『Many boys dream of becoming the hero.』
『But not every boy can become one.』
『At least, I couldn't.』
When I put Petel's sword into my mouth, the first thing that surfaced was his life. I glimpsed a boy from behind, untouched by illness, his whole future still ahead of him. The knight's memories the blade brought me began in his boyhood.
The first sword his father had given him.
A sharp sword as large as young Petel's torso.
『I simply realized that far too late.』
Petel's sword had no name of its own.
* * *
Two days was a short time.
After I ate Petel's sword, Liam proposed no special training. The exercise he prescribed was utterly simple and familiar.
「From now until the duel of honor begins, you will swing your sword.」
「There will be no rest. You will keep swinging until your body burns as though it might burst.」
This time, I neither doubted nor argued. Instead, I nodded, found a blade resembling Petel's sword, gripped it tightly, and swung.
"Whew."
Even as the muscles in my forearms tightened, my shoulders ached, and exhaustion weighed down my body, I swung again and again. That was when Seolyun approached.
"... Are you going to fight in Petel's place?"
"Yes."
She hesitated briefly at my answer.
"Tell me if you need sparring with agreed moves."
That was not what I had expected her to say.
I spoke without pausing my swings.
"Seolyun, didn't you follow me here to reach a higher level of swordsmanship?"
"I did."
"Then why aren't you stopping me when I say I'm going to fight a 「sword runner」 knight?"
WHOOSH
The sword cut through the air.
"Besides, since you followed me, you haven't found any clues to advancing your swordsmanship or had any extraordinary experiences. Yet you haven't complained... You just keep quietly waiting, and I'm curious why. I think I'd have plenty of complaints in your position."
It was a reasonable question.
Seolyun answered,
"I think watching the steps you take is itself the answer to reaching a higher path."
"..."
"Don't worry. This was my choice, too, and I'm perfectly satisfied. I have no complaints, Little Gladiator."
She looked at me with her usual impassive gaze.
"And even if you fight a 「sword runner」, I don't think you'll die."
"...?"
"That's the feeling I get."
Her cool voice carried through the air.
"Can you promise me just one thing?"
"What is it?"
"If you come back alive, fight me once in earnest. Not sparring with agreed moves. Like last time."
She stroked the sword at her waist as she spoke.
"I think that would be a very valuable step forward for me."
It was not a difficult request.
Besides, sparring with Seolyun would benefit me, too. As a beginner, I was fortunate simply to have a genius like her as a training partner.
Of course, there was a prerequisite.
"Yes. If I survive, as often as you like."
WHOOSH!
I swung the sword again. Forcefully.
『Rough swordsmanship you could find anywhere.』
『An unremarkable face. A dull way of speaking.』
With every glistening bead of sweat, memories flowed into me—the life of the sword's former owner, my kind neighbor who had now departed this world.
『I was a knight like any other.』
* * *
I was a knight like any other.
No one paid attention to me.
["Petel? I think that was your name. Am I right?"]
There were far too many knights like me in the city. Young men who read chivalric romances, were born into reasonably respectable families, trained with the sword, and graduated from the academy.
["You are."]
Even among them, I was ignorant and unusually rigid.
["You're inflexible."]
I was incapable of offering empty flattery at the drinking gatherings knights commonly held. Back then, I thought that was admirable.
["You're a boring man, Petel."]
The heroes of chivalric romances say what must be said without compromising their convictions, whatever the circumstances. The loyal subjects recorded in history books likewise speak loyally, prepared to face death.
I thought that unyielding stance was admirable.
["You needn't come to our gatherings anymore."]
But they could be remembered so admiringly because they were great figures who defined their age, or heroes who commanded everyone's attention.
["You always spoil the mood."]
I had become an unsociable, socially inept knight who couldn't read a room—a dull, rigid old man in a young man's body whom everyone avoided.
At such times, I would swing my sword alone, telling myself over and over that a true knight had no need of friends. I believed that someday, everyone would recognize my sincerity.
But...
["Those unshakable convictions of yours are truly admirable!"]
["Hahaha! What spirit for such a young man!"]
The world was cold.
["That must be why you manifested wings so young. 「Sword runners」 really are a breed apart. You must come to the next gathering!"]
A knight who acted and spoke exactly as I did attracted attention at once. He was neither more eloquent than me nor better at pleasing people.
There was only one difference between me and that man, who told outdated jokes and acted aloof like the hero of a chivalric romance. I was a 「sword walker」, and he was a 「sword runner」.
