Epilogue: The Name of the Legend

“Good morning, Sire.”

I was busy sitting by the window, staring at nothing in particular, and I turned around to look at the person who’d interrupted. “Oh, it’s just you. Good morning.” I sighed.

“There is a crowd outside the gates as usual. They are all here for an opportunity to greet the hero,” Catalina said. She was dressed casually today in unrestrictive clothing.

“Yes, no doubt,” I mumbled.

People had been swarming outside my residence ever since I’d returned from that fateful expedition, and today offered no reprieve. The line of supplicants stretched out into the distance. I had asked Master Camilo for help with the overwhelming number of people who’d come to see me, and he’d promised to dispatch reinforcements from Count Eimoor’s estate. It had been a generous offer and I’d gratefully accepted. The guards were now helping with crowd control.

“He refused the mission because he wanted to avoid this exact scenario, didn’t he?” I asked bitterly.

“I cannot be certain, but I believe the likelihood is high,” Catalina replied. “There is no doubt that he feels a reluctance toward holding audiences, although I myself have had the pleasure of meeting with him several times. His reticence has only deepened since that incident.”

This time around, it would’ve been more expedient for him to have both forged the weapon and taken it into battle—his skills were indeed up to the task—but I’d been appointed because he’d staunchly refused to fight. Apparently, he’d said, “I’ll forge the sword, but I won’t wield it. Find someone else to undertake the mission itself, otherwise I won’t make the sword at all.”

When I had been presented with the mission, I’d of course accepted it. My orders had come from royalty after all, and it would’ve been difficult to decline. In addition, I had my pride as one of the best—if not the best—knights in my order. However, I certainly would’ve thought twice about agreeing if I’d known that endless, unruly crowds were part of the deal.

Had he not been staunchly against it, there was no doubt that he would’ve taken care of the situation more quickly on his own. To be blunt, his skills outstripped mine. The battle would’ve been a cinch for a man who was rumored to have fought Lightning Blade to a standstill.

I leaned back in my seat, shut my eyes, and thought back to that day’s events.

After a grueling and hazardous trek through the mountains, my company and I arrived at last to the ridge where the monster we hunted was said to reside. Only a short but steep climb left to go.

The beast had been terrorizing the nearby village. It had, as of late, taken to gorging itself on the villagers’ cows and sheep, making it impossible for people to live out their lives in peace.

The crown had decided that military force was required to subdue the beast, and I’d been chosen to lead the expedition. That was how I found myself on that ridge, in the middle of the mountains, greatsword in hand.

It had been no easy feat to procure this particular sword. Let me ask you—what kind of smith would choose to live in the Black Forest? I’d protested the condition to Master Camilo, but he’d insisted; apparently, anyone who wanted to commission a weapon from this blacksmith had to visit the workshop alone and in person. I’d had no choice but to make my way through the forest, which was a place not known for its safety.

Needless to say, I’d gone in with a healthy dose of skepticism, but the blacksmith had been there in the middle of the forest, just where Master Camilo had promised he’d be. Even then, I hadn’t been entirely convinced that I wasn’t being made a fool of, but despite his surly appearance and the stereotype of blacksmiths already in my mind, he’d upturned my expectations. He was actually quite a genial fellow.

What’d surprised me more than anything was that he had multiple wives. Had blacksmithing always been such a glamorous profession?

I’d also asked him why he’d chosen to live in such an inconvenient location. Wouldn’t he get more business if he located his workshop somewhere more central? However, he’d merely smiled at my question and had said that it was a long story. He had mentioned that he’d come from the north, and his name had sounded Nordic as well. At that point, I’d thought it rude to question his circumstances any further, so in the end, I’d left without hearing any of the details.

In any case, that was the enigmatic quest I’d undertaken to get ahold of the sword I was now holding. I’d already tested out the blade, and there was no reason to doubt the skills of the blacksmith. So, in other words, I couldn’t use the sword as an excuse if I were to fail. The success of this mission lay on my shoulders alone, and that burden was heavier than the massive greatsword.

After a steep climb, we finally reached our destination. Making sure to remain undercover, we peeked into the valley beneath the ridge and saw our target breathing deeply in slumber.

I turned to my subordinates. “There it is,” I murmured.

“It sure is sleeping peacefully. Shall we engage?” one of them asked.

“Yes, begin the preparations,” I ordered the men while keeping my voice low. The best course of action by far was to attack while it was asleep.

We started to offload our luggage, keeping our movements slow and quiet. We had brought along four ballistae, each loaded with giant bolas, which were non-lethal projectiles made of two heavy weights connected together by a huge rope. Once they hit their mark, the bolas were guaranteed to snare their target. The bulk of the preparation before our attack involved moving the ballistae into position and adjusting their direction.

“Remember. Launch them if you see even the slightest hint of movement,” I whispered to the commanding officer of the archery unit. This force of archers was often deployed during castle sieges.

The officer had been on similar expeditions to subdue magical creatures, and so he knew to keep his voice low. “Yes, Sire.”

The archers would launch the bolas, and then quickly follow up with a wave of long arrows. Speed was of the essence in today’s battle; we had to slay the beast quickly because if we gave it any opening to retaliate, it would demolish us in a heartbeat.

And so, we circled closer and closer to our target trepidatiously, making sure that each ballista had a clear line of sight.

With any luck, I’d be able to sneak up and chop off its head while it was still slumbering.

But of course, that hope was in vain.

When I was a mere twenty meters away, it blinked open its massive eyes. Without wasting a second, I broke into a run, sword held aloft and ready before me.

As I sprinted forward, I yelled, “Fire!!!”

Four bolas were immediately launched from the ballistae, and they hurtled through the air toward their target. The monster looked up at the projectiles, startled, but it couldn’t avoid them in time. The battle-hardened archery unit had impeccable aim, and the bolas hit their target dead on, tangling up the monster’s legs and wings.

Our mark was a magical beast whose gigantic body was covered with scales as hard as diamonds. It had wings with which it ruled the skies, and it was long and slim like a snake. When it was on the ground, it crawled about on all fours.

You guessed it.

We were dealing with a dragon.

It struggled fiercely against its bonds. However, even though dragons were infamous for their strength and they could easily dominate the majority of the animal kingdom, the ropes of the bolas held fast. These were also custom items forged by that blacksmith, from none other material than mithril.

I vividly recalled the moment he’d given them to me: “If you’re going up against a dragon, you can’t settle for anything less,” he’d said with a sunny grin. “Since you paid me so generously for the greatsword, I’ll throw these in as a bonus.” I’d been grateful, but after our conversation, his wives had twisted his ears for his recklessness. His grimace of pain and embarrassment was a detail I’m sure he’d prefer I forgot.

“Your prediction was spot on,” I muttered to myself.

With a smile identical to the grin he’d worn, I dashed straight at the dragon’s throat.

The beast shifted its enormous head to face me, jaws gaping wide open. Deep within its mouth, I could see the smoldering of a burning fire.

I braced myself, sword held before me, with the flat of the blade facing the dragon. I’d acted just in time—with a thunderous rumble, the air around me was set aflame. I alone stood in the middle of the firestorm.

It was scorching hot. The dragon’s breath could’ve melted iron.

If I’d been hit with the fire blast directly, I would’ve been completely incinerated without a single mote of ash remaining. However, the greatsword shielded me from the flames, and the metal glowed a glacial blue as if it were frozen.

I waited for the fire to begin petering out before I resumed my headlong charge. The dragon’s head was now directly before me. I couldn’t tell if it still had eyes on me or not, but it had paused in confusion. I guessed that it had probably never met a person or creature that could survive its fiery breath.

I knew myself to be softhearted—just as much as the blacksmith, if not more so. It was a weakness that the other knights in the order liked to tease me for, but this was one chance I couldn’t let slip by. While the dragon was still perplexed, I steeled my heart, leveled my greatsword at its neck, and chopped off its head in one fell swoop.

For my bravery, His Majesty the King himself had bestowed upon me the name “Dragonslayer,” along with the title of baron. I was no longer just Bernhardt Ulrich; I, and my successors, would forever carry the name of Drachentöter.

My father, Viscount Ulrich, was not happy with the circumstances. As the second son, I wasn’t eligible to succeed his estate anyway—but my rise in rank, along with the name change, must’ve felt like a slap in the face.

Needless to say, killing a dragon wasn’t an everyday occurrence. We wouldn’t have confronted the dragon at all had it not started terrorizing the villages. Rumors about the birth of a hero had spread like wildfire through the kingdom, and that “hero” label was now the source of all my troubles.

Half the people crowding before my gates were here to offer up their daughter’s hand in marriage; they craved the honor of becoming extended family to new nobility.

So far, I’d turned them all down. Every. Single. One.

The other half of the crowd was here to request a meeting with the blacksmith who’d forged my sword. I turned most of these away as well because both Master Camilo and Master Eizo had asked that I keep my sword’s origins a secret. I didn’t tell anyone about Master Camilo either. Most people gave up after I’d rebuffed them once.

There was only one exception: a youth who returned over and over again to beg for information. He’d said that he wouldn’t stop until I agreed to tell him.

Today, I finally broke under his siege. After making him promise not to tell a single other soul, I informed him of Master Camilo.

Later on, I often wondered whether I’d made the right decision, but eventually, the question resolved itself in my favor.

Armed with a sword forged by the elusive blacksmith, the youth went on to challenge the Demon Queen, no longer as a mere boy, but as a hero.