[Life in the wilderness really is just that—life.
Everything is for the sake of staying alive.] [The first time you encountered bandits, having never killed anyone before, you still held back as though you were sparring with another knight.] [Młynar told you that these people weren’t worthy of your sympathy.
Because if you showed them mercy, there might be no one left to show sympathy to the people they killed.] [For the first time, you killed someone.
A living, breathing person who, only one second earlier, had been lying on the ground begging you for mercy.] [You saw the wilderness, and the wilderness warmly welcomed Her child into Her embrace.] [A few months later, you could already be considered an experienced bounty hunter.] [You witnessed countless tragedies across this wilderness.
With your own hands, you erased many of those tragedies and saved one future after another.] [Your compassion, along with a knightly spirit almost identical to Młynar’s, gave you your first real sense of purpose.] [Though compared to Młynar, with how smooth and adaptable you were, perhaps it would be more accurate to call you a Toland with a stronger sense of justice.] [At the same time, you also learned that Młynar had actually stopped being a wandering knight long ago and was now an employee of the Adeptus Sprawiedliwi Kazimierz.] [Of course, the Grand Knight of the Adeptus turned a blind eye to Młynar’s circumstances, which was why he could continue traveling into the wilderness.] [Aside from the beginning, you rarely saw Młynar.
As the current pillar of House Nearl, Młynar had no choice but to start showing up for his job at the Adeptus.] [Whenever he returned to the wilderness, it was usually because he’d found some faint clue about his brother and sister-in-law’s whereabouts.
Yet every search ultimately ended in failure.] [The task of purchasing supplies for the camp naturally fell to you, the one who lived in the Grand Knight Territory.
Not that you minded contributing to the camp.] [You also met the members of the organization founded by Darksteel and the others.
Most of these young men and women of the Armorless Union had once received help from Młynar’s group and had voluntarily joined the organization afterward.] [They called you the “fourth Darksteel,” but you refused to accept the title.
So instead, with their ranks short-handed, they pushed you into the vacant position of “Platinum.”] [You became the first Platinum.] [Even if only in an honorary capacity.] [Margaret kept her promise.
She wrote to you almost every single day, practically treating you like a secret diary she could talk to, sharing every little detail of her daily life.] [Looking at the enormous pile of letters accumulating at home, some of the envelopes even had little doodles drawn by Margaret herself.
When it came to abstract art, she truly was her mother’s daughter.] [In return, every time you came back from the wilderness, you would write Margaret a letter telling her about your own life out there.] [The price of doing so was that Margaret really did start sending you one letter every single day.] [Another thing that surprised you was that Zofia began learning swordsmanship.] [She had finally had enough of so-called “aristocratic education” and decided that, like you and Margaret, she would pursue her own dream of becoming a knight.] [Her choice of weapon, however, was rather unusual.
Zofia chose a whipblade, giving both Kirill and old Henry quite the headache.] [A whipblade…
now that was a specialized skill.
Even in the wilderness, that bizarre museum of every strange martial art imaginable, you’d only seen a handful of people use such a weapon.] [Fortunately, Kirill had his ways and managed to find Zofia a teacher—”Bald Marcin.”] [You went to meet Mr.
Marcin yourself.
After exchanging a few moves with him, you acknowledged the old gentleman’s skill and finally put your worries to rest.] [So many things happened within just a few short months that it was almost dizzying.] [It felt as though a storm was brewing.] [You were right.] Clarus rode the three-wheeled motorcycle, glancing at Młynar as he silently sat in the sidecar and fastened his helmet.
“Uncle…
have you really made up your mind?” All the sharpness Młynar once possessed had disappeared.
He looked like a broken sword.
He closed his eyes, burying the pain deep within them where no one else could see.
“…Let’s go.” Clarus sighed softly.
He stopped trying to persuade him and started the motorcycle, driving away from the Nearl estate.
The neon lights of the Grand Knight Territory washed over Młynar’s body like brilliant ribbons of every imaginable color.
Beautiful as they were, wrapped around this once-free Pegasus, they looked more like restraints.
The motorcycle kicked up a trail of dust.
“Hey!
Clarus!” Oclier was underneath a trailer doing his usual inspection when he heard the motorcycle approaching.
He crawled out from beneath it.
“And Mr.
Młynar too?
Haven’t seen you in ages!” “…Mm.” Młynar climbed off the motorcycle and gave him a nod.
Clarus tossed two candies up and down in one hand before throwing them toward Oclier, who caught them easily.
Clarus lifted his chin.
“Uncle Oclier, those are for little Cleland.
Do you know where Mr.
Darksteel and Mr.
Toland are?” “You came back at just the right time.” Oclier laughed heartily.
“Mr.
Toland only got back not long ago.
Sounds like he went to discuss something with Mr.
Darksteel.
They’re in the big tent.” “Mm.
Thanks.
Say hi to little Cleland for me.” Clarus waved.
He and Młynar walked together into the large tent at the center of the camp.
