a/n: this chapter consists only of the pov of the senior knight, but i suggest not to skip. some info here justifies the earlier events and advances the plot. anw, the decision is up to you ;pp
- – – 7 7 7 – – -
"...Ahem."
Strange.
My throat had been itchy for the past week, but today it felt even worse. Was it because of that oyster mushroom I had picked from the roots of the pine tree? It should have been edible, based on the records.
Damn it. I shouldn't have eaten that.
But I had no maid to cook me a different meal daily. Truthfully, I envied the young lord.
"Thierry."
Disgusting.
I feel like worms are wriggling inside my throat and lungs.
"Hey! Thierry."
I finally faced the knight beside me after calling my name multiple times, Gaston
"What?"
"About the upcoming finals of the tournament. Do… you think the young lord stands a chance against Lythian?"
I wanted to tell Gaston to go shit on his mouth. It was irritating to hear the same question over and over again, as he seemed to have taken interest in that cadet.
Then again, does the young lord stand a chance? That…
"I cannot say for certain. But… perhaps, by a stroke of fate."
Fate, huh? I had told a lie, but not entirely a lie.
From what I had observed, the young lord's growth over the past few days was incomparable to that of the cadets I had trained when they first held a sword.
Was it because the vice commander was the one mentoring him?
No. That was not the reason either.
Even Lythian, the commander's grandchild, had taken at least three weeks to display that level of mastery. He would not have been able to even land a hit after just a few days.
"Ahem. The young lord still carries the blood of the Harts, after all."
That was the most fitting answer I could give.
Gaston smirked.
"You're right."
The blood of House Hart was always known as supreme. The eldest sibling of the young lord was even rumored to have reached the level of Transcendent— I had yet to meet her, though.
Still, that realm was far beyond my reach.
I had trained with the sword for over forty years, that's all of my life! Yet I remained at the same level as Gaston in the radiant stage. In short, there were only two rings in my heart.
"But man, this peaceful life will soon be over. A few more weeks, and I'll finally get to see my wife back in the main dukedom again. Ah. I wonder if my children are all grown up now."
Gaston and I had been stationed here for ten years.
That much time was enough for our swordsmanship to gather rust and grow dull, but this was still better than fighting in wars with our lives on the line.
The salary given to us was above average compared to back then. It was only the budget of maintaining the camp that was lacking.
In a few weeks, on the young lord's… I supposed on his 16th birthday, the Harts would hold a ritual they called a ceremony. I had heard it was a chance for the Hart offspring to display the power they had gained from their lives in their respective manors.
'But the young lord is still yet to open a ring. At this rate, he might be disowned.'
Whatever.
"Enough of that and keep your focus. The wind had strangely turned eerily silent."
I scanned the surroundings and couldn't even hear the howling of the winter wind outside, nor the faint sound of snowflakes hitting the windowpane.
Gaston brushed me off.
"Come on, what is there to worry about?"
There was already trouble in the village, and the vice commander had gone with the maid, the only magician around here, to deal with it.
Most likely, beasts like imps had been drawn to the village by now due the scent of humans after the lantern malfunctioned.
Strange, though. Those lanterns are supposed to last for at least three centuries if no magician would mess with the flames made of their stars, and that maid couldn't have done that. Other magicians may be at play.
"Ahem."
Clearing out my throat, I settled my thoughts.
Gaston leaned against the door, then pulled out a pendant from his ring and showed me the image of his wife.
"It has been—"
Thunk!
A sword wreathed in blue flames suddenly shot forward and pierced Gaston's chest. It slammed him against the door, his heart completely torn apart.
Blood gushed out from his arteries, soaking my face.
"Who—?!"
I unsheathed my sword and turned around. At the far end of the hallway, near the staircase, stood a familiar figure.
"Caspian? Why would you—?!"
Caspian smiled.
That alone told me everything.
The thing was, Caspian had never smiled. Not even once. He was a man broken by war, one who had chosen this quiet post to escape it.
This Caspian… was not him.
Blue flames crackled on my boots. I darted forward, reaching him in a mere second. I should have warned the young lord, but rage flooded my mind.
I could inform him after I killed this bastard.
Clang!
Caspian unsheathed his own sword and blocked my strike. The sword that had killed Gaston belonged to the other knight assigned with him.
Caspian leapt backward, evading my follow-up.
"You…! You are not Caspian. Who are you?!"
"…"
This bastard didn't reply.
