Sword Pilgrim - Chapter 36

“Callius? Callius, is that you?”

I was wandering around looking for beasts to test Loas out on a bit more.

When I heard a certain name, I looked around and saw a gaggle of Knights approaching, led by one with dark hair and gray eyes.

‘Who is it?’

While I was bewildered, the one at the forefront spoke to me with a smile.

“I’d hoped to meet you here. Callius. Don’t you remember me? It’s Zornik. Don’t say you can’t remember Zornik, the Mighty?”

Zornik.

I remembered hearing it somewhere.

Callius’ memories flashed through my head in an instant.

Zornik von Jervain.

A Knight of Jervain famed for his inborn supernatural might.

One of Callius’ cousins.

A named in most routes.

‘You’re the one who loved to stamp on Callius.’

Zornik was three years older than Callius, and they’d grown up together since childhood. But he was often dissatisfied with the gap between the collateral family lines and the direct one.

So, knowingly or unknowingly, he often insulted or slandered Callius while pretending to be friendly.

He had a record of breaking Callius’ arm using a practice duel as an excuse, so their relationship was pretty much the worst.

However, their respective reputations were poles apart, so Callius could only be humiliated by Zornik every time.

‘It’s not my own memory, but it’s still annoying.’

Because he was a source of trauma for Callius, my judgement became complicated.

My eyes kept falling down and my hearbeat was erratic.

Regardless of my own intentions, I kept making these gestures.

A combination of Callius’ instinctive rejection and fear for the man in front of me.

“It’s been a long time. How sad I was that you left the family.”

“…”

Ignoring Zornik’s attempt at a handshake, I put my left hand on Lucen’s handle.

Behind him were the Knights of Jervain who followed him.

About ten people.

He wasn’t on a horse, and seeing them here in the forest, they seemed to be carrying out a separate mission.

“What’s going on?”

“Haha, you’re being so cold. I’m here on the order of the Patriarch. Hey, hey, there’s no need to be so on guard. It’s just us here.”

‘It’s tough.’

Because my body was that of Callius.

Interacting with Zornik was particularly awkward.

I didn’t really like his friendly tone, or his relaxed behaviour.

Rather, I felt an impulse to pull out Loas and turn him into a sword.

And then break that sword and throw it into a mound of shit.

“Ttt.”

But the war was about to begin in earnest.

There was nothing to be gained from killing him.

Zornik was still lacking, but as time passed, he would become a strong Knight for the North, and for Carpe.

Considering the future, it was better to spare him.

“It’s no big deal. As you know, the overall situation is not that good, so the Patriarch told me to come find Master Bernard ​as soon as possible.”

“Bernard?”

Were the Family Head and Bernard that close? This was my first time hearing this.

I’d never heard of a route where the Family Head and Bernard get closer, but this world was not just a game.

“Do you know where Master Bernard is?”

“Follow me.”

He must want to take Bernard with him to Jevarsch.

Then there’s no reason to hide.

It was quite awkward dealing with Zernik, but it would be safer to accompany him, because who knew what kind of danger lurked on the path to Jevarsch.

“Yeah, I’m glad. I came here looking for traces of Master Bernard, but the trail was cut off here at this mountain. But to think I’ll meet you here…”

I could feel him stroking his chin and looking at me with strange eyes.

His gaze moved up and down, scanning me from head to toe.

It was kind of creepy.

“I heard that you became a Pilgrim… but your strength hasn’t changed that much compared to when you were young.”

‘It’s because of the artifact.’

Most of the spirit power that had risen to level 3 was abosorbed by the bracelet.

If not, he would have felt it right away.

However, there were thorns hidden in his words.

Something like, even if you’ve become a Pilgrim, you’re still at the same level as when you were young.

Knights measure an opponent’s strength by their aura.

Roughly, the magnitude of the spiritual force.

So, that was to say –

‘He’s looking down on me.’

It was only natural.

Somebody you had been tormenting you since childhood became a Pilgrim and you two met by chance, but there was no difference in his strength?

