Chapter 13 TRG Vol. 1 Chapter 4 Part 2

Chapter 4 (The Inside Story)

“You’re truly going, then?”

“Father, I believe I am leaving far too late as it is.”

I looked my father in the eyes—eyes that, while they still held their sharpness, seemed to belong to a man who had grown smaller recently—and I spoke clearly. He just… nodded, a sort of resigned smile on his face.

“Hah… I am glad that you, who always lacked the ambition of your brothers, have grown so. But I never imagined you would become so bold as to leave the domain entirely.”

“The ‘me’ of the past was just a coddled brat, so much so that even you had given up on me. That changed because I met my Master.”

“No, Knox. I was the fool, a father who couldn’t even see the talent hidden in his own son,” he said, and this time, he smiled, as if he were genuinely happy.

I was born the third son of House Fairholt—a family permitted by the King to rule a vast domain and, in exchange, command a powerful order of knights. My role… was to be the spare, in case my two brilliant older brothers died. But by the time they were seven, I wasn’t even needed as a spare anymore. My mother died giving birth to me, and the only family I ever knew was my distant father, my even more distant brothers, and Rowan.

By the time I was old enough to understand, I had already convinced myself with the plausible-sounding excuse that I must remain a fool for the good of the house, to prevent a succession crisis. I spent my days in indolence. I ignored my tutors. I forced Rowan, twisting his arm, to be my ‘guard and instructor,’ making him play at sword-fighting with me. Looking back, I realize my father probably preferred me to be a simpleton. It made me easier to manage. And so, he let me rot.

I was oblivious to all of it. I just kept being a selfish brat, forcing Rowan—the very man responsible for commanding the Fairholt knights, who had no time to babysit me—to take me deer hunting.

It was on the way back from one of those hunts that we had the misfortune of encountering a vicious monster—a Demon Boar. We were running for our lives.

That was the desperate, hopeless moment I first met my Master.

At first, I didn’t even see him. I was too busy trying to stay alive. But when the sound of the boar’s hooves faded, I had the carriage stop. I looked back, and… there, in the road, stood an Asura.

—

TL Note: “Asura” (修羅, shura) – A term for a demonic warrior or someone who has become demon-like through battle.

—

His back was to me, perfectly calm, as if the Demon Boar wasn’t even there. He drew his sword, and took a stance. His presence was so overwhelming that even the monster seemed to hesitate.

“R-Rowan!”

“I know!” Rowan shouted back. “We must somehow assist that swordsman! At least to drive it back!”

He spurred his horse and took his place beside the swordsman. As if that was the signal, the boar and the man moved at the same time. The monster’s ferocious charge… he dodged it by a hair’s breadth. Rowan—a knight so skilled, it was said no one in the domain could match him—was grimacing, struggling just to parry the boar’s attacks. But this man… he was deflecting them with a calm face, and then… with a single thrust… he drove his sword into the monster.

“—Aaaaaaah!”

His war cry was so piercing I could hear it even from a distance. The fight didn’t last long. We had been hoping to just drive it back, but he had slain it.

To be honest, I was more afraid of the swordsman than I had been of the monster. Even from his back, I could feel the sheer pressure he gave off, and my body was shaking. But… I couldn’t just be saved and give nothing in return. That would be a disgrace to my name. I mustered every last scrap of courage I had and stood before him.

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

I was deliberately arrogant. If I hadn’t been, I don’t think I could have hidden the fact that my knees were knocking.

“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.”

It was a huge risk. A common traveler wouldn’t know how to ride a horse, but inviting him into my carriage… yet, I knew I had to. During the entire ride back, I focused on building a rapport with him. He was a swordsman of unbelievable skill. Even as a child, I knew: I had to either bring him into House Fairholt, or, at the very least, never make him an enemy.

“Swordsman, why do you travel?”

“…To meet all kinds of people.”

The conversation started with simple questions, but it was surprisingly… enjoyable. The swordsman’s expression never changed, but he spoke in a calm, gentle tone.

