Sword Pilgrim

Chapter 120

“But, why am I here?”

I hadn't considered the issue since I was busy gawking at the rewards.

I clearly remember collapsing inside the royal castle, so why was I here in this underground workshop?

Shouldn't my mansion's bedroom, or the royal castle, or some other medical facility be more appropriate for my convalescence?

“The royal castle was broken in half and needed urgent repairs. The situation looked critical, so all the patients needed to be quickly evacuated to somewhere else first. But it's not like they could keep the hero of the hour waiting for treatment. That bastard Bruns and Sir Allen requested you be brought here.”

Why was Bruns a bastard and Allen a sir?

Could it be that Bruns tried anything with Beatrice?

That bastard always groaned about back problems from all his past ‘activities', so it wasn't completely out of the question.

“Anyway, you aren't recovered yet. Lie down a little longer. I'll let you know when you can get up."

“No, I've had enough sleep. Time to get up.”

After drinking the TD potion designed by Beatrice, I was feeling very comfortable.

Probably because [Smelting Bones] had absorbed the ingredients of the potion more efficiently.

“But, Beatrice.”

"Yes?"

“Why did you save me?”

"Well…”

The reason why Beatrice had worked so hard to save me wasn't very clear.

She and I had a straightforward business relationship, so there was no reason to make so much effort.

“Maybe it's because it'd be disappointing if you died so early?”

“Disappointing…?”

“Anyway, I know you aren't the type to believe what I tell you. Maybe but maybe this gentleman can make you understand.”

Beatrice pointed her chin at the other side of the room.

There was a large man sitting there, a strange-looking man dressed in tiger skin.

He honestly looked like a wandering madman, but I quickly recognized who he was.

He was as huge as a bear, and his eyes were full of tears as he looked at me.

“Brother.”

Who was it, that would call me Brother?

The answer was fixed.

“Cedric.”

He was Cedric.

Cedric bor Madrician.

The last believer of the forgotten Twin Gods.

"That's right."

As soon as I saw him, I knew what Beatrice was trying to say.

Cedric seemed to have discovered the relic of the Twin Gods.

He wouldn't be here crying or calling me Brother otherwise.

If he hadn't found the relic, he would've been trying to kill me instead.

But since he'd found it, and he would do what he'd promised to do when the time came.

‘Establishing a church in Carpe.'

I'd asked him to establish the Church of the Twin Gods in Carpe, and Cedric had said he'd do so if possible.

And Beatrice was a follower of the Whip God, Auste.

Not as great as the Twin Gods, but the Whip God also ranked among the ones people had forgotten about.

She wanted the same thing as Cedric.

‘After all, they both belong to Krasion.'

Krasion was originally such a group.

As a group of people that followed the Gods forgotten by people, what they wanted was very simple and straightforward.

“You must've found the relic, then.”

“Thanks to you, Brother.”

Great.

I would've been very disappointed if he'd failed in his search even after I spoon-fed him all the relevant information.

A desert island to the south, Barberuem.

The residents, an ethnic minority called the Bar Tribe, were a group that believed in the Oracle God.

It was hard to get their recognition, but who was Cedric?

Even within Krasion, he was a strong man who had no opponents except for Ramatu.

So, he must've been recognized by them and obtained the holy relic.

“Then, are you going to set up a church in Carpe?”

Cedric nodded.

However, there was a barely visible unease on his face.

“But I don’t know if it'll be allowed.”

“I’m going to try and solve that problem.”

It was obviously a very difficult issue.

Carpe was born from the sword, and has always lived by the sword. The people, the nobles, and the royal family, considered all faiths apart from the sword heretical.

But I believed that there was some room to manoeuvre.

After all, Carpe wasn't a complete theocracy.

Although closely intertwined, the Church and the royal family remained distinctly separate. That distinction gave me wiggle room.

The sword has long been deeply rooted in the country, but now was the time to make a change.

The timing was very appropriate.

The people were helpless and angry at the destruction of the royal castle and the invasion of the empire.

No matter how it looked from the outside, Carpe had little strength remaining. Yet there were few avenues to quickly increase the national power.

And therefore?

‘You just have to absorb some new power.'

Staring with the Twin Gods of the Fists and Feet[1].

Next would be Auste of the Whip.

The history and perception of the whip wasn't very good, so I didn't know if it'd be accepted.

‘The Church of the Twin Gods is probably doable.'

There would naturally be strong opposition from all corners, but that didn't matter much.

Carpe had its pride which had been trampled on, and the things the nation had to protect had been broken.

“Beatrice.”

"Yes."

“Cedric has to come first.”

“I understand.”

“You'll have to show your value in the next war.”

“You talk like war is sure to happen.”

“It'll happen. In three years at the most.”

It might even trigger within a year or two at the earliest.

Except this time, the empire would come out swinging only after fully completing their preparations.

‘I have to prepare myself, too.'

To be honest, I'd used to think differently.