["..."]
It was around then that I realized.
I was not someone who could become the hero.
And for someone who wasn't the hero to survive, he had to whittle away his convictions, flatter others, and become the sort of person fit to be even an extra in a chivalric romance.
["You're all truly remarkable."]
Only then could I avoid being driven off the stage.
["Give me any task. I will carry it out honorably."]
That was how 「Petel the Loyal」 was born.
I paid no mind when others mocked me as an obedient dog.
It was the way I had chosen to survive.
Even when self-loathing welled up, even when I felt ashamed of myself, I pushed the path I had chosen through to the end.
Because the shining world I had dreamed of since childhood—the world of the chivalric romances I had read since I was a boy—was here.
Because I wanted to keep even one foot in that world and exist as a part of it.
["... Petel! Peteeel!"]
I went through life half in a daze.
Time accelerated amid the repetitive routine, and I became a knight of an awkward age, a little too old to be called a young man.
In that endlessly turning world, the event that changed me came without warning.
["Papa said you're going to protect me from now on!"]
An obedient dog.
Because I was considered trustworthy, I was assigned to guard the youngest daughter of the master I served. She was a small young lady, still immature, with a fresh, innocent charm.
["I'm counting on you. Everyone said I could trust you, Petel."]
The girl's name was Daisy.
Like the flower.
["Petel the Loyal. Yes, that's what everyone calls you."]
Her little smile was like a puppy's.
["It's wonderful. You sound like the hero of a chivalric romance. A splendid knight who never betrays anyone and upholds his honor. I'm so happy you've become my guard. Hehe."]
An innocent girl is bound to bring joy to everyone.
Despite being a noble, Daisy was always popular at social parties and loved by the people of the estate—a brightly shining child adored by everyone.
["Petel."]
That was before my master became entangled in the Iron Kingdom's bloody succession struggle and fell from grace, before his property was confiscated and his mansion burned.
["Sir Petel."]
The girl's flowing clothes gave way to worn, shabby cloth garments. She grew too old to be called a girl anymore, and, stripped of her title, fell to a station where she could no longer address me casually by name.
["Why do you still protect our family?"]
Even so, I remained at Daisy's side.
["We've fallen into poverty and haven't paid your wages for two months. We can hardly offer you a room befitting a knight, or even proper meals. Why are you still here?"]
I didn't know either.
Why I was here, when I had compromised with reality enough to offer empty flattery, please others at gatherings, and become a loyal dog.
I still do not know why I remained in this place that offered neither money nor honor, far removed from the life of a chivalric hero, wasting my youth and taking up my sword.
I looked at Daisy.
She had become a woman, her youthful freshness gone. Her appearance was plain rather than particularly beautiful. Yet whenever I looked at her, I still remembered the past.
["Because I am Petel the Loyal."]
The words she had said to me still remained within me.
["I will never betray you, and I will uphold my honor. Always."]
Perhaps, at some point, I had realized.
Insignificant as I was, to her alone I might be a knight like the hero of a novel. That was why I could not leave you.
I felt as though I had returned to the rigid, stubborn, dull, rough-edged man I was before compromising with reality.
["Like the hero of a chivalric romance."]
It wasn't so bad.
["I, too, am very happy to have become your guard."]
Perhaps I had yet to outgrow the boy I once was.
Just as Daisy still smiled like a girl when she heard my words.
["Thank you, Sir Petel."]
Three days later, Daisy appeared in tears.
At a party she had attended in hopes of gaining even a small foothold in society, she had suffered an indelible humiliation. I saw her torn clothes and the hideous wound on her chest.
I took up my sword.
["Sir Petel, don't go. He's the son of a baron. Our family has fallen, and we can't protect you. The knights they've hired may be 「sword walkers」, but they're seasoned swordsmen who have won countless wars. Please. You're one of the few precious people I have left."]
Despite Daisy's pleas, I stepped forward.
What sudden courage had welled up within me?
Clad in worn armor, I stood proudly before the main gate of the baron's lavish mansion. Looking at his drunken son, I spoke without a moment's hesitation.
["I challenge you to a duel of honor."]
That was the first duel of honor of my life.
.
.
.
"Whew, hah..."
As I swung my sword incessantly, day passed and evening arrived before I knew it. In the evening sky was the sunset Petel had always watched. A vermilion sunset staining the heavens.