“I wasn’t satisfied just swinging a stick back home.”

As he said that, he opened his hand. His palm… it was covered in thick, overlapping calluses, and even then, there were fresh, cracked wounds on top of them. What kind of training… what kind of life… leads to a hand like that? It looked like the hand of an old man who had dedicated his entire existence to the sword.

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

“My goal… a goal, huh. To pass this on… to the one who is supposed to have it.”

His words were abstract, but they were filled with a powerful, unshakeable will.

“The one who is ‘supposed to have it’?”

I couldn’t help but ask. At my question, he paused, as if thinking, and then his mouth softened into a slight smile.

“Who knows. I don’t, either.”

“…Haha. You don’t even know, and yet you keep traveling?”

His laugh made me laugh, too. To train his sword to such a level, to continue on an endless journey, all to find someone he wasn’t even sure existed. How could he maintain such discipline?

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

“…I suppose,” he said. “I took on some disciples along the way.”

“Were they the person you were looking for?”

“Who knows. One was just a brat in an alley. Two others… their village was burned by monsters. I just… picked up what I could.”

As he said that, he looked out the window, as if lost in a memory, and his expression was the gentlest I had ever seen. The way he said ‘disciple’… it was clear this was not some simple relationship.

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

“Taught? I wouldn’t call it anything so grand. I made them swing a sword, I sparred with them, and I made them resolve themselves. The rest… just happens as it happens.”

The more we talked, the more I was drawn to this man. How did he get that sword? How did he ‘pass it on’? I think… it was the young, foolish admiration of someone who had no ‘absolute’ core, seeing someone who did. And it was that admiration that made me want to touch that strength, even just a little.

When we arrived, I immediately arranged for him to meet my father. My father, too, knew he couldn’t just ignore a swordsman who had slain a Demon Boar.

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

My father’s eyes, as he stood before the swordsman, were the cold, calculating eyes of a ruler. He said “thank you,” but I knew… he was far more grateful for the saving of Rowan than for the saving of me.

“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.”

After hearing the report from Rowan—the Knight-Captain—my father had clearly reached the same conclusion I had. This swordsman… we will bring him into our house. Whether as a guest-general, or as an official knight. The Fairholt knights are all elites, men who have served in the Royal Knight orders. They are the second and third sons of our vassals, families who have served us for generations. To bring a commoner into those ranks was unheard of. But my father had decided this man was worth it. And… I knew, implicitly… that my own opinion had had no bearing on that decision. My heart cracked, just a little more.

At the banquet that night, the conversation was mostly between my father and the swordsman.

“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,” I interjected, desperate to assert my own existence. “But, of course, they would be no match for you, Swordsman.”

I was trying to help… trying to find my own value by helping to secure this man for our house.

“I can’t use magic,” the swordsman said, seeming to see right through us. “At that point alone, your brothers are far more skilled than I. Besides… I cannot become a knight.”

He had just… flatly refused. He stated, clearly, that he had no intention of wielding his sword for House Fairholt alone.

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

At that, my father changed his tactics. If he couldn’t recruit the man, he would have him teach his skills to the knights. It was true; even if they couldn’t reach the swordsman’s level, if our knights could learn even a fraction of his technique, it would be a massive boon to our house.

“I refuse.”

With that single phrase from the swordsman, the air in the room grew a notch colder. His expression was calm, but my father’s eyes narrowed.

“May I ask why?”

“My ‘sword’ has no form, no elegance. It’s just swinging a stick. It’s not something I can teach to your noble knights.”

“And if I were to say that does not matter? I have heard from Knox that you have taken on disciples during your travels.”

“I refuse. It’s not anything grand, but I will only pass this on to those who are meant to have it.”

It was the same phrase I’d heard in the carriage. Even he didn’t know who they were, but it seemed the only person he would teach was one he himself had acknowledged.

To say such a thing, so fearlessly, in front of the lord of the domain… normally, I would have laughed him off as an ignorant commoner. But I couldn’t. Because his eyes… his eyes held a sharp light that was in no way inferior to my father’s. It was a presence that could cut you with a single glance.