He was likely a shapeshifter in cahoots with the magician who had tampered with the lantern, and shapeshifting itself was a product of magic.
In any case, I shall pull the words out of his mouth.
Dhush!
I darted forward again.
But… my attack missed? No. That was not possible. I was certain the strike should have taken his neck.
Fwoosh, fwoosh!
I attacked again and again, only then did I understand it.
Caspian would slide an inch back smoothly in just a millisecond before the attack hits— a move that is enough to evade and enough to deceive.
Focusing my zi, I unleashed a wave through my sword— it was an attack only a radiant could muster.
Caspian mirrored me.
Boom!
Our attacks collided, and the impact shattered the door beside the collision.
A library.
Caspian rushed inside.
"Forgive me, young lord. But I must cut through the walls of this library."
I was not foolish enough to walk into such an obvious trap. I sliced through the wall with zi imbued into my blade. It drained most of my stamina, but it was worth it.
As expected, he had been waiting above the shelves, ready to ambush. The moment the wall collapsed, he leapt out and rushed me.
Clang!
The impact forced me back against the wall.
But I was no novice. Even at my age, I was not behind in performing acrobatics and mid-air movements than what the cadets displayed in their bouts.
Clang, clang!
Clang!
Both our swords collided in rapid succession.
Most of my attacks landed, carving wounds into his body. He had yet to land one on me.
That confirmed it, even more so.
This was not the real Caspian. The knights believed my strength was second only to the vice commander and the commander, but they were wrong. Caspian was far stronger than me.
This imitation of a man before me could only mimic strength and not his skill.
He rushed forward.
Dhuuuush!
Our swords crossed yet again.
I deflected his strike and drove mine into his body, carving a deep diagonal wound. His organs were visible.
Thud!
Caspian fell on the floor, his face first.
Panting, I stepped on his neck and pinned him down, then stabbed the floor an inch from his face.
"I asked you already. Who are you?!"
"I..."
Finally, a word left his lips. Or so I thought.
Crack, crack!
His body remained face-down, but his neck turned and twisted 180 degrees. His spine protruded as he met my gaze.
It was a macabre sight, one no man should ever witness.
"I… h-help me. T-t-thierry… I… can't c-control my—"
Crack!
His neck twisted again another 180 degrees, facing the floor one more time.
A chill crawled up my spine. I stumbled back, pressing myself against the wall.
I thought about Caspian's final words. In that case, I hadn't killed a shapeshifter. I had killed Caspian. A puppeteer… someone had been controlling his body.
That explained his unskilled fighting, but that also explained I just killed a fellow knight.
I wanted to vomit, but nothing came out—
Cough, cough!
—except intense coughs.
A minute passed in silence.
Staggering, I made my way to the young lord's room. I had to report that the threat had been dealt with, or barely. I had already dispersed what little amount of zi left in me to examine the manor, but found no traces of that puppeteer.
I reached the door and pushed it open, not bothering to knock as I didn't want to see the gore of Gaston's body.
The door only budged slightly. Below, a wooden sword prevented the door from opening wider so that I could fit and pass through it.
Through the gap, I saw the empty bed and the open window.
"Young lo— uughhk—!!"
Blood spilled from my mouth before I could finish.
"—urghhk!!"
It wouldn't stop coming out.
I covered my mouth with both hands. The young lord might punish me for staining the floor.
But…
Looking at my palms… it wasn't just simple blood.
Worms!
Countless worms are writhing in my open palms, basking themselves in my frothy red blood.
My vision darkened.
I tried to ground myself, but my hands slid down the wood, leaving a trail of blood in the shape of my palms that seemed to come out straight from horror stories.
Is this how I die?
Damn it. I didn't want to.
I had planned a lot with the savings I had accumulated over the past ten years, though mainly to get a woman with the beauty of the young lord's maid haha.
My strength finally gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor and I fell onto the floor, vision blurry and dark.
Gaston's blood, still pouring from the gaping hole in his chest, was dripping onto my face.
Gaston…
I feel sorry for his wife and children. I felt sorry for his wife and children. I remembered him hunched over that midnight, writing letters in that shabby handwriting of his…
How many minutes had it been?
The room was silent. Maybe the young lord had escaped through the window.
…Good.
But… I didn't care anymore. My eyes are now suddenly itchy. My nose too… and my ears. Would they crawl out from there as well?
"To think that… such hideous things were inside me all along…"