「Against an unseasoned sword runner, there is a chance.」
「He probably intended to trample Petel's convictions and create another pair of wings for himself.」
The muscles in my arms began to tremble.
Having continued to swing with all my strength, I was reaching my limit.
"Does trampling someone else's convictions help improve your skill?"
「At a level as high as sword runner, yes. You see, once your swordsmanship passes a certain point, you inevitably develop a set of values of your own.」
Liam continued.
「Swordsmen with destructive values grow by trampling and shattering others' convictions. Those with upright, steadfast values grow by rigorously honing themselves.」
"..."
「That fellow likely has destructive values. Such men usually grow quickly, but they are unstable. We Caravans, who pursue solidity above all others, have always been the natural enemies of such wicked creatures.」
As day passed, the cold gradually settled in.
I felt the chill evening air against me.
「If the swords you have eaten so far intertwine with Petel's, they may produce a tremendous synergy. What you have slowly built is beginning to shine, and your body is being rapidly forged as well.」
"... Is that so?"
「Yes. Of course, even accounting for all of that, your chances of victory remain exceedingly low.」
Liam warned me.
「A sword runner's wings possess power beyond the laws of this world. You will feel as though you are fighting someone who cheats. Incomplete though they may be, to you they are monsters.」
As he said, 「sword runners」 were like specters on the battlefield. Their fearsome reputation extended beyond the Iron Kingdom, across the entire continent.
「Proving something is, by its nature, this difficult. At this rate, you may die as futile a death as your father. Like that knight who couldn't last even a week before disease devoured him.」
"..."
「Reality is this harsh. If you wish to stand against this unjust world and find the answer you desire, you must become steel far harder than you imagine.」
My head spins.
My whole body feels ready to burst.
Even so, I swing the sword.
It feels as though smoke is rising from my body.
My muscles burn, my head is hot, and the sky slowly turns vermilion.
My breath burned hot, yet for some reason I was captivated by the sunset before me. For a moment, it stole my gaze. Then I lowered my head and looked at the sword in my hand.
A blade resembling the sword Petel had used all his life.
This sword still had no name.
A thought suddenly occurred to me.
"I'd like to give this sword a name."
「What name?」
I answered without hesitation, looking at the sunset Petel had loved.
"「Twilight」."
* * *
Two days passed.
The knightly order stationed at the village entrance had erected a temporary fence to create an arena for the duel of honor. Their deputy commander, Meken, stood on its left side.
With his keen-edged sword drawn, he awaited his opponent. Around the time the sun reached its zenith, a man in silver armor appeared, walking slowly down from the ridge.
"...?"
Meken doubted his own eyes.
The man emerging through the dust was Petel. Petel with an unwavering gaze and no trace of illness. He looked like steel, just as Meken remembered him from long ago.
'No. No, that's...'
But Meken soon realized it was an illusion. Only after closing his eyes and opening them again did he see the truth. The man who had descended the hill was the village boy he had seen before.
Yet strangely, the boy exuded the distinctive dignity of a knight. His posture was so stiffly precise that it seemed Petel's soul had entered his body.
There was something else strange about him, too.
'Was he always that solidly built?'
The boy's body looked sturdier and harder than before.
Like a knight who had trained for years.
It was odd.
Meken didn't think he had been built like that two days ago.
Walking with proper posture, the boy reached the arena where the knights had gathered. Meken watched him step inside and asked,
"Where is Sir Petel?"
"Petel will not be coming."
"Did he finally give up and flee?"
"He is dead. He died of his illness."
The boy spoke in the manner of a noble.
Meken replied,
"Then, since he failed to appear for the duel of honor, I win."
"No. Petel's death does not cancel the duel of honor."
"What wordplay is this?"
The boy drew the sword at his waist.
"I will fight this duel of honor as his champion."
The blade he drew bore an extraordinary resemblance to the sword Petel had used in life. Meken briefly frowned at the unexpected turn of events, then curled his lips into a grin.
A pair of wings flicked open.
Meken said,
"That should be entertaining, too."
And so the curtain rose on the duel of honor.
* * *
「Name: Twilight」
「A long, keen-edged sword used by the knight Petel.」
「A longsword of the type typically used by knights.」
.
.
.
「Consumption Effects」
「You acquire Petel's swordsmanship.」
「Your body is forged to suit the knight Petel's swordsmanship.」
「A body through which the blood of steel flows grows stronger with every blow.」
