Chapter 42
Kilavan fon Zervan.
The man who became the direct line's adopted son during Calias's absence. He had encountered him once before in the forest, but whether then or now, he was a man who thoroughly displeased him.
At least, that was how Calias felt.
Because of that.
The tip of his sword naturally pointed toward Kilavan. He hadn't expected the bastard to appear while he was distracted, but it worked out well.
Elberton seemed to want to observe, wearing only a peculiar smile.
"Kilavan. While we were rolling around on the battlefield, what did you do?"
I didn't even attach his surname.
This wasn't due to his trait.
It just came out naturally.
It wasn't a compulsion.
It was likely Calias's own will.
He was.
Obstinate and a scoundrel, he was.
Still, a man of Zervan, and someone who held the pride of being a direct descendant.
That was why he couldn't look kindly upon Kilavan.
This place was not a forest, but the center of Zervan.
Because it was Jaibarshui, even more so.
Calias's will manifested itself.
"What did you do."
Kilavan clamped his mouth shut.
But that wasn't silence out of guilt.
Silence produces many effects.
But most are negative.
Kilavan produced negativity through his silence.
A grim face and tightly clenched fists.
He was trembling.
It wasn't fear.
It was anger.
"I too am filled with indignation!"
At the scream-like shout, the eyes of the knights, which had been half-closed, snapped open.
"Because I know it is my duty to stand at the forefront to protect the North more than anyone! That is why I am even more indignant!"
Responding to the pursuit of guilt with anger had a greater effect than expected.
Because they knew his usual conduct.
The knights unconsciously understood.
"It's not my place to speak, having just arrived, but there were unavoidable circumstances. I was trying to save the knights trapped in the White Forest, which delayed me. However, in the wars to come, I will throw away my life, so I myself will be worthy of the North and Zervan. Therefore, please refrain from unnecessary arguments and questioning."
"Hah."
What was the saying for times like this?
"The one who farted is the one getting mad."
At Calias's sarcastic words, Kilavan glared without a word.
"Calias. I know well what kind of military exploits you have achieved, but still, the current direct descendant of the Zervan family is me."
Don't be so arrogant.
That was what he was saying.
"You say you couldn't step forward due to unavoidable circumstances, yet you heard of my exploits well. Did you really just hear them? Or did you see them yourself while trembling like a coward?"
Shring!
Drawing the sword from his waist, Kilavan pointed it at Calias.
"I cannot endure any more insults."
"What will you do if you can't endure it? Going to throw down a glove?"
Throwing down a glove meant requesting a duel.
Calias had nothing to fear.
He was full of confidence in his skills and currently on the rise. He might get sick of it during the war, but if it were Kilavan, it was exactly what he wanted.
Bernard had once mentioned in passing. That Elberton suspected Kilavan.
Guessing from that, the bastard was likely the culprit behind this incident.
There was no good in keeping him alive.
'A traitor is bound to repeat the same actions.'
Those who gnaw at the North, at the Karpe Kingdom, must be rooted out.
Only then could the North, could Karpe.
Could I survive.
When everyone fell silent.
Kilavan looked at Calias with a fierce gaze, then turned his back.
"Much blood has already been spilled. There's no need for us to shed blood among ourselves."
"Are you running away?"
"If my blood, and Zervan's blood, must flow. It should be on the battlefield, not here and now. Calias."
Tsk. Calias clicked his tongue and sheathed his sword.
"As expected of a noble, even words of fear sound dignified. Right?"
At Brans's mockery, Kilavan's footsteps momentarily halted, but soon began moving again.
Brans was utterly useless, but just for now, a smirk formed on Calias's lips.
* * *
Scrape, scrape.
"Kyah, this blade is truly amazing. The reddish tint is ominous yet profound, as if it has soaked in blood."
Beside Calias, who sat cross-legged on a chair, Brans sat on the ground, sharpening the blade with a whetstone.
Predator Sword - Roas.
And Lucen, received from Esther.
Perhaps feeling anxious having nothing to do as the ceasefire dragged on, he had somehow gotten a good whetstone and had been like that since morning.
"It's done! My lord, look at this. I've sharpened it spectacularly!"
"Hmm."
The Predator Sword was a fellow whose blade naturally sharpened when it soaked in blood. There was no need to use a whetstone on it, but....
"Not bad."
"Right?"
As it ascended to the rank of a Spirit Sword this time, the blade that was sharply jagged like a saw had changed to resemble a standard sword.
A blade wreathed in a red aura, it became an impressive sword with a wave pattern like a beast's fangs.
It seemed to evoke the sharp fangs of a growling beast.
A pattern that suited the Predator Sword quite well.
"You did well."
"It's nothing! Hehehe!"
His constant attempts to prove his usefulness made him quite an amusing fellow.
It was also fascinating how he had various talents outside of swordsmanship.
"But, my lord."
"What is it."
"Don't you have no need for this sword?"
"Why do you ask?"
Brans said, pointing toward Lucen.
Since the Predator Sword existed, Lucen, which was of a lower grade, wasn't a necessary sword.
He wore it at his waist as a spare, but with the Predator Sword becoming a Spirit Sword.
There was no occasion to draw it.
During the war, he had been so busy running around and swinging his sword that he had often thrown it to Brans to fight with. Brans must have known that too, which was why he brought it up.
"Do you want it?"
He didn't want to give it to Brans, though.
Even if he didn't use it, it was a very meaningful sword to him.
