Ch.135. Look. Look at me.

The heat in my head was far from cooling down; it was boiling even more fiercely.

That said.

I hadn’t completely abandoned my reason.

Just.

‘What’s wrong with fighting back?’

Enduring and enduring, constantly just enduring.

…What have I gained until this moment?

In reality, nothing.

Nothing at all.

All that remains are wounds and scars.

They’re not visible to the eye.

That’s why the perpetrators continued their abuse without any remorse.

Patina, holding a wooden sword, watches me with sharp eyes.

She’s just as excited as I am, but merely because she’s holding a sword—even if it’s not a real one—her demeanor has suddenly changed.

“Take this.”

Before her cold voice could even reach my ears.

Her silhouette scattered and disappeared.

‘?!’

It’s too late to see and then react.

Instinctively, I tilt the swords in both hands and raise them to the right.

Thwack!

The collision sound that rang out was intense for mere wood striking wood, assaulting my eardrums.

But beyond the friction sound, the actual impact transmitted through the wooden sword was even more powerful.

“Ugh!”

“You’re being pushed back by something like this?! Grip tighter! Stand your ground more fiercely!”

It’s unreasonable.

Of course, she naturally has the privilege of reinforcing her body by manipulating mana.

But what about me?

‘It’s meaningless.’

A moment of resistance, a bit of struggle is possible.

But that’s all.

Thwack!

Even though she was clearly angry, I could blatantly feel that she was still holding back.

“Your reactions are slow! Are you planning to just take the hits?!”

“……”

Pointless provocation.

Even with my head heated, I knew better than anyone that no amount of anger would create strength where there was none.

Moreover.

…I don’t have a trump card.

I don’t have a secret technique.

‘……’

But.

That’s not a reason to avoid confrontation.

That doesn’t justify suppressing my anger.

Must the weak, the feeble, shut up, lower their eyes, and endure humiliation completely?

Like a mute, like a blind person.

Must they endlessly endure absurd and unreasonable insults?

Must they accept and bear meaningless slander and condemnation without resistance?

There is no freedom for those who do not resist.

Rights even less so.

Despite knowing this all too well.

Why haven’t I struggled until now?

“…!”

…Because it’s meaningless.

Because it only leads to greater loss.

Because I understood this rationally, because the calculation was so clear.

…I closed my eyes, covered my ears, gave up thinking.

Just, just breathing as the sun set, the moon rose, the sun set again, and the moon rose again…

Like a rotten old tree, like a withering weed.

Silently, enduring was all I could do.

If there was one hope in that,

it was.

…The promise that someday, I would leave this place.

The conclusion reached after years of accumulated suffering.

That was my only hope.

My sole lifeline.

“How long do you think you can endure?! If you don’t fight back! If you don’t attack, the enemy won’t retreat! Won’t turn away!”

Useless words.

Truly unnecessary preaching.

No, at this point, it’s just slander, mockery, and contempt.

So what? What am I supposed to do?

I’m used to getting hit.

The shame from it even more so.

I was always the one pathetically rolling on the ground in practice duels.

My line of sight lowered, and in the scenery I looked up at, countless gazes looked down on me, despised me.

…It was all too familiar.

So getting hit, enduring, and collapsing with practiced ease.

I’m so accustomed to it that it makes me sick.

I even adapted to that.

At some point, I even accepted it as a survival tactic.

Crack!

The wooden sword I was blocking with partially split and cracked under the impact.

The fact that it didn’t completely break or shatter was probably intentional on her part.

She was skilled enough for that level of control.

“Take a new sword.”

“……”

Not at all.

I defied her words and threw the wooden sword away instead.

“What are you doing now?”

“What? Scared of bare hands?”

“Stop with the pointless provocations. You can barely hold a sword properly, how dare you take that attitude?”

“Do enemies in real battles wait for you to find another weapon when yours breaks? What an impressive chivalry you have.”

“…How far do you intend to fall?”

Fall? Give me a break.

“What? Is that how my father taught you?”

“Kariel—! You really! There are things a person should and shouldn’t say!”

Why…

Why is she more angry than I am?

I didn’t even insult her.

And the target of my mockery was my father, of all people.

Kariel bit his lip and retorted.

“You said you’d fix my mindset? Was that just talk? You too? If that’s what being a knight means, why don’t you just farm or chop wood for a living?”

“Don’t… regret this.”

Ah.

I truly feel what it means for flesh to tremble.

Across the skin, cutting into the muscles.

The intense anger reaches even the bones with a palpable weight.

But why?

‘Like that.’

It’s not that impressive?

At least that’s not killing intent.

It was clear that this wasn’t the aura or will to kill someone.

But it was equally clear that there would be no forgiveness or mercy.

With one stomp, the ground cracked like a dense spider web.

She charged with a fierce gust of wind.

With speed and momentum incomparable to before.

But strangely.

“?!”

I avoided it by a hair’s breadth.

The following series of attacks too.

Barely avoided. Narrowly avoided again.

The wooden sword striking at my hair.

But not even grazing my scalp, let alone shaking my skull or brain.

The wooden sword cut through the air with a fierce sound.

But it didn’t connect.

It doesn’t connect.

All by the narrowest of margins.

And this continues.

Slightly.

Sometimes it hit my skin, making it red, peeling and scratching and cutting, with blood trickling from the wounds.

But.

None of them resulted in a fatal wound.

“……”

Perhaps it should be moving.

To think that I, of all people, could dodge Patina’s attacks with my bare body!

And so I realize.

I become even more acutely aware.

A grating metallic sound echoed in my mind.

Screech—!

Misery.

That emotion materializes and weighs down on my heart.

For years and years, rolling and tumbling.

Striving, suffering and suffering more.

