Ch.70Your Name

The room sank into a quiet stillness.

The Margrave remained silent for a while.

The Mana Herb in his mouth continued to burn away.

Smoke that hadn’t been fully inhaled rose with embers, drifting through the air.

The mint scent touched the ceiling and scattered downward, blooming an invisible flower in the room.

I moistened my mouth with a sip of the tea Nigel had brought, silently waiting for his answer.

Enjoying the bergamot flavor that filled my mouth.

The Margrave let out a long sigh.

“…Earlier, didn’t you say you didn’t know your family name? Was that a lie?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I didn’t hear it from my mother, but I guessed it after seeing this.”

I took out Imelia’s sword, drew the blade halfway, and placed it on the table.

Since things had come to this, I intended to ask about everything.

The blue-silver blade and its distinct engraving were revealed.

The Margrave leaned forward from his backrest and stared intently at the blade.

“This sword… so you had it after all…”

“You recognize this too? Twelve swords that protect humanity? What exactly is this?”

Its performance was extraordinary, but it made me uneasy in a different way than Frosting did.

The material was so precious that even the Grand Duchess was amazed, and it glowed blue or gold as it pleased.

Plus, when fighting with this sword, my emotions seemed to intensify.

“…Can you see it? The engraving on the blade?”

The Margrave’s voice dropped much lower than usual.

“What…? Of course I can see it, I’m not blind.”

I couldn’t understand the intent behind his question. Asking if I could see the engraving—what did that mean?

The Margrave’s eyes flickered with interest at my response.

“Hmm… Then I suppose I can tell you.”

The Margrave leaned back deeply into his chair.

Exhaling a long stream of smoke. With his eyes half-closed.

“Very well. I’ll explain. About that sword, one of the Twelve Swords of Oath, and about your mother.”

And so the story began.

—-

“You’ve heard of Carlos the Great, I presume? I believe you know that much.”

“Yes. About 800 years ago? The hero who saved humanity with his Twelve Knights and established the Empire. I’ve read about it in books.”

“The Twelve Knights… Indeed. Each one of them was a hero of humanity.”

Lord Ludwig began to tell an old tale.

—-

800 years ago, humanity was still little more than toys.

Even though they had obtained the power of Karma, they were still a weak force compared to the other thriving races.

Dwarves used humans as slaves in mines, and Werebeasts raised people like livestock to eat.

The characteristic that humans could interbreed with most races was a curse in itself.

What happened to humans captured by fairies was never even known.

They simply were never seen again.

Then, a man appeared.

A hero holding high a golden glowing sword.

Roaring with determination that he would change this world.

At first, everyone laughed. He was just a human holding a fancy ornament, they said.

What could a single swordsman do?

Even humans didn’t believe in him.

From their perspective, the world wasn’t hopeful enough to be changed by one man.

And then.

The day that man swung his sword and brought down a dragon, everything changed.

The whole world took notice of him.

He became the salvation and hope for the oppressed humans.

Twelve knights who had been leading human resistance gathered before him, knelt, and offered their swords.

That was the beginning of the marvelous legend written by Carlos the Great and his Twelve Knights.

Five dragons fell from the sky.

Half of the fairy guardians burned to death.

Of the thirty dwarf houses, all but ten were buried.

The seven Beast Kings, whom no one could defeat, were skinned and displayed as taxidermy.

Finally, the world became humanity’s.

—-

“Carlos the Great, after welcoming the Twelve Knights, led them to the place where he had obtained his holy sword. There, the Twelve Knights made a covenant, as the story goes.”

“A covenant?”

“Yes. A vow to fight endlessly for humanity without any self-interest, willing to burn even their souls. And… the god who was there answered their oath by bestowing new swords upon them. That is…”

The Margrave looked down at the sword. With distant longing.

Perhaps with something close to reverence.

“The Twelve Swords of Oath that protect humanity. Your sword.”

I looked at Imelia’s sword with fresh eyes.

I had suspected it might be related to the Twelve Knights, but to think it was actually their sword.

If that’s true, then this sword isn’t just valuable—it’s a national treasure, isn’t it?

I’ve been swinging around something worth nearly a castle.

“True silver, whose forging method is known only to the Imperial House. A blessed engraving that reveals itself only to its rightful owner. A legendary sword said to have led every bearer down the path of heroism without exception. One of the Empire’s secret histories.”