“…I see. That is a shame.”

Even my father… even he was forced to back down.

“Then, if you will not teach the knights, please! Teach me!”

I, however, couldn’t give up. If I could learn the sword of this man, whom even my father couldn’t command, I thought I might finally find my own value in this house. I practically threw myself halfway across the table, and the swordsman’s sharp gaze pierced right through me.

“…I refuse. I have no intention of teaching you as you are now.”

And with that, he left the room. Looking back, I think he saw right through my coddled, selfish nature. All that was left in the room was me, my father, and Rowan, standing silently behind him.

“He is a difficult man, that swordsman, isn’t he, Rowan?”

“If he were not, I doubt he would possess such skill.”

“If we cannot recruit him, can we… eliminate him, before he becomes an enemy?”

“…That would be difficult, my lord. I cannot even imagine myself successfully drawing my sword against him. However, I do not believe he will be recruited by another house, either. He holds an unshakeable conviction.”

“Then, we have no choice but to offer him our hospitality and allow him to continue his journey.”

My father and Rowan had decided. Their policy would be to leave him alone. Which meant… I had lost my chance to change. I was, once again, the son from whom nothing was expected.

From the next day, under the guise of ‘showing him around,’ I followed the swordsman everywhere, looking for any chance, any opening, to beg him to make me his disciple.

“Learning my sword isn’t what you should be doing, is it?” he’d say. “Is swinging a sword a noble’s job? Before you play with sticks, you should at least finish your real work.”

He said that, so I threw myself into my studies, which I had ignored for so long. If I was to be his disciple, I needed a basic foundation. I even began participating in the knight’s training, which I had only ever watched before.

“If just training your body was enough to be a noble, it’d be an easy life,” he said to me one day, as he leafed through a book in the castle library.

It was rare for a commoner to be able to read. Most adventurers had to ask the guild staff to read or write for them. Only nobles and merchants were truly literate.

“This room is filled with everything you should know. A sword isn’t your only weapon.”

The sight of him turning the page… it was so natural, he looked more like a noble than a commoner. It was a strange illusion.

“Then what… what am I supposed to do?”

Maybe that’s why I asked. I was lost, and I was clinging to him.

“Do what you’re supposed to do. It’s simple.”

But all I got was another vague answer.

I didn’t know what I was ‘supposed to do.’ But, as I threw myself into my studies and trained with the knights, I started to notice… the way people reacted to me was changing.

“Lord Knox, this is splendid! At this rate, you will have caught up to your brothers’ studies in the Capital!”

My tutor, who must have sensed I was just tuning him out before, had only ever skimmed the material. Now, we were having advanced debates. The man I had inwardly mocked as a failure, ‘exiled’ from the Capital, possessed an erudition I couldn’t even touch.

“The young lord has guts, I’ll give him that,” the knights would say. “We’ve had no one his age last through our training without crying. Knights are just men, after all. We’re a lot more motivated to protect someone who’s sweated alongside us.”

I started talking with the knights. They could easily complete training that left me on the verge of collapse. I finally understood, in my bones, what my father had meant about how reliable they were.

“Lord Knox,” Rowan said to me one day. “If you wish to become his disciple, you cannot continue as you have. But… the man you are now… perhaps…”

It was Rowan’s words that made me realize. The swordsman had seen my weakness. My childish desire to get one up on my father. My weakness, in not being able to say what I wanted, without hiding behind the excuse of ‘for the family.’

One night at dinner, I made my plea, just as I always did.

“Knox has changed completely these past few days,” my father said, cutting in. “He is applying himself to his studies, which he had always shirked, and he is taking the sword, which was once a game, seriously. Of course, it may still not be enough for you, Swordsman… but, I ask this as a favor.”

I couldn’t help but look up. Rowan, standing behind my father, gave me a small, proud nod. My father, who I thought never even saw me… he had been watching. That was something else I never knew.

“…I only know one way to teach. It’s not gentle. It’s the kind of training that could get you killed.”

