I Pulled Out the Excalibur

Chapter 9

Chapter 9 – Prelude to the Civil War (5)

Ivan, a former knight, still considered himself one, despite knowing he could no longer be called such. A knight was someone who upheld honor and pride. Ivan might have lost his honor, but he held onto his pride and, despite losing one eye, he could still see with the other. Thus, he remained a knight in part, able to perceive the light with his remaining eye.

“Damned brat…”

Ivan saw the radiance Najin had produced and understood its significance: a tremendous potential. It was a brilliance that shouldn’t be buried in a city like this, a flame that would surely be snuffed out if noticed by those above.

Najin’s potential and radiance shouldn’t emerge from a city fallen to the curse of Camlan.

Torn, Ivan reflected on the conversation he had with Offen the night before: kill Najin or nurture him. Honestly, killing was the right choice, as nurturing him was a gamble. If things went wrong, both Najin and Ivan’s lives were at stake. It would be crossing a line Ivan had set for himself.

A twinge in his lost right eye reminded him of a hard truth: one must live according to their station. Crossing lines only leads to misery, a lesson Ivan knew all too well.

“Dig out the eyeball.”

“Confiscate the masterpiece and cast him out.”

“You are no longer a knight of Atanga, Ivan.”

“Just a filthy heretic who dared reach for the stars.”

Having reached for the unreachable, he had lost everything, relegated to a world without light or stars.

“I should kill him.”

People should live within their means.

Thus, it would be right to kill or cripple Najin, a clear risk.

That was Ivan, the ruler of the underground city.

But as a knight, he thought differently.

Once a knight who dreamed of the pinnacle, who wished to hang his star in the night sky, Ivan knew the value of a dream. The knight in him asked if he would trample on the dream before him.

Silent, Ivan exhaled deeply.

“I’m going mad, really.”

…Ivan was a knight.

Still longing to be one, he made his decision.
***
“I’m going mad, really.”

Ivan chuckled bitterly, releasing the oppressive atmosphere. Najin felt the change and knew he was no longer in immediate danger.

“Why did you have to show that… why did you have to have it…”

Ivan ran his hand over his face, sighing deeply as he looked at Najin. There was hesitation in his eyes. After a moment, he spoke decisively.

“Najin.”

“…Why?”

Out of breath, Najin struggled to respond, still fearful after nearly facing death and curious about the light in his sword.

Mixed curiosity and fear.

Facing those eyes, Ivan spoke.

“Today, I’m going into Horace’s territory with Offen. I’ll be away for a couple of days…”

Unbuckling his belt, Ivan removed one of his two ever-present swords – one from the world above and the other a masterpiece by the blacksmith Hogel.

He handed Hogel’s masterpiece to Najin, who accepted it, bewildered.

“Guard my place while I’m away. If anyone causes trouble, use this sword to cut them down. It’s proof that you’re acting on my behalf.”

With those words, he handed over the sword.

“And.”

Ivan smirked.

“When I return, I’ll teach you how to handle Sword Aura.”

Promising what he had long delayed, Najin blinked in surprise. Ivan shrugged.

“You look like you don’t believe me.”

“I was almost killed just now. I’m scared you’re using it as an excuse to kill me.”

“Hey, do I look like such a villain?”

Najin nodded.

Ivan laughed bitterly. Well, he couldn’t deny it.

“I had no intention of killing you. If you hadn’t reacted, maybe I would have just added another scar to your shoulder.”

“You’re terrible, really.”

“It’s all for a reason, you damned brat.”

Ivan exhaled long, facing Najin’s still suspicious gaze.

“Fine, I’ll make a trustworthy bet.”

“What?”

“The heaviest thing I can offer.”

Placing a hand on his remaining sword, Ivan’s demeanor changed.

“On my pride as a Knight of Atanga, I swear.”

Not as the one-eyed ruler of the underground city, but as Ivan the knight, he spoke.

“This is a deal, Najin.”

A proposal and a deal, recognizing Najin as an equal.

