Chapter 12

Say what?! I’m eleven years old, and you want to take me to a war zone and show me how to straight-up kill people?!

I didn’t know how I was expected to respond to that, but I had to give him an answer. Alfred’s sudden change left me hopelessly confused, so I latched onto the one word he said that hit me the hardest, the one thing that resonated deep inside me. Defeat. Even the word itself feels heavy to me.

“My own personal philosophy,” I said carefully, “is that I am willing to use any dirty tricks at my disposal, provided that they allow me to avoid the ultimate defeat of death.”

“Oho!”

If there is one thing that the part of Luke within me is furiously trying to avoid, it’s defeat. Despite that, I’ve experienced defeat many times this year, over and over again. I lost every sparring match I fought, but none of the losses did anything to lessen my self-esteem. Luke’s will was there in the back of my head, saying things like…

Don’t look down on me!

You’ll see. Just you wait.

I’ll be standing where you are now, soon enough.

I’ll tear you down, no matter what it takes.

Perhaps that’s why…

“Ha ha… Mwa ha ha ha!”

…I’m bursting into laughter.

“I see. Very well. I certainly can’t say I disagree with your thoughts on this matter,” Alfred said. “You are not mistaken in the slightest—what’s most important is that you emerge victorious in the end.”

“Incredible,” I muttered. “To think I’m already at this level! I didn’t expect to become so strong so fast!”

The words kept coming, and I couldn’t stop them.

“And, Alfred, don’t you dare think you can look down on me forever. You’re not special. I’m going to defeat you.”

Ah… This is just who Luke is—who I am now. I don’t think that’ll ever change until the day I die. There’s no way to control this overinflated ego, and the only way to satisfy it is to claim victory again, and again, and again.

Man, what an irritating way to live. Seriously, this is going to be a pain in the neck. But heck, it might not be all bad…

Let’s give this a shot.

***

“He did it… He really did it! Didn’t even take him two years.”

I feel like I’ve started talking to myself a lot more of late. I wonder why that is. If someone overheard me, I might lose my job. I have to avoid that at all costs.

It’s funny, I never thought the day would come that I’d want to keep working this crappy job. I suppose you just don’t know where life is going to take you. It’s been almost eighteen months since I started training that brat… No, Master Luke.

Today he delivered me my first loss.

Can I keep from smiling, I wonder? I want to laugh out loud. But no, I have to be professional. I cannot have anyone see me like this. That is why I am biting my tongue, doing everything I can to keep a lid on my emotions.

“He’s far exceeded what I imagined him capable of!”

Ah, it’s no use. These feelings overflow whether I want them to or not. I never held back against him, even for a moment. I fought with the intention of killing him, even. Our matches always made me feel that familiar chill at the back of my neck, as if I were in a true fight to the death. It’s been barely a year since he first held a sword, but he’s been trying to win since day one.

My instincts as a swordsman always told me that if I let up even slightly, he would catch me off guard. That is why I was always serious in our practice matches. I never faced the boy as a pupil, but as an enemy I would have to confront and kill. That’s the level at which I fought. The title I hold, former vice-captain of the Royal Knights, is no light honor. I know that I am still one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom, even at my age, and yet Master Luke beat me legitimately.

“Ah… I can’t take it anymore.”

Alfred felt something warm in his chest tremble with excitement.

Master Luke’s name will go down in history, that much is certain. More than that, he’ll become myth! And I have a front-row seat, right by his side. I get to watch this boy become a man who becomes a legend! Oh, what joy! How blessed I am to be here!

“Sir Alfred.”

One of the maids was calling for me. The interruption didn’t rattle me one bit, and I switched smoothly back into butler mode without delay.

“What can I do for you?”

“You have a guest, Sir Alfred.”

“…Someone’s come to see me?” I can’t even think who that might be. Well, I suppose there are a few good and bad possibilities I can imagine, but none I’d particularly expect.