The swordsman, perhaps sensing the change in me and my father, didn’t just refuse. He asked me… he asked me to declare my resolve.

“As I said before. I do not mind,” my father said.

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

This was my last chance. I agreed without a second thought. But he just… stayed silent, watching me, and I felt a new anxiety.

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

My father, seeing the impasse, offered a reward. Before he even finished, the swordsman spoke.

“I accept.”

He’d agreed the instant money was mentioned. At first, I thought he’d just been dazzled by the reward, but that cynical thought was shattered by his next words.

“But if I am to accept… then no matter what happens, you are not to interfere.”

He wasn’t even looking at my father. He was staring straight at me. He’d wanted my father to grant him sole authority over my training. He was telling me… that’s how hard it was going to be. I met my father’s gaze. I nodded, my resolve set. Even if I died in this training… it was better than living the rest of my life having accomplished nothing.

The ‘training’ that began the next day was, quite literally, hell.

I’d thought I was used to running until my legs gave out from training with the knights.

“Don’t rest. Swing the sword.”

But I had never been forced to swing a sword immediately after, without even a moment to catch my breath. It was all I could do to keep my trembling legs from buckling. I couldn’t even lift the sword. The armor I wore felt like it was trying to drag me down into the earth.

“M-Master… a break…!”

My face must have been screaming I’m-about-to-die, because Rowan, who was training with me and still had some stamina left, tried to intervene. But the Master didn’t even glance at him.

“That’s interesting. Do monsters give you breaks?”

“…Ngh.” Rowan was speechless.

“If it’s so hard,” the Master said, “then take off that heavy armor. And that shield is just getting in the way of your swing.”

His next words made both Rowan and me freeze. Our plate armor. It was the uniform of a Fairholt knight. The Master, on the other hand, wore only rough leather. It didn’t look like it could stop a monster’s attack at all.

“Let’s say your armor blocks one hit. What about the second? Will it protect you a third time?”

The answer was obvious. The person inside the armor would be pulp. It wasn’t designed to take a monster’s attack. He knew that. He was asking us: Is your enemy a monster, or something else?

We were utterly spent. Rowan and I finally collapsed. The skin on my hands was torn and bleeding.

“I expected more from a knight. My other disciples had more guts than this.”

His other disciples. He brought them up just to taunt us. It was a goad, to try and get us to fight back… but I didn’t even have the strength to react. I just… kept thinking I was going to die, but I never did. Just as I’d be about to collapse, he’d poke me. Just as I’d be about to pass out, he’d let up. His observational skills were demonic.

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

Only Rowan, gritting his teeth, tried to get up. He just… collapsed under the weight of his armor.

Our training became a relentless cycle of basic conditioning and practice swings. He never taught us a single ‘form,’ never a single word about how to wreathe a blade in mana. The only other thing we did was follow him when he went out to hunt monsters.

And it was during those hunts that I saw it. A glimpse of the secret to how he could cut them. His sword… he’d wrap it in an impossibly thin layer of mana. That was the secret. That’s how his mass-produced blade could cut a monster without shattering. I’d be swinging my sword next to him and Rowan, and only his blade would leave that faint, white trail. The only reason I could see that tiny residue of mana… was because of the faint magic talent I’d inherited from my late mother.

But the Master never told us the words for that exquisite art—the one that wreathed his sword in mana. He just… did the same training we did. Even after we had collapsed, if his daily routine wasn’t finished, he would keep swinging, far longer than us. He was doing it for us. He was showing us, trying to convey the secret art that could not be taught with words.

“My sword requires neither armor nor shield.”

“He’s right. There is no way we could keep up with him while wearing armor.”

And that is exactly why Rowan and I abandoned our shields and armor. The destination we were aiming for was right in front of us. We felt no need to cling to our old methods.

“But Master,” Rowan asked, “without a shield, how are we supposed to defend ourselves against a monster’s attack?”

It wasn’t as if we felt no resistance to casting aside everything that protected us. Even holding a sword with two hands felt… uncertain. That anxiety was what had slipped from Rowan’s mouth.

“It’s simple,” the Master replied. “Don’t get hit. Not even once. Convert everything you would use for defense into offense.”

And he… he calmly executed a fighting style that no normal person’s nerves could endure. Rowan and I, now without shields or armor, would attack him together. But the Master would just slip past our blades and strike us with perfect accuracy. His dodge was his step-in. The motion of twisting his body was the wind-up for his next swing. Every single movement flowed into an attack. Even when our blades did meet, his sword would just slide along mine, deflecting it, and that very motion would turn into his next strike.

“In front of the Master,” Rowan said, “even a knight is rendered meaningless.”

We couldn’t even graze him, the two of us combined. Rowan just… smiled, as if that was the only thing left to do. A feeling of resignation, of a height he could never reach, was plain on his face. Compared to the Master, everything he had built up until now… how empty it all seemed.

“A knight is more than this, isn’t it?”

But the Master, as if seeing right through Rowan’s despair, just said that one line.

“If you lose in your heart, your blade dulls,” he said. “Don’t just laugh and give in to despair. That’s a betrayal. You carry that burden until the very last moment. You grit your teeth.”

Those words pierced Rowan’s heart. He was speechless, as if he’d been struck. He was forced to realize that he’d been about to throw away everything he’d built—even his pride as Knight-Captain.

And those words pierced me, too. I… I also had things I was meant to carry. The burdens I should have been carrying, as a noble who had only ever enjoyed a life of selfishness.

After I began studying under him, I increasingly realized that my Master possessed not just an incredible sword, but profound insight as well.

“All this training will suffocate you,” he’d said. “We’re going to a nearby village.”

And just like that, he’d take me out, and we’d visit a village close to the capital on an ‘inspection.’

“This village is close to the capital,” I explained, guiding him. “They grow cotton here, in addition to food.”

I guided him before a field of cotton, which spread out like a sea of white clouds. I knew it was a rare sight, something grown only in our domain, close to the capital.

“I see,” he said. “A different sight from my homeland.”

He observed the bolls, which had burst open to reveal the pure white fibers, his expression unchanging.

“This is a luxury you can only afford because the capital is close,” he said. “In the remote lands, you have to raise sheep and grow wheat, or you don’t survive.”

“You can’t eat cotton,” he said, turning his gaze from the fields to look back at me.

“This village grows this crop for the nobility. In that case, it is the noble’s job to protect this village.”

Another time, after saying that, he went into the nearby mountains alone and returned, having effortlessly slain a Rat-Beast.

“People die in the places your hands and eyes can’t reach.”

How did he even know a monster was there? Neither I nor Rowan had a clue. But we’d reached a point where we’d stopped questioning it. We just accepted it… because it was him. We were beginning to understand just how pointless it was to doubt our Master.

And so, in the short time the Master stayed in our capital, his influence had grown, before I even realized it, to a scale far beyond anything I could have imagined.

“That Master Swordsman, he took care of the monster near our village! Said he didn’t want any payment or thanks… what a man!”

“I was being chased by a Demon Wolf on the highway, and he saved me!”

“It’s shameful… by the time our party’s mage and I arrived, the Swordsman had already taken care of it.”

Every time I went out to inspect the villages with Rowan, every time I returned from attending some social function, there were new rumors about my Master.

We had heard from the castle staff that he’d gone out while we were away, but I never imagined he was single-handedly clearing out all the monsters.

And every time I heard these rumors, his words would flash in my mind.

“‘A noble’s job is to protect,’ huh… How ironic that the one person who best embodies that is my Master, a simple traveler.”

“Knight Orders are organizations,” Rowan would say. “It is unavoidably slow to move. It’s not that House Fairholt lacks strength, my lord. It is simply that he is… beyond any normal standard.”

“That’s true,” I’d reply. “Directly removing threats isn’t a noble’s only duty.”

And yet… there was my Master, visibly contributing to the people’s safety, and then there was me, still just following in his shadow. If you asked which of us was acting more like a noble… the answer was obvious.

I had faced monsters with him several times now, and I’d finally gained the strength to at least wound them. I was acquiring his principles, little by little, but his back was still just as far away as ever. He had given me so much… was I giving anything back at all?

“There is a master blacksmith in the eastern mountains,” my father said, having summoned me one day.

“He presented a sword to the previous king—just once. That alone guaranteed his livelihood for life. It is our family’s duty to keep this blacksmith hidden, to not needlessly expose him to the world.”

The story my father told was hard to believe. A single sword… moving the royal family…

“It is a true masterpiece. And I wish to give it to the Swordsman. Knox, will you go in my name?”

This, my father said, was something even my brothers did not know.

“Recently, monster reports near the capital have been increasing. It is only because the Swordsman is culling them without a word that our knights are able to hold the line.”

I had been about to ask if the Master could come with us, since the sword was for him, but my father’s words stopped me. I had felt it, too, when accompanying him on his ‘training’ outings—the monsters were increasing.

“I permit you to speak of this to Rowan. Take him with you. The blacksmith is… eccentric. Even with my letter of introduction, it will not be a simple matter.”

With that, I left my father’s chambers.

“A master blacksmith, you say?” Rowan said, after I told him. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“But I don’t think Father would lie. It must be true. And it means that, even in Father’s eyes, the Master is ‘real’ enough to be worthy of such a gift.”

For even Rowan, my father’s closest confidant, to have never heard of him… they must have guarded this secret very closely.

“Well, I suppose a masterpiece of that caliber… everyone would want it. I can understand why the Lord would keep him a secret. And I also understand… the weight of this decision, to break that secrecy, just for Master.”

The next day, Rowan and I departed the capital. I thought about telling Master, but Rowan advised that these sorts of gifts are better as a surprise. So, in the end, we left without a word, heading for the blacksmith my father had spoken of.

“To live in a place this remote… he must really hate people.”

The location my father had described was a several-day journey deeper into the mountains from the last village. It was so deep, I’d expect monsters to be here. To suddenly see a small hut with smoke puffing from its chimney… it almost felt like an illusion.

“Is anyone home!”

The smoke meant someone had to be inside, so I called out. After a long silence with no answer, Rowan lost his patience and reached for the door. Just as he did, it was flung open from within.

“What? An errand boy from the local lord, are you?”

The man who appeared was a mountain of muscle, with a white beard and scars covering his entire body. He was probably no taller than me, maybe even a bit shorter, but his sheer presence made him seem gigantic.

“I am Knox Fia Fairholt, son of the Margrave who governs this region. Are you the blacksmith my father mentioned?”

“…Sorry. I’m not taking commissions.”

The blacksmith just scowled and tried to slam the door in our faces, but Rowan quickly blocked it.

“W-Wait, please! Just hear us out!”

“I gave the King his damn sword. My work is done.”

“At least look at this!”

While Rowan held the door, I shoved my father’s letter of introduction through the opening. The blacksmith’s expression twisted when he saw it.

“This… dammit. Fine. Get in.”

Whatever that letter signified, it got us inside. It was less a house and more a workshop with a pathetic excuse for a living space attached. The heat from the forge was so intense, I was sweating just standing still.

“So, you brought the ‘Letter of Promise.’ That must mean you’re the one.”

“‘Letter of Promise’?”

I tilted my head, and he sighed as if I were an idiot for not knowing.

Apparently, House Fairholt had been granted the right to choose a single individual—just one—whom the blacksmith would deem ‘worthy’ of receiving one of his blades.

“I owed the King, so I made one sword for him. And since I’m a guest on this land, I’ll make one more. A blade forged with the techniques of the Dwarves—the master smiths who are all gone now.”

The Dwarves.

They were a race said to have built subterranean cities in the mountains far to the north, masters of earth and iron. Every weapon they forged was a masterpiece, and it was said they worked with metals that no mortal man could handle.

“Mithril. A secret metal of the Dwarves. It’s an excellent mana-conduit, yet it’s both hard and flexible. This ingot I’ve got… it’s the last piece in the world.”

He showed us a pale blue ingot. But, he said, it couldn’t be worked in a normal forge.

“I need a monster’s horn. For fuel.”

A pair of Demon Wolves reigned over the mountain summit. They hadn’t come down, thankfully, but they had devoured all the local wildlife. The blacksmith admitted they were so strong, he’d been planning to flee the mountain himself.

“‘So, it’s perfect timing, go and kill them for me,’ is that it?” Rowan muttered. “He asks the impossible…”

“If our Master were here, maybe… but just the two of us?”

As we climbed toward the summit, their territory, the trees were all snapped at their trunks, as if a hurricane had passed through. It made the area unnervingly open. We couldn’t see them, but a terrifying aura washed over us from up ahead, sending a cold sweat down my back.

“‘If you lose in your heart, your blade dulls.’ …Is this what he meant?”

I remembered my Master’s words. We had already been taught the core principle of his sword, the principle for felling monsters.

“Rowan.”

“Yes, Lord Knox?”

“Come to think of it, our Master told me… if I wanted to know the name of his style, I had to kill a monster by myself first.”

Rowan stared at me, dumbfounded for a second, before a fierce, battle-hungry grin spread across his face.

“Two of us. Two Demon Wolves. It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

“You’ve certainly learned how to talk, ‘Young Master’.“

“Stop calling me that.”

We laughed and drew our swords. That was it. No matter what monster he faced, our Master never showed a single trace of fear. That’s why his blade never dulled.

Just then, a terrifying roar echoed from up ahead. At the same time, two massive shadows appeared, looking down on us. Whether by scent, presence, or pure hatred for humans, they knew we were here. My hands threatened to shake, but I crushed the feeling by tightening my grip on my sword.

“Rowan, watch my back.”

“Understood. Let’s hunt some wolves.”

“What’s wrong with you two? You’re acting strangely.”

“N-No, it’s nothing! Right, Rowan?”

“Yes, just as usual!… Why did you drag me into this?!“

Rowan and I had managed to get what we came for, but now we were stuck, hesitating on when to give it to our Master. We were acting so suspicious that he was starting to notice.

“How long are you going to drag this out?!”

“W-Well… it’s just, giving it to him all formally… it’s a little embarrassing.”

“You’ve made your formal social debut and this is what makes you nervous?!”

I kept hesitating, wondering if we should hold a banquet or something, and we just kept missing our chance. It was getting to the point where even my father was starting to look exasperated with us.

That night, I went to his chambers again, but he was out. I gave up and was heading back to my room.

“To be honest, I never expected much from Knox. My eldest and second sons are 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.”

My father’s chamber door was slightly open, and the voice I heard from inside made me freeze.

“But… since he began training under you, Master Swordsman, 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?”

Master was apparently having drinks with my father. I knew eavesdropping was wrong, but I leaned against the wall and strained to hear.

“He might have been a coddled brat at first, but he’s different now.”

My Master’s calm, steady voice reached my ears.

“He will accomplish great things. Let him travel, as I do.”

“I see, I see… so that is your view. I know it’s a long shot, but let me ask one more time. You still will not consider instructing my other knights?”

“I cannot. I taught Knox… because he was one of those who was meant to have it.”

I felt as if I’d been struck by lightning. The day I first met him, he said his purpose was to pass his sword to someone who was ‘meant to have it.’ He… he had acknowledged me. As someone who was meant to inherit his blade.

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

My father didn’t deny it. He just… laughed quietly.

“Master 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.”

With those words at my back, I slipped silently away to my room. My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears, it was the only proof I needed that this wasn’t a dream. I… I had been acknowledged by my Master.

My mind, which had been lost in savoring my memories of Master, snapped back to the present. I went to bid my father farewell.

“Father, I am going to follow my Master and travel the lands. My mission is to cut down monsters with his sword and save the people.”

“…Well, well. Appointing him as your master was simultaneously the greatest achievement and the greatest mistake of my life. If I’d known you would grow this splendidly, I would never have let you go.”

“I will write. And I promise, if anything should happen, I will return at once.”

“Hmph. I still have two other brilliant sons. This house will not be shaken by one prodigal son running off.”

That was my father’s kindness, his way of telling me not to worry about the house, and to go.

I walked to my father’s chair and gently embraced him. My father, who I had always thought was so large, now seemed smaller than me. No… I had grown. But I still hadn’t matched my father’s greatness. And I was nowhere near my Master’s.

“To think I would lose the two greatest talents this domain has seen since its founding… No, perhaps this, too, was destiny. Perhaps it was all decided the moment that man set foot in our lands.”

My father gave me a map of the region and some money for the road, and I left the castle.

“Isn’t it rather heartless, trying to leave me behind?”

“I had no intention of leaving you, Rowan. My other master… and my fellow disciple.”

Waiting for me at the castle gate was Rowan, my fellow disciple, who had trained under our Master alongside me. He had resigned his post as Knight-Captain to join me on this journey.

“I am the junior disciple,” Rowan said. “He was always watching you. I was just… an add-on.”

“That’s a fine thing to say, considering he gifted you his own sword.”

I glanced at the old, but well-maintained, sword at Rowan’s hip. The day he received his new sword, our Master had given the blade he’d been using… to Rowan.

“‘It’s just a mass-produced blade, but it’s the partner that’s cut down countless monsters by my side.’“

The blade Rowan had received was, indeed, just a common sword. But to us, it held a value far greater than any mere object.

“You inherited his techniques, completely. You were acknowledged. I… I was the one who was lacking, so I just received a ‘thing’. That’s all it is.”

Rowan noticed me looking, shrugged, and fell into step beside me, leading his horse. I couldn’t help but grimace at his words.

“I just happened to overhear it, that’s all.”

“As if you don’t know your father is not a man so careless as to ‘happen’ to leave his door open.”

Looking back, I realize that, too, was probably my father’s clumsy way of showing his affection. Rowan laughed, telling me that our inability to just say things plainly proved we were father and son, after all.

“Well then, what’s the plan? Do we head straight for the Royal Capital to find him?”

“No. We’ll visit as many of the nearby towns as we can along the way.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

Rowan looked surprised. He probably thought I’d want to make a beeline straight for our Master. But I learned from my training that that’s not the way.

“Our Master said he had other disciples. Those who inherited his principles… they are likely all renowned adventurers by now. We will find them and join with them.”

“And why is that?”

He didn’t seem to understand my reasoning, so he asked again. His question made me remember my father’s words from the day our Master left.

“‘The Master Swordsman is heading north. You… should understand what that means.’“

North. Beyond the Capital, beyond the sea itself. That is where his destination lies.

“Our Master is heading for the Farthest-North Mountains.”

The Farthest-North Mountains. A land no human, save for the Hero of legend, has ever crossed. A place where, according to lore, the very source of the miasma that spawns all monsters is hidden.

“It is a land of certain death, where a normal person wouldn’t last an hour. We can’t go there as we are now, still half-fledged. Even if he can. We will find his other disciples, gather them, and form a clan strong enough to follow him. First, we build our foundation.”

When I finished, Rowan finally understood my objective. A slow grin spread across his face.

“I see. As expected, Young Master Knox, you are truly a noble, a leader of men.”

“Stop calling me ‘Young Master,’ Rowan.”

“Ah, my apologies… my lord.”

Rowan gave an exaggerated, courtly bow. I just sighed, exasperated. I know I can’t be wound so tight for the journey ahead, and I know he’s just trying to lighten the mood… but does he still just see me as the ‘Young Master’ he has to protect?

“By the way, if we’re forming a clan, have you decided on a name?”

“Yes. Of course. The name of our clan… will be—”

Master. The seeds you have sown may be but young, unsteady saplings on their own. But to aid you, we will now bind those saplings together. We will become the staff that supports you, the hilt for the blade that will see your wish fulfilled, and the torch that burns itself to light your way.