Chapter 48: Who Are You, Mister?

“I….”

…I couldn’t answer.

It felt as if my throat were blocked.

What should I say?

A young boy with light brown hair, the kind you could see anywhere.

Unable to look directly into those two eyes that sparkled like gold, I lowered my gaze.

I saw several bouquets of small, white flowers held in both his hands.

Common wild flowers.

Featureless and unremarkable.

Though it was only for a brief moment, relief and self-reproach surged through me simultaneously.

‘This child….’

I almost didn’t recognize him.

It’s been a long time, you’ve grown so much, I wanted to say.

But even that, I couldn’t bring myself to utter.

‘I….’

Wasn’t it to prevent such tragedies that I took up the sword?

My first wish was that no child would lose their parents as I had.

I hoped there would be no weaklings bullied by those in power.

I prayed for the end of unfairness.

I hoped that the courageous would receive the rewards their effort and passion deserved.

I wished for a world that was just and fair.

…But what was the reality?

The strong oppress and exploit the weak.

The wicked deceive and use the good to reap unfair profits.

Even the weak ostracize and despise those weaker than themselves.

A world where good intentions are repaid with evil deeds, and those who live uprightly are condemned as foolish and incompetent.

[You may think you can change the world with youthful vigor, but it is a wasted effort.]

Suddenly, I recalled the old words of my master.

What had I said back then?

But.

[If no one else does it, shouldn’t I at least try?]

Yes.

That was the only feeling I had.

Was the world any kinder back then?

Were there fewer evil people back then?

[I simply wanted to become someone wonderful.]

Someone wonderful.

When I first saw him, he had proudly declared himself a knight.

Yet in the end, he could no longer even use the expression “a wonderful knight.”

Had he become discouraged?

Or was it despair?

Or perhaps resignation?

…Or maybe he had simply been broken.

And so.

I hated to see him like that.

I wanted him to find strength.

I wanted to offer words of comfort—that it was okay, that he had done enough.

But.

At the time, I lacked the eloquence or the tact for such things.

So.

I told him that it was enough.

My face was hidden by my helmet, so I couldn’t see his, but he had shown bewilderment at my words.

[That is enough? Why?]

Unfortunately.

I couldn’t remember a single thing I said after that.

…Still.

I realized very clearly what I had to do now.

When I was a boy, simply following in his footsteps was overwhelming.

It was the only way to escape the pain.

In those moments of running toward a goal without a second thought.

I could somehow escape this uncontrollable, aching heart.

This heart-wrenching longing.

That was why I kept my distance from her.

How could someone as miserable as I could possibly make someone else happy, or dare to take responsibility for another?

Look only forward, you told me, Father. Mother.

But.

…How could that possibly be possible?

“Is this Grave Mound here the grave of your father and mother?”

Barely suppressing my trembling voice, I asked calmly and quietly.

“Yes.”

“How did they pass away?”

“…My father, while protecting the village. My mother… while trying to protect me….”

Even if they had managed to hold a weapon, it likely wouldn’t have been any better than swinging Farm Tools.

In their youth, they might have climbed mountains and played at being hunters, but by then, the most they could have done for hunting was setting traps.

And she….

“I heard it was an army. They took everything—the food in the village, the Farm Tools, and all sorts of supplies.”

“…….”

I had guessed as much from the traces.

To call it simple looting, they had scorched the entire village too meticulously.

Most of the survivors were either elderly or mere children.

Any young people who survived would have been taken away without exception as slaves or prisoners.

Since ransoms were unlikely, their fate was obvious.

Leaving behind the elderly and children was likely intended to burden the enemy’s domain with nuisances.

Just as a unit’s feet are held back by caring for the wounded on a battlefield, disrupting the operation of forces.

For a long time, I had wandered through all sorts of large and small battlefields in the vicinity.

I participated in proxy wars and fought dozens of duels.

Somehow, I survived.

My past efforts were not meaningless.

However, as my master said, that only applied to climbing the social ladder.

I thought that by ascending higher, I could change the world.

But to do so, one must sacrifice the present.

Kicking a comrade’s back and driving subordinates into the jaws of death.

Only by establishing “merit” and achieving “accomplishments.”

…Only then does the path appear.

I hated that, so I tried to lead from the front.

I only survived because my skills were guaranteed.

“What do you plan to do now?”

“I have to live.”

An obvious answer.

And yet, that obvious answer felt profoundly heavy.

“Just because the crops failed doesn’t mean we can stop farming, right?”

“That is… true.”

It is an obvious truth.

Why do I perceive this common sense, which they accept so naturally, as something so bleak?

Is there any meaning to it?

The dead do not return.

That which could not be protected does not return.

Only what was lost remains.

That emptiness.

There is simply no way to fill it.

“My father told me. That giving up is also a result of being arrogant and proud. That people only do that because they can still afford to eat and live.”

“……What?”

“He said it’s natural for things not to go well. That success and failure always go hand in hand. So, while we always pray for success, it can’t be helped if it doesn’t happen.”

“…….”

Is that so?

Is that the impression my master had of me?

I felt a sense of pity, but at the same time, gratitude.

Nevertheless, the child survived.

I thought everything had been lost.

But there was still something remaining.

“Was your name Luel?”

