I Don’t Need a Guillotine for My Revolution

Chapter 13: Civil War Period - Ran Gaston

Chapter 13: Civil War Period - Ran Gaston

Translated by Mara Sov

Civil War Period Ran Gaston

Sweat poured from my body as I swung my sword in a frenzy.

What, what is this?

My vision is hazy, but my body is still moving; even when my mind is faltering, the sword techniques Ive practiced countless times were executed naturally.

Ah, this

My sweat-soaked clothes clung to my body as my sword sliced through the air with a swift sound.

These were the memories of my Knight training.

Soon, a clash of steel ensued, the impact traveling from my hand through my arm.

After several blows were exchanged, we took a step back as the audience exclaimed with bated breath.

Wow 

Who is that boy? His swordsmanship is impeccable. 

Ah, youre talking about the mercenarys son, Ran? Hes the same age as the Young Master. How can a commoner like him wield a sword with this much proficiency?

The gazes of the audience gathered in the familys sparring ground, their exclamations, and mockery all turned into another weight on my shoulders.

As I struggled with this pressure and my own erratic breathing, I glared at the boy before me.

Ran. A commoner. Someone unheard of and unseen. The son of a nameless mercenary.

My shaking sword and trembling hands were a stark contrast to his calm and composed posture, further amplifying the chaos in my mind.

I had been instructed in the way of the sword since I was six, and ever since I could hold a sword properly, Ive rolled around with the Knights under the strict orders of the Marquis.

And yet, I cant defeat a peasant boy who never even received proper Knightly training!

How could this be? 

The boy standing opposite of me was also astonished.

That very expression on his face stroked a fire within me, as a mix of rage and shame overwhelmed me.

My moment of emotional turmoil is cut short, however, by a single clicking of the tongue.

Tsk 

Amidst the countless voices, this sound was clearly heard by me.

My father, the Marquis of Lafayette.

A war hero who rose from a mere Knight to become the Head of Lafayette with his overwhelming bravery and unquestioned authority.

The strongest Knight in the Kingdom.

And this very same man was watching me struggle against a commoner boy.

His disdainful gaze pierced my back like an arrow, causing me to break out in a cold sweat.

To be seen like this, after all my hard work!

Driven by my desperation, I lunged forward once more.

Wooooooaaaah! 

My war cry sounded more like a desperate scream, even to my ears.

Kicking the ground, the distance between us shortened quickly, and with a swing of my sword, a metallic screech filled the air as my arm buckled under the impact.

The full force of my swing, the one Ive put my all into, was blocked with absurd ease.

To someone unfamiliar with swordsmanship, the match may appear even.

But any capable fighter could surely see that I was at a disadvantage. 

Even after using every technique I knew of, every dirty trick I could think of, I couldnt get past his defenses.

With such a gap between us, it was obvious why he didnt go on the offensive.

Because I was the Marquiss son.

He couldnt crush me in front of the Marquis; at the same time, he also couldnt show a sloppy performance, so that was why he was stuck on the defensive.

That honest consideration, or rather, his genuine conduct made me grind my teeth.

My arms were already throbbing from exhaustion and the gazes filled with disappointment of the Marquis and the other vassals continued to pierce through me.

It was simply too much.

The foul taste of blood spread in my mouth as I bit into my lips.

All the expectations derived from being the son of the Marquis and the best Knight in Francia had always haunted me since childhood.

The Marquis may have been a great Knight, but he was not a good father.

He wished for me to follow in his footsteps and become the next generations Blue Knight. As such, in order to live up to his expectations, I had to endure grueling training since I was a child.

Theres no way Ive endured all that pain just to fail like this!

But just as I was about to charge again, a cold voice halted me.

Enough. 

My opponent sheathed his sword as if hed been waiting for those words, and I turned my stiff neck to look toward the highest seat in the audience.

The Marquiss cold, contemptuous gaze tore into me.

Enough of this shame. 

Ah.

The words of the Marquis echoed around my ears like a dark reminder of my own pathetic self.

The vassals looked at me with pity, some even directed an understanding gaze at me.

And my mothers eyes, filled with tears.

Ah, that was the final straw.

Im not done yet! Not yet! 

I didnt even realize I was shouting.

I lifted my sword, infusing it with mana.

Y-Young Master! 

I saw Ran flinch at the sight of my sword, now faintly glowing with my mana.

The basic qualification of a Knight, to be able to harness your mana, isnt something you can do just by being talented with a sword.

No matter how skilled you are, you cannot block a mana-enhanced sword with a normal one.