Initially, I'd been planning to use the least amount of power to protect Carpe and then leave it alone to grow in peace.

Carpe was too tough a problem.

It was a difficult country to keep intact.

No, being born as Callius was hell difficulty in the first place.

Someone else from Carpe wouldn't have had it this hard.

But I became Callius, and I had to raise my sword.

‘Besides, it's a little different now.'

I had a teacher, and a father.

I had people following me. There were colleagues who stood with me, shoulder to shoulder.

‘More than anything…'

I had a daughter looking at my back.

I had to be stronger.

I wasn't even a Master yet.

“Are you alright? You don't look very good.”

"I'm fine. First of all… I'll have to go see the queen."

“That'd be a bit difficult right now.”

“The reason being?”

“She's holding a funeral.”

“A funeral…”

I could tell by looking at her face.

A funeral that the queen herself had to preside over, could be only one.

“Sullivian’s, then.”

“That’s right.”

Sullivian's death had happened quite a while back.

Nevertheless, the funeral had been delayed, certainly because she herself had arranged for her body to be found late.

Because she'd always prioritize Carpe's safety over her own funeral.

“What about Grand Prince Chloe?”

“He hasn’t woken up yet.”

"I see."

His mind had been eroded by demonic magic, so he wouldn't be able to wake up for a while.

The madness had had its sway over him for a long time. To get rid of that would take quite some time.

“So what now?”

"Since it's Lady Sullivian's funeral, I have to attend, too."

“But, Brother, your body is still…”

Cedric said with a worried face.

Although I'd already regained full consciousness, my body was still recovering. Even if it was a funeral ceremony headed by the queen herself, it wouldn't be rude for me to not show up.

"No."

The funeral of somebody like Sullivian, who was no worse than a saint of the Sword Church, wasn't an ordinary event.

And even if I ignored that –

“… I have to go.”

To attend was my obligation.

Because her death had stemmed from my intention.

I was the one responsible.

A corner of the royal capital.

A large level area, called Rustable.

It was a cemetery where heroes of the country and people from the royal family were enshrined after their deaths.

And today –

In that place, lay a woman who'd given a lot to many people, and devoted herself to the nation all her life. Even if she wouldn’t be buried in the end, a tombstone had to be erected.

“She's Glory bound.”

“May God be with her.”

The funeral, which had begun early one morning, had been going on for three days and three nights.

Because the procession of those who'd gathered to commemorate her death did not cease.

Even nobles and famous people from other countries whose life she'd saved, had come forward.

To mourn the death of one single person, ignoring the differences in their faiths.

The priests rang the bells and recited prayers, and the mourners prepared flowers one by one and laid them down beside her.

The queen and Esther were next to Sullivian's coffin, who appeared to be merely asleep.

And along with them was the pope.

None of them looked very good.

The pope looked like he'd suddenly aged another decade, and Esther's face was pale white.

The same went for Clara, the queen who remembered tottering after her aunt when she was a child.

The funeral had been going on for several days now.

However, as the procession continued, the divine power that permeated the surrounding atmosphere became denser and denser.

‘Slowly, it's…'

Their tributes –

One by one, their prayers and condolences were permeating the air.

Blessing Sullivian's body that lay there as if asleep.

After the funeral, another ceremony was to be held for the body and soul that had not yet dispersed.

According to her request.

[Give all of me, to Esther.]

She, today –

Would become a sword.

Her image was reflected in the pope's eyes.

‘I should've been with you, too.'

He was still that same old man who hadn't yet found a place to die.

Murmur, murmur.

The procession split slowly.

The pope looked up to see what was going on, and saw a man in formal uniform walking through the gap.

An aristocrat who walked with his back straight, with black hair, his gray eyes fixed on only one thing.

Somebody who'd once been Jervain's trash, and had transformed into the Hero of National Salvation.

Callius von Jervain.

“Are you here?”

"Yes."

He looked as if he was about to collapse at any moment. Apparently his wounds had not yet healed.

Her lips were dry and cracked, and his eyes without light.

But such things somehow only enhanced his beauty.

The pope swallowed a laugh.

“See, Sullivian? Such a handsome young man came to visit you. You must be very happy.”

He turned his gaze away from Esther and the queen, who seemed about to cry.

Callius took a white flower from his bosom and licked his dry lips.

As his divine power seeped into it, the flower regained its vitality and bloomed.

The queen's eyes momentarily widened at the purity of that power, and she gave a small happy smile.

“For Sullivian, whose honour never wavered even until the last moment.”

Plop.

Whooosh–!

Callius put the flower down on her body.

At that moment, a silver flash of divine power spread like a ripple.

A deep and serene divinity that filled the Rustable Plains.

Seeing that beautiful sight –

The pope rose from his seat.

“I will proceed with her death ceremony.”

The pope looked at Callius and asked.

“Can you help me?”

"Gladly."

There were many familiar faces all around.

Several paladins and knights were gathered, including the Golden Lion.

