Chapter 36: The Sword That Denies Fate

Anplus clenched his teeth the moment he heard those words.

All of it.

I thought I had forgotten everything.

He had no intention of forcibly recalling the memories of his previous life.

In this world where magic could overturn mountains and rivers, nothing particularly useful came to mind.

But the more fundamental reason was that he simply did not want to change this world.

Rather than changing the world, Anplus wanted to melt into it.

“I saw your previous life. You were better than most peers who started from similar positions, but you were not an extraordinary man. You could not compete with those born with innate talent or under capable parents. You knew that yourself, and you were not angry about it.”

Lobigos wore an expression that said he understood Anplus perfectly.

Anplus forced strength into his trembling legs.

“In this life, from the moment you were born, you had everything as a direct pureblood. That Argantius cherished you excessively, didn’t he? You grew up hearing that he would make you the next Emperor.”

“Shut your mouth.”

“You lost everything in the winter when you turned fifteen and became an ordinary man worse than in your previous life. In noble society, ordinary is no different from incompetent.”

“I told you to shut your mouth.”

“Was that why you picked up the sword? Were you glad to find talent that still remained? Did you try to reclaim with strength what you lost? Don’t be mistaken. You never once possessed it to begin with.”

You never once possessed it.

Hearing those words, Anplus recalled the memory Lobigos had read last.

A memory he had left abandoned on the floor for so long.

“The young master is not unable to use magic because of weak will.”

In the winter when he turned fifteen, an unprecedented incident occurred: the heir of the family could not manifest magic.

Of course, it did not simply end with failure right there in the hall.

For dozens of days afterward, he was surrounded by the pureblood blue-bloods of the house and subjected to countless examinations and tests.

And the conclusion they reached—Lobigos had just seen it.

One. The cause is not weak will.

Two. The exact cause is unknown, but it is highly likely a combination of factors.

Three. It is possible he was simply born without the trait entirely.

At that time, Anplus had thought:

They sure take a long way to say my life is ruined.

“I was truly surprised. Who would have thought you were born without the trait at all?”

Lobigos said with a smile as bright as a silver moon.

The long slit corners of his mouth made him look exactly like a clown.

Anplus gritted his teeth and assumed a thrusting stance.

Left foot forward, grip with both hands, the sword pressed tight against his side and aimed straight ahead.

It was a perfect posture straight out of a textbook.

Yet Lobigos neither retreated nor fled, nor did he beg for his life.

It was not the attitude a mage with no killing ability should take in front of a knight who had sliced apart dozens of monsters resembling ancient beings.

Realizing that, Anplus immediately thrust his sword.

There’s no need to give him time to reveal whatever hidden card he has.

The sharp tip of the blade shot like wind toward Lobigos’s heart.

If the man had not suddenly staggered, it would have pierced clean through his chest.

“What magic did you use?”

It felt as though unnatural weights had been attached to his limbs.

It was a strange way to put it, but it was like massaging his right arm with his right arm, or both arms shoved into a single sleeve—awkward.

“It’s difficult to dominate a knight with mental strength like yours, but there exists magic that can be cast without breaking the mind.”

Lobigos said while hiding his now-trembling hand behind his back.

It was the final technique that had protected him, a man with no killing ability, until now.

“Sensory Assimilation. Ever heard of it?”

“What?”

Anplus doubted his ears.

He had read nearly every grimoire in the family library, yet nothing mentioned this application of mental-attribute magic.

“In the end, before magic you are nothing but an incompetent swordsman.”

Lobigos declared arrogantly.

Having broken the minds of countless people with magic and turned them into his limbs, he had reached a realm where he could subdue a person’s spirit even without magic.

“Let me offer once more. Become my knight. If you become my knight, I will erase every memory you wish to forget. Isn’t that fine? Instead of a ruined, fallen mage, you would live as a triumphant knight.”

The corners of his outstretched hand already wore the smile of a victor.

A smile certain that Anplus would take that hand.

Puuuk!

That smile distorted in an instant.

“Cut the crap. A thin-blooded mongrel who in the original order of things wouldn’t even step on my shadow dares to yap what?”

