The Way of Knight Chapter 10 – Wounds That Shape
The morning sky above Eisenwald hung gray and heavy. Clouds drifted low, casting a pall over the village that had yet to recover from the recent battle. The air smelled faintly of charred wood from last night's bonfires, but beneath it lingered another stench—iron, blood, and grief.
Fenrir stood silently at the edge of the village square, his gaze fixed on the row of bodies laid out and wrapped in plain cloth. There were no grand coffins, no ringing bells of cathedrals, only the quiet sobs and murmured prayers of grieving families. Each voice was a dagger twisting in his chest.
His fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his skin. They died under my watch. I led them… and this is the result.
"Fenrir."
The deep, worn voice of Baron Cedric Eisenwald broke the silence. His father stood beside him, his body weakened by injuries, his face pale. Yet the man's eyes were sharp, unwavering, the same steel that had carried him through decades of hardship.
"Do not let guilt paralyze you," Cedric said, voice steady. "A leader must remember every loss, but never let the weight of those memories chain your feet. Let these wounds shape you, not destroy you."
Fenrir turned, meeting his father's gaze.
"How, Father? How do I accept that every victory demands lives in return?"
For a moment, Cedric said nothing. Then he exhaled slowly.
"By remembering this: you do not fight for yourself. You fight so that those who live may keep breathing. Wounds will always remain—but wounds can also be forged into a blade."
The words struck deep. Fenrir gave a small nod, though the heaviness in his chest did not ease.
The funerals were simple. Each family lit a small fire beside the graves, offering their prayers for the fallen. The night air carried smoke and sorrow, the flickering flames illuminating tear-streaked faces.
Fenrir stood among them, not as a noble above his people, but as one who shared their loss.
An old woman approached, her wrinkled hands trembling, her eyes swollen from crying.
"My lord… thank you. Without you, perhaps none of our children would still be alive. We will not forget what you have done."
Fenrir lowered his head, shame tightening his throat. They thank me, even though I failed to protect them all…
Yet when he lifted his gaze and looked into their eyes, he saw something more than gratitude—he saw trust. Despite their grief, they now looked at him with hope. That trust was far heavier than any thanks.
Days passed. Slowly, the village began to heal. Houses were rebuilt, fields tended once more, and the laughter of children returned, though still laced with fear.
Fenrir spent his days working alongside the villagers, not merely commanding but laboring with his own hands. He carried wood, patched rooftops, and hauled water.
One afternoon, a middle-aged man stopped him.
"My lord, this work is beneath a noble. You shouldn't—"
Fenrir shook his head with a faint smile.
"If I want them to trust me as their leader, then I must show that I am one of them. Noble or not, I will work as they do."
The words spread quickly. Fenrir was no longer seen as merely the son of a poor baron, but as a young leader who lived and breathed with his people.
That night, alone in his chamber, the voice of the system echoed again.
[Passive Effect Activated: Compassionate Leader Lv.1]
The people of Eisenwald now see you not only as the heir of a baron, but as their leader. Trust rises significantly.
Bonus: Each time you personally aid your people, your influence grows.
Fenrir's lips curved into a small, grim smile. So this is how it works… Not only through war, but through the heart. If I am to become Emperor one day, then it begins here—with the smallest acts, the smallest trust.
But peace never lasted long.
Weeks after the battle, royal envoys arrived. Clad in blue uniforms embroidered with the golden lion of Luminaria, they rode into the battered village with the rigid formality of the crown's hand.
"Baron Cedric Eisenwald," one envoy announced, stepping forward. "We received reports of bandit attacks along the border. By order of Marquis Helbrecht, we have come to investigate the situation."
Cedric bowed his head slightly, though his body was still weak. "We repelled the attack, though at great cost."
The envoy's eyes scanned the village, lingering on the half-repaired homes and fresh graves. "Great cost indeed. Yet curious—how did a poor baron manage to hold against hundreds of bandits? That is… not ordinary."
His gaze shifted to Fenrir. "Was it the boy who led the defense?"
Cedric opened his mouth, but Fenrir stepped forward before his father could answer.
"Yes. I arranged the defenses. Is that a problem?"
The envoy narrowed his eyes, then smirked faintly.
"No problem. Intriguing, in fact. Marquis Helbrecht may wish to meet you in person. Be prepared should his summons arrive."
With that, they departed, leaving tension in their wake.
Fenrir stood motionless, thoughts churning. So, I've caught the eye of the higher nobility…
Cedric laid a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Be cautious. The world of nobles is not only swords and battle—it is politics. Many will see you as a threat."
Fenrir's gaze hardened.
"That is the path I've chosen, Father. If I aim for the summit, I cannot hide forever."
That night, he stood once more in the village square, beneath a sky scattered with stars. The wind carried faint traces of mourning songs from homes still steeped in grief.
Fenrir gripped his sword, knuckles white. I swear. These wounds will become my foundation. Every tear shed will become a stepping stone. And one day, I will stand at the pinnacle, so that no one here will have to suffer again.
The system's voice chimed once more.
[Hidden Quest Unlocked: Path of the Emperor]
Long-Term Objective: Build your influence from a poor village to the throne of the Empire.
Progress: 0.01%.
A faint smile crossed his lips. The road ahead stretched far, paved with blood and betrayal. But his heart no longer wavered. The wounds he bore today, the scars carved into his soul—these would shape him into the leader he had sworn to become.
And I will keep moving, until the world itself acknowledges me.
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