Chapter 12 TRG Vol. 1 Chapter 4 Part 1

Chapter 4 (The Public Story)

After ‘releasing’ Arche and Norn, I left town, thinking that my next destination should probably be a more populated area.

Thorn, the orphan from the countryside—a classic ‘underdog’ protagonist.

Arche and Norn, the sisters whose village was destroyed by monsters—a ‘revenge’ protagonist pair.

The candidates I’d taught my fake sword style to and then abandoned… just looking at their setups, they were all more than qualified to be main characters. If things go well, they’ll grind levels on the local small-fry, travel around, beat stronger monsters, and eventually take down a demon king or something, becoming the stuff of bard’s tales.

But… and it feels bad to say it, but… they’re all from the boonies. An environment even worse than a ‘starting town’ only produces weak-ass monsters like squirrels and horses. The strongest they had were bears and wolves.

With such pathetic monsters, it’s probably going to take forever for those three to level up. I mean, I’ve killed a decent number of monsters, and I still have to hit a squirrel monster a bunch of times. At this rate of leveling, I’ll be a crappy, bottom-tier adventurer forever. …Not that I’m strong, I already know that.

If the monsters are too weak, the leveling efficiency is crap, and it’ll take way too long for my disciples to become famous. And, if possible, I’d like to be able to smirk about my disciples’ exploits in a tavern before I’m a senile old man.

With that in mind, I started asking around for the most populated city in each new place I visited, making that my next destination.

It was during that journey that I met the man who would become my fourth disciple.

One day, at a village I’d just visited, I heard that the ‘Lord’s Capital’—the seat of the noble who governs this whole region—was nearby.

That’s bound to be more prosperous than anywhere I’ve been so far. I set out for it, walking along a ‘highway’ that was really just a dirt path, unpaved, and only recognizable as a road because the grass wasn’t growing there.

That’s when I heard a carriage thundering up behind me.

“You there! Get out of the road, if you please!”

A man in gaudy armor, riding a horse and leading the carriage, yelled at me. I scrambled to the side of the road. The man on the horse and an equally-ornate carriage blew past me at high speed.

Hmph. So that’s what a nobleman’s carriage looks like. I was watching it go when I heard a heavy THUD, THUD, THUD from behind me, and a rough HUFF, HUFF of breath. I had a bad feeling—no, a bad certainty—and when I turned around, there it was: a massive, red-furred boar, big enough to look up at, clearly chasing the carriage. And from its forehead, the familiar reddish-black horn. A Boar Monster.

When I’d jumped out of the carriage’s way, I had apparently landed right in the monster’s path. It skidded to a halt (in a very un-boar-like way) and just stood there, glaring at me, its hot breath washing over my face.

I just glared right back at it. The old geezer back home told me that in these situations, the one who looks away first, loses. And what’s this guy’s problem, anyway? Weren’t you chasing that carriage? You wanna fight me? Go ahead, but you’re the one who’s gonna get covered in blood… mostly my blood, from you goring me. But the boar monster didn’t seem to want to fight immediately. It just pawed the ground, watching me warily.

I drew my sword as a threat, hoping it would get the message and just go home, but then I heard footsteps approaching from behind me.

“My apologies for before. Allow me to offer my assistance.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the boar, so I just ignored him. The same gaudily-armored old guy who’d just blown past me came to a stop at my side. He was holding a sword that looked way more expensive than my cheap, mass-produced blade, and he even had a shield. What did this guy just say?

He just suddenly appears, dumps a boar monster on me, and now he’s ‘assisting’? I was praying this thing would get bored and leave!

“I shall devote myself to support, so as not to be a hindrance.”

I was staying silent, trying not to provoke the boar, but the armored man took a step back, trying to make me stand in front. Why are you backing up? In this position, I’m the one who has to face it head-on! You’re the one with the fancy sword and shield and armor, you get in front!

The protest died in my throat. If I argued, this old guy would probably kill me before the monster did. I just raised my sword. Of course, I had absolutely no intention of attacking first. If this boar would just go home, that would be fantastic.

If it leaves, I’ll just say it got scared of my aura and ran away. And if it does attack, I’ll just shove this old guy in front of it.

