels never bend their convictions and always say what needs to be said, no matter the situation. The loyal subjects recorded in history books also spoke their honest minds, even at the cost of their lives.
I thought that unyielding posture was magnificent.
“You don’t need to come to these gatherings anymore.”
But the reason they were remembered so magnificently was that they were great figures who defined an era, or protagonists who stood in everyone’s spotlight.
“You always ruin the mood.”
I had become a boring, rigid, old-fashioned knight who lacked social skills and couldn’t read the room—someone people avoided.
Whenever that happened, I would tell myself that a true knight didn’t need friends. I would swing my sword alone, believing that one day, everyone would recognize my sincerity.
However.
“Your unyielding conviction is truly magnificent!”
“Hahaha, the young man has spirit!”
The world was cold.
“That’s why he was able to manifest wings at such a young age. As expected, Sword Runners are just different. You must come to the next gathering!”
A knight who acted and spoke exactly like me was instantly the center of attention. He wasn’t more eloquent than I was, nor was he better at catering to others.
The only difference between that man—who told outdated jokes and acted as noble as a protagonist in a chivalric novel—and me was one thing.
I was a Sword Walker, and he was a Sword Runner.
“….”
It was around then that I realized.
I was a man who could never be the protagonist.
And for a man who wasn’t the protagonist to survive, he had to shave down his convictions, cater to others, and become the kind of person who would fit as an extra in a chivalric novel.
“You all are truly amazing, as expected.”
Only then could I avoid being kicked off the stage.
“Please, give me any task. I will carry it out with honor.”
That was how “Loyal Petel” was born.
I didn’t care even when others mocked me as a “well-behaved dog.”
Because that was the method I chose to survive.
Even if self-loathing surged occasionally, even if I felt ashamed of myself, I pushed forward on the path I had chosen.
Because the shining world I had dreamed of since I was a boy, the world of chivalric novels I had read since childhood, was right here.
Because I wanted to exist as a part of them, even if I only had one foot in that world.
“…Petel! Peteeel!”
I lived my life half-dazed.
Time accelerated within the repetitive daily routine, and I became a knight of an ambiguous age, a bit too old to be called a young man.
The event that changed me within this treadmill-like world happened suddenly.
“Papa said you’re going to protect me from now on!”
A well-behaved dog.
Because I was deemed trustworthy, I was assigned to guard the youngest daughter of the master I served. She was a tiny young lady, a girl with a fresh, innocent charm who had yet to mature.
“I’m counting on you. Everyone said so—that Petel is someone I can trust.”
The girl’s name was Daisy.
Like the flower.
“Loyal Petel. That’s right, everyone calls you that.”
The girl’s giggle was like a puppy’s.
“It’s wonderful. You’re like the protagonist of a chivalric novel. A cool knight who never betrays and upholds his honor. I’m so happy you became my guard knight. Heehee.”
An innocent girl is bound to bring joy to everyone.
Despite being a noble, Daisy was always popular at social parties, loved by the people of the estate, and was a brightly shining child adored by all.
“Petel.”
That was, until my master became embroiled in the bloody succession struggle of the Iron Kingdom and fell into ruin, his assets seized and his mansion burned.
“Sir Petel.”
The girl’s fluttering dresses were replaced by old, shabby linens. She had aged to the point where she could no longer be called a girl, and having been stripped of her title, she was now of a status where she could no longer casually call my name.
“Why do you still protect my family?”
Even so, I remained by Daisy’s side.
“We have become destitute and haven’t been able to pay your wages for two months. We can hardly provide a room befitting a knight, nor can we serve you proper meals. So why are you still here?”
I didn’t know either.
I, who had compromised with reality to the point where I could offer empty flattery, cater to others at gatherings, and become a loyal dog—I didn’t know why I was still here.
I still didn’t know why I was wasting my youth and taking up my sword in this place that could provide neither money nor honor, a place far removed from the world of a chivalric novel’s protagonist.
I looked at Daisy.
She had become a woman, her youthful freshness gone, a woman with a plain appearance rather than a particularly beautiful one. Yet whenever I looked at her, I still remembered the past.
“Because I am Loyal Petel.”
The words she had once said to me still remained inside me.
“I will never betray and will uphold my honor. Always.”
Perhaps I had realized it at some point.
To her, and her alone, a worthless man like me might be a knight like the protagonist of some novel. That was why I couldn’t leave her.
I felt as though I had returned to being the rigid, stubborn, boring, and crude man I was before I compromised with reality.
“Like the protagonist of a chivalric novel.”
It wasn’t so bad.
“I, too, am very happy to have become your guard knight.”
Perhaps I still hadn’t moved on from being that boy.
Just as Daisy still wore a girl-like smile upon hearing my words.
“Thank you, Sir Petel.”
And three days later, Daisy appeared in tears.
At a party she had attended to try and gain even a small foothold in society, she had suffered an indelible humiliation. I saw Daisy’s torn clothes and the hideous wound that had been inflicted near her chest.
I picked up my sword.
“Sir Petel, don’t go. The opponent is the son of a Baron. We are ruined and cannot protect you, and the knights they hire are Sword Walkers, but they are experienced killers who have survived countless wars. Please, you are one of the few precious people I have left.”