An engraving that reveals itself only to its owner.

So that’s why people who saw my sword only remarked on its value, but couldn’t identify what it truly was?

At least I’ve been acknowledged as this sword’s owner.

The path of heroism. Quite an ambiguous phrase.

“How did such a sword come into my possession?”

“After establishing the Empire, the Twelve Knights disappeared. They probably feared that their descendants would forget their oath and become embroiled in power struggles. Which, ultimately, they did.”

Well, that’s to be expected. It’s common for founding families to cling to power and eventually be purged.

From what I’ve heard, the Great Emperor and the Twelve Knights didn’t have such intentions, but their descendants likely thought differently.

“That’s why not a single one of their family names has been passed down. The Imperial House probably knows, but in the records, only their given names remain.”

So that’s why the books I found in the library only listed their names.

And even then, there were only a few. I thought it strange that there were so few records for heroes of humanity.

If what he says is true, then the Imperial House must know that my family is descended from the Twelve Knights…

Not good.

“This story is getting quite long. So, House Median was one of them?”

“Most of the Twelve Knights’ houses fell into ruin. They fought civil wars among themselves… and some emperors considered them a threat.”

The Margrave heaved a deep sigh.

The smoke that touched the table spread like fog.

—-

The houses of the Twelve Knights, despite their glory, were mostly exterminated.

By the hands of other houses, by enemies.

Sometimes by the Imperial House itself.

The surviving houses had to choose one of two paths:

Either acquire power that even the Imperial House would find difficult to challenge, or live quietly without drawing attention.

Those foolish enough to claim descent from the Twelve Knights without having power were all assassinated.

—-

Ludwig paused briefly and put his burnt-out Mana Herb in the ashtray.

“Those who chose the former used their secured power to negotiate with the Imperial House. In exchange for keeping their family’s truth hidden, they gained absolute power.”

“That was quite wise. But how do you know such secret history? …Is my guess correct?”

If this was a secret history erased from the Empire by the Imperial House, then those who know about it must be one of two things:

Either a member of the Imperial family… or one of those involved.

And the Margrave of Landenburg is not of imperial blood.

“Yes. Your guess is correct. My house was also one of those.”

Margrave Ludwig took out a new Mana Herb and lit it with a match.

“The descendants of Berengaria, one of the Twelve Knights, became the Prince-Elector of Berengaria. Though the family name changed.”

Prince-Elector. The Empire had five Prince-Electors, if I recall correctly.

Two from the Church, Faelrun in the north, Landenburg in the east.

And House Wien in the center.

The archbishops from the Church are religious figures, so that makes sense, but does that mean Faelrun and Wien are also descendants of the Twelve Knights?

“House Median, on the other hand, chose to disappear. Quietly, to live as a mere baronial house in the provinces. Though they were eventually wiped out…”

So Imelia de Median was officially a baroness.

I don’t know how such a person ended up captured by the Ka’har and became Orhan’s wife.

“No, perhaps not wiped out. Here sits the heir, alive and well.”

The Margrave smiled slightly and pointed at me with the tip of his Mana Herb.

“A descendant of the Twelve Knights…”

A father who was a conquering lord of the Ka’har and a mother who was a descendant of the Twelve Knights.

With this level of symbolic bloodline, I could rival the Imperial House itself.

Normally I would have just found this fascinating, but now it was terrifying.

If this became known, I wouldn’t just be a first-class bride candidate, but a special-grade one…?

It’s fortunate that only the Imperial House knows this fact.

Perhaps seeing my horrified expression as merely shock at the secret of my birth, the Margrave continued calmly.

“Most of the Oath Swords were also lost during that time. The Imperial House probably has about five of them in their possession. The sword my house surrendered to obtain the Prince-Elector position, and those collected after assassinating other descendants.”

Feeling thirsty from the smoke, Margrave Ludwig picked up his teacup and savored a sip of tea.

After setting down the cup and enjoying the aroma for a moment, he pointed to the sword again.

“And each of the Oath Swords has a name. That sword is no exception.”

“A name?”

The sword’s name.

“Yes. You should know it. Since you’ve been chosen as that sword’s owner.”

The Margrave put down his Mana Herb and solemnly declared while looking at me:

“The name given to that sword is <Patience>.

A guardian’s sword, forged for those who endure hardship and press forward.”

The Sword of Patience.

Durandal