“Ugh!”

Anplus stepped forward and plunged his sword into Lobigos’s chest.

The blade slipped between the ribs and burst out his back.

When the body is pierced through, every muscle in the body momentarily contracts, stiffening the torso while the legs suddenly lose all strength.

Lobigos, groaning and drooling, staggering as though he would collapse at any moment, and Anplus, teeth clenched and holding firm, formed a stark contrast.

“Incompetent before magic? It was never mine to begin with? Thin blood, you say. Don’t be mistaken. A noble’s seat is not created by claiming it as mine from the start.”

Lobigos’s eyes widened as if he could not comprehend.

“Nobility is completed by innate bloodline, achievements befitting it, and the acknowledgment of other nobles. Thin blood follows thick blood; thick blood leads thin blood. What I originally was is not important, nor is how I see myself. What matters is how they see me.”

“Ridiculous nonsense. Without magic… you are only half a person in the end.”

Lobigos spoke with a deflating sound.

They were close enough to see themselves reflected in each other’s pupils.

Anplus answered with a relaxed smile.

“If you have a soul, watch silently. Whether it is so or not.”

Anplus tightened his grip.

The blade, turned diagonally from horizontal, tore through flesh.

Lobigos screamed, and Anplus endured with veins bulging on his face.

“You, you, you crazy bastard!”

The sword he slashed upward pierced out between shoulder and neck.

Blue blood flowed freely, mixed with foam from the lungs.

Even for a pureblood, it was a wound that might or might not be recoverable.

The light vanished from Lobigos’s eyes, and at the same moment Sensory Assimilation was released.

Anplus pounded his still-numb chest several times, then wiped the bloodied sword on his cloak.

Becoming a noble without magic is a miracle. That’s why I named my swordsmanship the swordsmanship that creates miracles. 

At the end of this path, I will definitely return.

***

Belatedly, Young Lord Trichitas, the local mages, and several knights staying at the site arrived.

They all gasped in horror at the pool of blood below the hill and the corpses of the scaled monsters.

“To think he cut scales even my magic could not pierce? And he’s still perfectly fine? I thought at least an arm or leg would be gone!”

Trichitas lamented theatrically, then turned his head away, face flushed crimson with shame.

“Humiliation! This body has been reduced to an errand boy calling for reinforcements, while that man who cannot even use magic racks up military merit! Humiliation!”

The earth mages ran past him.

“It really is ‘hard as steel.’ Look at this. It’s practically mineral.”

One earth mage ripped off a green scale larger than his palm and gaped.

“Killing this many would be impressive even against soldiers, not monsters. But how on earth…”

An earth mage who had once dug trenches and built fortresses during territorial wars between branch families trailed off while counting the bodies.

“If you become a knight, will you be able to do something like this later?”

A young frost mage who had come with a family knight asked innocently.

The knight glanced once at Anplus standing atop the hill bathed in afternoon sunlight.

Having cut down dozens of monsters and a blue-blooded mental-attribute mage with a single sword, standing in backlit glory, he looked like an ancient hero leapt from the pages of legend.

Simply saying “no” would have sufficed, but his chest throbbed too fiercely for that.

“I hope I can someday.”

While gathering the corpses of the scaled monsters, the knight made a vow.

Instead of spending break time under the shade of trees from now on, he would swing his sword one more time.

He did not dare dream of becoming like that man, but he would do everything he himself was capable of.

Anplus, had he known, would have felt both embarrassed and immensely happy.

“Everyone, prepare to resume work. We have to take all of them.”

“Some are still alive! Be careful.”

***

“So the knight-nim killed all the swamp devils in a single day?”

The laborers wore expressions of disbelief.

I shrugged and gazed at the marsh.

“They’re coming now.”

Corpses of the completely frozen lizardmen were being ferried over on small boats hastily procured.

The ones chopped up too badly were buried deep in the local mud, but everything that still retained its shape was brought.

“Good heavens…”

“My lord—no, what exactly am I looking at right now?”

“You truly took them down with just one sword?”

