Chapter 03
“You promised. If I win, you’ll teach me how to use a sword.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the mercenaries erupted into laughter and cheers at the unexpected entertainment.
“Didn’t know real men still existed!”
“Maybe the future of mankind isn’t so bleak after all!”
Johann Wolf Frostman let out a disbelieving chuckle, close to a gasp of shock.
“A duel? Camilla! This joke has gone too far. How can you even—”
“—Let’s just watch for now.”
It was the mercenary captain, Eltoram, who stopped Wolf from desperately trying to intervene.
“When the disciples of the famed Seven Sword Peaks or the successors of the Three Great Sword Houses came, the Lady didn’t even bother to face them—she just drove them off.”
“……!”
“But now she’s giving that brat a chance to duel? That arrogant little kid? Must mean she saw something in him.”
Eltoram’s evaluation was oddly favorable. Perhaps it was because he sensed something unusual, a strange kind of spirit, from Kaicen during their earlier encounter.
“And didn’t you notice the crest on his cheek? It’s the emblem of the Valkrush Clan—the one that’s been leaving scorched earth wherever they go.”
“……!”
“That means he’s a warrior officially recognized by the Valkrush chieftain. He’s gotta have something to show us.”
Even after hearing all that, Wolf’s eyes behind his glasses were filled with nothing but concern.
‘Just who is this Camilla…?’
She was a direct disciple of Laminea Alter Aradamantel, the hero once hailed as the strongest of all “Faequariors.”
Even the empire’s most renowned knights couldn’t withstand more than three exchanges against her.
‘And now this scrawny, half-starved boy thinks he can last a single strike?’
Kaicen gripped the sword.
It was the first time in his life holding a longsword, and the weight was almost unbearable.
He couldn’t hold it with one hand—he had to grasp it with both. Only then did the trembling blade stop shaking.
“In exchange, answer this one question clearly.”
Instead of drawing the sacred sword at her hip, Camilla picked up a tree branch from the grass.
“…You’re going to fight with that?”
“If you don’t like it, you can use one too. Anything can be a weapon.”
Overwhelming presence.
No—suffocating murderous intent.
It was just a tree branch. Just a twig. But the air around it seemed to burn.
But what was even more suffocating than her sword aura was the question Camilla threw at him.
“So, tell me—do you seriously think your mom’s death was your fault?”
He couldn’t breathe.
It was a question he couldn’t answer.
Camilla looked at him like she already knew the answer.
“You’re weak as hell. What could someone like you possibly do?”
His mind suddenly went blank.
“And yet you blame yourself for doing nothing when your mom was killed by Uruk? Why?”
What Camilla truly hoped for at that moment…
Was that her former master’s son would direct his resentment not at some vague, abstract world—but at her. At a tangible person.
“It was inevitable, wasn’t it?”
Don’t fall into despair.
When you’re faced with overwhelming hopelessness, if you give up, you’ll eventually give up on life too.
“You were just born a weakling. So if you have to blame someone, blame the world, not yourself.”
She couldn’t allow him to hate Uruk. That was too dangerous.
Better to redirect that resentment toward herself.
That sharp edge of emotion—that would keep him alive.
“You couldn’t do anything back then. That’s exactly why you survived!”
A storm of emotion surged violently within the depths of Kaicen’s heart.
What was this feeling?
Something inside his chest exploded like molten lava. The heat bursting through made his body launch forward.
“Whoa there!”
The crowd erupted once more with enthusiastic shouts.
“The little guy charged in first!”
“Ha! That fighting spirit could give knights a run for their money!”
Only Wolf and Eltoram, Camilla’s long-time friends, frowned with confusion.
‘This is getting harder and harder to understand.’
‘Camilla provoked him? And a kid like that?’
Just as Laminea had succeeded Rista Alter Shurfang as a legendary hero, Camilla was now a dominant force among the current Faequariors.
She was the top warrior among them, no doubt about it. So then… what the hell was this kid?