There was even a Master who had not yet healed his wounds.

All of them must've gathered here to spend the last day with Sullivian.

A dazzling light flashed.

From her body, the divine power of a saint rose and caressed the whole area like a gentle wind.

That day –

Sullivian became a sword.

“…”

The pope looked at the sword in his hand.

A sword as soft as a single flower and as strong as unbreakable adamant.

His eyes reddened, as if he was again seeing her when he was young, when she'd won his heart.

However, it was not for him to hold this sword. The pope beckoned to the blue-haired knight who was wiping away her tears.

“Come.”

Esther wiped her face with an arm and stepped forward. Then, she carefully took the sword the pope was offering her with both hands.

Esther's eyes gleamed golden as she held the sword.

The golden power spread like a wave.

“My wound…!”

“It's a miracle…”

“I'm feeling better…!”

Even after Sullivian became a sword –

She was still a healer.

The restored royal castle.

In the audience chamber, Callius was drinking tea with the queen.

“Did they really?”

“Yes, after you fell unconscious, the Sixth Squad did a great job dealing with the remnant imperial forces.”

“I’m glad they were useful.”

“And, Count, those apprentice knights training at your mansion?”

“… Yes?"

The little ones?

What’d happened to them?

“Apparently they helped track down the imperial soldiers too, and even fought and beat some of them.”

Those snot-nosed brats had managed something like that?

How surprising.

The Sixth Squad was one thing, but even those kids had stepped up to the plate?

"Among them… they say that your young daughter was very eye-catching. I didn't know you already have a child at such a young age. Pope Felice seems to be paying attention to her too.”

Callius' lips twitched.

“She’s a pretty smart kid.”

“Then, the young lady's mother…”

“She's dead.”

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry."

"Think nothing of it."

Why did she look like she was laughing while saying sorry?

Women were hard to understand.

"Count."

"Yes."

"Thank you."

“I just did my duty.”

“There were a lot of people who didn’t do their duty and tried to take my life instead. And… thank you for saving Grand Prince Chloe. I just wanted to tell you that. He's the only blood relative I have left."

For a moment, loneliness appeared in the queen's eyes. Callius pretended not to see it.

“Let me know if you want anything. Whatever it is. I will give you something befitting a hero of our country.”

Was this the time?

Callius said without delay.

“I want one thing.”

For a new power –

To inhabit the vessel of this country.

“I want you to accept the Twin Gods.”

“Twin… Gods?”

Victor's eyes widened.

Unlike the queen who didn't know what those words meant –

He seemed to know.

The queen raised her head and asked Victor.

"Do you know?"

"Yes. A God who disappeared long ago.”

“The faith still survives,” Callus interjected.

“Are you telling Carpe to accept a new faith now, Count?”

"Yes. That's right."

“Count… Are you a heretic?”

"It's not that. But I do think Carpe should embrace their power.”

The present Carpe had lost much to the imperial invasion.

For example, national pride.

When the royal castle collapsed from the empire's attack, everyone had realized it, no matter how hard they tried to deny the truth.

Carpe was on the road to extinction.

“… This is awkward. I never expected you to ask for something like this.”

“The empire has grown strong. They were defeated this time because they were arrogant. Next time, they won’t leave anything to chance. I don't think they can be stopped as the country is now. So I –”

“You think we should assimilate a new power.”

"Yes."

Clara was worried.

If someone else had said it, she could've called it nonsense and thrown out the speaker, accusing them of being an apostate.

However, the person saying it was a national hero and the knight who'd saved her life.

She couldn't dismiss it so simply.

“Victor.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

"What do you think?"

“The sword of Carpe is not weak.”

“You mean we don’t need them?”

“But it's not strong either.”

Victor's eyes looked straight at the queen. Those direct eyes made her feel his determination. Finally, she spoke.

“This can't be done. There's no denying that Carpe is a country that has prospered along with the sword. The history of the sword here stretches back centuries. Not just me, the other nobles and the people all revere the sword. There's no room for other Gods to squirm into this place, where the sword has been carved into the bone.”

Yet Callius stayed silent.

But his eyes too burned with a firm resolve.

"However."

The queen's pure pupils pinned Callius in place.

“It’s the count’s request, so we can’t ignore it. I will meet the representative of the Twin Gods.”

Alright.

This was it.

Once she saw their power, the queen would have no choice but to change her mind.

First of all, she wasn't wrong.

Carpe was a country that had revered the sword for a long time.

No matter how separated the state and the Church might've been, it couldn't be denied that the root of Carpe was the sword.

“But I can’t call this a reward. Instead, this is more of a personal request. So I suggest an exchange.”

"Yes?"

“Please teach me your sword.”

Callius' lips curved up in an arc.

"It'll be my pleasure."

Editor's Notes:

[1] ?? ?, previously translated as circle and angle. Basically, barehanded martial arts that emphasize tactical positioning and manoeuvering, like modern boxing.