Clarus set down his things and sat on the training grounds, quietly putting on his protective gear.
Even after he had finished fastening everything into place, the figure who had trained beside him for the past ten years was still nowhere to be seen.
“Seriously…” Clarus stood before old Henry, who looked like he had something to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to say it.
Clarus lowered his head slightly.
“I was going to apologize to her.” “Kid…
sigh.” Henry let out a long breath.
“Margaret already left for the border.
She said she was the one in the wrong and that she’d write to you.” “Messengers are expensive.
She’s wasting money again.” Clarus frowned.
Henry almost laughed from sheer frustration.
“You brat, is money really what you should be worried about right now?
And since when did you need to worry about the Nearl family’s finances?” “Then what am I supposed to do?
Return her feelings?” Clarus shot back.
“Tell her I like her too, then pass this sin down to another generation the same way Mother gave it to me?” Smack!
Henry’s hand moved like lightning.
The old man, usually so gentle with him, slapped Clarus across the face.
His voice rose in genuine fury.
“You have no right to talk about your mother like that!
She gave birth to you!
Otherwise, do you think you’d even be standing here talking to me right now?!” “I’m sorry.” A loose lock of hair fell over Clarus’s forehead as he lowered his eyes.
For the first time…
he spoke the thought he had buried deepest inside himself.
“I’m sorry…
for causing all of you so much trouble.” “I…
shouldn’t have existed in the first place.” Smack!
Henry slapped him again, even harder.
“How could you think something like that?!
All these years, none of us ever gave up on you, and now you’re telling me you want to give up on yourself?!” “Why do you think everyone has treated you so well all these years?!” Henry suddenly yanked up his shirt, revealing a terrifying scar running across his abdomen.
“In that battle, I took a blade for Kirill with my own body!
I saved his life!
Do you understand?!
I saved his life!” “And I used that debt—his debt for his life—to ask him to help you!
To give you a chance to live!” “Do you know how many things I could’ve asked for with a favor like that?!
One word from me and Kirill and Russell could’ve buried me in medals and rewards!” “But I used it on you!” “I traded that favor for your life!” “And now you’re telling me you don’t want to live?!” “He’s the only one who could do it!
In all of Kazimierz, Kirill is the only person with enough influence to let you live with some dignity!” Tears streamed down the deep wrinkles of Henry’s face.
“Look at me…
Look at me, Clarus!” Henry’s voice thundered across the training grounds.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM?!
WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!” Smack!
Another heavy slap landed across Clarus’s face.
“If you ever say something like that again…
if you ever think something like that again, I…
I…” “I’m sorry, Grandpa.” Clarus covered his face.
At last, tears began to fall.
“…Go.” Henry seemed to lose all his strength at once.
He sat heavily in a nearby chair and waved his hand.
“Go talk to Kirill…” “Your grandpa wasn’t capable of much in this life.
This is all I could do for you…” Clarus stopped at the entrance and looked back.
Old Henry sat blankly in his chair, staring at the ground.
Clarus turned away and walked into the Nearl residence.
…
“Come, little Clarus.” Kirill sat in an old rocking chair and closed the book resting on his knees.
“Why don’t you brew us some tea first?
Talking without tea always feels like something’s missing.” Kirill smiled gently.
“Whether it’s the taste in your mouth…
or the taste of life.” Before long, two steaming cups of tea, each filled seven-tenths of the way, rested on the small round table.
“Come on.
Sit.” Kirill removed his reading glasses.
Clarus quietly sat beside him, the two of them facing the balcony.
“Knowing your grandfather, I doubt he’s ever told you much about his past.” Kirill took a small sip of tea and let out a satisfied breath.
“Grandpa only told me that the two of you were comrades.” Clarus slowly relaxed, leaning back against his chair.
“That sounds about right.” Kirill chuckled, then coughed twice.
“Your grandfather has always been reckless.
On the battlefield, when dealing with problems…
doesn’t matter.
He charges first and thinks later.” “That battle where I led people out to save your grandfather and the others…
do you know how he got trapped in the first place?” “It’s already such a famous story.
I didn’t think I’d get to hear a new version of it today.” Clarus smiled.
“Heh.
Still as smooth with your words as ever.” Kirill laughed.
“Your grandfather went out there to save people.” “He became a second front all by himself.” “At the time, Ursus had already reached the city, while the elite Silverlance Pegasi were still trapped inside.” “More than half of the ordinary knights outside had already been beaten back.
The rout had started long before that.” “And even then, those bastards from the Knights’ Association were still fighting each other over power.
‘You send more troops first, then I’ll send mine.'” “I remember it clearly.
A recording even leaked afterward.” Kirill’s voice turned mocking as he repeated what had been said.
“‘Those are my soldiers!
If none of you are sending your men, why the hell should I send mine?'” “‘What value is there in saving those useless bastards outside?!
I’m not going.
