* * *
After laughing for a good while, Vivisian finally composed himself and asked Hesia:
“Do you have a spare weapon? Preferably a longsword, but anything’s fine.”
“You… want to help?” Hesia looked concerned.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to—”
“I’m already out here. Might as well move around a bit. But if it’s uncomfortable having me interfere with your drills, I won’t push it.”
Hesia shook his head vigorously, calling over a knight.
“Do we have any spare longswords?”
“Yes, sir, a few.”
“Bring one over.”
“Right away!”
The knight quickly returned with a heavy sword.
They always carried spares for emergencies, so it didn’t take long to prepare.
Hesia took the sword, slicing lightly through the air to test it, his head tilting slightly.
“Hmm, standard issue quality—not great, but should be fine for temporary use.”
“As long as the blade’s sharp, it’s enough.”
Vivisian casually closed his parasol, tossing it aside, and accepted the sword from Hesia.
Despite the sword’s weight, he swung it easily, smiling softly.
“Perfect.”
He looked so at ease, as if this wasteland full of heretics was nothing but a simple training ground.
It wasn’t uncommon for noble-born individuals to throw themselves into dangerous situations out of ignorance, but the knights knew their duty was to guard them, even at the cost of their lives.
And no matter what anyone thought, Vivisian was the one who had captured the heart of the man they served.
That made him precious, and it was their job to shield him, even if his skills were exceptional.
Fortunately, it didn’t take long for everyone to realize that Vivisian’s confidence wasn’t just for show.
“There’s more of them than I thought…”
Murmuring to himself, Vivisian casually sliced through a heretic’s torso.
From the wound, instead of red blood, a foul-smelling, green fluid gushed out—proof that it was not entirely human.
Taking a step back to avoid the splatter, he flicked the corrupted remains off his sword.
Something landed on the ground with a wet squelch, making the weapon feel lighter.
A glance at the blade revealed it was already quite worn.
“Tsk. Guess this one’s done after today.”
With a sigh, Vivisian wrapped a faint pulse of divine energy around the blade.
Unlike the other knights, who needed holy water to harm heretics, he could cut them down with minimal divine power.
It was one of the few things he appreciated about himself as he lazily lifted the sword again.
The tip of the blade held steady in the air.
Vivisian stepped toward a nearby heretic and swung.
The fabric of his delicate clothes fluttered around him, elegant even in the midst of battle.
Through the falling sleeve, he saw the heretic collapse.
Bullseye.
Satisfied, he withdrew the blade, flicking off the tainted liquid.
When he turned his head, he noticed the vice-captain watching him with strangely sparkling eyes.
A moment ago, she had been clearing the area of remaining heretic fragments, ensuring the kills were confirmed.
“Is something wrong?”
Meeting her eyes for a moment, Vivisian asked slowly.
The vice-captain shook her head with such intensity he worried her neck might snap.
“No! It’s just… Among the Saints, many are skilled in combat, but most rely on their powers, so few excel at swordsmanship… I was just impressed. I apologize if that was inappropriate.”
“Ah, well. It’s hardly inappropriate. Miranda, was it?”
“Yes, sir!”
“You’re right—the Saints mostly focus on abilities. Swordsmanship is just basic education. Most of the time, we fight heretics with powers alone, so there’s little reason to train the body.”
His voice carried a trace of amusement, and Miranda nodded as if everything made sense.
Following her gaze, Vivisian looked to where Hesia was leading knights, cutting down the remaining heretics.
His stance… not bad.
He’s been training.
“But I had no choice but to focus on swordsmanship,” Vivisian added casually.
“I never had a proper guide for my divine powers. If I recklessly used abilities, I would’ve died. To survive, I had to master the sword.”
He remembered how, even when he pushed his powers a little, it would spiral out of control.
Maybe sleeping for eight years straight hadn’t helped.
Gazing down at the blade, stained with the foul remnants of heretics, he couldn’t help but recall those vivid memories—so fresh, it was like they happened just yesterday.
The reflection of my face faintly appeared on the blade smeared with the heretic’s bodily fluids.
Staring at my endlessly calm face, even as I recalled the moment of my death, I turned my head away.
“That’s part of why I focused on swordsmanship… But I also genuinely liked it.”
“You liked swords?”
“Yes, swords. When I swing a sword, I can’t see anything else. It’s different in actual combat, of course, but when you’re learning… it’s just me and the sword.”
What I didn’t bother mentioning was that it was also because of Letiyan.
My damned twin brother had been coveting the position of Duke since we were young, and I had to prove I didn’t desire it at all.
The Duchy of Teian was a peaceful territory that needed a skilled politician more than a swordsman.
That’s why I spent more time with the sword than with books.
Of course, it was never in my calculations that Letiyan would turn out to be dumber than me, even though I wasted my time on swordplay instead of academics.
‘A guy like you, who’s always had everything, would never understand how I feel! That crushing despair of knowing I could work my whole life and still never even reach your shadow. And the hollow frustration of knowing that someone like you, who stands above me in every way, doesn’t even care for the things I desperately want. You’ve never been the weak one, Vivisian. So you should feel it now. My helplessness. My emptiness!’
Suddenly, the voice of someone long dead echoed in my mind, and the tip of my sword trembled faintly.
The things of the past, though long gone, still shook me from time to time.
The gods returned all memories of the past to Hesia.
In contrast, they gave me distance from it all by embedding me into this world as a “character from the original work.” Maybe the gods genuinely favored me for that.
After all, the me of the past — the one who was trapped for eight years, who slept for those same eight years — that me, if I had remembered him clearly from the start… I probably would’ve wanted to die for real.
Gripping the sword a little tighter, I steadied my breathing.
None of it matters anymore.
I only have one year left.
All I need to do is focus on that.
If I do, then… surely, everything will be okay.
Past the blade, beyond the heretic’s form, I caught sight of pale pink hair.
His face, usually always smiling when looking at me, was now expressionless as he swung his sword and shouted.
“Look forward and keep moving. Do not be afraid, my knights. You have trained for this, and you are more than capable of overcoming it!”
In that moment, Hesia looked like someone truly unafraid of anything.
The person who trembled with a smile as if the entire world was both terrifying and a blessing when standing in front of me — that Hesia was nowhere to be seen.
As I watched him, entranced, Miranda whispered softly beside me.
“Sir Vivisian, heretics are approaching.”
“…Sorry. I got distracted.”
“Oh, no need to apologize for that. But… what were you looking at? Ah, His Highness is there. Isn’t he incredible? It hasn’t even been a few years since he picked up a sword, and yet he already defeats most knights.”
She sounded so proud, like a parent bragging about their child, that I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as I turned my eyes forward.
“You seem to have known Hesia for a long time.”
“Yes. I’ve known His Highness since I was just a regular knight, before becoming vice-captain. Back then, he was so small he couldn’t even hold a sword properly. But around sixteen, he finally started wielding one seriously. He always said, ‘I don’t want to lose anything ever again.'”
And sure enough, once he reached a certain level, there was nothing left for him to fear.
No one could harm His Highness, and he had the strength to defend himself.
So why would he be afraid?
Miranda beamed as if boasting about a younger sibling’s growth.
The Hesia she spoke of sounded like someone who didn’t know fear.
She didn’t know about the Hesia who often woke up in the night, looking for me — the one who only managed to fall back asleep once he confirmed I was there.
She didn’t see the side of him that constantly worried I’d leave at the slightest discomfort.
“To the knights, Hesia seems fearless, I guess.”
“It’s not that he doesn’t feel fear. He simply had nothing to lose, so there was nothing to be afraid of. But… these days, he does seem a bit more scared. You might not like me putting it this way, but… Sir Vivisian, he finally has something he can lose now, doesn’t he?”
Miranda shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I stared at her for a moment before cutting down an approaching heretic.
This time, they were close enough that I had to take a couple of steps back to avoid their bodily fluids.
As I stared at the green liquid splattered near my shoes, Miranda’s voice chimed again.
“By the way, Sir Vivisian, forgive me for asking, but… may I ask your age?”
“It’s a bit complicated. Technically, I’m around thirty-one. But due to some… personal circumstances, about eight years don’t really count. So, you could say I’m stuck somewhere around twenty-three or twenty-four.”
I tilted my head, wrist half-raised, unsure why she was asking.
“It’s just… you seem young. Your face, your voice, how you talk — you know that feeling? Like kids who had to grow up way too fast. Oh, was that too blunt? I tend to be straightforward… Sorry if that offended you.”
She didn’t seem to mean any harm, so I couldn’t bring myself to scold her.
Being called “childlike” — that was a first for me.
I blinked, then chuckled belatedly.
“That’s… the first time anyone’s ever told me that.”
At my muttered words, Miranda sang softly, saying it’s okay to live a little more comfortably.
I watched her quietly and just smiled it off.
The people of this country… they were all too kind to me.
Sometimes… scarily so.
* * *
