Chapter 038: The Turning Path
In the Empire, the ultimate state reached through the sword is called thus:
Body and Sword as One.
It was right after I exchanged glances with Eugene.
That state suddenly came to mind.
To dare speak of Body and Sword as One with a swordsman of the Kingdom?
It’s not blasphemy.
He’s on an entirely different level from when we first met in Canchester.
I finally acknowledged it.
‘He’s definitely one step, no, perhaps two steps ahead of me.’
His very existence is like a finely honed blade.
He stood there without even drawing his sword.
As he surveyed his surroundings, it felt as if he were performing a knight’s salute with his gaze alone.
“Hey, Blood Lion!”
“It’s been quite a while since I was called by that name. Have you been well, Yeats?”
Formal greetings were exchanged, but Yeats already looked as if he’d been stabbed in the back of the head.
His jaw was trembling.
Eugene merely turned his head to glance above mine, checking once more on the safety of his lord and squire.
Then it was my turn.
‘You’ve been through a lot.’
That’s what he seemed to say.
After a brief look, he turned again.
His light movements added weight to the silence of the scene.
“You’ve changed a lot since we last met, Yeats. You’re no longer just a snot-nosed kid.”
“I-I never had a runny nose, even back then!”
“No need to deny my memory. That’s why your head’s still attached.”
I could almost hear Yeats swallowing hard.
That irritating smirk of his had completely vanished.
“It’s only right that I take the tongue that mocked a supreme lineage, but for now, I’ll settle for those fingers.”
He spoke while slowly pacing in front of Yeats and Fred’s encircled subordinates.
Beneath their helmets, their anxious, trembling pupils busily tracked the seasoned master.
Some faces were already pale.
Not a few had trembling arms and legs.
“Y-you’re sparing me?”
I doubted my ears.
It was Yeats.
Pride and everything else were gone.
Eugene nodded.
“Before that, I believe I made myself clear.”
Before he even finished speaking, Yeats dropped to his knees.
It wasn’t even an order.
The sound of knees hitting the ground rippled out like a wave.
Yeats confirmed that his subordinates’ eye levels matched his own before opening his mouth.
“It seems a rat got into my head for a moment. Even now, I’ll make amends for my rudeness to the Lady…!”
“No need. She’s not the type to ruin a grand cause over a mere snot-nose’s provocation.”
“Y-yes, exactly! Absolutely correct. If you were to take my head here, the Eldest Brother would surely use my death as a pretext to denounce the Lady’s atrocities… Ah, oops.”
He slapped his own blabbering mouth before continuing.
“He’d proclaim vengeance using my death as an excuse! That would bring tremendous chaos to Conwell. Such a catastrophe must be prevented.”
“You’ve learned to use your head a bit now. You know how to act without me spelling it out.”
“Of course…! Today, nothing happened! Moreover, if the Eldest Brother even casually asks about the Blood Lion’s whereabouts, I’ll take the lead and say that old man’s been in seclusion for so long that it’s time to question whether he’s even alive!”
“Old man, huh? That’s not quite right.”
“Agh, this blasted mouth of mine.”
He finally regained some composure, chuckling slyly.
He peeked sideways, avoiding Eugene, but with his eyes obscured, I couldn’t tell exactly who he was looking at.
“Sorry about today? I’ll make sure these guys keep their mouths shut, so don’t worry. See you next time.”
He cupped his hand to his mouth.
His lips flapped like a fish, unmistakable.
‘Bihen Benkou.’
* * *
After Yeats and his men left.
The commotion that had erupted in broad daylight felt as if it had never happened, with the night pitch black.
The serfs tasked with cleaning up the scene were no different.
They struck their hoes into the ground Yeats and I had torn up, their faces uniformly lifeless. Were they relieved that the bloodshed hadn’t escalated? No, it seemed more like inertia.
It was an unexpected moment of kinship from an odd angle.
In the Empire, too, it’s common to live in silence, pretending not to see the truth right in front of you, all because of a single word from those above.
In that sense, this was still a place where people lived.