The tournaments were meant to showcase ones talent, including those who hadnt had former training.

I didnt even remember the rule forbidding the use of mana.

Nor did I consider that my opponent would be seriously injured by my actions.

Nothing crossed my mind at that moment.

I was simply desperate, trying to prove that all that time spent on training and enduring the most torturous methods wasnt wasted.

But then, with a horrific screech, my sword exploded into a million pieces. 

The fragments of the broken sword scratched and cut me, but I barely felt it.

My trembling vision fell upon a dagger lying intact among the remnants of my sword before following its previous trajectory.

You worthless piece of trash. 

That was a fathers, not a Marquiss, sentiment towards his 14-year-old son.

-

Ah, fuck. 

I opened my eyes with a curse.

I had a nightmare of one of the worst moments of my life.

Young Master? Is something wrong? 

Rubbing my eyes, I felt a sense of self-loathing as I looked at my escort Knight who looked worried.

We were on our way to Montpellier in search of the Princess.

Baron Domont tried to stop me since the plague was still spreading, but I persevered.

Taking a large search party was foolish with the plague still ravaging the land and it could cause some rather serious misunderstandings if the subjects of the Marquisate saw their acting lord sneaking out of a quarantined city.

That was why I only took Sir Gaston with me while we made our way out of the city.

Were both skilled enough to defend ourselves and we could move much faster this way.

The night sky was completely dark and silent except for the crackling bonfire around us.

I shivered for a moment as I recalled the nightmare, and with a fake composure, I answered him.

No, its nothing. 

In retrospect, Ran now gifted the title of Sir Gaston, did nothing wrong on that day.

It just so happens that he, a once-in-a-century genius, had enlisted in the same tournament as I had, and had received training from his father, a veteran mercenary. And to the Marquis, his pride meant everything.

It was a simple soul-crushing coincidence. 

Because of that unfortunate coincidence, I spent many years wallowing in my self-hatred.

However, in a way, that day made me into who I am.

I watched Sir Gaston stroke the campfire for a moment before opening my mouth.

Im sorry. 

Hm? 

Back then, in my foolishness, I might have seriously injured or even killed him.

Moreover, the Marquis banished Sir Gaston, who had defeated me, to the mansion, under the pretext of being my escort. So, despite his absurd talent as a commoner turned Knight, he was essentially buried away.

My Lord. Forgive me but I dont understand it 

ItsIm sorry for many things. 

Sir Gaston, who was a lot bigger than me, scratched his stubbly chin in awkwardness. 

Before I regressed, I developed an inferiority complex because of him and always tried to avoid the man.

Yet, this man remained loyal to me until his death.

I should have apologized and expressed my gratitude to him ages ago. But since he wouldnt understand me, I said something else instead.

Thank you for following me, even in this plague. 

I am your escort, My Lord. Its natural for me to follow you. 

I chuckled at Sir Gastons single-minded answer. The son of a nameless mercenary seemed far more Knightly than the so-called Blue Knight.

My Knight. Its your turn to rest, Ill keep watch. 

Its fine, My Lord. I can still 

If it were for only a day or two, that would be understandable. And If I had intended to enjoy a full nights sleep, I would have brought a more sizable escort team. 

My apologies then. 

He didnt argue anymore and covered himself with a blanket to lie down.

Looking at the campfire I allowed myself to become lost in thought, and then I glanced at Sir Gastons figure.

A Knight with an unfortunate tale. Born a commoner, he remained loyal to his Lord until the end, but he died without ever being repaid for his loyalty.

So, I whispered a promise, an oath made to my most loyal Knight.

This time, Ill make sure to repay your loyalty. 

Had I never been defeated by Sir Gaston and won the tournament, would I have grown to become just like the Marquis?

If that happened

I might have been unable to accept the flaws of this rotten Kingdom and its corrupt nobility until the moment I was led to the guillotine by the Revolutionaries; instead, I would have harbored my hatred and sharpened the blade of revenge against those who killed me.

If theres a God out there, surely, he wouldnt have sent me back just to give me the opportunity to avoid my death. There must be a reason as to why I, of all the nobles who died in the Revolution, was sent back.

When I first returned, I admit I was simply resentful of my death and treated everyone no differently than the Marquis. My top priority was simply avoiding my fate.

But now, Ive changed quite a bit and formed many connections.

I know of the demons who laugh while drinking the pus and blood of this crumbling Kingdom. I know of the royalty and nobles driving this land to ruin with their greed and ambition.

And because I know all of this, I cant just sit back and wait for the right moment to reap the most benefits.

