Sword Pilgrim

Thump!

"Next."

“Ugh!”

As soon as he returned to the mansion, Callius started beating up the Sixth Squad.

“Useless bastards. How’re you going to break the empire’s spears if you can't even stand this much?"

“It’s because you’re too strong, Captain!”

“No, you’re too weak. Next!"

The members of the Sixth Squad came up to the sparring arena in groups of three and were promptly beaten up and knocked down.

But things weren’t all bad.

Their skills had at least reached a certain level.

‘They should be able to at least stand their ground even against the Golden Lion Knights.'

Members of the Sixth Squad were the recipients of a number of benefits, simply from having Callius as their captain.

They were only assigned simple tasks and could single-mindedly focus on training.

They didn’t get involved in the Church’s usual functions at all, to an extent where they might be called Callius’ exclusive bodyguards.

Because the pope trusted Callius, and had told Archbishop Alvato, newly appointed to the post, to not interfere with the Sixth Squad.

The Hero of National Salvation.

The Queensknight.

Being led by somebody with such nicknames made things convenient.

Not only that, their skills were improving by leaps and bounds with the techniques and training Callius had imparted to them.

The lieutenants, Diego and Joseph, had already broken through the lower stratum of knighthood and were now aiming for upper tier skills.

Of course, Callius wouldn’t hand off such knowledge easily.

He had to have enough confidence first that they were how his.

Most others of the Sixth Squad were also continuously gaining strength through training, so there was nothing else for Callius to do.

As long as they kept training like this, they’d naturally become stronger.

Of course, the TD potion also played a part, but to those not in the know, it could be chalked up to luck.

Although, the sounds coming out of their throats right now were quite revolting.

Thud! Bang! Crash!!

"Ahh!"

“P-, please, spare me!!”

“Ugggh! I’m-! I'm going to die!!"

Callius smiled softly as he looked at the scattered bodies of all the people he’d beaten black and blue.

“You weak bastards. Get some rest.”

Leaving their pained grans behind, Callius took the towel Orphin handed him.

“It was hard work.”

"Hmm. Have you made some progress?”

Looking at her, he could see that her divine power had stabilized.

She looked transformed, completely devoid of that little speck of anxiety.

“Yes, the path forward now seems in sight.”

“Good. Any problems with your work?”

“Bruns really was resourceful. He managed so many things on his own. It's honestly quite surprising.”

"Is that so…”

Bruns had now left the mansion.

After talking with the queen, Cedric, at her request, had gone to pick up the Bar Tribe of distant Barbareum, taking Bruns along with him.

Because Callius had requested it.

‘Bruns seems better suited for fists than swords.'

The man in question didn't have much talent to speak of in swordsmanship, so it was better for him to become a believer of the Twin Gods.

Cedric had taken up Callius’ request to turn the man useful.

“He handled a lot of sundry little details here and there, too.”

Cleaning and cooking for the whole mansion, managing everything in general, taking care of the necessary supplies for the Sixth Squad, and sometimes even claiming to be Callius’ exclusive driver – Bruns had always taken great care of Callius.

Not to forget the knights of the North, as well as Rivan and Rinney.

Even Emily. Bruns had been the one to take care of them all.

Come to think of it, Callius really couldn’t figure out how the man had juggled so many plates on his own.

‘He was useful.'

Now was too late to realize that, after his departure.

Bruns’ duties were now divided between Orphin, Allen, and Aaron.

Callius handed the towel back and went up to his office. Opening the window, he took in the panoramic view.

On one side, the squad members were groaning, and on the other side, Carradi's children were training.

They were the so-called ‘Jervain trainees’.

Callius had left things alone, yet their numbers had only grown, and they’d started to get better organized.

There was a rumour going around that the Jervain Training Center would send its three top students to the Royal Academy every year, but that was quickly becoming the truth.

Callius hadn't had such a thought before, but it wasn't a bad idea.

Because it wasn't a difficult task for him.

The gate of the mansion was guarded by the always-yawning Peter, Allen welcomed the visiting nobles, and Aaron managed the goods they sent.

Once the rumours began to circulate that the queen was studying swordsmanship from Callius, gifts were bound to come Callius’ way even if he didn’t solicit them.

Having more money was never a problem, so he didn't decline either.

Things were proceeding smoothly.

“Gregory, Dexter and the rest seem to be doing quite well too; so I should get ready soon.”

All the theory of the sword art had been conveyed to the queen. There was nothing more to teach her at this time. The queen had excellent comprehension, but her skills were slow to develop due to how few chances she had to have a bout.

Considering her position, there was not much that could be done.

So Callius wasn't planning to get involved.