Chewing on regrets, using even that as motivation to hold a sword, wielding my inferiority complex as a whip to swing the sword, flowing and utilizing mana, racking my brain to fill in and compensate for what I lacked.

Truly, truly using every method possible.

I.

Just by meeting the Demon King, inviting death, resolving myself, and enduring for this short time.

…I was somehow responding to an onslaught I had thought I could never counter in my lifetime.

‘Ha!’

Of course.

Counterattacking is impossible.

Switching to offense is absolutely out of the question.

Even now, it was as precarious as walking a tightrope on one foot.

The countless arrows showering down target my entire body as a bullseye.

Until I become the target and fall.

They pour down and pierce continuously.

Also.

The disaster of heavily armored cavalry rushing in like a sandstorm, like a tidal wave, is an ordeal impossible to face bare-handed.

But that’s not the end.

Sometimes being kicked or trampled under the feet of giant monsters.

Being pounced on by beasts and having my whole body torn and ripped apart.

Being cut, stabbed, and beaten by armed forces charging from all directions.

Dying, dying, and dying again.

In the end, all I gained was.

…Just struggling to survive a little longer.

But there was a clear limit to that.

‘Dodging isn’t enough.’

I know.

I know too well.

But the Demon King declared he wouldn’t tell me the solution.

He dismissed me, saying I should find the way myself.

‘Didn’t he say you’d regret it? Why didn’t you just accept when he offered it?’

Do I regret it?

Or do I resent it?

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

Regret, I don’t know since when.

But at least until this moment, my life since birth has been nothing but regret at every turn.

In the past, I once deluded myself into thinking I was great, that I was something special.

Even that is now just a faint fragment of memory that I can barely recall.

In the end, reality is miserable, cheap, and sordid.

All that remains for me is only…

Broken, shattered, and discarded.

Pitiful pride.

Crack!

“?!”

As if waiting for just this moment.

Towards the wooden sword thrusting in a straight line. Kariel spread his palm wide to receive it.

Naturally, the tip of the wooden sword pierced through his palm, and not stopping there, it emerged through the back of his hand.

Rather than pulling back, he pushed his palm forward and instantly gripped the wooden sword tightly.

“Wh-what are you—?!”

“Clench your teeth.”

Before she could even warn him.

He was already striking Patina’s face with his other fist.

Crack!

“Kugh!”

A true knight never lets go of their sword, even at the cost of their life.

“Are, are you in your right mind?!”

Words are unnecessary.

The first punch caught her by surprise, but the second won’t work.

Realizing it was too late to block with her remaining hand, she cleverly used her forehead to receive the punch.

As expected, Kariel’s weak fist scattered pathetically like seawater hitting a reef.

But.

Undeterred, Kariel swung his fist again.

“Kuk?!”

Her gaze wavered.

Was it bewilderment at what he had done to his own hand, or fear?

That confusion allowed Kariel two, three more opportunities to attack.

But that was all.

Once the momentary opportunity was neutralized, Patina grabbed Kariel’s fist with her free hand.

What was unexpected here was.

After grabbing and then releasing Kariel’s damaged fist, she used his open mouth to her advantage.

She flipped Kariel’s entire body over.

‘This is…’

Ridiculous.

What is this?

Following her body as if falling forward, but suddenly flipped over and colliding with the ground.

The impact transmitted from my back immediately stabbed into my internal organs, heart, and lungs.

“Kuhak!”

My breath abruptly stopped, and my mind instantly became distant.

It was truly a mess.

My left palm was pierced by the wooden sword and in shambles, and even the arm joint was twisted and broken from being swung around.

Due to being thrown and colliding with the ground, I couldn’t even breathe properly, and my right hand was a mess with broken fingers and wrist from being beaten and bitten, but.

Even so, is this what it means to be accustomed to pain?

Even in the midst of this, I struggle to get up.

Using the wooden sword that had pierced my palm as support, even using my broken left arm joint as a prop to somehow raise my body.

The excruciating pain that couldn’t be endured just by gritting my teeth rushed in all at once.

“Aaaaargh—!”

Rolling and struggling on the ground.

Yet I didn’t give up.

Absurdly.

In this current pain.

I, ridiculously enough.

…Was on the verge of tears from a sense of liberation I had never experienced before.

The sky is dark, the moon is shabby, but the starlight is brilliant.

The air is cold but hot, my whole body feels like it’s burning, and even the blowing wind was insufficient.

But in all of that.

At this moment, I felt no resentment, no hatred, no absurdity at all.

‘Ah….’

Drip, drip, from my left hand, whether it was blood, flesh, or fragments.

Something continuously fell and poured onto the ground.

Yet not at all.

Without fear, regret, or sorrow.

I’m immersed in a base satisfaction.

…Was I crazy all along?

Or.

“Now! What, what are you two doing?!”

At that voice, my mind snapped back to clarity.

“Patina! Kariel! You two… what is this…?”

Ah.

Mother.

Look at me.

I did it.

That genius who joined father’s knight order at the youngest age ever.

I…

‘I landed a hit on her, you know?’

Her, my mother’s expression becomes truly miserable.

In my peripheral vision, Patina’s expression is equally devastated.

At this.

I laughed quietly, gleefully.

A smile, laughter escapes involuntarily.

I can’t hold it back.

Even the pain is joyful, even the suffering is welcome.

But such ecstasy will be brief.

All of this will eventually,

lead to their condemnation of my base self.

But what of it?

Ah, it doesn’t matter.

After all, I am.

…Soon.

Someone who will disappear from this place forever.

With an inexplicable sense of relief and accomplishment.

I could finally laugh out loud.

On that particular day.

The moonlight I looked up at was shabby.

But the starlight spread wide and was brilliantly radiant.