“I’m investing in you from now on. I’ll teach you everything, not just drawing Sword Aura.”

The brilliance that you showed me.

I’ll bet everything on that light.

“So, you must rise higher than me.”

Beyond a Sword Master.

Reach the next level.

Reach the heights I couldn’t.

“Ascend, and retrieve what I left in the world above. Become strong enough to negotiate with those above.”

“…What did you leave above?”

“My honor.”

The title and honor of a Knight of Atanga.

Ivan extended his hand.

Without further words, his gesture was his offer.

Najin hesitated briefly.

Then, decisively, he grasped Ivan’s hand. With a strong pull, Ivan helped Najin to his feet and smiled.

“From today, you are my protégé.”

A protégé, a knight’s squire.

“The protégé of Ivan, Knight of Atanga.”

***

In Ivan’s office, Najin, taking his place during his absence, sat in the chair usually occupied by Ivan. Tapping his finger on the table, Najin muttered to himself, puzzled.

“What was that about?”

He couldn’t make sense of the recent events: Ivan’s request for a duel, the abnormal use of a steel sword instead of a wooden one, and Ivan enhancing his body with mana and finally drawing Sword Aura. Najin had genuinely feared for his life when Ivan swung his aura-imbued sword.

“And then…”

His body had moved on its own, instinctively, instinctively emitting a glow on his sword blade. Even with his limited knowledge of mana and Sword Aura, Najin knew what had manifested for a brief moment on his sword.

“Light. Mana. A fragment of Sword Aura.”

A mark of a warrior at the Master level. Was he now at that level? It seemed unlikely. Najin gripped the sword lying on the table, attempting to draw out the Sword Aura again, but to no avail. Recalling the moment, he remembered the sensation of being pushed from behind and the exhaustion that followed when the light manifested.

“It feels like a dream.”

But the lingering pain in his palm and body was proof that it wasn’t a dream.

Did I really draw out Sword Aura?
How could he, without ever learning mana techniques? The only people who could provide answers, Ivan and Offen, had just departed for Horace’s territory.

“I’ll ask when they return.”

Soon, he would be able to ask. Ivan had promised to teach him everything about Sword Aura and mana when he returned. That knowledge was something Najin had longed for but never received from Ivan, who always evaded the topic, warning him whenever he probed too deeply.

“Ivan will teach me. Sword Aura, proper swordsmanship.”

These were special things that couldn’t be obtained in the underground city, things beyond the line drawn by Ivan.

And they were…

Featured in the fairy tale book Najin always carried. The ‘brilliant Sword Aura’ of King Arthur and his knights was an inseparable part of their portrayal. Smiling at the thought, Najin felt a bit closer to the stars.

“A squire of Ivan, the knight of Atanga.”

Not Ivan’s hunting dog, but his squire.

Najin savored the resonance of the word, finding it quite pleasant.
* * *
“Ivan has taken the bait.”

In a deep chamber connected to the mining tunnels, Land Spider Horace spoke. He wasn’t alone; someone was listening intently.

“Hand over what you promised.”

“Don’t be so impatient, I’ll give it to you.”

A woman sitting on Horace’s desk tossed a packet of drugs at him. With trembling hands, he tore open the packet and consumed its contents, finally calming his shakes.

Horace looked up at the woman with an unreadable expression. She was unpredictable and mad. Staring at her, Horace asked,

“What’s your plan now?”

“Why bother asking? You just need to do as you’re told.”

She grinned, propping her chin on her hand.

“By the way, your first leg, Arnold, has fled. Did you have a hand in that?”

“I wasn’t involved.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Ivan fell for the trap.”

“What will you do with Arnold?”

“What else? He broke the rules…”

She gestured towards a corner of the office. There, Horace’s men were crammed into a cage, listless and defeated.

“He’ll end up like them.”

With a flick of her hand, a sharp noise rang out. One of the men began to swell unnaturally.

Horace closed his eyes, unable to watch.

Splashes of blood and flesh, weak moans echoing in the office.

Amidst these sounds, Horace clenched his teeth in anger and frustration.