"No. I have this. Besides, I'm not very good at handling long swords."
"Then why."
"...It's about Miss Emily."
Emily?
Why would Emily's name come up here?
"I heard her muttering that the sword she's using now has become too light."
"Is that so."
Well. She was a girl walking her own path, her blocked holy bloodline opened, manipulating divine power with genius-like brilliance.
Naturally, her physical abilities had increased exponentially, so the thrusting sword she originally used wouldn't satisfy her at all.
"A part I hadn't thought of."
Brans was really quick to catch on.
Even to the parts I couldn't pay attention to.
Naturally, that was something a father should take care of.
The word 'father' was still awkward, and he didn't think of her as a daughter yet, though.
Anyway, he was a fellow with quick wits.
'If only he had talent in swordsmanship, he would have been more useful.'
That part was truly regrettable.
His body had innate bone structure and muscles, granting him inexhaustible stamina and strength, but he had no talent for the sword....
It wasn't that he hadn't tried teaching him.
Since that day, whenever he had some free time, he had handed him a sword and tried to train him.
But the fellow's swordsmanship hadn't improved.
'No. It doesn't have to be the sword.'
If he turned his eyes toward martial arts like Cedric, he would become quite useful after learning just a little.
Calias looked at Brans with a strange gaze.
If he sent him to Cedric and asked him to make him useful, he would turn out quite well.
He owed me a debt, so he wouldn't be able to refuse.
"W-why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong...?"
"No."
It was still too early for Cedric to return.
It would take at least a year.
Besides, it wasn't something to think about right now.
Erasing his thoughts about Brans, he drew out Lucen, which he had received from Esther.
Masterpiece Sword - Lucen.
A spare sword. The sword received from Esther.
The proof of having broken her.
The sword used to execute the first technique of the Silver Coin Dispatch Sword, and so on—it had many modifiers.
But now, it was a sword that was rarely used, pushed aside by the Predator Sword.
"Take it."
Swish. He spun the sword smoothly and handed the hilt to Brans without hesitation.
"For you to give it directly...."
So quick to catch on.
He must have already figured out that there was something between Emily and himself.
Well, Brans was also by his side when he first met Emily.
"It's fine. The sword would also want a master who will use it more. Hand it over."
Giving it directly was a bit...
It was still very awkward.
"Anyway, what about Kilavan?"
"Ah, I don't know the details either, but anyway, he said he would stand at the forefront and command the next battlefield... yapping about honor and all that."
"Well, so it goes."
From Elberton's position, there wouldn't be a particular excuse to drive him out, since he was taken in as an adopted son and designated as the next head.
Because the only sin the bastard committed was not joining the battlefield quickly.
'You can't even call that a sin.'
The scoundrel trait had activated, making him speak as if interrogating the guy, but that was it.
Since nothing was exposed on the surface, it was only natural that he would hold the command.
Perhaps Elberton was just waiting for me to do something.
'His attitude of testing me is quite obvious.'
But it was a perfectly natural attitude.
Unlike before.
Even among the same scoundrels, the difference between a useful one and a useless one was clear.
"Brans."
"Yes!"
"Who did you say was injured last time?"
"Ah, you mean Allen?"
He said he injured his eye, didn't he?
Unless one reached a certain level of mastery.
If one injured an eye, the sense of distance would never fully adjust.
"Bring him."
"Yes, understood. Then this one will...."
"Give it to Emily."
"Yes! I will follow your order!"
Making such a fuss.
Smirking, he was examining the map of the battlefield spread on the table when footsteps were heard.
"Come in."
The cloth of the temporary tent was lifted.
A boy with slightly dull blonde hair entered.
"I heard you called for me."
"Hmm."
He had a bandage wrapped around one eye.
Perhaps it hadn't healed yet, as the white bandage was stained with blood.
"Is your body alright?"
"I am perfectly fine!"
Even near death, he's a knight, huh.
Though still young, he was a knight.
"Then that's a relief. I have a mission for you."
"Please command me. If it is Lord Calias's order, I will accomplish anything."
Good.
It was for the quest, but the act of saving the knights' lives had been converted into the loyalty they showed him.
A life debt is repaid with a life. That was the way of the Northern knights.
"Do you know Kilavan?"
"Yes."
"That bastard will likely hold the command in this battlefield."
I would probably be sent to the sector he assigned.
He would assign me to a place where I was bound to die, or tell me to stand by where I couldn't be of any use.
Since there were knights who followed me, he might treat us as a unit and assign us an absurd, bizarre mission.
"If he points his sword at me, I will do the same."
"That means...."
"I intend to kill Kilavan."
"!!!"
Regardless of how the quest progressed, killing him was a foregone conclusion.
I had to kill him.
But not now.
"You just need to leak a rumor."
The eldest legitimate son of Zervan.
That Calias wanted to kill the adopted son of the branch family.
"If you do that and he tries to harm you, Lord Calias..."
"Since he holds the command, he might try to drive me into a death trap."
It would happen with a high probability.
"Then...!"
But I rather welcomed that.
"Not bad. It's better than listening to his orders at every turn."
The scoundrel trait was quiet now, but it could pop out at any time.
That was better instead.
I needed to distance myself from Zervan.
"...I don't know. It's hard to follow your wisdom, Lord Calias."
"If so, you just need to see it with your own eyes."
What I am doing. It will be visible enough even with just one remaining eye.
"What my command will create."
But now was the time to leak the rumor.
Given his personality.
'He will destroy himself on his own.'