“Hey, Clarus!
Your big brother just landed another juicy job.
How about coming along?” Toland recognized the footsteps and shouted without even turning around.
But when no answer came, he finally looked back.
Only then did he notice Młynar standing there too, while Clarus had already quietly moved off to one side.
“Oh?
What brings you back to camp today?” Toland looked surprised.
“Pretty sure today’s a workday in the Grand Knight Territory.
Skipping work?” Młynar looked at Toland.
Then at Darksteel, who had raised his head and was staring at him in confusion.
His lips moved several times, but the words simply wouldn’t come out.
“…What’s wrong?” Both Toland and Darksteel realized something wasn’t right.
Seeing Młynar, normally so decisive, hesitate like this, Clarus didn’t try to give him a push.
Something like this was better said by Młynar himself.
“Spit it out.” Darksteel snorted.
“What could possibly make you hesitate this much?” “We haven’t missed a single scrap of information about your brother and sister-in-law.
Don’t think you can use that as an excuse to lecture me again.” “No…” Młynar took a deep breath.
“This is about me.” “I’m sorry.” “I probably won’t be able to come back to the camp anymore.” “Huh?” Not just Darksteel—even Toland froze.
Toland stared at him in disbelief.
“What does that mean?
Did you commit some crime and now they’re dragging you off to prison?” “…I’ve resigned from the Adeptus.” Młynar paused.
“And joined the General Chamber of Commerce.” Toland stood there blankly.
Darksteel stared at him, dumbfounded, the pen slipping from his fingers and falling onto the table.
“Wait—what?!
What the hell are you thinking?!” Toland’s eyes widened.
“Did you forget what those bastards at the General Chamber of Commerce have done?!” “You’re going to work for those corporate lapdogs?!
Młynar, you’ve got to be fucking joking!” Młynar lowered the proud head he had once held so high.
“Father’s condition has started getting worse…” “What?
So what?!” Toland stared at him.
“Old Mr.
Nearl’s getting sicker.
What does that have to do with you going to work in that den of thieves?!” “You don’t understand!” Młynar’s voice suddenly rose.
“Father is sick…
Margaret still hasn’t grown enough to shoulder the family, and Maria is still just a child!” “Right now, I’m the only person left who can hold House Nearl up!” For the first time, Clarus saw red in Młynar’s eyes.
“It’s been too long.” “That bastard brother of mine walked away without looking back and didn’t leave a single piece of news behind!” “I’ve been looking for them for too long!” “The salary from the General Chamber of Commerce…
and what they’ve promised me…” Młynar’s voice trembled.
“At the very least, I can keep the family standing until Margaret grows into someone who can truly carry it.” “You’re doing it for fucking money!” Darksteel suddenly snapped the pen in his hand in two and roared.
“You’re going to work for those parasites who ruin people’s lives just for fucking money!” “I have to.” Młynar’s lips were trembling.
“Please forgive me.” Darksteel kicked the table over.
Then he drove his fist straight into Młynar’s face.
Młynar raised both arms to protect his head, retreating again and again as he avoided the blows.
Toland didn’t join the fight.
Instead, he staggered backward and dropped into a chair.
With trembling hands, he lit a cigarette—a form of hard currency in the wilderness.
“Młynar!
What the fuck do you think we are?!” Darksteel roared as he attacked.
“The Armorless Union has spent all these years helping you search for your brother and sister-in-law, and now you think you can throw all of us away with a single fucking sentence?!” “Pah!” “So only the Nearls count as your family, huh?!” “Is that it?!” “Are pieces of shit like us from the wilderness just garbage you can use whenever you need us and throw away when you’re done?!” “IS THAT IT, MŁYNAR?!” “YOU FUCKING TELL ME!” Darksteel kicked Młynar squarely in the chest.
Młynar crashed onto his back.
Darksteel immediately climbed on top of him and started swinging his fists.
Toland finished his cigarette.
He looked blankly at Clarus.
Clarus couldn’t make out what was hiding in his eyes.
“Let me tell you something right now, Młynar!” Darksteel had almost completely lost control of himself.
He looked down at Młynar beneath him with a twisted grin.
“Hahahaha…” “A few of the young kids from the Armorless Union got caught by some Leithanians a while back.” “You’re going to hell.
You definitely are!” “When you get there, explain it to them yourself!” “I’ll go to hell…” Młynar’s emotions finally shattered.
“I’ll go to hell…” He muttered the words over and over.
“Please…
let me go to hell.
Just let it be me who goes to hell…” “Wrong.” Darksteel spat on Młynar and stood up.
“You don’t fucking deserve to meet those people who admired you.” “Those people who died because of you.” “Get out.” “You’re not welcome here anymore.” Clarus supported the trembling Młynar as they walked out of the tent.
And with that, they left behind Młynar’s youth.
“My pride was shattered to pieces that day, and every day since, I have yearned for that radiant past.” “I lowered my head and walked into the abyss of life.”