‘Esther also left to search for holy relics.'

That was her first mission as a paladin.

She’d gone to look the sacred relics lost by the Church in the past. From the looks of it, she was thinking of visiting the holy places around the continent.

Callius didn't have to worry too much about this, since she was fated to succeed with ease.

This pilgrimage would catapult Esther up into the rank of Masters.

“And Bishop Milliman self-destructed.”

The leader of the extremist faction inside the Church of the Sword.

Once his conduct had been revealed by Orcal, the Church had locked him in a dungeon to rot.

The bishop also had some responsibility behind the recent fight with the empire; he’d fanned the flames behind the scenes. Although he’d been spared from the death penalty due to his erroneous beliefs that he’d been serving the kingdom and the Church, he wouldn’t see the light of day for the rest of his life.

“Time will take care of the rest, so now I have to do my own thing.”

It was truly time to leave.

“Are you really going?”

Orphin –

She was looking at me with a worried expression.

A knight who’d followed me all the way here from the frigid North.

But I couldn't help it either.

“It’s not a road that anyone can take. Before I am your master –”

I am a pilgrim.

I must go on a pilgrimage –

Until I find my sword.

I must climb through a hill of thorns, to test myself, and to endure the trials of my God.

“My pilgrimage is in itself a trial that God has given me, and a challenge that He has set for me. So I can't take you guys along."

To be honest, I couldn't afford to keep them safe along the way. The path ahead wouldn’t be that easy.

I did get the Light Dragon Sword, but I wasn’t planning to make a sheath for it.

Not only did it not fit my intentions, the Light Dragon Sword didn't need a sheath in the first place.

The wielder’s heart itself was its scabbard.

It was a fairly unique one among the vision swords for that reason.

Besides –

‘I haven't decided yet.'

What would my sword be like?

Which sword should I put into my soul?

A sword not rooted in faith would be weak and fragile.

A sword was no mere tool.

That was what I’d felt ever since I’d reached this world.

“Where’s Emily? Still at the Academy?”

“I called her yesterday, so she should be here soon.”

"I see."

Fine then.

I finished the last items on my checklist and walked into the mansion, to my office.

There was already somebody waiting for me there, sitting on the sofa.

“You’re here?”

“Genos.”

A scion of the East –

Genos von Gradas.

“What’s going on?”

“I come bearing gifts.”

"Gifts?"

“Here. Take it.”

He handed me a small box taken out from his bosom.

Opening it, I found cookies inside.

“?”

“Prine’s cookies. Didn’t you want them? They were hard to get.”

"Hmm… Did you notice?”

“It would’ve been hard not to.”

I tasted a cookie.

Crunch.

The texture was incredibly crispy, yet it quickly crumbled and melted in my mouth.

The sweetness of the thin spread of cream inside seemed to coat the tongue in honey.

“It’s delicious.”

Really, Prine's cookies lived up to their name.

With one cookie you could win a kingdom's heart…

"Eh?"

When I woke up from my musings, there were no more cookies left in the box.

“…?”

The culprit was still chewing.

Seeing his expressionless face with his mouth open and occasional mumbling, a sense of absurdity won out over anger.

“…”

Wasn’t this nonsense?

Why did he snatch up and eat his own gift… I was too nonplussed to make an issue of it.

As I stared at him with dumbfounded eyes, Genos the Thief slowly turned his head.

“You’re leaving, right?”

Changing the topic now?

Not even in the mood to quarrel, I answered emotionlessly.

“Yeah.”

"Hmm."

Genos fell silent for a while.

He only scratched the stigma on the bridge of his nose.

He knew what a shameful act he’d just committed. The bastard coughed and continued talking.

“The Golden Lion asked me to say hello.”

“Is he alright?”

“Losing to his younger brother was a definite shock. But he’ll get over it. Lions aren’t that fragile.”

I’d heard the news of Ruen losing to his brother.

Lutheon's growth was faster than expected.

But it didn’t matter.

Because Ruen had survived, and had also grown equally.

Lutheon was a genius who’d been recognized by the Church in the past.

His potential for growth was nothing short of outstanding.

Given enough time, he would definitely have a seat among the Masters.

“How long are you going to be away?”

“Three years or so.”

“Hmm, that’s pretty long.”

“The kingdom will be fine.”

Rumors were already circulating that Gregory and Dexter were producing high-quality carcasses.

There was still no news about my broken sword, but I didn't care.

Not having my sword repaired wouldn’t be the end of the world.

‘I’ve given them all the hints they need.'

The rest was up to them to figure out.

“The students at the Academy admire you. Many were looking forward to your instruction. There’s no shortage of people who want to emulate the swordsmanship of a hero.”