The Empire, the Kingdom—same difference.
Leaving behind the scene where truth was buried whole, Eugene and I came alone to Fred’s mansion. Inside the banquet hall that Yeats had turned into a demonic garden.
“The Lady isn’t yet ready to face the Eldest Brother, Callence. Now is not the time.”
Demonic trees, perhaps?
Eugene spoke while walking among the demonic trees that had pierced through the ceiling.
His demeanor was like some detective inspecting a crime scene, and I couldn’t help but retort in a surly tone.
“You mean it’s tough even with you around?”
With each of Eugene’s steps, the sound of debris and roots being crushed mingled, but at some point, they stopped abruptly.
“Haha.”
Why does his laugh not sound like laughter?
Eugene ran his hand over the surface of a demonic tree and said.
“What’s it like in the Empire? When something like this happens.”
“Curious about the internal strife of Imperial nobles? If you’re not the clear heir, fights naturally break out. Beyond the legitimacy of rank, you need skill, reputation, and above all, heaven’s luck to seize power.”
“Chuckle, right. Whether here or there, people live, so it’s all the same.”
I crossed my arms and deliberately glared at him askance.
What’s with all this nonchalance?
“Isn’t the situation here a bit different?”
“Different?”
“You’re supposed to be the strongest in Conwell.”
“I’ve heard that rumor too.”
“Wouldn’t it be right to pull out even a single weed while you still have the strength?”
The demonic garden Yeats created served as a perfect example.
The grotesque roots of the demonic trees exposed above the stone floor, the reckless sprawl of thorny branches, the trunk sprouting as if monopolizing without regard for symbiosis.
It was no different from Conwell, plagued by all sorts of ills because it wasn’t pruned in time.
“Thanks for the advice. But isn’t that a bit excessive?”
“It’s not excessive. I know a thing or two about this place now. You all…”
Creak.
The sound of the door opening cut me off mid-sentence.
It was Adeline, Joel, Janson, and Mateo.
“You two are here…”
Adeline nearly tripped over a demonic tree root as she approached.
It was so absurd I almost burst out laughing.
“W-what in the world is this?”
“How is there a place like this inside the mansion…?”
Joel and Janson looked around, muttering.
Not knowing the full story, it must’ve seemed purely fascinating.
“Sir, are you alright…?”
“I’m fine. What about the others?”
“Thanks to you, everyone’s safe.”
Mateo bowed repeatedly.
His hunched posture and wary glances seemed ingrained.
‘…’
I looked at Adeline.
There was still more to discuss.
But I swallowed the words rising in my throat and shifted my gaze to Eugene.
I felt tying up the unfinished conversation with him was more urgent.
“Eugene, you’re a noble too, aren’t you? Then keep this in mind. When you fight, there’s no need to act refined.”
“What do you mean?”
I didn’t answer immediately and instead glanced at Adeline.
She was looking at me too.
“Eugene, you said earlier she’s not ready to face him. Weighing military strength, securing legitimacy, considering public sentiment… More important than all that is the resolve to draw your sword first.”
“…”
“Since you two probably think I’m some ignorant fool spouting nonsense, let me finish. Take today, for instance. I wouldn’t have let Yeats walk away. I’d have cut at least one down to chip away at their forces. Why kick away the chance? Too busy weighing pros and cons, you just overthink.”
“Bihen Benkou, you know as well as I do. Earlier, innocent Imperials’ lives were nearly held hostage… And if the Eldest Brother finds out, he’ll launch a massive purge. That’s handing him a cause. Everything would be ruined before we even start.”
“Ruin what, exactly?”
Adeline took a deep breath.
“My father promised me. When his time comes, he’ll name me the official heir. He didn’t announce it beforehand—you know why. He feared the chaos of breaking the tradition of primogeniture.”
“He was wary of the Eldest Brother.”
“Yes. But that didn’t work either. Whether he realized Father had chosen an heir or simply no longer cares to hide his brutal nature…”
I’d heard she wasn’t even twenty yet.
The fleeting glimpse of worry on her face as she caught her breath was no less than that of someone middle-aged.
“I vowed to be cautious, doubly so. When the time comes, I believe the warriors I’ve quietly bonded with and the nobles indebted to my predecessors will rise for a just cause. My job is to prepare thoroughly for that moment.”
“So, you’re a dreamer.”
I couldn’t help but scoff.
Adeline, Eugene, Joel, Janson, and even Mateo.
All sorts of gazes poured onto me.
“I’d like to ask the Lady. What’s most important? The duchess title, or your duty as a lady?”
“Well, of course…”
Despite her vigor, she couldn’t answer readily.
Did she realize? That there’s a contradiction in her words.
…Well.
It’d be nice if she did, but premature hope often breeds disappointment.
Adeline cut in before her turn to respond.
“Don’t you already know? The serfs trampled and oppressed, knights running rampant without fear of heaven, scattered everywhere. How long will you just watch, waiting for some promised day? Even tolerating the Empire’s trading companies plotting bold conspiracies.”
“…”
“Failing to wield the sharpest blade in the land at the right time and place… I don’t know.
To me, it just sounds like the cowardly excuses of the incompetent.”
I cut myself off, swallowing hard.
It felt like the right thing to do.
A mix of slight regret and inexplicable self-loathing washed over me.
Inexplicable? No, actually, one guy had been on my mind for a while.
The kind who shows up just when you think you’ve forgotten, his face flickering before your eyes.
Dragon in the Fog! I ask you! What is our mission? Victory in war, or slaughtering civilians!
Both are wrong. A soldier’s duty is to obey orders.
Martial Blade Without Virtue! It is said that wielding a sword without righteousness is no different from a beast! Are you saying, Captain, that you’d blindly follow orders even if it meant becoming a beast!
…I’m a soldier, and I was ordered to capture deserters and make an example of them.
Cowardly excuses of a pathetic man!
…I quickly bowed my head.
“I overstepped. Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”
* * *
It was all familiar talk.
‘…’
Adeline couldn’t bring herself to lift her head.
It was rare.
Managing her emotions as usual felt overwhelming.
“Well, we should hurry along now.”
“B-Bihen. Wait. You’re really leaving like this?”
Hearing the conversation, Adeline finally snapped her head up.
The sound of sniffing came along with it.
“Pass my regards to Captain Jayden.”
“…What kind of nonsense is that?”
“You went through a lot because of me, Janson. I’m grateful.”
“No… Ha, something’s off. Why’s the conversation ending like this? Let’s go back together. There’s got to be a way.”
I didn’t show it, but thinking back, it was dizzying.
I keenly realized how heavy it is to fight bearing the weight of others’ lives.
And now, on top of the Firefield villagers, the guards too?
Bihen quietly shook his head.
At that moment, Adeline asked.
“Do you have other plans?”
As Adeline questioned Bihen, Joel’s eyes widened inexplicably.
It was because Adeline’s eyes were bloodshot, like someone who’d just stopped crying.
The nasal voice was a bonus.
‘W-what, the Lady was crying…?!’
What in the world happened in the time it took to lower and raise his head?
Joel’s mind was thrown into confusion out of nowhere.
“For now, once we secure a temporary place to stay, I plan to meet Jewelina Gunbel alone. I need to find a way back to the Empire. If there are those who don’t wish to return, I’ll gather them and look for a new settlement.”
“Neither will be easy.”
“Still, I’ve got to keep trying.”
“Let’s all go to Canchester.”
Adeline’s resolute voice suddenly broke the silence.
“That’s why I brought the Firefield villagers out earlier. I’ll take responsibility.”
Her bloodshot eyes, still teary from moments ago, now seemed to burn with determination.
It was no different.
“Sir Bihen, I need your sword.”
Her added words sent ripples through the room.
Janson and Joel gasped in unison, and even Mateo’s lips parted slightly.
Each doubted their ears.
The heiress of the duke house ruling the eastern Kingdom extended a hand of courtship to an Imperial ronin.
It was a tale straight out of legend.
“Will you help me?”