SS #39 Bildwein’s Heroic Saga Begins (2)

The contents filling the single sheet of paper could be summarized in one line:

– I would like to meet you in person.

Kamael narrowed his eyes.

Let’s meet in person.

Let’s talk in person.

Having grown up walking on eggshells as an illegitimate child, Kamael instantly understood the subtext.

‘Is this a contract proposal?’

To get the book officially published.

Surely, they wouldn’t have sent such a long letter just to see his face.

Kamael’s brow furrowed a little more.

Honestly, to be perfectly honest, it wasn’t as if he’d never imagined a situation like this.

He had indulged in similar fantasies, whether after checking that Lena and Fran weren’t around, or alone before falling asleep.

What if they want to sign a contract right away?

What if the book gets published?

What if it sells so well it becomes a bestseller?

What will I do with the royalties?

And so on.

Kamael composed his expression.

He calmly suppressed the corners of his mouth, which were trying to curl up on their own, and glanced around.

He had already spread his senses wide to confirm no one was nearby, but there was always a ‘what if.’

‘Lena’s not here.’

Neither was Fran.

After confirming the absence of the two people he needed to be most wary of, Kamael reread the letter from the publisher, took a deep breath, and made his decision.

‘Alright, I’ll go.’

He had already written the manuscript, and an opportunity had presented itself.

He was planning to join the Holy Cross Guardians to pursue Manuela and the other demon worshippers anyway, so he could think of this as one last breather before a long and fierce war.

“Hoo.”

Kamael let out a long breath as he carefully folded the letter and tucked it into his clothes. A small, shy smile, one that only Landius could barely recognize, graced his lips.

Crimson Dawn Publishing House was a run-of-the-mill publisher with no particular history or tradition to boast of, nor any bestsellers to its name.

Its main publications were entertainment novels—hero stories, love stories, and the like—the kind of works known as popular fiction.

Kelly, the editor, planner, and vice president of Crimson Dawn, sat in a café where she had arrived early, shuffling through the manuscript she had brought in her bag.

It was the manuscript of the new author she was scheduled to meet today.

Frankly, it wasn’t a very well-written manuscript.

It had its fair share of awkward sentences and grammatical errors, and the descriptions felt somewhat lacking.

But it was also a strangely captivating piece of writing.

Especially what one might call its sense of realism.

As she read, it felt less like a novel spun from imagination and more like an essay, calmly recounting personal experiences.

‘Though it can’t possibly be an essay.’

For an essay, the protagonist was far too much of an overpowered character.

He was cool, handsome, good-natured, and magnanimous, on top of being exceptionally talented and from a good family.

And yet, he was completely clean when it came to women.

He was loved by most people he already knew, and new acquaintances would also come to love or like him before long.

Of course, such a protagonist wasn’t rare.

In fact, protagonists in entertainment novels tended to lean heavily in this direction.

In male-oriented novels, any pretty female character was either the heroine or a potential love interest. In female-oriented novels, all the male characters were cool, handsome, capable, and from good families, yet they would become flustered and weak only before the ‘ordinary’ protagonist, begging for her love.

‘Right, he’s just a novel protagonist.’

Someone like that couldn’t possibly exist in real life.

In any case, while it wasn’t a masterpiece for the ages, it was undoubtedly a good work.

‘So let’s sign the contract today and publish it immediately.’

Her bag didn’t just contain the manuscript.

It also held a large number of contracts, prepared to be presented anytime, anywhere.

‘He should be here soon, though.’

Just as Kelly set down her teacup and took out her pocket watch, the door opened with the jingle of a bell, accompanied by a low murmur.

Why?

Kelly knew the moment she closed the watch and looked up.

Because some lunatic had just walked into the café.

‘Is he actually insane?’

His neat suit was impeccably tailored and stylish, but the problem was what sat on his shoulders.

A plain, jet-black mask with only eyeholes cut out.

That’s right.

The man was wearing a mask.

And not just any mask, but one with a long, large black cloth attached, likely intended to hide his hair as well.

Walking around on the street like that, and this wasn’t a masquerade ball?

