CHAPTER 25

In the midst of a restaurant enveloped in silence, Gott looked at Vlad, unsure of what to do.

"Ca-Captain."

At the same time, numerous gazes in the restaurant, filled with various sneers, began to focus on the place where Vlad was seated.

Everyone was anticipating something.

"······."

A yellow lump emerged above the soup Vlad was eating.

It was someone's saliva.

"Sorry about this. I thought this place was a trash can because it smells like garbage."

"Hahaha!"

There were three squires standing behind Vlad, smiling broadly.

'Sooner than I expected.'

Vlad didn't show anger towards the squires.

He just nodded, feeling that this was bound to happen sooner or later.

The Bayezid family is a prestigious family in the North.

Just being in a place like that for a short time was a great experience. The squires here were all decent folks from good households. Although not nobles, they were well-raised young masters. It was only natural for them to behave like this when someone from a back alley entered their gathering.

Vlad decided to endure for now, as he had experienced a similar situation at the camp.

'I'm used to it.'

Scorn, disdain, and ignorance were always familiar to him.

Of course, just because he was used to it didn't mean it didn't hurt, but Vlad chose to let it pass for now.

So, he quietly lifted the spoon.

"Captain······."

He scooped up the saliva floating in the soup and scattered it on the floor.

Then he picked up his spoon again and started eating the soup as if nothing had happened.

"······."

"······."

The squires in the restaurant, who had been planning to torment Vlad, were watching with surprise as he calmly responded. However, everyone stopped laughing at Vlad's nonchalant attitude.

It was a strange silence.

"······What's with that guy?"

Among the new recruits who had come in so far, none had behaved like this.

Some get angry, some scared, or some even just laughed it off.

However, the guy who came from the back alley was behaving differently from their expectations.

"······."

In the unintentionally quiet dining room, Vlad thought about what Zayar had said.

"From now on, every action you take is directly linked to Josef's reputation."

Zayar, who knew Vlad's temper well, advised him to be careful and be careful of his actions.

'Since I've received something, I'll have to endure this.'

Vlad was well aware that he had received a golden opportunity.

Therefore, if he could endure it, he intended to quietly overlook it for the sake of Josef's dignity.

'How should I handle this.'

However, as someone from the back alley, he couldn't help the lurking sense of brutality.

So, even though he was calmly sipping the soup, there was something naturally emanating from him.

The blue eyes that made people recognize Vlad even in the wild back alleys.

Those eyes were burning with a fierce intensity.

"Arrogant brat."

When things did not go as he had intended, the squire who had been arguing approached Vlad, growling.

"See you later. I'll make the hazing ceremony spectacular for you..."

"What's your name?"

The plan was to intimidate Vlad and instill fear, but Vlad was reacting completely differently from Sobanin's intentions.

"...What?"

Vlad's head turns slowly, accompanied by a chilling voice.

"What's your name?"

Facing the blazing blue eyes, Sobanin felt as if his surroundings were turning dark.

There was a gaze emitting even more intimidation than the knights he was serving.

"S-Sobanin."

Without realizing it, Sobanin stuttered.

That was the kind of pressure it was.

"Sobanin."

Vlad quietly muttered Sobanin's name as he chewed and swallowed the soup.

A barking dog doesn't bite.

One who intends to kill doesn't get angry.

"I'll remember."

Simply glaring quietly.

Vlad had already finished eating and stood up holding an empty plate.

"Looking forward to the hazing ceremony."

As Sobanin heard Vlad's voice passing by, he realized something was wrong.

"Hey, do you know where you are? A filthy orphan from the back alleys acting like he owns the place."

Although he spat out sharp words to protect his wounded pride until the end, Vlad just returned the plate quietly and left the restaurant without saying anything.

Even though Gott followed Vlad, cautiously observing, the restaurant was left in a strange silence.

※※※※

"Captain, are you okay?"

"I feel sick."

"What are you going to do now? According to the servants, that guy Sobanin seems to be a captain among the squires."

"That guy is the captain?"

In response to Vlad's question, Gott vigorously nodded.

"I see."

"Be careful."

Squires and servants.

The path where the squires and servants had to part ways. Vlad gestured to Gott once and walked toward his destination.

"He is that guy."

Even in the crowded restaurant surrounded by dozens of people, Vlad remained calm as if he were eating at his own home.

"Who splitted even ghost-like beings."

Perhaps it was a natural reaction.

Since he was a guy who cut down fearful beings that were difficult to even put his eyes on, the threats to his peers were such a big deal.

"That's why people should play in big places."

As Vlad's figure disappeared at the end of the corridor in the distance, Gott also changed his direction.

There was no need to worry.

That guy is not someone who would stop in a place like this.