Eventually, the two Princes who are destroying this Kingdom must fall, alongside this Kingdom of Knights, where the so-called honorable Knights are the same as most devils.

Before the stench of the decomposed bodies drives those desperate enough into a frenzy of hatred and madness, who will spill even more innocent blood in their quest for Revolution.

As if to mock my resolve, upon arriving in Montpellier, we wandered around for days.

What did they say, My Lord? 

That they left some time ago. 

I couldnt hold back a grimace as I stepped out of a commoners home.

Unlike the Marquisate which provided some medicine and food before the lockdown, the local lord here seemed to have mismanaged the situation as there were residents, begging for mercy, clinging to me, and nearly causing an uproar.

When we left the Marquisate, we brought a considerable amount of food, but now its nearly gone, as there was nowhere to purchase more even if we had the coin for it.

Tsk-. This is not going to be easy. 

Sir Gaston and I both covered our faces and wandered around, barely making contact with the villagers.

After all, it would be unfortunate if either of us caught the plague.

I stared at the pits where the victims of the plague were thrown and burned.

There were comparatively fewer victims of the plague in this region.

In some villages we passed though, it was common to see bodies covered with flies by the roadside, and some places even became ruins with no one around. 

The most serious problem now was.

The people here hail the Princess as a Saintess and refuse to cooperate with our search.

Weve tried to assure them that we meant her no harm, and we even tried to threaten them with our noble authority

But we learned a pitiful amount. It was just the same things I received from the Aquitaines merchants; that the Princess wears a full-length veil, moves with an escort, and mainly visits the homes of the sick at night to provide them treatment before disappearing.

After a few days, I became certain.

I think shes avoiding us. 

Even my most loyal Knight sighed.

I understand his plight.

Truly, I do.

Being dragged out by his Lord, for a task he claims to be of utmost importance, only to chase after a Saintess or whatever his goal was during the most perilous outbreak of plague in recent times.

Yes, it must be a little frustrating.

Honestly, Im at my wits end too.

Weve been asking the villagers for the whereabouts of the Princess, but since they appear to be cooperating with her, rather than us, its inevitably difficult to track her down.

Its certain that the Princess is mostly active during the night. All the testimonies we managed to gather match this. So what does she do during the day? Does she sleep? Or does she hide somewhere? 

I thought that the damned Holy Church was trying to frame her as a witch, but turns out they werent so far off base after all.

If she wasnt treating the sick, the fact that a woman was covering her whole body, even wearing a veil, and is only active during the nightIt is almost comically easy to write her off as a witch.

Eventually, Sir Gaston and I looked at each other and sighed deeply while preparing to camp.

Stretching my sore body, I watched Sir Gaston tend to the bonfire.

Seeing the usually stern Knight show a small smile on his face, even I couldnt help but be elated as well.

With our provisions mostly depleted, we decided to hunt.

What was the use of having a bow if not for opportunities like this!

Normally, its a crime to hunt without permission in someone elses territory, but that only applies to commoners. Besides, the Lord of this land is holed up in his manor and wont come out anytime soon.

After a successful hunt, a wild boar was roasting over the fire, giving off a delicious aroma and the sight of the dripping fat warmed my heart.

While we savored the meat, I hoped that this string of good luck continued so that we may find the elusive Princess soon.

But our pleasant time was brief.

Both Sir Gaston and I reached for our swords.

Soon after, faint footsteps approached our camp through the forest.

The person who emerged from the forest was wearing a dark cloak as travelers often do.  

It wasnt particularly large and beneath the cloak, I could see a long robe.

But the figure had a hood, a veil, and even gloves on their hands.

Whats this? Doesnt this getup scream Look at me! Im a shady person!.

Wait. 

Hold on.

Ex-excuse me. 

A distinctive feminine voice came out from the cloaked figure, followed by a rather loud growling sound.

Silence ensued.

And this woman, who was clearly too suspiciously dressed to be called a Saintess became flustered.

Awawa-. I. I-Im sorry, r-really sorry, since weve just met, butumc-could you please share some food with me? 

By the tone of her voice, she seemed incredibly embarrassed. My brain struggled to keep up with this scenario, as all the tension in my body vanished.

You know what? Screw it. I should have tried to lure her out with food before, instead of going through all that trouble searching for her.

TL Note: Well well well, looks like em saint is a glutton!

Hehehehe I hope yall liking this, cause I almost killed myself translating this on a speed above the MTLer guy, so please share sum genesis love on NU reviews and of course sum MTL hate as well.