“I also have a message from the master of the house. He requests that you personally meet with this guest.”

“Is that so? I see.”

“They’re awaiting your arrival, so I will take you there now.”

The maid bowed once, then turned and began to walk down the hallway.

Tch, who the heck’s here? I’m busy, damn it. I’ve got lesson plans to make for Master Luke’s next training session. But the boy’s father did ask me to meet whoever’s here, so I suppose I have no choice in the matter.

My footsteps a little heavier than usual, I followed the maid down the hallway.

***

My name is Elka Ay Sutherland.

At one time, it was renowned across the land, and I was known by all who dwell in this kingdom. I did, after all, serve as captain of the Royal Knights for a time.

As a woman, I am generally at a disadvantage in fights with men. I cannot overpower them with brawn alone, and, alas, I am hopeless at the subject of magic. Nevertheless, I served as one of the few female captains in the long and illustrious history of the Royal Knights. I climbed to that position through my own hard work, and I occupied it with honor. I should be permitted some small pride in that, no?

However, that’s all in the past. More recently, I’ve opened a swordsmanship school in the royal capital. I won’t teach just anyone, though. I will only accept those I have a fondness for, whose hearts I know are good. The school and its pupils are the reason I am here to see Al. I would have liked to come see him sooner, but I was unsure whether the business would go well at first. No matter how talented the student may be, I refuse to teach those that I do not personally like, but I am not unreasonable. I would not bring Al an offer with no prospects of success. And…I suppose there are some personal feelings wrapped up in all this too. That is why it took me so long to come.

“…I wonder if he is well.”

I still vividly remember the day that he quit his post as vice-captain. He was always so stubborn. He would never bend once his mind had been made up. When was the last time we met? It was so long ago I can scarcely remember.

I sank into the feelings of nostalgia washing over me until the door to the reception room opened with a click.

“Did I keep you waiting, former captain of the Royal Knights, Lady Elka Ay Sutherland?”

“Not at all. Allow me to thank you for accepting this sudden visit. You have my gratitude, Lord Gilbert.”

This reception feels oddly warm. I mean, I’ve not heard any bad rumors circulating about the house of Gilbert, but I don’t hear anything good either. For better or worse, this family should be typical aristocrats. Nobles in general don’t think much of the Royal Knights. Unless they can trace knightly lineage themselves, most consider them a useless band of warriors who are incapable of using magic.

Has something shifted in their evaluation of the art of the sword?

“You must have had a long journey. Welcome.”

“Thank you.”

I might be from a third-rate house, but I am a noble too, I suppose. I mean, I didn’t expect them to turn me away at the door, but this welcome is unexpectedly courteous. It makes me suspicious of their true intentions.

“Would you like some tea?”

“I would. Thank you very much.”

One of the maids beside me poured black tea into my cup, and its pleasant aroma filled the room. We proceeded to exchange pleasantries, but I felt no ill will from my host.

“Well then, I suppose you aren’t here to see me, though. I will have Alfred brought to you at once.”

“You have my thanks, Lord Gilbert.”

With that, Lord Gilbert stood and left the room. I was not left alone with my thoughts, though. The maids stayed at my side. Something’s odd about all this. The Kingdom of Milestia was founded by skilled magic users and has a long history of celebrating the use of magic in general. That is the reason that the first-rate nobles of this kingdom tend to have a talent for magic. Magic belongs to the aristocrats, in other words. Very rarely, a commoner will show an innate talent, but such cases are exceptions to the rule. Given the history of Milestia, the deep rift between the magic-using upper class and the brutish commoners is one that will never be bridged. It’s discrimination that is woven into the fabric of the kingdom…

Or so I thought, but I felt none of it from Lord Gilbert just now. If anything, I sensed respect from him. I find this truly inexplicable.

Suddenly, a knock at the door. With all the questions bubbling away inside my head, I barely registered the interruption. One of the attending maids went to open it at once.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

Oh, this takes me back. So many memories spring forth when I look at his face. But it has been so long, and he’s changed quite considerably. Al respectfully lowered his head, and the sight was so ridiculous that I struggled to contain my amusement.

“I will take it from here. You may leave,” he said to the maids.

“Thank you, Sir Alfred.”

The maids left, and Al and I were finally alone. He silently sat down on the sofa opposite me, then lit a cigarette, as he always did.

“Yo.” He exhaled a puff of smoke.

“Pff… Ha ha ha!” The laughter spilled out of me. “You’ve really taken to the butler life, haven’t you, Al? Hard to believe that you were once feared as a demon of the battlefield.”

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I burst out laughing, hands on my sides.

“It wasn’t long ago that you used to struggle so much with the formalities.”

“When? Don’t talk to me about the past like it was yesterday. That was years ago.”

“Ha, right. I guess it has been that long, hasn’t it? Time is a terrifying master.”

“So, what do you want, Elka? You didn’t come all this way just to see a familiar face, did you?”

“You really haven’t changed a bit. Learn how to dress your words up a little.”

“Nope, can’t do it. It doesn’t agree with me.”

“Mm, I thought as much. I’m relieved to see you’re still the same. Let me be blunt too, then . ”

I let my words hang in the air for a moment before continuing.

“I want your help in training my pupils.”

There’s no sense in beating around the bush with Al. I should be plain with him.

“I picked up an orphan, and I’m teaching him the sword. His name’s Abel, and he’s got a good eye. I’m sure you’ll like him too.”

There’s no lie in anything I’m telling him. I truly believe he will.

“Hm… So he’s talented, then?”

“What?”

“I’m asking if he’s got talent.”

I wasn’t used to hearing questions like those from him. Alfred’s a complex man, and I expect the more of his true self one sees, the more they will doubt their ears. Al was born to a household of incredible poverty. There was nobody to teach him the sword; he had to crawl his way up through ceaseless hard work. He had the eyes of a starving wolf, wildly swinging his sword to carve out a path for himself in life. He’s never once spoken to me of talent or innate ability. Not until now, that is. I suppose since he’s asked, I’ll have to answer him.

“Well,” I hesitated, “he has no talent for the sword. He does have a rare aptitude for magic, but since he’s no aristocrat, I don’t expect he’ll ever be able to use any elemental spells.”

It hurts me to say this about the pupil I’m raising, but I can’t lie. It’s true, he has no talent for the sword. But what Abel possesses is so much more than mere talent.

“But,” I punctuated, gathering my strength to put behind every word I was about to say, “Abel has an incredibly strong will. It’s terrifying to behold. The boy truly is a monster.”

That’s the power that I see in Abel: his will, his strength of mind. It makes me tremble just thinking about it.

“So how about it? Are you interested?” I asked Al.

I want to talk about the boy in more detail, truth be told. There are so many stories I have to tell him, but unfortunately, we don’t have the time for that now. That’s why I thought I’d get right to it and ask the question. I just know he’ll be interested.

…Or, well, I thought for sure he would be. The reaction I’m getting from him is not quite what I expected.

There was an awful emptiness in his eyes as he leaned back onto the sofa and took another puff on his cigarette, blowing smoke upwards as he gazed at the ceiling.

“Hey, Elka. Remember what we used to talk about?” he said suddenly. “The classic question: Which comes first, the sword or the heart?”

“…Yeah. I remember.”

Al continued, still not addressing my original question. Was he interested in working with Abel or not?

“Are we strong of heart because we are strong with the sword, or does our skill with the blade come from our strength of heart?” he asked. “You always had the same answer for me: The heart comes first, right?”

“Yes. One needs only a righteous heart, and the sword will follow. That’s what I believe.”

That’s why I won’t train some pupils, no matter how talented they are.

“I think so too,” he said.

Al hasn’t changed after all, I thought with relief.

“No,” he corrected himself. “I used to think so.”

I felt my heart tighten in my chest.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“It’s simple. I’ve changed my mind.”

“You think the sword comes first?”

“That ain’t exactly it either… I think the heart and the sword have nothing to do with each other.”

“You’re wrong!” I yelled, slamming my hand on the table and jumping to my feet. I saw nothing resembling a human emotion in Al’s eyes.

“C’mon, hear me out.”

Al was calm as he talked me down, and I felt embarrassed that I’d lost my composure in a conversation with a friend. Once I settled myself, he stood and walked over to the window of the reception room.

“Come here for a second. Look out there.”

I did as he asked. I saw a young boy standing in the beautiful courtyard outside. He had blond hair and an incredibly handsome face. I knew him to be the heir to the Gilbert house, Luke Witharia Gilbert. But why was I looking at him?

“Master Luke should be about to start training. Watch him and tell me what you think.”

“What? He’s learning how to handle a sword?”

“Yeah. His idea. I’ve been teaching him for a year and a half, give or take.”

I see. That explains why Lord Gilbert was so respectful towards me earlier. I don’t know what Al is getting at, though. The child has had eighteen months of training. What could he possibly want to show me?

And then the boy took his sword from its scabbard and stopped my spinning thoughts.

His swordplay was so beautiful that it sent shivers down my spine. His form was incredibly refined. Beautiful. Absolutely perfect. Not even I was capable of this.

This was not mere swordplay; it was truly fine art… I found myself captivated by his performance. Every last thought in my brain was erased and overwritten in an instant by the awe I felt.

Wait, hang on, how long has this kid been training again?

“…A year and a half, you say?” I murmured.

“Yeah. That right there… That’s talent .”

When I turned to Al, I was shocked to see a terrible smile spreading across his face. He wore the grin of a deranged zealot, like a demon-worshipper who’d managed to gain an audience with the devil himself.

“Al…”

“Ah, sorry. That’s enough. Sit down.”

My heart racing, I fell back down onto the sofa. All the strength left my body.

“Well? What did you think?”

I hesitated. “Tremendous.”

What else could I say after seeing that? There’s no other word for it.

“Right? And yet, is Master Luke a good kid? Absolutely not. He’s not even nice. If a commoner so much as bumped into him on the street, he’d make sure there’s hell to pay for it.”

So that boy’s the one who changed your mind.

“Talent’s just something the gods hand out at random, see?” he continued. “There’s no good or bad to it.”

“But…” I trailed off. I wanted to deny it, but how could I after what I’d just seen?“

“You know, thinking back on it, that’s probably why I was never able to beat you, Elka. You have talent, and I never did. That’s all,” Al muttered to himself, his gaze distant and unfocused.

No, that’s not right, Al… This is so unlike you.

“So you see, I’m going to have to decline your offer. Sorry.”

I knew that’d be your answer. I knew it the moment you didn’t immediately say yes. No, maybe it was when I saw that look in your eyes.

“I want to be close enough to see…” he muttered. “To witness what Master Luke is going to accomplish. I don’t care if it’s for good or evil; I just want a front-row seat! Ha ha! Do you hate me now, Elka?”

I had nothing to say to that. The Al I knew was long gone.

“Might be that Master Luke has to fight that brat of yours at some point… Abel, was it? I sure hope he puts up a good struggle when the time comes.”

With that challenge, there was nothing left for me to do here. Hot flames arose inside my heart as I left the house of Gilbert behind.

I will raise Abel myself, and I will stake everything I have upon him. If I do not, he will never be able to defeat Luke.

***

Elka’s words should have pushed Alfred to become Abel’s second mentor, but none of that came to pass. The two old friends’ paths had diverged wildly, and this was undoubtedly due to the inexplicable “talent” Luke Witharia Gilbert suddenly displayed. Or rather, the more truly terrifying fact that he had decided to put effort into his endeavors.

Indeed, this story had already begun to warp and twist.