When three earth mages combined their strength and dragged in a mud golem that looked like a cross between a turtle and a snake, the workers’ exclamations reached their peak.

The near-10-meter-tall colossus was hauled limp all the way inside the camp.

Day laborers, merchants, and high-grade workers all gathered to gawk at the three-headed monster.

“All the ancient ones died by my hand. Sleep soundly tonight, and starting tomorrow we resume surveying. We have to make up for lost time and push reclamation forward quickly. If we fall behind again this time, I really will grind you lot to dust.”

The laborers exchanged glances for a moment, then all knelt before me.

I was briefly taken aback, but soon lifted my chin proudly and looked down at them.

“The blue blood will protect you. Just as it has for thousands of years until now.”

***

A week passed after work resumed.

The injured and sick were transported to rear cities, and new laborers arrived to replace them.

Since the imperial family might try other schemes, the plan to have Temeratia come as temporary on-site deputy director remained in place.

With no more fighting, a knight had nothing to do.

While the sun was up I trained swordsmanship; at dusk I inspected the construction the earth mages had completed during the day.

Today I strolled beside the reservoir just finished.

I was told they collected the drained swamp water to use later for irrigation.

Then a now-familiar figure approached my side.

“You were noble. Your skill was splendid. I truly did not expect you could kill so many lizardmen.”

Trichitas spoke rapidly.

His pronunciation was so slurred it was hard to understand.

“What did you just say? Say it again. I couldn’t hear properly.”

“I said the arrangements for manpower and wagons to transport the lizardman corpses and that giant monster corpse to the capital are complete.”

Seriously, to the bitter end.

I clicked my tongue once and answered.

“Ah. Right. That’s important. The family head has to be satisfied for my mission of gratitude to end.”

“The compilation of the report you wrote is also finished.”

“No issues with the content?”

“From the proposal to disguise officer-mage Temeratia as a knight’s aide and bring her here, to the conclusion of resuming construction—for a report written by a ruined man who cannot use magic, it was excellent.”

I glared at him and said,

“I’ll throw you in the reservoir.”

Trichitas answered shamelessly without batting an eye.

“No need to do that. However, there is one part of the report that bothers me.”

“Where?”

“Why did you kill that imperial collateral Lobigos? If you had kept him alive we could have learned much. It would have been a great help in negotiations with the imperial family or in shaping public opinion.”

“…”

I fell silent for a moment.

What should I answer?

That he had learned my most important secret?

That my mind was assaulted and I could not make proper judgments?

That a mental-attribute mage was too dangerous to let live?

“He was someone I didn’t want to let live.”

After much thought, I gave the words that had lingered in my mind until the very last.

I know it’s not something a blue-blood noble should do.

I simply hated those words more than anything.

If you know it’s wrong, then don’t do it.

The moment I spoke, I prepared a retort for the curses sure to follow.

“Huh?”

“What?”

“You’re not angry?”

It was strange.

Trichitas did not spit profanity after hearing my answer.

“Mental-attribute mages are troublesome when met as enemies. Do not listen to their words. They cunningly mix lies among truth to break us. The family head will understand your choice as well.”

“Are you… defending me right now?”

“Who said anything like that?”

“This time you didn’t say ‘who cannot even use magic’?”

He looked genuinely startled.

“My correction.”

“No need. When you go up, take this letter too.”

“What’s it about?”

“I think I’ll need a new sword.”

I gently stroked the hilt of the sword that had been with me for so long.

I had felt it while fighting the lizardmen.

My swordsmanship, the Fortenatium style, required a longer blade than a standard knight’s sword.

“Do you believe your swordsmanship can develop further from there? From what I’ve seen, you’ve already done everything possible with a sword. You even crossed blades almost evenly with Lord Seongbaek.”

I shook my head firmly.

“No. It’s only just beginning.”

***

Trichitas took the wagons loaded with frozen monster corpses and a frost mage volunteered from a nearby city and headed up to Intezeron.

Then early spring turned to late spring; flowers bloomed and withered, leaves grew thick.

A messenger arrived from Intezeron.

“Sir Anplus, receive the command of His Excellency Argantius!”