After parting ways with Gott, Vlad headed to the training ground where Zayar would be according to the scheduled events.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes."

"Then draw your sword."

After lunch, there was a short sparring session with Zayar.

It wasn't common for a knight to engage in daily sparring with his squire unless the squire was from a prestigious family or the parents generously provided money.

"But I have one question."

"Go ahead."

Vlad wiped his nose and opened his mouth.

"What if I get surrounded by several people? What should I do?"

"Run away."

"What if I can't run away?"

"The question is to what extent the other party is armed?"

In response to Zayar's question, Vlad looked around the training hall and said,

"Well, let's say they have wooden swords? And there's a guy with a small shield mixed in."

"....Is that so?"

As Vlad answered, Zayar's eyes narrowed as if he sensed something.

"Well, your swordsmanship isn't exactly suitable for a group fight."

"Really?"

Vlad's eyes widened as he heard his swordsmanship evaluation for the first time.

Looking at Vlad's reaction, Zayar drew a line on the floor with a wooden sword and replied with a grumble.

"Did you learn without even knowing what swordsmanship your teacher uses?"

'······The person teaching me doesn't even know who he is.'

Vlad, who grumbled internally for a moment, answered.

"I don't know. Honestly, if someone teaches me something, I just have to be thankful and learn."

"I guess so."

Zayar drew a long cross-shaped line on the floor and swung his wooden sword to shake off the sand.

"Your teacher is probably a Duelist. Your swordsmanship is specialized for short-range combat rather than group battles."

[Oh!]

The excited voice that unexpectedly got clues about himself exclaimed with excitement.

[Ask more!]

"A Duelist?"

Wondering why Vlad seemed so excited, Zayar decided to provide more explanation.

"Not all knights are the same. There are household knights like me, who are bound to a noble family, or there are knight-errants who only earn the title of knight and wander around. Duelists can be considered a type of knight-errant."

Zayar looked at Vlad and nodded.

"They are usually knights who participate as representatives in honor duels. Want to know more?"

"Then who are some famous Duelists? Or maybe someone who was famous in the past but is not well-known now?"

Seeing Vlad's sparkling eyes, Zayar thought he should stop here.

The boys' curiosity was boundless, but today's time was limited.

"You learn one thing a day. Do you want to hear about famous Duelists, or should I teach you the basics of group combat?"

[Famous Duelists!]

"Basics of group combat."

Although the voice pleaded for another consideration, for Vlad, dealing with the impending situation was more crucial.

"Good. Come in."

Following Zayar's gesture, Vlad stood at the center of the cross.

"The basics of group combat lie in angles. Right now, you're exposed in all four directions—north, south, east, and west. In this situation, you have to defend against attacks from at least four people."

"What do I do then?"

"You need to use the terrain."

Zayar grabbed Vlad's shoulder and turned him towards one end of the cross.

"If you defend one direction, there are only three remaining angles, right? That way, you've blocked one."

"It's quite obvious. What if there's no place left to defend?"

"You'd be fighting in a very harsh situation. Try to fight in the most advantageous place if possible."

"And if there really isn't such a place?"

To Vlad's persistent question, Zayar shrugged and replied, "Then you create obstacles."

"With what?"

In response to Vlad's question, Xayar said with a grin. 

"With the opponent's bodies."

The smile that Zayar was making had a certain weight to it.

"A human corpse can be quite an effective obstacle. It's heavy, takes up space, and after some time passes from death, it becomes solid."

Vlad nodded his head and his eyes lit up at Zayar's practical teachings.

"As I mentioned, the basics are not giving angles and the second important thing is timing. The essence is preventing opponents from entering all at once."

Swoosh-

Saying that, Zayar moved quietly on the cross.

"Huh?"

Vlad, watching Zayar's movements, was momentarily bewildered.

It seemed like he would move to the right, but when Vlad opened his eyes, Zayar was standing on the left.

It was an advanced technique that misled the opponent with shoulder movements, eye contact, and foot positioning.

"To create that, you need to anticipate the opponent's movements."

[It's about controlling the opponent with your movements.]

Vlad nodded after listening to Zayar's explanation and the voice's commentary.

"Are you saying I should anticipate the opponent's movements with my own?"

"······I don't need to say it twice."

Zayar saw that Vlad understood what he was saying even without detailed explanation, and thought that he was also a smart guy.

In reality, the voice within his soul was providing detailed explanations.

"To achieve that, you must move incessantly."

"Move?"

"All swordsmanship starts from footwork. Today, we'll learn footwork for group combat as you requested."

Zayar grinned at the boy, whose eyes were shining with determination.

Within the boy's gaze, there was passion and even more, a sense of urgency.

There was a hungry beast within him, eager to learn.

"Try to follow."