He was, without a doubt, a lunatic.

‘Just pretend I don’t see him.’

Nothing good could come from making eye contact with a madman.

But she couldn’t.

Because that lunatic was walking toward her.

‘Wait, why is he coming to me? Hold on, don’t tell me…?’

It was exactly what she feared.

The lunatic stopped in front of her and spoke in an unnecessarily cool voice.

“Are you Kelly of Crimson Dawn?”

The surrounding murmurs instantly grew louder.

‘Ah, for fuck’s sake.’

She wanted to say no.

No, at the very least, she wished he had specified ‘Crimson Dawn Publishing House.’

Kelly of Crimson Dawn.

She had always found the company name a bit embarrassing, but at this moment, she genuinely wanted to strangle Ian—the president, her husband, and her childhood friend—who had named it.

“Are you not Kelly of Crimson Dawn?”

Startled by the unnecessarily cool voice that rang out above her again, Kelly fought back the urge to scream and said hurriedly,

“Th-that’s right. I’m Kelly from Crimson Dawn Pub-lish-ing. House.”

Whether her deliberate emphasis worked or not, she heard some understanding murmurs of “Ah…” from the crowd, but the faint laughter that followed made Kelly’s face burn even redder.

‘To hell with brand value. I’m changing the company name when I get back. I swear I will.’

Just as Kelly was hardening her resolve, the man spoke.

“You lack courtesy.”

“Pardon? Ah. I apologize. Please, have a seat.”

Reacting reflexively to the man’s still low and cool voice, Kelly shot up from her seat.

After all, she was in the wrong for having invited someone and just left them standing there.

“…Very well.”

The man took the seat opposite her, and Kelly thought,

‘Is he some kind of crazy role-player?’

The mask, the way he spoke, and even his voice, which sounded deliberately lowered, though admittedly cool.

‘He’s a madman.’

But she understood.

In this line of work, sane authors were the rare ones.

‘Although, he does seem a bit extreme, even among them.’

If he was truly, certifiably insane, she might have to reconsider the contract.

But it was also true that it was too early to jump to conclusions.

And so, like the seasoned editor, planner, and vice president she was, Kelly spoke in a graceful voice.

“Let me introduce myself again. I am Kelly, the vice president of Crimson Dawn Publishing House.”

“…I am Sanudil.”

The man spoke softly and ordered a black coffee from the approaching waiter. Instead of asking how a man in a mask intended to drink coffee, Kelly dove straight into discussing his work.

April 19th.

Upon returning from his outing, Kamael took a book out of the paper bag he was carrying.

Bildwein’s Heroic Saga Vol. 1 – The Beginning of Adventure.

Kamael gently caressed the golden letters embossed on the red cover, then glanced around once more before a small smile touched his lips.

He had spent his entire life looking at nothing but the sword.

His very moniker, the Sword Demon, was a testament to the life he had led.

For the first time in that life, he had produced something other than the sword.

And it was a story about the man he revered, Landius.

Kamael felt his heart pound anew.

He wanted to show it to someone and hear their thoughts.

‘Especially Landius.’

How would his friend react to this story?

Would he laugh heartily as always?

Would he say it was fun?

He was curious.

He wanted to show him.

But he couldn’t.

This story was about Landius and himself. If Landius, of all people, saw it, he might see right through to the truth.

‘I have to endure it.’

If Landius found out, then the two people who must never know—Lena and Fran—would also learn the truth.

No, before that, Kamael himself would surely die of embarrassment and shame.

But it was at that very moment.

“Bildwein’s Heroic Saga? Kamael, you read this kind of stuff?”

Lena, who had approached him without a sound, tilted her head and asked.

When had she gotten so close?

Did she use Blink?

No.

It was his own carelessness.

He had been so engrossed in the book that he hadn’t sensed Lena’s presence.

“Kamael?”

“…Sometimes. For leisure.”

“Heeh.”

Lena let out a small sound of surprise at his strained reply, and Kamael struggled mightily to maintain a calm expression.

This is embarrassing.

Humiliating.

And at the same time, he was a little angry.

This kind of stuff?

What’s wrong with it?