“Uh, do you know me?”

“How could I not? I remember vividly building this log cabin where your family lived when you were small, and running around the mountains and this area with your father and mother….”

“Oh, then are you the knight, mister?”

Knight.

I had forgotten.

The knight my master spoke of does not exist in this world.

Therefore, “knight” was nothing more than a word my master had invented.

“My father and mother told me. Mister, your name is Kariel, right? They said you would become a great knight. So I asked them. What is a knight? And they said….”

“One who overcomes the impossible.”

I began to speak as if possessed.

Then.

“One who can die for a noble ideal.”

The child continued.

And so, one after another.

“One who overcomes even unbearable pain.”

“One who knows how to reflect on and correct their own mistakes.”

“One who loves righteousness and goodness more than anyone.”

“One who decisively strikes down evil enemies.”

“And one who possesses the courage to run to the ends of the earth with dreams, love, hope, and faith.”

Truly.

It sounded like a dream.

My face was hidden by the helmet, but even now, that voice—the one my master used to recite with such confidence and boldness—remained so clear.

So vivid, flickering at the edges of my ears, in my mind.

“Then, Luel. Do you know what we must do now?”

“We have to rebuild the village. Before that, people will need time to soothe their grief. But more important than that is what we’ll eat tomorrow and where we’ll sleep. That’s what matters.”

The child listed the tasks logically and orderly.

The rain was still thin and frail.

But here, where there was no ceiling or roof, even this would be an adversity and a trial.

“Yes. You are right.”

The man, Kariel, nodded.

“Then, let us do what we must.”

Only then was the child able to place his bouquets upon the two graves.

Watching that tiny back sitting quietly in prayer, the man vowed, and vowed again.

For that was the only oath he could make before the two graves.

====

Time passed quickly.

Rebuilding the village and somehow solving the shortage of labor.

Kariel provided one of his two swords to be used in making Farm Tools.

Exercising the skills of his youth, he chopped and carried wood.

He built houses, however clumsily.

Fortunately, a few of the elderly had considerable expertise in such matters.

It was perhaps a stroke of luck that they were able to build sturdy wooden houses by carving and processing the timber, rather than simple log cabins.

He drove away bands of robbers who poked their heads in after a few days, wondering if there was anything left to steal.

A few vagrants joined in, glancing around tentatively.

I remember we endured terribly, except for the periods when we scoured the forest like fleas, peeling and eating tree bark as if relying on the grace of the woods.

Having fewer mouths to feed meant a shortage of labor, but everyone held on tenaciously.

By the time I could finally complain and think I could catch my breath, a whole year had passed.

Those who came to collect taxes tried to force it even after seeing the state of the village.

But Kariel firmly blocked them.

Perhaps his reputation wasn’t entirely meaningless, as they withdrew without further word.

However, the next time they visited, they would do so with intent.

So Kariel went to find the man who had been his former lord.

Since he was the lord of this area.

But he refused to meet Kariel.

Instead, he sent a unilateral notification that, considering the mess the village was in, he would exempt them from taxes for five years.

…Kariel wondered if that was really something to be grateful for.

He had hoped for at least some meager support, but when he returned to the village and delivered the news, everyone was overjoyed.

…He felt ashamed once again, but Kariel did not reveal these inner thoughts.

As the village achieved a bit of stability, the number of people eyeing it began to increase.

Some attempted blatant robbery.

Others infiltrated by pretending to be vagrants, and the number of people wishing to join the village while hiding their identities gradually grew.

Kariel resolved all of this without letting the damage spread.

Once, his master told him to possess both courage and wisdom.

And he remained faithful to that requirement.

Time passed again.

That year’s harvest was relatively bountiful.

The scale was small due to the lack of manpower, but that alone was enough for us to be satisfied.

Just looking at the golden fields made us feel full.

The child grew into a boy.

The village reached a size where they could clumsily organize a Vigilante Group.

Even if there weren’t even ten of them, it was still something.

Around that time, wandering merchants began to visit.

They didn’t come with the village as their destination, but stopped by as a waypoint; by providing the collected hides, we were able to exchange them for some Farm Tools and implements.

The merchant expressed his intention to return, promising to bring more abundance next time.

More time passed.

If we had been a bit more prosperous, I wondered if I should have gone to other domains to bring back the parents of the children.

As we gained a bit of leeway, such regrets washed over me.

But then, as if by a miracle, they escaped on their own and returned to the village, turning the entire place into a sea of tears.

The child, Luel, was genuinely happy seeing that sight.

But that day, he went to the Grave Mounds, which were barely holding their shape, and wept silently in the darkness where even the moon held its breath.

Several years passed like that.

About six years since he had vowed in his heart before the Grave Mounds.

The man who had dreamed of being a knight had become an ordinary villager.

And then.

A wandering priest asked if he could build a small church.

While he was staying and surveying the site for the church.

He suddenly died.

……And the plague began to spread.

The infectious disease swallowed the village in an instant, without warning.

For some reason, the news of the priest’s death spread even to neighboring villages.

Their village came to be called a land cursed by the Demon’s Curse.

Those who heard the news from somewhere—not a single soul extended a helping hand.

Even the servants of the Lord, the Sky God, who should have been the most benevolent.