The training that started after lunch continued until dusk.

He had potential.

He had reasons to learn.

And he had two teachers.

Under the red twilight, the boy danced.

"Strike, damn it."

"······."

"If you're going to do it half-heartedly, just run away. I won't say anything about that."

"······Isn't it natural not to follow perfectly when I just learned it today?"

Although the dance was painfully embarrassing to watch. 

Although he was being beaten, Vlad was genuinely smiling for the first time in a long while.

Although he was rough, Zayar was considerate of him, and Josef trusted him.

Such emotions were new to him since that night. The night he shed tears atop a pile of trash.

Suddenly, Vlad looked at the red sun going over the horizon and thought of the people in Shoara.

He missed them.

※※※※

"What's with the mess in front of this shop?"

A back alley in the city at dusk.

There was a mercenary man coming into the only blacksmith shop there.

"Who's there?"

"Just asking about something, old man."

Most of the people who visited the old blacksmith were fixed. 

Those who wanted really nice items would go to the famous blacksmith shop in Shoara, but in the end, people who didn't have much money and were looking for something that could be used roughly were bound to come here.

Of course, the blond boy who stared at the sword was the only exception.

"You don't seem like someone who should be coming here."

"Oh, right. I didn't come here to buy anything."

However, the mercenary in front of the old man seemed to have some skill. The weapons, armor he carried, and the various items he had arranged indicated that he was an experienced mercenary.

"This is my first time in the back alleys of Shoara. Are there no other blacksmiths except here?"

"That's right."

"And do you make swords here?"

"······Not anymore."

The mercenary nodded as if he had expected that response from the elderly blacksmith.

A humble and small forge, seemingly unremarkable tools, and most importantly, an old man who looked like he had rotted away in the back alleys for a lifetime.

The mercenary glanced around the shop, and the old blacksmith seemed to straighten up a bit under his scrutinizing gaze.

"What in the world are you asking for?"

"I want to make a sword."

"Just pick any random blacksmith; why bother coming to a place like this to find a sword?"

The old man clicked his tongue, and the mercenary, finding the situation amusing, laughed and replied, "I wanted to make a somewhat special sword."

"What kind of special sword?"

Without turning around, the old man continued to stoke the fire in the forge.

"Well, I want to make a sword that can slay ghosts."

"Ghosts?"

The well-dressed man's unexpected statement made the old man's eyebrows twitch.

"If it's ghosts, you should go to the church instead of here."

"No, no, sir. Do you happen to know someone named Vlad of Shoara? I heard he's from here."

"Vlad?"

When the familiar name came from the unfamiliar man, the old man, who had been tossing coal into the forge, dropped it and looked up.

"Is there something about him? Perhaps he passed away?"

"It seems you do know! So, is he really from here?"

Now that they finally understood each other, the mercenary burst into laughter.

"When I asked the friend, he said he got it done at a blacksmith shop in the back alley of Shoara."

"What?"

He's alive.

The old man felt truly relieved. However, the subsequent words from the mercenary were simply unbelievable.

"That young lad apparently cut a ghost with a sword."

"A ghost?"

"That's right. She was a cursed woman, but when the light shone from the sword, she was split in half."

The mercenary man who entered the old blacksmith shop was one of the mercenaries who barely escaped with their lives from the subjugation team.

At the risk of death, a flash of white light shined at that moment.

For the mercenary, the light that flashed in the dense mist was more radiant than anything he had ever seen.

"There's no way that young lad used an aura. So, I thought the sword would be special. He really treated the sword with utmost care."

"..."

The mercenary considered the worn-out back alleys of Shoara as a place with a high likelihood.

"So, a sword that can cut down even ghosts. My conclusion is that there must be a mysterious blacksmith here who knows how to make it. Do you happen to know any likely places? If you tell me, I'll show my gratitude."

"Sigh..."

In response to the mercenary's words, the old blacksmith sighed deeply, containing many emotions.

What did that kid do? 

What on earth has he been doing to turn a guy like me into a blacksmith who makes swords that can cut down ghosts?

"Haven't heard anything?"

"There's no way such a person exists."

"Don't say that..."

"Even if you ask, no one will know."

No one would know.

No, they wouldn't believe it.

The boy who fell with the trash that night had created the light to slay ghosts.

The sword he made was imbued with that light.

"No one will know."

"..."

The fact that a boy born where the sun does not rise and a sword created in a pathetic blacksmith shop emitted such a light would not be known.

As the mercenary left, the old man stopped his work, sitting in silence and staring blankly at the front of the shop. Despite the chaotic state of the storefront with countless people passing by, the old man could see it.

The melancholy footsteps created by the boy who used to gaze at the stars.

The appearance of that boy who always lingered around.