Eltoram and the veteran mercenaries held their breath, eyes fixed on the boy’s charge. What would he show them?
But—
Thunk…!
In the next instant, Kaicen was flying through the air before he could even swing his sword.
The match was over in a single move—Camilla had simply flicked her finger.
She hadn’t even used the branch she held like a joke. She just gave a light tap with it—a simple flick to the forehead.
There wasn’t even a single exchange of blows.
Yet that one strike sent Kaicen tumbling across the ground three times, and all thought vanished from his head.
“What… was that?”
Captain Eltoram and the veterans looked at each other, puzzled.
“He doesn’t even know how to use a sword.”
“Yeah. That didn’t look like he’s trained in any martial arts at all.”
“Then how did he get recognized by the Valkrush Clan?”
Camilla walked up to the dazed Kaicen, her face expressionless.
“That wasn’t your fault. And it wasn’t your mother’s fault either.”
Shiiiing— Her master’s short sword slid from its sheath at her hip, glowing ominously in the sunlight.
“It’s the fault of us Faequariors who are never there when we’re needed! Not yours! So don’t go barking about revenge with that pathetic, tear-streaked face!”
The moment she slammed the short sword down with all her strength, the entire crowd gasped in horror.
“Camilla!”
“Wait, did she… actually kill him…?”
“Oh my god… I mean, even if she talks like a villain, I always believed she was a good person!”
But she hadn’t killed him.
Wolf rushed over, relieved to see the blade had pierced the ground just beside Kaicen’s head.
Camilla tossed the sword’s sheath onto Kaicen’s face.
“A brat without a shred of talent talking about revenge? You want me to teach you the sword? Forget it. I’ll take revenge for you, so take that and get lost.”
Camilla bit her lip as she turned away.
Whatever had happened, her master Laminea had died protecting this kid.
And the fact that he’d made it this far in life without ever learning to wield a sword meant her master hadn’t wanted him involved in that world.
‘I can’t just trample over the decision my master made so carefully.’
Just as she turned to leave, it happened.
“!”
Snap…
Something broke against her shin guard.
‘A branch…?’
A feeble attack that would’ve been meaningless in a real duel.
“That counts as a hit… right? You said anything can be a weapon.”
Camilla. Wolf. Eltoram. The entire crowd of mercenaries went speechless at the boy’s move—they thought he had fainted.
“What just happened…?”
“Technically, it hit her… so… does that mean the Lady lost?”
The mercenaries mumbled in confusion until Camilla glared sharply at them—and they quickly shut up and looked away.
“Are those really the eyes of a little brat?”
Eltoram was also stunned.
Those were the eyes of a warrior.
Even in that situation, he hadn’t lost his fighting spirit… Was this the sign of a top-tier fighter?
“Kaicen, are you okay? Kid! Snap out of it!”
Wolf cradled Kaicen’s limp form, urgently checking his condition.
“Hey! Hey, you two—get a tent ready! And you, fetch the herbs I’m about to list—quick!”
Childhood,
Prologue of Summer (2)
“Where am I…?”
The next evening, just as the field blanketed in volcanic ash turned crimson in the twilight, Kaisen opened his eyes.
The savory scent of oatmeal seemed to have roused his starving brain.
Wolf, who had been sitting at his bedside, gave a bright smile.
“You’re finally awake? Thank goodness.”
Kaisen tried to sit up in bed, but with a groan, he collapsed again.
Pain surged through his entire body.
It felt as though the exhaustion that had built up over the past month had finally exploded. But more than anything, his forehead hurt—where he’d been flicked.
“Was that really just a flick? It felt like I got smacked with a hammer.”
Wolf, gently stirring the pot of oatmeal with a spoon, scooped some into a bowl and handed it to Kaisen.
“Let’s get your strength back first. You’ll heal faster that way.”
“…I can feed myself.”
“Don’t push it. Come on. Even moving must be hard for you right now.”
He had wanted to argue gruffly, but couldn’t.
Wolf’s eyes were just too calm, too kind.
