novelraw Chapter 165 : Chapter 165
Chapter 165 : Chapter 165
Chapter 165: Pilgrimage (2)
“You are right.”
Gerhard spoke.
The sound of boots imprinting themselves on the corridor floor. Abel and Gerhard were walking side by side. Between scars carved without pattern, Gerhard’s gray eyes tilted toward Abel.
“It is a rare opportunity. Sparring with this old man….”
“You do not look that old.”
“A knight’s lifespan is short. As a lord, I may still be in my prime, but Gerhard von Farenheit the knight retired long ago. I am at an age where I should be quietly commanding from the rear.”
Gerhard observed Abel calmly.
Not from the perspective of a lord, but from that of a knight. In other words, he was gauging Abel’s true strength through pure instinct.
His physique was slender. Yet there was no wavering. His indifferently hardened expression, his movements as well, were excessively firm. Like a blade sealed within its scabbard. Thinking so, Gerhard raised the corners of his mouth.
‘He is no ordinary man.’
Gerhard knew of Abel’s movements.
Even if he did not wish to, it was impossible not to. Leaping from a Floating Island to wipe out an entire fleet, erasing a whole theater by wielding Aura Blade. Holy Knights who had awakened Aura were said to wield power comparable to an army, but even so, Abel’s conduct was peculiar.
As though he were pressed by something unseen.
“There are those who are watching you closely.”
Some even say
that you might be a Sword Saint in disguise.
When Gerhard whispered so,
“It is an honor.”
Abel scratched the back of his neck.
He could not exactly feel wronged. He had been acting in a conspicuous manner. A part of him even wished someone would uncover the truth. Even while considering the Pope’s stance that his decisive strength should remain concealed, Abel found the inconveniences of rank bothersome.
“However, it is likely nothing more than rumor. You are certainly no Sword Saint.”
Gerhard shrugged.
“I, Gerhard von Farenheit, once encountered a Sword Saint in my youth. I never learned her name, but I cannot forget her appearance. She was exceedingly noble….”
Exceedingly noble…, Gerhard dragged out the words, then,
“…a wolf. She snapped at me to address her as a lady.”
“Fascinating.”
Abel avoided Gerhard’s gaze.
He brushed back his hair and continued,
“As you know, I am merely a Holy Knight. I know nothing of Sword Saints. When you say a wolf, do you mean a beast of that sort?”
“Correct. Hard to believe, is it not? A wolf that walked on two legs.”
A smile appeared on Gerhard’s lips.
It was playful, but because his face was covered in scars, it came across as menacing.
“Sword Saints surely transcend the limits of mortals by a vast margin. I have heard that a few years ago, the youngest Sword Saint in history was appointed. Who knows. Perhaps the oldest Sword Saint is merely pretending to be the youngest.”
“…That may well be so.”
Abel placed his palm over his eyes.
To conceal his wavering gaze.
“Therefore, I am certain. You are no Sword Saint.”
“…Of course.”
“No matter how I look at you, you are a young man not yet thirty. A true Sword Saint would never look so neat and proper.”
“…I agree.”
“Of course, even so….”
I have no intention of belittling your skill.
Gerhard muttered thus,
then suddenly stopped walking.
“There is something I wish to ask you, Professor Argento.”
Abel turned around.
Sunlight slipping in through the window split Gerhard’s expression in two. It brightly illuminated the lower half of his face, which bore a hearty smile, while casting shadows over his keenly honed gray eyes.
It was as if he were pointing a blade at him. Thinking so, Abel met Gerhard’s gaze. No further weaponry was needed. Gerhard conveyed his intent through sheer presence alone. His firm desire to win was as clear as if a sword edge were pressed forward.
“My son told me this. That you do not hold chivalry in particularly high regard.”
“I believe it is necessary to a certain extent.”
Abel spoke in an even tone.
“For a knight, lofty principles are a sweet draught to soothe the heart. The code that one must remain upright offers comfort on the battlefield.”
At times, it also becomes a shackle.
Abel murmured so.
“A knight who kills the weak is no true knight. If such a code takes root, it can at least somewhat prevent knights from acting on impulse. Not only chivalry, but most norms function in this way. They divide right from wrong and guide people away from the wrong. Religion does so, and the law does as well.”
“I agree.”
Gerhard nodded readily.
“The knight’s code is nothing more than a norm. An illusion devised so that a ruler may efficiently control knights, and so that knights may somehow sustain themselves.”
“I am not condemning it as an illusion.”
“No, it is an illusion.”
Gerhard declared.
“Norms pretend to be absolute, yet they change with the times. That makes them illusions. They are illusions that are so firmly established that they appear real. As you said, most humans are ruled by illusions and rule through them.”
That is why I am curious.
Seeing you in person only deepens my question.