I shook my head.

Genos was telling me to come back quickly.

In a roundabout way, by asking me to come back and teach the students at the Academy swordsmanship, he was asking me to hurry up and finish my pilgrimage.

I asked why, even though I thought I already knew the reason.

“Do I smell?”

"Very strongly."

Genos' eyes narrowed.

The Gradas nose was not ordinary.

They could smell what others could not.

“The stench of death is coiling around you.”

“Death is the constant companion of a knight. That applies even more for pilgrims.”

“Don’t die. I don't want to talk to a guy who doesn't keep his promises."

“I don’t disagree.”

Tock.

As Genos and I shook hands, I heard a knock.

“Count. Young Lady Emily's…”

Genos looked at the door and trembled.

His cheeks were flushed.

“?”

And Orphin frowned.

There seemed to be some connection between them.

At a guess, his habit of falling in love at the drop of a hat[1] had struck again. But it wasn't my problem.

“Let’s go.”

"Yes."

Genos stayed rooted in place until Callius left with Orphin, closing the door behind him. Then he blushed again, harder.

“Is this… destiny?”

And he began spouting bullshit.

The dining room of the mansion.

Emily and Callius sat at opposite ends of the long table.

Slice, slice.

The father and daughter cutting the steak on their plates looked so alike they could be each other’s mirror image.

The act of stabbing a piece of meat with a fork and putting it in your mouth to savour it couldn't look any more noble.

The dignity and mannerisms of the aristocracy were in full display.

“Emily.”

"Yeah."

Callius put down his knife and fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“I’ll be away for a while.”

There was a momentary silence.

Emily also set down her tableware.

“… I understand, Dad. You’re a pilgrim after all.”

Callius had been feeling a little concerned.

But looking into Emily's eyes, it seemed that there was no need to worry anymore.

He’d been worried that she might try following him like she’d done in the North.

But this time, she seemed to know what his words meant.

"I'll wait."

Grind.

Her words came slowly, haltingly, as if she was pondering and forcing out every single syllable.

Callius chuckled.

A child who didn't want to be separated from her parent was struggling and trying to understand.

He’d thought she was very mature, but Emily was still young.

“It’ll take a long time.”

"How long…?”

A period of over three years.

It was a really long time for a child.

However, this was an unavoidable choice.

Callius had to get stronger.

This pilgrimage would take him along a different path compared to all his journeys before.

An infinitely more dangerous one.

But only by triumphing over danger could he become strong.

By turning each crisis into an opportunity.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s a secret.”

Emily pouted, puffing her cheeks.

But she didn't ask any more.

Callius finished the meal with a smirk and began drinking tea along with Emily.

That same bland tasteless tea that was Emily’s trademark.

It felt like he’d miss it quite a bit.

A wet morning.

The sky just before sunrise was still half-covered in shadow, and thick fog covered the land.

Callius was riding a horse. With the [Saddle of Humasys] under him, he was quite well-versed in horseback riding, after all.

He’d already said his goodbyes.

It didn’t suit his personality to make a spectacle out of his departure.

So he’d decided to leave quietly.

"I'll wait for you."

"Peter. Please don’t let her leave.”

“Leave it to me.”

Even if he had to risk his life, he’d make sure.

Peter looked at Callius’ back for a long time as the man slowly drove his horse into the mists and disappeared.

“What would you like to do now?”

Peter turned his head and looked at a tree in the corner. Then the young mistress of the Jervain family slowly stepped out from behind it.

She’d heard of their conversation.

She’d grown up without a father since childhood, and the father she somehow barely met had left her immediately. So she’d chased him here, but after a while, he left again.

For a normal girl, it wouldn't be strange to stay locked up inside her room, with tears in her eyes.

But not Emily.

“I’ll get stronger.”

"Oh?"

“I thought Dad doesn’t need to get any stronger, but he went on a pilgrimage.”

That was the crux of the issue.

Callius had already made a big splash on the national stage. Somebody else might’ve chosen to settle down and eat snacks every day.

But Callius left.

There was a reason why he had to become stronger.

Emily noticed that.

“He’s a man who never does anything useless.”

A person who always did what he had to, without fail.

The Callius that Emily saw was like that. If such a person acted, there had to be a reason behind it.

“So I’ll become strong.”

Emily finished her words and turned back, clutching her sword.

A father and a daughter who’d started walking different paths, but with the same destination.

At the sight, Peter's lips curved up in a pleased arc.

Editor's Notes:

[1] 금사빠 (geumsabba), somebody who falls in love easily. Serial… well, not philanderer. Maybe serial hapless romantic in this case?