Who is this person…?
Who is he to be this kind to me—a near stranger? I don’t understand.
“How is it? Too bland? Sorry about that. It’s been a while since I made medicinal oatmeal.”
After a brief struggle, Kaisen gave in and quietly munched on the oatmeal Wolf fed him.
It didn’t taste good.
Honestly, it didn’t even have much texture. And yet… why did a tear well up in his eye without him realizing?
“Was it so delicious it made you cry? I’m touched.”
“No. I’m crying because it’s so bad.”
“I see. So my cooking really is trash. Hah, I figured as much. I’m garbage at everything except magic…”
Wolf suddenly slumped and turned away, beginning to write something gloomily in his notebook.
What’s with this guy…?
Kaisen hadn’t been moved by the taste of the food.
It was simply that… it had been so long since he’d eaten something made with such warmth and care.
Just like his mother used to, as part of their daily life…
“I’m sorry.”
Wolf apologized out of the blue, just as Kaisen was finishing the bowl of oatmeal.
“For making me eat this?”
“No, I mean about Camilla. She may seem cold, but she used to be incredibly kind.”
“That woman?”
“It’s true. She changed after the captain died.”
Captain?
Kaisen tilted his head, and Wolf spoke in a dreamy tone.
“Most Feyquari warriors have a mentor. Our captain was Camilla’s. A truly remarkable person…”
“…?”
“Ever since then, she’s never shown affection to anyone. Not even emotion. But today she played a trick on you… I don’t get it either.”
“She must’ve really loved that captain.”
“Kaisen, we all loved her. No one disliked her.”
The smile Wolf gave was wretched.
It was bitter, pained, and full of sorrow. He placed a hand on Kaisen’s head.
“I’ll apologize on behalf of my foolish friend, Kaisen. I hope you can forgive her.”
“No need for forgiveness! Just teach me how to use a sword! Then I can forgive anything!”
“…”
“I can start learning now, right? You said even grazing her would count as a win!”
With a low sigh, Wolf firmly shook his head.
“That’s not right. Do you really think Camilla would accept that as a defeat?”
“Then I’ll challenge her again. And again.”
“Until when?”
“Until I win.”
A hatred that bordered on obsession…
Like a sharp blade forged into a single point.
Even if you told him to let go of his vengeance, of his hatred, and live peacefully away from the battlefield—he wouldn’t listen.
“Even if I tried to teach you, we’d just repeat what happened today. Kaisen, can you read?”
What Wolf offered wasn’t a normal book, but a grimoire—something only experts could understand.
Numbers…?
A string of numbers? What does it mean?
The numbers were written in a messy yet strangely patterned way, but he couldn’t make sense of them.
“You can’t read it, can you? That’s exactly your situation right now.”
“…?!”
“You’re trying to learn the core without knowing the basics. And as you saw, Camilla isn’t the type to teach anyone from scratch.”
“Then what should I do?”
Kaisen burst out, his tone disrespectful in a moment of frustration—but Wolf’s gentle smile didn’t fade.
“If you follow my instructions, you might be able to learn. I can’t guarantee it, though—because the method I’m about to teach you depends entirely on your talent.”
Talent…?
He didn’t even get a chance to find out if he had any before getting smacked. Would he really have it?
Wolf flicked Kaisen’s forehead lightly with his thumb.
“Eltoram said you had the talent of a warrior. So just rest for now. Once you’ve recovered, I’ll teach you step by step.”
“Rest? Do nothing?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t need rest. Just teach me now! What’s the big deal about these basics?!”
His voice as he shouted, the tears pooling in his eyes, and the tremble in his clenched fists were heartbreaking.
“I… I couldn’t do anything… Not even when my mom died… And now you’re telling me to do nothing again…”
“Kaisen…”
“Those Uruk bastards are running wild out there! Tell ‘do nothing’ to go screw itself! I’m going to kill them! Every single one of them! Not a single one left!”