Just as I was thinking that, the boar must have lost patience. It squealed and charged. Taking a full-on charge from a boar the size of a truck is just suicide, so I had to dodge. I minimized my body’s movement, shifted just enough to get off its center line, and as it rushed past, I slapped its flank with the flat of my sword, just to nudge its trajectory.

They say boars are ‘single-minded’ in their charge, but in reality, they can corner better than you’d think. That’s why I had to dodge without telegraphing my movement, to fool its eyes. This… is the ‘Cowardly Dodge Technique’ I mastered fighting small-fry!

My dodge successfully redirected the boar’s aggro… onto the armored old guy. He didn’t take the hit head-on, either, deflecting it with his shield, but I could tell from his face that he was struggling.

“Swordsman of the road!” he yelled at me.

I wanted to pretend I didn’t know who he was talking to, but now wasn’t the time. I took a test-swing at the boar’s neck. My sword, as expected, bounced off with a high-pitched CLANG. Yep. Knew it.

Worse, that one hit had put the boar’s aggro right back on me. It swung its head, trying to gore me with the terrifyingly thick tusks growing from its lower jaw. I managed to dodge, but it caught the hem of my clothes, tearing a huge rip through my leather armor. This stupid pig! It ruined my only good set of clothes!

In a rage, I aimed my sword tip right at the boar’s head as it swung up, and I put my full weight into a downward thrust. I was aiming for the one weak spot even a hard-skinned monster has: the eye. With an eye, I wouldn’t need to do the chip-damage strategy. If I was lucky, I could kill it in one hit. The squirrels and horses were too small to aim for a target like that, but this giant pig? I can hit that!

I plunged my sword into its eye, then leaped onto its back, driving the blade in deeper with my body weight. The monster shrieked in agony and began to thrash wildly.

“Aaaaaaaaahhhhh!“

I’ve hated rollercoasters ever since my past life. Even a mechanical bull is terrifying. So for me, this ‘boar monster rodeo’ was a nightmare. I just shrieked pathetically and clung to my sword. If I let go, I’d be thrown off, and the enraged monster would definitely stomp me into a red paste. Please die, please die, please die!

I just kept praying and putting my weight on the sword. The monster’s movements gradually slowed… and then it finally went still, its massive body slumping to the ground. I… I did it. It’s dead. If I could kill it, it must not have been that strong.

“To dispatch such a vicious monster so easily… you must be a truly renowned swordsman.”

As I was catching my breath, the useless armored old guy walked over, already starting with the flattery. This bastard! He’s the one with the deluxe equipment, and he just stood there, terrified! And now he’s calling the monster ‘vicious’ just to cover his own ass! He’s trying to make it seem like the monster was so strong, it was natural for him to be scared. He’s just like me! I’m starting to feel a sense of kinship.

Still, if he wants to misunderstand and think I’m strong, I have no reason to correct him. I just stayed silent and looked meaningfully at the carriage, which had stopped a short distance away. I never say I’m strong. That would be fraud. But if other people want to assume I’m strong… well, that’s not my fault.

As I was striking my cool pose, the carriage turned and came toward us. Oh? Are they going to give me a ride to town as thanks? The carriage door opened.

“Swordsman! A magnificent display of skill! You have saved me, and I shall reward you for it!”

A blond, blue-eyed boy stepped out. He had refined features, but the smug, pretentious smile on his face was just… dripping with ‘shitty brat’ energy. Ah, yep. This kid’s a shitty brat. No doubt about it.

“My name is Knox. I am the third son of House Fairholt, which governs this entire region. It is a noble’s duty to reward those who save them. Rowan! Escort this man to the carriage.”

The shitty brat, Knox, ordered the armored old guy next to me. The old guy, “Rowan,” gestured to the carriage. “Please, do not hesitate.”

I was getting tired of walking, so I accepted. So, his name is Rowan. Looks and sounds so tough, but he was scared of a pig.

I got in the carriage with Knox and a servant, and we headed for the capital. On the way, Knox peppered me with questions about my journey and my sword.

“Swordsman, why do you travel?”

“Your hands… they look as though they have endured unimaginable training. What is your goal?”

“Tell me, what has left the strongest impression on your journey? Have you seen anything… interesting?”

I’d answer one question, and he’d immediately ask three more.

