Chapter 45 – The Footsteps of an Ancient Saint (2)

A child’s voice.

[Me? I’m a knight.]

[A knight? What’s that?]

A proud voice answered:

[One who overcomes the impossible. Dies for noble ideals. Endures pain. Corrects mistakes. Loves justice, goodness. Vanquishes evil. Embraces dreams, love, hope, faith, and runs to the world’s end. That… is a knight.]

“……”

Cariel, hand retracting from the sword, pondered the words.

What was that?

–See something interesting?–

The golden girl’s face was inches from his. He gasped, then composed himself. She knew he couldn’t explain.

“Luelde? What is it?”

Alesia, sensing his unease, approached.

“I… heard a voice.”

“A voice? From the sword?”

“Something… like that.”

She nodded, unsurprised. Philbar gasped.

“You hear residual energy?! Remarkable! Inspiration! Paper! Pen!”

His servants rushed to provide them. He scribbled furiously.

Alesia whispered,

“What did you hear? Something… bad?”

The Baronenes family joined them.

“Well…”

Cariel described the exchange: child and knight.

“Saint Cariel… teaching a child about knighthood… incredible!”

Roia was awestruck. Ludhi frowned.

“But… the vows… they’re different.”

“Perhaps… a romanticized version… for a child? More inspiring?”

Luke shrugged.

“Romantic! Perfect! The birth of chivalry! Inspiring a child! A beautiful image!”

Philbar scribbled frantically.

“An unexpected answer.”

All eyes turned to Cariel.

“……”

He frowned, then…

“…?”

Children. Two boys, a girl, running.

“What do you see?”

“Uh… children… running.”

“Where?”

He pointed.

“Let’s follow them!”

Philbar packed up, the tent vanished. Cariel followed the phantom children.

“…This is…”

Cariela. The city gates.

“Wait!”

The carriage stopped in the shadows. Philbar set up his tools.

“…A reaction… but… not here.”

“This is… problematic.”

Roia frowned.

“At least it’s a lead.”

“True.”

“Thanks to me, eh?”

Luke grinned.

“Luck, not skill.”

Alesia corrected him. Luke protested. Cariel watched, detached, yet strangely… engaged. Confused, yet… fascinated. To interact with others, without the usual tension, the usual fear… It felt… different.

He saw someone, standing in the crowd, unmoving, gazing forward.

====

–Most beings… aren’t interested in others.–

Unless… something extraordinary.

–A child reading… ignores the insignificant dwarf… unless… the dwarf is the hero.–

Then, they close the book. Not their story. Not their hero.

–A cruel truth.–

Cariel glanced at the muttering Demon King. He didn’t understand.

–That one… fortunate, or unfortunate?–

She approached the figure in the crowd. Intangible. People walked through him. A phantom, visible only to Cariel.

–What do you think?–

“…Not for me to judge.”

Cariel watched the phantom. Standing firm, yet… fragile. Unkempt hair, tattered clothes, caked in dirt. His gaze, fixed ahead. A sword in his hand.

“……”

Cariel knew. He hadn’t, until now.

“This is…”

Despite his strong build, he looked… pathetic. But this was…

…Him. 300 years ago.

His namesake. His origin.

“……”

Cariel reached out, a sense of… inevitability. He didn’t know what would happen. But he had to.

He touched the figure.

Images flooded his mind.

A boy, sprawled. A knight, in black armor, instructing him. The boy, mimicking with a stick. The knight left. The boy continued, running, climbing, swinging, swimming, practicing. Familiar movements.

The knight returned, correcting his form, then left. The boy grew, stronger, older, his face more resolute. A young man and woman, his friends, married. He watched, then returned to his practice, now with a sword. Chopping wood, fishing, hunting. Self-sufficient, yet dedicating half his days to swordsmanship. No family, only friends. But… isolated.

The knight returned, gifting him a sword.

“You’ll go far.”

“Not for fame. I want to be… like you.”

A man now. Ten years of relentless training. He’d even learned to read and write.

“Why such dedication?”

“My parents said… live without regrets.”

Their final wish. Look forward. Don’t cry.

“But I regret… every day. I was weak. I couldn’t protect them.”

No one blamed him. He was a child. But… if he’d been stronger… his parents… siblings… The neighbors, slaughtered… they might be alive.

“I was… powerless.”

But…

“I don’t want others… to feel this… regret. I want to be strong… like you.”

“……”

The knight sighed.

“Usually… I’m disappointed. But… the world surprises me. Such resolve… in such an… unexpected place…”

The young man didn’t understand. Perhaps… never would.

“Perhaps… fate.”

“You want to protect others? Shield them from regret?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Your own life… isn’t it more important? Find a good wife, raise children…”

“Would that erase the tragedies? The world’s a hell. Living well… is just… ignoring it.”

“Changing the world… a fool’s errand.”

The knight knew. A single person… powerless.

“But… if no one tries…”

“……”

“You’re searching… for someone… who can.”

“I…”

Strange. So little time, yet… he saw right through him.

“I just… wanted to be… someone… admirable.”

That had been his goal. But the closer he got to the world’s tragedies… the more he realized… they were the enemy. Formless, unbeatable.

“Isn’t that enough?”

“Enough? Why?”

“If not me… then someone else. If I fail… my successors… will continue.”

“Not so simple.”

“We won’t know… until we try.”

The boy, holding the stick, learning the knight’s teachings…
Can I do this?

“If I fail… so be it. But that’s no reason… not to try.”

“Stop. You’ll regret it.”

The world’s walls… impossibly high. An insurmountable barrier. A castle wall… nothing. And yet… even that… too much for one person.

“But… you have a point.”

Show me.

“Remember these words…”

Always.

“Live without shame. Stumble, fall, weep. But… never forget…”

Live without shame.

“Then… you might… achieve… something.”

Perhaps…

“A better tomorrow… than you imagine.”

The knight turned away.

“Will I… not see you again?”

He felt… a sense of finality.

“I’m going home.”

“Home?”

“Yes.”

My work here is done.

The knight, once so imposing, now… smaller, somehow. He’d been so focused on that image…

“What should I… call you… Master?”

“Master… too much.”

A long silence.

“Grandeus.”

And your name… I’ll remember.

“Cariel. You… inherit my will. You are my representative… in the Middle Realm.”