It’s a pretty great story.

Huh? What.

“Would you like to read it?”

Slightly provoked, Kamael spoke without thinking and immediately regretted it.

But Lena’s reaction was unexpected.

“Oh, is that okay? Didn’t you just buy it?”

“…I was planning to read it after training.”

“Oh… then I’ll read it. I was just thinking I wanted to rest my head a bit.”

“…Alright.”

After handing Bildwein’s Heroic Saga to Lena, Kamael quickly walked away.

He was afraid she would hear his pounding heart.

An hour later.

Kamael, who had been swinging his sword in the courtyard to calm his mind, stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyes.

Lena was sitting on the drawing-room sofa, reading Bildwein’s Heroic Saga.

What kind of expression is she making?

A sudden surge of curiosity prompted Kamael to approach cautiously, and soon he could see Lena’s profile, her expression incredibly serious.

‘What part is she reading?’

The moment Kamael’s gaze shifted toward the book, Lena looked up.

“Oh, Kamael, you’re back?”

Kamael remained silent for a moment.

Lena then pointed to the half-read book and said,

“This… is it okay if I finish it before giving it back? It’s gotten really interesting.”

“…Go ahead.”

At Kamael’s permission, Lena said thank you and began to turn the pages again.

And because of that, she didn’t see it.

She didn’t see Kamael’s cheeks flush a bright red, nor his perpetually stern lips curve into a pleasant arc.

“I’ve decided to become a devoted reader of Bildwein’s Heroic Saga. I’ve already bought the whole series.”

Twenty-some years later.

Lena, her face still beautiful, elegant, and lovely, spoke with sparkling eyes. Kamael replied in a strained voice.

“…Are you trying to kill me?”

“Whyyy, I’m a devoted reader. I’m a huge fan, Author-nim. You’ll accept my fan letters, right? Give me an autograph too. Please?”

Lena said, hugging Kamael’s arm and acting playfully cute.

How many on the continent knew that the lofty Holy Angel Lena could even act cute like this?

No, to begin with, for how many people did Lena act cute?

Landius and Kamael.

Just the two of them.

But instead of smiling pleasantly or feeling honored, Kamael looked down with cold eyes at his devilish little sister, whose pretty face was full of wicked smiles. Then, like the Sword Demon he was, he devised a fatal countermeasure.

“The next story will be about Jeina.”

“Huh?”

Jeina.

The true heroine of Bildwein’s Heroic Saga.

The character modeled after Lena Ainsberg.

“Look forward to it.”

With that short remark, Kamael executed an uncanny footwork technique, instantly putting distance between himself and Lena.

If he was caught anyway, he wouldn’t hide. He would use it as a counterattack.

The story of Jeina.

The story of a character Lena herself now knew very well was modeled after her.

And he told her to look forward to it.

He told her to look forward to it right when she was in the middle of teasing him.

“Kama…el?”

Lena called out, her voice laced with a hint of anxiety and caution, but Kamael neither answered nor looked back. Instead, he only quickened his pace.

“Kamael!”

As if to evade Lena, who was about to use Blink to catch up, Kamael broke into a sprint using his special footwork.

A small smile, if not a full-blown one, graced his face.

Sword Demon Kamael.

Author Sanudil.

Kamael smiled again.

No, he let out a small laugh.

Evading Lena’s pursuit, he began to write a new story on the manuscript paper in his mind.

fin

“Hey, is this… me?”

To Natasha’s question—she was the first new friend Kamael had made in a long time, and his second female friend after Lena—Kamael lifted his coffee cup instead of answering right away. After taking a sip, he said in that unnecessarily cool voice Kelly had once noted.

“Who knows.”

“What do you mean, ‘who knows’? I’m pretty sure this is me.”

A new, blonde-haired character had appeared in Bildwein’s Heroic Saga.

The fact that the character’s name was ‘Tanya’ was practically a confession.

But Kamael, his face still shameless, neither confirmed nor denied it as he drank his coffee. Natasha eventually let out a chuckle and began to flip through the book again, her eyes full of curiosity.

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Translated By: Meher (RaidenTL)

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