Are you?'” “‘Nobody needs to go.
Just defend the city.
Ursus can’t take it, and eventually they’ll leave on their own.'” “So the common people just had to suffer a little.” Clarus gave a cold, mocking smile.
Kirill glanced at him, seemingly satisfied by the disgust in his expression.
“Still, they sent out a token force in the end.
A few second-rate troops, just enough to make a show of rescuing some refugees.” “And even that was enough for the people they saved to thank them like saints.” “The ones who weren’t grateful had already lost the chance to say anything about it.” Kirill chuckled coldly.
“While everyone else was preparing to defend the city, one force suddenly charged out through the gates.” “The knight at the front carried a lance.” “And there was a man’s head stuck on the tip of it.” Kirill’s gaze seemed to drift back into the past.
“Your grandfather was shouting at the top of his lungs.” “‘Fuck all of you!
We’re all fucking Kazimierzians!
Why should other Kazimierzians be left outside to die for nothing?!'” “And with that, he pulled together a huge group of people and charged straight out.” “The entire city erupted into chaos.” “Countless mansions caught fire.
Countless knights put their armor back on.
Countless people, filled with nothing but hot blood and anger, started shouting old slogans again as they marched toward what could very well have been their deaths.” Kirill looked toward the distant sky, his expression complicated.
Then he turned back toward Clarus, who had been listening in silence.
“Little Clarus, remember this.” “Your grandfather truly was a great man.” “Without him, I might never have found the courage to go against the will of so many people and march out to battle.” “He’s my grandfather.” Clarus smiled, pride entering his voice.
“That alone is enough to make him great in my eyes.
Enough for me to be proud of him.” “You really are a strange child.” Kirill studied him for a moment before continuing.
“Unfortunately, while reckless courage fueled by righteous anger can sometimes accomplish miracles…
your grandfather’s understanding of tactics was absolutely terrible.” “He charged out with all those people and led the entire force straight into an encirclement.” “That Hippogryph commander from Ursus really was something.
Such a ferocious charge still couldn’t break their formation.
Instead, he turned things around and surrounded your grandfather’s force.” “What happened afterward is the part every Kazimierzian already knows.” “So this is the other version of the story.” Clarus drank the last of his tea and smiled.
“But yeah…
after hearing all that, I think there’s only one thing I can say.” “My grandpa was fucking awesome.” Kirill laughed.
“Afterward, the unrest caused by your grandfather’s charge led to more than half of the Knights’ Association being purged.” “As for the situation today…
you’ll have to watch and judge it for yourself, child.
Things are much deeper than they look.” Kirill took another sip of tea and narrowed his eyes.
“We should probably thank that uprising.
Otherwise, Russell never would’ve been able to rise to power so easily.” “But the remnants who survived the purge blamed everything on your grandfather and put on a rather ridiculous little performance.” His expression darkened.
“‘A drunken knight captain assaulted one of his subordinate knights.
Although he was at fault, he was then unjustly killed by an equally drunk national hero’?” “…Bastards.” Kirill’s emotions surged, sending him into another coughing fit.
Clarus hurriedly refilled his cup.
After drinking some tea, Kirill gradually calmed down again.
“Fortunately, your grandfather was still a national hero, and there were far too many suspicious details surrounding the case.
In the end, the National Council stripped him of his status as a knight and expelled him from the military.” “Your father has done well for himself.
He’s now a spokesman for the General Chamber of Commerce…
but judging by the kind of man he is, I doubt he’s ever come into contact with the truly filthy things the Chamber gets involved in.” Kirill looked directly at Clarus.
“Your grandfather’s life may have left the stage at its peak, but at least it was spectacular while it lasted.” “Your father’s life is still being written, and the road ahead of him remains bright.” “So what about you, child?” Clarus answered plainly.
“I don’t know, Grandpa Kirill.” “I was born guilty.
I was born carrying a disease that marks me with original sin.” “I lost my mother.
I’ve lost many things.” “There are countless roads a person can walk in this world, but because of this original sin, every one of those roads seems closed to me.” “I can’t see my future.” “I don’t know why I even exist.” Kirill smiled.
“Horses are born to run.” “But every little foal eventually starts wondering what it’s running for.” “Margaret runs toward her dream of knighthood.” “Zofia runs for the person…
or perhaps people…
she admires.” “I’ve spoken with both of them.
The determination in their hearts is strong enough to surprise even an old man like me.” “They’re both walking their own paths.” Kirill reached out and took Clarus’s hand.
His palm was rough and calloused, yet warm.
“I have one disappointing child who’s told me more than once that he’s found his path.” “But I know better.” “He’s still lost.” “Just like you.” Kirill turned his gentle gaze toward the doorway.
“Młynar.” “Take him out into the wilderness.” “Maybe he’ll find his answer there.” Młynar was leaning against the doorframe.
He closed his eyes.
“All right.”