Even as Daisy tried to stop me, I stepped forward.
What kind of courage had suddenly surged within me?
Standing proudly at the main gate of the Baron’s lavish mansion in my old armor, I looked at the drunken son of the Baron and said without a moment’s hesitation:
“I challenge you to an honor duel.”
That was the first honor duel of my life.
.
.
.
“Whew, ha—”
As I swung my sword repeatedly, day had turned to evening before I knew it. In the evening sky was the sunset Petel had always gazed upon. An orange sunset that stained the heavens.
「If it’s an unrefined Sword Runner, there is a possibility.」
「Most likely, his intention was to create another pair of wings for himself by trampling over Petel’s convictions.」
My arm muscles trembled.
Because I had continued to swing the sword with all my might, I was reaching my limit.
“Does trampling on someone else’s convictions help in increasing one’s skill?”
「At a realm as high as a Sword Runner, yes. You see, once the sword passes a certain level, one’s own values inevitably form.」
Liam continued to speak.
「A swordsman with destructive values grows by trampling and crushing the convictions of others, while a swordsman with upright and solid values grows by strictly tempering themselves.」
“….”
「That fellow likely has destructive values. And those types usually grow quickly but are unstable. We of the Caravan, who pursue solidity above all else, have always existed as the natural enemy of such wicked things.」
As the day passed, the cold gradually set in.
I felt the chilly evening air biting at my skin.
「If the swords you have eaten so far intertwine with Petel’s sword, they will display great synergy. The things you have slowly built up are beginning to shine, and your body is being rapidly forged as well.」
“…Is that so?”
「Yes. Of course, even taking all those points into account, the probability of victory is significantly low.」
Liam warned me.
「The wings of a Sword Runner are a power that defies the laws of the world. You will feel as though you are fighting an opponent who is cheating. Even if they are incomplete, to you, they are monsters.」
Just as he said, Sword Runners were beings who existed like ghosts on the battlefield. Their terrifying reputation spread far beyond the Iron Kingdom, across the entire continent.
「By nature, proof is this difficult. At this rate, you might die in vain just like your father. Like that knight fellow who couldn’t even last a week before being consumed by disease.」
“….”
「Reality is this harsh. If you want to find the answer you seek against this unreasonable world, you must become a much harder Steel than you think.」
My head was spinning.
It felt like my entire body was going to explode.
Even so, I swung the sword.
It felt as if steam was rising from my body.
My muscles were heated, my head was hot, and the sky was slowly being dyed in orange.
Amidst my hot breaths, for some reason, I was captivated by the sunset before my eyes. My gaze was stolen by it for a moment. Then, I lowered my head and looked at the sword I held.
A blade that resembled the sword Petel had used his entire life.
This sword still had no name.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to me.
“I want to give this sword a name.”
「What name?」
I answered without hesitation.
While looking at the sunset Petel had loved.
“「Twilight」.”
*
Two days passed.
The knight order stationed at the village entrance had set up a temporary fence to create an arena where the honor duel would take place. On the left side of the arena stood their vice-captain, Meken.
Meken was waiting for his opponent, his sharp-edged sword already drawn. Around the time the sun reached its zenith, the figure of a man in silver armor could be seen slowly walking down from the mountain ridge.
“…?”
Meken doubted his own eyes.
The man who appeared through the dust was Petel. Petel, with an upright gaze and no sign of illness. He looked just like the Petel Meken remembered from long ago—like Steel.
No, that’s not it. That is…
But Meken soon realized it was an illusion. When he blinked, the truth finally became visible. The person descending the hill was the village boy he had seen before.
Yet, strangely, an elegance unique to a knight flowed from the boy. His posture, so rigid it was almost stifling, made it look as if Petel’s soul had entered the boy’s body.
There was even something else strange.
Was his body always that well-built?
The boy’s body looked sturdier and more solid than before.
Like a knight who had trained for years.
It was strange.
He didn’t think the boy had that kind of physique two days ago.
The boy walked with perfect posture and arrived at the arena where the knights were gathered. Meken looked at the boy who had stepped into the arena and asked.
“Where is Knight Petel?”
“Petel is not coming.”
“Did he finally give up and run away?”
“He is dead. He died of illness.”
The boy spoke in the manner of a noble.
Meken replied.
“Since he did not show up for the honor duel, it is my victory.”
“No. Even if Petel is dead, the honor duel is not canceled.”
“What kind of wordplay is this?”
The boy drew the sword from his waist.
“I will fight this honor duel as his Proxy Warrior.”
The blade the boy drew was far too similar to the sword Petel had used in life. Meken frowned for a moment at the unexpected situation, but soon, the corners of his mouth curled up.
Fwip, a pair of wings unfurled.
Meken spoke.
“That sounds entertaining as well.”
And so, the honor duel began.
*
「Name: Twilight」
「A long, sharp sword used by Knight Petel.」
「A typical longsword used by knights.」
.
.
.
「Consumption Effect」
「Acquired Petel’s swordsmanship.」
「The body is forged to be suitable for Knight Petel’s swordsmanship.」
「A body in which the blood of Steel flows becomes stronger the more it is tempered.」