There is no sound to a cry twisted by rage—just seething emotion in the boy’s eyes. Wolf watched it silently for a long time, then sighed deeply.
Ah…
This world is far too cruel.
There’s no such thing as a righteous hero who slays evil and brings peace to the land…
Wolf let out a long breath and draped a snow-white mage cloak over his shoulders, smiling faintly.
“In that case, will you follow me? If you can keep up, that is.”
Kaisen jumped up, yelling.
Wolf walked ahead slowly, the hem of his cloak fluttering.
He was kind. Even as he walked ahead, he looked back to wait.
“What do you think is the foundation of swordsmanship, Kaisen?”
And so Kaisen followed Wolf up the hillside slope.
Slowly—so slowly it felt gentle.
He glanced up at the sky.
It was not yet consumed by the ash of summer. The night sky held steady, and the wild grass shimmered with the light of four moons.
“I’m no expert in swordsmanship, but I’ve always been curious. So I once asked the captain.”
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘Footwork.’ It’s the foundation and core of all martial arts.”
In linguistic terms, it’d be like grammar and vocabulary… Wolf muttered and then stopped at the hilltop.
“This should be far enough.”
As Wolf spread his palm, a frost-colored magic circle appeared and spun.
Then another one layered over it.
And again, a third.
It was the realm of 3rd-tier magic—only achievable by high-ranking mages in the Empire’s seven-star system. But bumpkin Kaisen didn’t realize this, nor would he have been impressed.
Shiiiing!
The moment Wolf gripped the triple-layered circle and shattered it, Kaisen’s eyes widened.
An illusion…?
Suddenly, a shadow made of cold appeared at the hilltop.
It stood in a stance, holding a sword.
“This is 3rd-tier magic: Active Tracking: Replay. It’s a spell normally used by inquisitors. I recreated it using an ice element base.”
With a gesture from Wolf, the white shadow began to dance.
A violent yet graceful dance.
“This is…?”
Kaisen stared blankly.
Not just because the sword dance was dazzling—but because he recognized it.
He had seen these movements again and again… in everyday life… through his mother.
He barely held back the pain tearing through his chest.
Wolf spoke in a soft tone.
“This is a replication of Camilla’s movements.”
Camilla’s movements…?
Then… could it be that Camilla’s mentor was truly his mother?
“She’s surprisingly consistent. Even now, she trains at the exact time the captain set for her. So it was easy to track her with this spell.”
The moment Wolf snapped his fingers again, the shadow froze in place.
“That single dance holds the essence of the swordsmanship Camilla built up over nearly 20 years. Without matching her footwork, landing a hit is impossible.”
“…!”
“As I said before, she has an unhealthy attachment to the captain. So she strictly follows all of her teachings.”
And among those teachings was: Be a woman who always keeps her promises. Wolf added this with a little smile.
“I’m not asking you to copy everything. But at the very least, you need to perfectly follow the footwork. Only then can you land a blow on Camilla.”
This wasn’t some secret strategy of Wolf’s.
He had simply witnessed this training once, on that dazzling day when young Camilla became Laminea’s disciple.
“What do you think? Want to give it a try?”
Back then, Laminea had asked Camilla the same question.
Camilla, once the illegitimate daughter of the famed Belchester sword family, had answered not with words—but by clumsily mimicking her master’s footwork.
Of course, Laminea’s movements were on another level entirely.
But Camilla had followed them—thanks to her natural talent.
But what is this…?
This boy—he’s doing the same thing.
Maybe that’s why, for a moment, Wolf saw young Camilla’s figure overlap with Kaisen’s.
What… is this…?
Even with his injuries, his movements shouldn’t be this free—and yet, he was keeping up at a decent level.
Wolf couldn’t help but gasp.
He tried mimicking it himself—but couldn’t even keep up past the third sequence.
Overwhelming… no, this is what they call violent talent, isn’t it?
A breathless laugh escaped him.
Camilla said Kaisen had no talent?
Not a chance.
He simply… never had the chance to learn—until now.