Your sword…. Seeing that worn blade at your waist makes me all the more curious.
“I, Gerhard von Farenheit, have lived through countless chaotic battles, yet I could only lean upon the code. Not only I, but all knights of the Farenheit family did the same. We endured innumerable battlefields and made a resolution. To uphold a code that was nothing more than an illusion. Because there was nothing else we could protect.”
If you can turn your back on a knight’s code,
then it must be because you are bound to an illusion greater than that code.
Because you resolved to protect an illusion more precious, and more hollow, than chivalry itself.
“Answer me, Abel.”
Am I wrong?
Gerhard asked quietly, and
“The answer to that question….”
Abel turned without hesitation.
The shadow of his cherished blade was carved upon the carpet.
“…I will show it to you shortly.”
***
At the same time, the third training ground of Cia-Harphe Academy.
Cold winter air settled over the grains of sand.
“…That is how it is.”
Demian spoke.
The vast training ground was sparsely populated. It was the start of the break. Only three slender shadows stretched across the ground—those of Demian, Monika, and Roberta.
“Wait, then Demian Oppa is not doing remedial classes?”
Roberta pouted.
From what she had just heard, Demian would be leaving next weekend. He would graduate early from CIAR and embark on a journey to be appointed a Holy Knight by the Papacy.
“Until I leave, I should still attend class.”
Demian said, brushing back his hair.
Softly curved blond strands slid along his nape.
“Considering Professor Argento’s disposition….”
“…That is exactly like him.”
Monika murmured, finishing Demian’s thought.
So that was why he was late. Looking toward the main building, Monika thought. They had been waiting at the training ground for about thirty minutes. It was already time for class to have begun, but Abel, summoned by Konstanze, had not returned.
“How unfair.”
Roberta frowned.
“Honestly, it is basically a pilgrimage trip.”
“You have to resolve the issues that arise in the regions where the cathedrals are located. Until then, you cannot leave for other areas.”
“Even so, it sounds more fun than training with Professor Argento.”
“…Does it?”
Demian laughed weakly.
It still did not feel real. He had only received the news abruptly from Gerhard the night before. That the Papacy had acknowledged his achievement with Aura, and that an examination for appointment would be scheduled alongside his early graduation.
‘Am I ready to leave?’
Looking down at his right palm, Demian thought.
A gloved hand. A faint shimmer passed over its center—the lingering trace of the Aura he had awakened. He had tried dispersing it to form a fortress-like barrier. He lacked experience using it in real combat, so he did not yet know other applications, but he would inevitably become proficient during the pilgrimage.
‘Have I truly matured enough to depart…?’
As Demian narrowed his eyes in thought,
“Congratulations, Senior.”
Suddenly, green light spread across one edge of Demian’s vision.
Monika had focused Aura into her prosthetic arm. Amid Aura shaped like green blades of grass, multicolored flower buds were forming. Its form had changed after the battle in Portsmouth.
“Please tell us before you leave. We will come see you off.”
“Yes, I will come too.”
Monika and Roberta said,
“…All right.”
Demian shifted his gaze toward the outside of the training ground.
Footsteps were approaching from two directions.
‘…Er.’
From afar, Ernst was approaching.
It was obvious he had prepared hastily. The training uniform clinging to his gaunt frame was disheveled. Had he overslept? Ernst came to stand beside them with his hair in disarray.
“Er, I heard from the Papacy….”
“I heard.”
“From whom? I only heard it last night.”
“Some damned old man told me.”
As Demian spoke,
Ernst replied in an indifferent tone, and then,
“Greetings, everyone.”
From the distance in the other direction,
Abel approached the students and stopped.
Gerhard stood behind him.
“Remedial classes will begin today.”
The students’ gazes turned toward Gerhard.
Gerhard himself was not looking at the students. With an amused expression, he was examining his right hand. A practice longsword issued to CIAR students. He turned it over, smiling.
“Thus, I have brought a sparring partner to assist with your training.”
“That is just Demian Oppa’s father!”
At Abel’s words, Roberta raised her hand and shouted,
“This is ridiculous. You expect us to fight one of the Empire’s greatest knights?”
Ernst grumbled with his arms crossed.
“…Father?”
Demian said, eyes wide, while,
“Well….”
Whoosh.
After swinging the blade once through the air,
“That is how it is.”
Keh ha!
Gerhard laughed heartily.
“Nice to meet you, children. I suppose I should introduce myself first. I am Demian’s father. There is no need to worry. I, Gerhard von Farenheit, will face you using a practice longsword, and….”
“I will personally command you.”
Abel stepped forward.
He faced Gerhard with his back to the students.
“So do not be nervous.”
Scrape.
Abel’s cherished blade slid free of its scabbard.
“This time….”
Holding the blade, Abel murmured,
“I will stand on your side.”