Naturally, he treated the other as somebody inferior to him, and behaved in a relaxed manner.

“How have you been? Still, when we were young, I called you bro. Why are you so cold to me now, bro?”

Tuk, tuk. He lightly punched me in the shoulder with his fist.

But there’s a difference between being relaxed and being rude.

I felt that this needed to be emphasized.

So, I broke his arm.

“Hey, hey. Callius. It hurts, dude.”

Zornik still had a smile on his face, but the aura he exuded told a different story.

His eyes were bloody, and his momentum sharp as a needle, as if he would draw his sword any moment.

Zornik and I stopped, still on the forest path. Bruns, as well as the Knights following Zornik, became serious.

The Knights grasped the hilts of their swords, and Bruns also grabbed his dagger and kept a close eye on the situation.

‘I don’t know if it’s an effect of Callius’ personality or an effect of the trait.’

But whatever it was, I was very angry right now.

Callius’ memories. Those emotions make my blood boil.

It’d been a very long time.

It felt like I’d gone back to the time when I was still the maniac of Jervain.

So, I couldn’t stand it.

Kiiiing.

My sword was vibrating as if to escape its scabbard.

The flow of air.

Zornik’s pulse.

Time slowed down to the ponderous speed of a glacier.

My sword sprang forwards, along the optimal path, pointing towards the neck of the man opposite me.

The first destination was his carotid artery.

The ultimate goal was to cut off this bastard’s head.

During that brief instant, the Peak Flower in my Elixir Field doubled my strength, and that pure divine power flowed through Loas generating sword energy.

Like the petals had huddled together, it was a strange sword.

However, this was still the Silver Flower Wave Sword art. One wouldn’t notice its sharpness unless they observed closely, but it had enough destructive power to destroy even the sword of the opponent.

“Look out.”

Chaeeeeng –!

The throbbing feeling running down his fingertips made Callius’ lips twitch.

Fragments of sword energy fluttered around him like petals.

His sword had been blocked.

But it wasn’t Zornik’s sword that did so.

Unlike his red sword, the other sword that one surrounded by blue lightning.

Thunderbolt Sword – Rakan. It was Bernard’s sword.

“Callius. Stop playing around. How old are you now?”

He’d drawn his sword like lightning.

Yet, Callius’ Loas was blocked by Bernard before it could reach Zornik’s neck.

Ttt. Callius clicked his tongue and spat out a senseless excuse.

“… I just wanted to check my skills once.”

He wondered how this old man had known to arrive just in time.

Dururuk, tak.

Callius, who had sheathed Loas, seemed to have lost interest, and headed back towards the smell of grilled meat wafting from the camp.

“You, too, come along. There should be enough for a spoonful, haha.”

Bernard couldn’t help but smile when he saw a bead of sweat on Zornik’s face.

Near the hut, the Knights were busy grilling meat and making soup.

They were also cutting wood to make the bowls and the cutlery, and everyone was running around in a hurry.

“Callius! You’re back?”

“Your food’s already done, master Callius! Have a seat here!”

“Callius! Where have you been? Why did you not tell me where you were going!”

“Well, Bruns.”

“Here I am, master.”

“Don’t ignore me!”

After pushing away the nagging Emily, Callius was handed a knife and fork and started eating the horse meat in a refined manner.

“Not bad.”

Callius just kept ignoring Emily’s endless chatter. And amongst all that, there was a man looking at him with strange eyes.

Zornik, of Jervain.

It was Zornik von Jervain.

‘I can feel that his aura hasn’t changed much from before…’

That instant when Callius had explosively drawn his sword was still etched vividly in his mind.

Zornik grabbed the bowl of soup handed to him with one hand, and stroked his neck with the other.

‘If Master Bernard hadn’t stopped him…’

Gulp.

The hair that had stood up on the back of his neck still showed no sign of calming down.

Besides, the power that broke his wrist the first time.

That strength, too, was quite different from before.

Did it mean that the guy who had been a hothouse flower all his childhood had now become a full-fledged swordsman?

