Chapter 13: Look at Me. Look at Me

The heat flooding my head was far from cooling; instead, it was boiling more violently.

Even so.

I hadn’t completely cast reason aside.

It was just that…

‘What’s the harm in struggling a bit?’

I had endured, and endured, and continued to endure.

…And until this very moment, what had I actually gained?

In reality, nothing.

There was nothing.

All that remained were wounds and scars.

They were invisible to the eye.

That was likely why the perpetrators continued their acts without a shred of remorse.

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

She was just as agitated, but for the simple reason that she held a sword—even if it wasn’t a real sword—her demeanor shifted instantly.

“Take this.”

Before her voice, laced with coldness, could even reach my ears.

Her silhouette vanished as if scattering into the air.

‘?!’

If I waited to see and then react, it would be too late.

Instinctively, I tilted the swords in both hands and braced myself to the right.

Clack!

The sound of the collision, far more intense than one would expect from wood hitting wood, struck my eardrums first.

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

“Ugh!”

“Are you being pushed back by something like this?! Grip your strength! Hold your ground more fiercely!”

It was unfair.

She possessed the privilege of being able to use Mana to strengthen her body as a matter of course.

But what about me?

‘I told you, it’s meaningless.’

A momentary resistance, a brief struggle—that was possible.

But that was all.

Clack!

Even while she was this angry, I could blatantly feel that she was holding back, carefully measuring her strength.

“Your reaction is slow! Do you intend to just stand there and take it?!”

“…….”

It was a futile provocation.

I knew better than anyone that just because my head was heating up, it didn’t mean strength that wasn’t there would suddenly appear.

Furthermore.

…I had no decisive move.

Nor did I have a hidden trump card.

‘…….’

But.

That wasn’t a reason to avoid the confrontation.

That didn’t give me a justification to suppress my rage.

Must the weak, the frail, shut their mouths, cast their eyes down, and endure humiliation in its entirety?

Just like a mute, like a blind man.

Must they blindly endure and accept absurd and irrational insults?

Meaningless slander and condemnation?

There is no freedom for those who do not resist.

And certainly no rights.

Despite knowing that so well.

Why hadn’t I struggled until now?

“……!”

…Because it was meaningless.

Because doing so only resulted in greater losses.

Because my mind understood that, because the calculation was too clear.

…Closing my eyes, plugging my ears, giving up on thinking.

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

Like a rotten old tree, like a shriveled weed.

Silently enduring was the most I could do.

If there was a single shred of hope in that.

It was.

…The vow that one day, I would leave this place.

The conclusion I reached after years of layers piling up.

That was the only hope granted to me.

My sole lifeline.

“How long do you think you can hold out?! If you don’t face the enemy! If you don’t attack, the enemy will neither retreat nor turn away!”

Futile words.

Truly useless preaching.

No, at this point, it was nothing more than slander, mockery, and contempt.

But so what?

I was used to being beaten.

And even more used to the shame that came with it.

In mock duels, it was always me rolling miserably on the ground.

As my eye level dropped, the countless gazes looking down on me from above…

…were far too familiar.

Therefore, being beaten, enduring, and sprawling out as if playing a trick.

I was so familiar with it that I was sick of it.

I had even adapted to that.

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

Crack!

The wooden sword I was blocking could not withstand the impact and cracked, digging in halfway.

The fact that it didn’t shatter or snap was likely intentional on her part.

She was skilled enough to manage that.

“Take up a new sword.”

“…….”

Not at all.

As if rebelling against those words, I instead flung the wooden sword away.

“What do you think you’re doing right now?”

“Why? Is fighting bare-handed too burdensome?”

“Stop with the pathetic provocations. You’re in such a state even when holding a sword; do you think that attitude is even appropriate right now?”

“Do you think in a real fight, they’ll wait for you to find another weapon if your sword snaps? My, what a grand display of chivalry we have here.”

“……How far do you intend to degrade yourself?”

Degrade? Give me a break.

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

“Kariel—! You really! There are things a person can say, and things they cannot!”

Why….

Why was she angrier than I was?

She wasn’t the one being insulted.

Moreover, the target of the sarcasm was that man, my father.

Kariel replied, biting his lip.

“You said you’d fix my mindset? Were those just words? You too? If that’s what a knight is, why don’t you just go farm or chop wood for a living?”

“Do not… regret this.”

Ah.

I could feel the phrase ‘skin crawling.’

As if slicing through the skin and even the muscles.

That intense rage reached me with a tangible weight, sinking deep into my bones.

But why?

‘That.’

It wasn’t that great.

At the very least, that wasn’t bloodlust.

It clearly didn’t feel like the momentum or will of someone intending to kill.

However, it was all too obvious that there would be no forgiveness or mercy.

With a single stomp, the ground cracked miserably like a dense spiderweb.

Kicking off the earth, she surged forward, bringing a violent gale with her.

With speed and momentum incomparable to before.

And yet.

“?!”

I evaded by a hair’s breadth.

The following consecutive strikes.

Evaded by a thread-like difference. Narrowly evaded again.

The wooden sword struck my hair.

But it didn’t even graze my scalp, let alone shake my skull or brain.

The wooden sword sliced through the air with a fierce whistling sound.

But it didn’t reach.

It wouldn’t reach.

All by a hair’s breadth.

It continued in succession.

Slightly.

Occasionally it hit my skin, leaving it red and scratched; some parts were peeled and cut by the aftereffects of the swings, and blood flowed steadily from the wounds.

But.

None of them led to a fatal blow.

“…….”

Perhaps this should be touching.

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

And so I realized.

I became acutely aware of it.

A grating metallic friction sounded in my mind like a curse.

Screeech—!

Miserable.

That emotion materialized and crushed my heart.

For years, rolling and rolling.

Striving, suffering, and suffering more.

Chewing over regrets and using them as fuel to grip the sword, using inferiority as a whip to swing the sword, circulating and utilizing Mana, racking my brain to fill and supplement what was lacking.

I had truly, truly employed every possible method.

And yet.

In just this short amount of time since I met the Demon King, invited death, vowed, and endured.

…I was somehow responding to an offense that I had believed I could never oppose in my entire life.

‘Ha!’

Of course.

A counterattack was impossible.

Switching to an offense was absolutely out of the question.

Even now, I was as precarious as someone balancing on a tightrope with one foot.

The countless Arrow Barrage ruthlessly targeted my entire body.

Until I became the target and collapsed.

It continued to pour down and pierce through.

Also.

The disaster of heavy-armored cavalry rushing in like a sandstorm, like a tidal wave, was an ordeal that could not be endured bare-bodied.

But that wasn’t the end.

Occasionally being struck or trampled by the feet of giant monsters.

Being swarmed by beasts, sprawled out while my entire body was torn and ripped apart.

Being cut, stabbed, and beaten by armed forces rushing in from all sides.

Dying, dying, and dying again.

In the end, all I gained was.

…Just struggling to survive a little longer.

But that had a clear limit.

‘Evading isn’t enough.’

I know.

I know all too well.

But the Demon King declared he would not tell me the way.

He dismissed me, telling me to find the way myself, to prepare the means.

‘You said you’d regret it, right? You should have taken it promptly when I offered it out of kindness.’

Do I regret it?

Or do I resent him?

‘Don’t make me laugh.’

Regret—I don’t know since when.

But at least until this moment, every single thing that passed through my life since birth was a regret.

There was a time in the past when I mistakenly thought I was great, that I was something special.

Even that is now a faint fragment I can barely remember.

In the end, reality was miserable, cheap, and filthy.

All that remained for me was….

A wretched pride, broken, shattered, and cast aside.

Crack!

“?!”

As if waiting for this exact moment.

Toward the wooden sword thrusting in a straight line, Kariel opened his palm wide and caught it.

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

In that state, he instead pushed his palm forward and instantly gripped the wooden sword tightly.

“W-what are you—?!”

“Grit your teeth.”

Before she could even give a warning.

His opposite fist was already slamming into Patina’s face.

Crack!

“Guh!”

A knight, by nature, does not let go of their sword even if they die.

“A-are you insane?!”

No words were needed.

The first punch may have landed because she was flustered, but the second would not work.

Judging that it was too late to block with her remaining hand, she used her wit to take the punch with her forehead.

As expected, Kariel’s weak, watery punch was miserably scattered, like seawater hitting a reef.

However.

Undeterred, Kariel swung his fist again.

“Kh?!”

Her gaze wavered.

Was it bewilderment at the state Kariel had made of his own hand, or was it fear?

That bewilderment allowed Kariel two, then three opportunities to attack.

But that was all.

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

What was surprising here was.

After catching and then missing Kariel’s ruined fist, she used her open, shocked mouth to snag it.

Then, she flipped Kariel over with her entire body.

‘This is….’

Ridiculous.

What is this?

It felt as if I were falling forward following her body, but suddenly my body flipped and collided with the ground.

The impact transmitted from my back immediately pierced my internal organs, including my heart and lungs.

“Cough!”

As my breath hitched, my consciousness momentarily faded.

It was a complete mess.

My left palm was ruined, pierced by the wooden sword, and because of the swing just now, my arm joint was not just twisted but snapped.

Because I had been thrown and collided with the ground, I couldn’t even breathe properly, and due to the aftermath of being hit and bitten, my right hand’s fingers and wrist were a wreck.

Even so, is being used to pain this miserable?

Even in this state, I struggled to push myself up.

Using the wooden sword that passed through my palm as a support, and using my snapped left arm joint as a brace, I tried to raise my body somehow.

Then, a surge of agony rushed in—a pain so intense that gritting my teeth against the desperate suffering was not enough.

“Aaaaaagh—!”

Rolling and flailing on the ground.

Still, I did not give up.

Absurdly.

In the midst of this pain.

I, most absurdly of all.

…Was on the verge of tears, not from sadness, but from an overflowing sense of liberation I had never experienced before.

The sky was dark, and even the moon was meager, but the starlight alone was brilliant.

The air was cold yet hot, my whole body felt as if it were burning, and even the blowing wind was faint.

But in all of that.

At this moment, I felt no resentment, no hatred, and no absurdity whatsoever.

‘Ah….’

Drip, drop. From my left hand, whether it was blood, flesh, or fragments.

Something continued to fall and pour onto the ground.

Even so, not at all.

Without fear, without regret, without sorrow.

I was drenched in a base sense of satisfaction.

…Had I been crazy all along?

Or.

“Now! What! What on earth are you doing?!”

At that voice, I snapped awake.

“Patina! Kariel! You two… what on earth is this….”

Ah.

Mother.

Look at me.

I did it.

That genius who entered the Knight Order led by my father at the youngest age.

I….

‘Gave her a taste of her own medicine.’

Her—my mother’s—expression became truly miserable.

In the distance, Patina’s expression was similarly stained with desperation.

At this.

I let out a quiet, joyful laugh.

A smile, a laugh, leaked out naturally.

I couldn’t hold it back.

Even the pain was joyful, even the agony was pleasant.

However, this ecstasy would only be brief.

In the end, all of this would lead to their condemnation of my wretched self.

But what of it?

Ah, it doesn’t matter.

Anyway, I.

……Before long.

Was a being who would vanish from this place forever.

With an unknown sense of relief and achievement.

I was finally able to laugh out loud.

On that particular day.

The moonlight I looked up at was meager.

But the starlight spread wide and was infinitely brilliant.