I obviously couldn’t say, “I’m a talentless hack trying to pose as a master, so I travel around tricking ‘protagonist’ types into learning my fake sword style and then I abandon them.” I just… dodged the questions and gave vague answers.

Eventually, I ended up telling him about Thorn, Arche, and Norn. Yeah, I’ve had a few disciples with… ‘circumstances.’

“I see… such a story. And how did you teach these disciples of yours?”

As we talked, Knox started to relax. His arrogant tone faded, replaced by the polite speech of a high-class son. How did I teach them? Uh… I just taught them the basic forms and then made them do my daily routine…

“My father is the Margrave of this vast frontier. Please, allow me to introduce you. If he hears of a swordsman of your caliber, he will be most eager to meet you.”

Because I’d been very vague about the fact that I’d only fought small-fry like squirrels and horses, Knox had apparently decided I was some kind of grand swordmaster. Eh, as long as he’s misunderstanding on his own, it’s fine.

“So, you are the swordsman Knox spoke of. For saving my son, and Rowan… you have my thanks.”

The man Knox introduced me to, in a fortress-like castle, was a super-muscular, handsome, middle-aged guy. …Knox, your dad looks way stronger than I am.

“Rowan tells me you felled a vicious monster with a single thrust. You have saved a treasure of my domain. Please, allow us to host you in our castle.”

That bastard Rowan! He was clearly trying to cover for his own cowardice by really hyping up that boar monster to his boss.

That night, at dinner with Knox and his father, the conversation turned to my sword again.

“I have an eldest and a second son, but they are in the Capital. I wish I could have them greet you.”

“My brothers are the finest sword and magic-users in our family,” Knox chimed in. “But, of course, they would be no match for you, Swordsman.”

They kept praising me like this, and it was getting really uncomfortable. No, I’m pretty sure I’m weaker than both your brothers. Wait, one of them can use magic? Then he’s definitely stronger than me! The awkwardness was so bad, I did something I never do. I got humble. Because if they found out I was just a crappy adventurer-wannabe, I’d suffer a fate worse than death.

“Hm. So, you possess humility as well, not just strength,” his father said, completely misinterpreting my panic. “I have a proposal. While you are staying in the castle… would you perhaps consider… instructing my knights?”

Me? Teach actual knights? Hah! Nice joke. Absolutely not! They’re professional knights! They’re definitely stronger than me! I only fooled Rowan because he was just a bodyguard, probably a failure who couldn’t make it as a real knight. If I tried to teach the real ones, they’d see right through me. Then I’d be driven out of the castle… or, worse, executed for deceiving them.

I tried to dodge the ‘punishment game’ by mumbling, “My sword isn’t a ‘proper’ style for knights… it’s not something I can just… teach…”

“In that case,” Knox suddenly interrupted, “if you will not teach the knights, please! Teach me!”

Crap. Him? Well… he’s already convinced I’m strong, so… as long as I don’t have to spar with him in public… maybe I could teach him the fake style… …I wasn’t keen on it. Because, no matter how I looked at him, Knox was not a protagonist. Blond, blue-eyed, third son of a noble, and a total shitty brat. This kid is 100% the ‘rival character’ who gets beaten by the hero in the first chapter. So, no. No disciple for him. I shot down Knox’s idea, and the day ended without incident.

After that, they told me I was free to do as I pleased, so I enjoyed my time. Knox would show me around the castle, and I got to read all the books in their ancient library. Of course, I still did my daily swings, but only in secret, where no one could see me.

“Please, I beg you, make me your disciple!”

“I have re-examined my coddled life! I have even begun joining the knight’s training!”

“I’ve been… I’ve been swinging my sword, just like you!”

But… Knox was always there, clinging to me, begging to be my disciple. And every time, I’d make up an excuse and run away. He’s a noble, he’s never going to have to fight. Shouldn’t he be studying?

“My tutor has already given me his approval! He says I am well ahead of my studies!”

Dammit! It seems that when I told him to study first, the brat, who just wanted to play swords, actually went and finished all his studies. This is why I hate talented people! I couldn’t understand a single thing in that library!

Then, one day, I was cornered. Knox’s father, who had stayed quiet until now, chimed in.

“Swordsman. Knox has been this persistent. I do not care what kind of hell you put him through. While you are here… would you not, at least… watch him?”

“Knox has changed completely these past few days. He is applying himself to his studies, and he is taking the sword seriously for the first time. Of course, it may not be enough for you… but, I ask this as a favor.”

Being pressured by not just Knox, but also by the guy who was giving me free room and board… how could I refuse? Wait… did he say ‘hell’? He does realize my training is basically just torture, right? Is he… is he really okay with that?

“As I said before. I do not mind.”

“I am prepared for any hardship!” Knox declared.

When I asked, they both affirmed it instantly, without a second’s thought. Crap. I’m really out of excuses. I went silent, trying to think my way out of this, but Knox’s father went in for the kill.

“Of course, I am not proposing such a thing for free. How about… a sum like this?”

The amount Knox’s father proposed… I nodded without a single moment of hesitation. This is way better money than I make grubbing around for monsters! Physical labor sucks! Long live being a private tutor to the nobility!

“I look forward to learning from you, Master!”

And just like that, I’d acquired a ‘rival-type noble brat’ as a disciple. I was just starting to wonder how I was going to torment him when Rowan, who had been standing behind Knox’s father, stepped forward. What now?

“In that case, might I be permitted to receive your instruction as well?”

Huh?

“Oh, an excellent idea! By all means, please train Rowan as well. He has been Knox’s sword instructor up until now. And, of course, we will compensate you for the extra pupil.”

And, somehow, I was now also roped into teaching this muscle-bound old guy who was clearly older than me. Ehhhh?

So now I was stuck teaching both Knox, the handsome blond-haired, blue-eyed kid, and Rowan, the imposing man with his slightly faded blond hair, hazel eyes, and wild beard. The next day, I was already stressing about how to handle this.

I’ll concede that if it were just Knox, I could have managed. But Rowan… even if he’s a failure, he’s still a knight. If I put him through my normal training routine, he’d breeze right through it, and he’d immediately know I was a fraud. Wait… was that Rowan’s plan all along? To expose me?

I mean, I’m the one who’s getting paid just to pretend to teach a noble kid. If someone swooped in and stole a sweet gig like that from me, I’d definitely hold a grudge. So, Rowan’s plan must be to find my flaws. If so, that makes things simple. I’ll just put him through a training so insane he won’t have the time or energy to look for any.

With that in mind, I began my ‘training’ (torture) the very next day.

“Alright, if you’re going to wear armor, you can start by running in it until you collapse. After that, no breaks, we start practice swings. What’s that? The armor’s too heavy? Do you think monsters care if you’re tired? You’re a knight, aren’t you? You’re not going to ask the monster to wait while you catch your breath, are you? You’re a weakling! A loser! Swing that sword! Collapse already!” I just kept taunting them, working them until they were completely and utterly spent.

“S-Such… harsh… training… this… is…”

“I’m… gonna… die…”

After the first day, Rowan and Knox were pale as ghosts, muttering nonsense as they lay sprawled on the ground. Pathetic. A couple of weak-ass sprouts. Thorn, Arche, and Norn had way more guts than this.

“Ngh… To say such a thing… is a dishonor to the knighthood…!”

My taunts must have hit a nerve. Rowan tried to get up, his legs shaking like a newborn fawn’s, but his armor was too heavy and he just crashed back to the ground. Perfect. If I break them this thoroughly, they won’t have the mental capacity to go looking for my flaws.

And so, I continued to torment Knox and Rowan. But as I was ‘teaching,’ a problem arose.

Both Knox, and Rowan who had taught Knox, were ‘sword-and-board’ fighters. The orthodox style: heavy armor, a sword, and a shield. This was the complete opposite of my style, which was ‘crappy leather armor and a single sword because I’m poor.’ Why don’t I use a shield? Because poor people can’t afford shields, dammit!

So, if they’re going to learn from me, they have to ditch the shields and armor. Half out of jealousy, and half because it was just plain hard to teach them otherwise, I made them get rid of both.

“It makes sense. There is no way I could keep up with Master while wearing that armor,” Knox said, seeming to… actually agree with me as he took it off. …Aren’t you a little too agreeable?

“But Master,” Rowan said, “without a shield… how are we to defend against a monster’s attack?” He looked nervous. I never even had the option of a shield, man. The best defense is a good offense, right? No?

After making them ditch their shields and use only one sword, just like me, I added sparring to the routine. I already knew Knox was weak, but the surprising thing was… for a ‘knight,’ Rowan wasn’t that strong, either. What? So he really is just a failure? No wonder he got stuck as Knox’s babysitter.

“Before Master, even a knight’s skill is rendered meaningless,” Rowan said, clearly just making an excuse. No, dude, I’m pretty sure the fact that you’re losing to me just proves you’re super weak. Knox, who had probably never seen a real knight fight, was just nodding along. Seriously, this is an insult to other knights, them being compared to me.

So, my days became a routine: teach Knox and Rowan, and… go on ‘inspection tours’ of the domain with Knox. Mainly because I said I wanted to go on a mini-trip. We’d visit a nearby village, and they’d even throw a small feast for us.

“This village is close to the capital,” Knox would explain. “They grow cotton here, in addition to food.”

I’d mostly tune him out, looking at the fields and talking to the villagers. It reminded me of home. I wonder how the old geezer is doing… When I’d mention something about my own past, Knox would look at me with this weirdly impressed expression. …Did I say something weird?

My life settled into a new pattern: wake up, beat up my two disciples, eat lunch, take them out to hunt small-fry, eat dinner, and then make them do practice swings until they collapsed. Just like my other disciples, the light in Knox and Rowan’s eyes died, but I decided not to worry about it.

Sometimes, Knox would be gone for ‘inspections’ or ‘social events,’ and Rowan would have to go with him. On those days, I’d go for a walk outside the capital and hunt the horse or wolf monsters that spawned nearby. Unlike at the twins’ place, the wolves here were all solo, not in packs, so I never had any trouble. Yeah, ganging up on someone is a coward’s tactic!

I was really enjoying this life, making way more money than I ever did scrounging for materials. But then, another problem came up. One day, after our usual ‘torture session,’ Knox asked me a question.

“Master, what is the name of your sword style?”

Apparently, in this country, it’s tradition for the founder of a style to name it. He said my style was unlike any he’d ever seen. I mean… if it’s based on anything, it’s what the old geezer taught me, but he never mentioned a name. And it’s not like I ever thought about a name. I just swing the sword in a way that kills small-fry. I can’t just say that…

I’d been dodging him by saying, “You’re not ready to know! You can’t even hunt one monster by yourself!” But then, one day, Knox and Rowan—who had been gone for a while—came back, carrying the corpse of a monster. I screamed internally.

They were both looking at me with these hopeful, expectant eyes.

“Now will you tell us, Master?”

I was trapped. I had nowhere left to run. I never thought Knox would actually be able to kill a monster. Is it possible… he’s not the ‘rival’ character? Is he… is he the ‘arrogant-but-datable’ character from an otome game?! Or maybe he is the rival, but he’s the type who loses once and then has a protagonist-awakening?! Gah, stop thinking about useless crap! I just need to come up with a cool-sounding name!

I fixed my expression, trying to look as profound as possible, and closed my eyes, as if I were ‘considering’ whether they were ‘worthy.’ C’mon, my useless brain! Think of an awesome name!

…How about… the ‘True Strike One-Blade Style’? No? That’s no good? Yeah, probably.

After a brief silence, I muttered the name that had just popped into my head. Neither of them said a word. They didn’t even react. You idiot! I screamed at myself. Why can you only think of such lame names! I was so depressed that I skipped training for the rest of the day and just holed up in my room. I already KNOW I have no naming sense! Needless to say, starting the next day, their training became even more severe, purely out of spite.

Some more time passed. I was idly thinking about how it was getting colder lately, but what really bothered me was how Knox was acting all… antsy. He just couldn’t sit still. I figured he ate something bad and asked him if his stomach hurt.

“N-No, it’s nothing! Right, Rowan?”

“Indeed! Everything is as normal!… Why did you drag me into this?!“

Aha! They’re hiding something. And Rowan, I can hear you, even if you’re whispering. But what would those two possibly need to hide from me?

While their behavior was weird, another, much bigger problem had surfaced.

“Master Swordsman,” Knox’s father had started saying, “would you perhaps consider training my other knights as well? Seeing how Knox has been completely transformed, I am certain my knights would grow stronger, too.”

His recruitment offensive was getting intense.

“To be honest,” his father told me one night, after inviting me for drinks, “I never expected much from Knox. My eldest and second sons are both more than capable, and the house will go to one of them. In fact, if Knox had shown talent, it might have split the family. I had intended to keep him as a lovable fool, to be used for forging alliances through marriage.”

Here I was, getting the inside scoop on noble family drama.

“But… since he began training under you, Knox is like a different person. So much so that it feels a waste to just leave him as a fool. I am even thinking of sending him to train with the Royal Knights in the Capital. What is your assessment?”

I was already pretty drunk, happily chugging the high-class, undiluted wine he’d offered me—stuff I could never, ever afford. Well… Knox was a shitty brat at first, but he’s shaping up pretty good now. If he’s a protagonist-type, he’s bound to do something big. So, rather than having him inherit the house, you should send him on a journey to make a name for himself… because I want to pose as his distant master! …Or at least, I said something like that, through my ‘wise master’ filter. I think.

“I see, I see… so that is your view. Then, forgive me for asking again, but… you still will not consider instructing my other knights?”

If it’s just a brat like Knox or a weakling like Rowan, it’s one thing. But if I try to teach real, strong knights, they’ll see through my act in a second. No way.

“Ah, you see, it’s a secret technique, only to be passed to a true protagonist… I mean, disciple…” I rattled off a bunch of excuses.

“…This is just another case of me being a fool, unable to see my own son’s talent, isn’t it?”

For some reason, my excuses actually convinced him. He just stroked his beard, a distant look in his eyes.

“Swordsman… please, keep me company a while longer. Ever since my wife passed, the nights feel so long. I miss having someone to talk to like this.”

He held up his glass, and I raised mine.

“If you’re pouring the good stuff, I’m in! We can do this every night!”

Then, one day, after my usual dinner with Knox and his father, Knox nervously announced he had something for me.

“I heard of a master blacksmith in the mountains of this domain, and I had him forge a sword for you.”

At his signal, Rowan respectfully presented a cloth-wrapped sword. I took it, and as I drew it from the scabbard, the faint, bluish tint of the blade caught my eye. The decorations were simple, but this was clearly the work of a master. It was completely different from my cheap, mass-produced junk.

According to Knox, the metal was a special alloy that conducted mana well, perfect for imbuing with magic to cut down monsters. Are you mocking me? I can’t use magic, and I don’t have a mage in my party!

I almost said it, but it’s rude to complain about a gift. I just accepted it. Mana-conduction aside, it looked sharp, and best of all, it was made of mithril or some other awesome fantasy metal. That scored high points for me. My only fantasy-element so far had been monster horns. As I accepted the new sword, I ‘recycled’ my old one by shoving it at Rowan.

Rowan, now holding my useless sword, was trembling, his mouth tight with what looked like rage. Hey, if you don’t want it, you can just throw it away, okay? No need to get so mad…

Alright. I’ve been here a while, my wallet’s full, and now I’ve got this sweet new sword. It’s probably time to hit the road again. Knox can even kill monsters on his own now, so there’s nothing left for me to teach him.

“I see…” Knox’s father said, when I told him I was leaving. “It will be lonely. But… I have no right to stop you.” He downed his wine. We’d become pretty good drinking buddies.

“You said you were heading north,” he said. “Then you should aim for the Royal Capital. All things, and all people, gather there.”

He pulled out a map and showed me the route. I wanted to ask for the map itself, but it looked like he didn’t have a spare. And, for some reason, he insisted I had to leave the city at the crack of dawn, when the gates first open. Is he trying to get rid of me?

Oh, well. I have to do what he says. I thanked him for his hospitality, and at sunrise, I left the castle and headed for the gate.

“Excuse me, guard, is this the road north? …It’s not? Oh, sorry…”

Farewell, Knox! Farewell, Rowan! I’m counting on you to become the protagonist of your own heroic epic! You know, the one where you lead a tiny band of knights to repel a demon general’s army when the Demon King is resurrected! And when you do, I’ll sneak back into this town, find a tavern, and smirk to myself while the bards sing your song!