‘Still, if it’s a proper fight, I’ll win.’

He was called the Zornik the Mighty. To be honest, he only got so flustered because he had no idea that Callius would suddenly draw the sword in the first place. However, in a proper fight, would Callius be able to handle his inborn supernatural might?

Zornik had overcome many crises throughout his life with his inborn supernatural might.

He was proud of it as his shining brilliance. And, born of Jervain’s bloodline, he also took special pride in swordsmanship.

If we fight again…

Zornik’s eyes narrowed.

He looked at the pair of swords laid down on the root of a nearby tree. A medium-sized broadsword[1], and a giant greatsword.

They were the swords used by Zornik, who was proud of his inborn physical might.

He could use either of them to crush most other swords with simple strong force.

They were swords that he’d normally be proud of, except…

‘Callius. His sword was red and marked with strange patterns.’

The sword itself had a strange shape, but it was definitely a red sword.

A Pilgrim would never dare carry such a sword just to show off.

‘A Spirit Sword…’

The meaning of that red blade must be that the sword’s spirit has awakened.

Greed flashed in Zornik’s eyes.

“Teacher.”

“Now you call me teacher.”

After finishing their meals, Callius and Bernard made their way through the woods, quietly conversing while they watched Zornik move ahead.

“He was looking at my sword with covetous eyes.”

“I know. But that’s expected from a swordsman. You, too, coveted my Rakan.”

“Rakan is my sword anyhow.”

“This crazy guy…”

Bernard clicked his tongue and then shook his head.

“Well… but it can’t be helped. I don’t know about before, but things are different now.”

The road to Jevarsch would be very different from before.

A large army of Orcs would be blocking their way, so if you made a single mistake, you might get caught by your ankles and drown in enemies.

So, the more people there were, the better, and Zornik’s mission to come find Bernard was issued by the Family Head.

Since it was an order from Count Jervain, they couldn’t just tell him to go back, and there was no profit in sending him back.

“And in this kind of situation, will he really try to take your sword? It’s not like you don’t know this, but you wave your sword around like a crazed murderer.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“What I mean is that you have a real hair-trigger temper.”

That was really rude, but Callius had to admit there was a little truth to it. It was difficult for him to hold back his rage when memories of the past came to his mind.

‘If we go to Jevarsch, it wouldn’t end with just this…’

Jevarsch was the centrepiece of all of Callius’ trauma. And if the traits of a maniac scapegrace and an aristocrat acted in concert, things were only going to get worse.

Affected by his traits and his trauma, he’d really behave like a maniac.

Callius hated Jevarsch from the bottom of his heart.

“Teacher.”

“What is it this time?”

“What do you think happens when a maniac gets his hands on power?”

“Then he will not be a maniac anymore.”

If not a maniac, then what?

“Then what?”

“He will become an icon.”

Icon?

“Have you finally gone senile in your old age? Do you become an icon just because you’re strong?”

“Old age, hah! Hey, you idiot. Think about it a little. If you cut off one or two heads, you’re just a murderer, but if you take hundreds or thousands of lives with your sword, what are you?”

“A mass murderer?”

“No. People will throw stones at murderers, but when you become a killer at that large a scale, they will be terrified. Fear alone will become a powerful force that will make them admire you.”

If it goes on a little further, the name of the killer will become enshrined in legend.

“If the killer’s sword is directed at a common enemy, he will no longer be called a killer, but a hero. This is usually the case with war heroes.”

So.

“If you can, try and become a hero. If that happens, even if you kill hundreds of Knights like that Zornik…”

There will be no one to badmouth you.

“Are you really a teacher? You’re encouraging your disciple to kill someone.”

“And here I was giving this wharf roach some honest advice…”

Callius raised the corners of his lips, with a rare sense of satisfaction.

“I don’t know what you’re planning, but whatever you do, wait for the right time.”

The war in the North has just begun.

“Yes, I will.”

And exactly four days later –

Callius beheaded Zornik.

Editor’s Notes: