Tale of the Fake Hero

Chapter 17

Chapter 17 – The End of Childhood, Battle of Aristapo (8)

“Aradamantel…?” For some reason, the sword was as light as his mother’s shortsword. It was definitely his first time holding it, but it felt like the sword was guiding him.

“Cut.” the sword seemed to be saying.

A red line that otherwise wouldn’t have been visible crossed the air, showing him the shortest trajectory he needed to swing the sword to cut off Kishun’s head.

It was a line that only peak experts, like Raminea and Kamila, could see.

The line flickered, as if telling him it wasn’t the time to panic.

“Aaaaaaahhhh?!” Kishun’s claws closed in on him.

The uruks cried out, expecting to see their leader victorious.

“Aaaaa!” Kaisen swung his sword, and the Great Holy Sword, Aradamantel emitted a devastating red brilliance—sword aura.

The energy stretched out and burned Kishun’s claws as it cut off his hands, penetrated into his muscles, rose at an angle, and sliced through his spine before emerging out the other side.

Claaaang—!

After the longsword finished its arc, only one person was left alive—Kaisen.

Catching his breath and holding Aradamantel at a lowered angle, the boy looked at his opponent’s body.

The uruk, Kishun, the eldest son of the Kiral Clan’s chief and the top candidate for the next chief, was missing his head.

Kishun’s headless body stumbled for a few long moments, blood foaming at the stump of his neck, as if unable to accept its sudden death.

The uruk’s battered head spun through the wind and rain in the air before thumping into the wet dirt on the ground. Kishun’s eyes were distorted in shock.

The body fell to the ground a moment after the head, and an earth-shattering sound echoed out.

Silence fell.

The uruks, who had been cheering and confident of victory just moments prior, froze in silence.

During Kaisen’s fatal slash, even the rain seemed to hold its breath. It had since resumed and even intensified into a full downpour.

Kishun’s younger brother, Kishe, fell down as his knees gave out.

“Ketakose…!” an uruk howled. It meant, “Kill.”

Words calling for death filled the forest and sky, and half of the uruks raised their weapons in anger.

“Ketakose…!”

“Ketakose…!”

The situation took a turn for the worst.

Kaisen had no strength as the uruks surrounded him. All he could do was raise the tip of Aradamantel’s sword. It was the same for Wolf—the uruks seemed intent on taking out their anger over Kishun’s death on Kamila and Wolf.

The uruks approached and raised their axes, and Wolf felt his hand tremble on the hilt of his dagger.

At that desperate moment, the uruks of the Kiral clan blocked the other uruks, ordering them to follow the ancient laws. A strange situation unfolded in the pouring rain as the uruks turned on each other.

“Sheketase (Stop)!” Kishe shouted. Internal fighting among the uruks threatened to break out, and all the uruks focused on the words and actions of the warrior second only to Kishun.

“Are you planning on becoming just like those Balkrush bastards?” Kishe asked.

The uruks protested. Were they going to let the bastard who killed Kishun live?

“That guy won in a Kaltake, so he’s in the right.”

For what felt like an eternity, the uruks glared at Kaisen and Wolf, but they eventually lowered their weapons one by one.

“Jekia, Roke no kirmea.” Kishe ordered quietly, and an uruk soon came with a horse that had clearly been stolen from a human. “According to the laws of Kaltake, I will not pursue you for another half a day.”

Kishe approached Kaisen, both hands raised. It seemed that he had no intention of fighting. “Also, the Kiral clan will protect this bridge so that other uruks cannot cross it.”

Kaisen took a moment to internally translate Kishe’s words into the human tongue before sarcastically replying in the uruks’ language. “You’re being uncharacteristically gentlemanly.”

“If I were dead, Kishun would have done the same. We of the Kiral Clan are different from scum like the Balkrush Clan.” Kishe’s voice trembled with sadness and anger, but he still did not attack.

He continued. “It would be better to leave quickly before I set out to kill you, Kaisen, son of the Crimson Lotus.”

Kaisen and Wolf exchanged glances and then strapped Kamila onto the horse’s back. Wolf took the reins, and Kaisian retrieved Aradamantel’s scabbard before leading the way.

Kaisen crossed the bridge, and the Kiral uruks guarding the way stepped aside and thumped their chests in respect.

“It’s so unlike them,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

In uruk society, truth could only be found in strength, and only the victors were worthy of worship and friends. The Uruks recognized Kaisen’s strength and showed him respect.

[At the time, Kishun was a warrior who would have become the chief of the Kiral Clan, and although he was not as famous as Balkarro, he had a great reputation in uruk society. At the end of his childhood, Kaisen defeated such a warrior with his sword… Wouldn’t it be strange if the uruks didn’t show respect?]

* * *

Reaper Scans

Translator – Rainypup

Proofreader – ilafy

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* * *

Kaisen was victorious, but he also had deep internal wounds.

Wolf spoke to the boy, who was limping ahead of him. “Kaisen…?”

“Huh?”

“Isn’t Aradamantel heavy?”

“It’s just so-so, hmm…”

Wolf was perplexed. The Great Holy Sword, Aradamantel, could only be held and wielded by its chosen proxy, and it was completely impossible for others to carry it. That Kaisen could lift it was proof that he was chosen…

Wolf couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. ‘Yes, I see…’ Aradamantel had chosen Kaisen as its new master—the leader’s son and Kamilla’s disciple.

The old master of Aradamandel reached out and touched Wolf’s shoulder. “Put me down…”

‘Oh…’ He still had to suffer the tears of a relationship being cut off. Wolf held Kamila in his arms and sat her down on a dried pine tree trunk.

“What are you doing, Wolf? We have to go quickly! There’s no time to rest when she’s bleeding like this…!” Kaisen yelled.

Wolf shook his head. “Kaisen, Kamila can’t be saved now.”

“How do you know that? Who decided that?”

Kamila’s eyes were cold, and blood constantly gushed out of her abdomen. She could smell the coppery scent of blood in her hair.

Kaisen recalled the night his mother had died and how he’d dug her grace as he cried all night—everything overlapped.

“Is she dying…?”

“…”

“Is Kamila dying…?” Kaisen asked again, choking down tears. Why…was it that he hadn’t cried in four years, but tears would not stop welling up for the woman who had only bullied and cursed at him?

Wolf answered, “Kaisen, this is what I think, but Kamila treated you harshly because you are our leader’s son.”

“What…?”

“You’ll soon have to say goodbye, so don’t be too caught up in your grief yet…”

‘Don’t say it.’ Kamila choked on blood. ‘If you tell him that… what use… was all I’ve done so far…? What would it make… of all the curses that brat heard from me?’

“Don’t joke, stop it!” Kaisen grabbed Kamila’s shoulders and weakly shook her. “You were just jealous of me! You thought I stole your mentor away! I know it already! So stop this nonsense!”

The rain ran down the boy’s face in tear-shaped droplets.

“Hey, Kaisen…” Kamila opened her trembling lips. “I’m sorry for everything until now…”

“Don’t apologize, don’t apologize! Just swear at me like you always do! Why is it not stopping? The blood, blood, blood…!”

Her sight blurred. She saw the boy’s tearful face as he desperately pressed on her wounds—a face so similar to the teacher she deeply loved.

“Our Kami is really cute.”

She could even hear her voice. In the coldness of death, voices from the past warmly settled into her heart.

“N-no way!”

“But you’re really cute. I want to have children just like you in my life.”

What had she said? Even the thought probably made her jealous back then. She’d been afraid that, if her master had children, she’d be relegated to the background.

“Don’t Fake Warriors promise not to marry? There’s no way something like that would be possible.” Ah, so that’s what she’d said.

Her master had affectionately patted her on the head and given her a bright smile. “After I have children and they learn to do things, I will introduce you as my sister.”

“What…?”

“Then that kid will follow you around and call you their auntie, right? I can already imagine their cute toddling…”

It was a trivial dream for ordinary people, but for them, women who bloomed and fell in the world of swords, it was a daring and distant dream.

“There might even be a time when the child goes crying to you, complaining that I’m not giving him snacks…”

“You won’t give him snacks…?”

“Listen. When that happens, Kami, you have to secretly give him snacks and say, ‘It’s a secret from me’, okay? Then you can nod to each other and smile.”

Along with the echoes of memories, a dream that could never be sparkled before Kamila’s eyes.

She dreamed of Raminea’s sandwiches… of herself and her teacher sitting on a green lawn, nibbling on those sandwiches while Kaisen played.

Her thoughts became muddled. ‘If… if the world had been a little more peaceful, would I have been able to see and experience such a day for myself, Master?’

“Wolf… Wolf, why are you just standing still? Come on, hurry up and use your magic,” Kaisen said.

“Kaisen…”

“All you have to do is freeze the wounded area. Once the bleeding stops, as long as we can get to a priest or witch, if you can get the dragon blood serum, we can heal her again!”

Wolf didn’t say anything. He tasted the blood seeping from his chewed lips as he helplessly stood there. Even if he tried to save her, it was no longer possible.

From the hair on her head to the hair on her eyebrows, it was all white. That meant she’d used all of her vitality.

“I don’t have any time left, so don’t ask questions, and just listen,” Kamila said.

“Why don’t you have time? We just need to fix this!” Kaisen argued.

“What… what do you think of yourself…?”

“What?”

“Are you just someone who can wield a sword well? Or… are you the Fake Warrior’s disciple…?” Since she could no longer be with him anymore, she would tell him what needed to be told.

As a teacher to a student, just as she had inherited it, she hoped her words and will would be inherited by him as well.

Kaisen shook his head. “Damn it, why are you asking about that now?!”

“I’m asking because it’s important…”

“It’s not important! It’s not important at all! Just shut up and start walking! Get on the horse!”

“You know… When this war ends… leave the sword behind and go. It’s better if the person you love is with you…”

‘After the war…?’ Was that even possible? Kaisen was afraid of those words. It was overwhelming and foreign. He couldn’t think of anything.

“Be happy in a place where no one knows you and where there is not the slightest smell of blood.” That was Kamila’s dream. She’d given up on that dream, leading to those final moments.

Her tone when she spoke of her unreachable dream seemed sad but wistful. “Someday, when we meet in paradise, tell me and your mother how happy you lived.”

Kaisen’s breath caught in his chest. ‘H… happiness? Living happily in this world where there’s nothing but sadness? How?”

“Promise me you will…”

Happiness seemed like a joke. It sounded like a daydream, like an old fable.

Kaisen remained silent. No, he didn’t want to answer. The moment he answered, he felt that something precious would slip away, just like how his mother left that day.

“If you promise me this, I will allow you… to tell whomever you meet, wherever you go…”

Something warm stroked Kaisen’s head as he despaired—Kamila’s hand. She had one last lesson for Kaisen as his teacher.

She gave a dazzling smile that resembled his mother’s. “You… you… are… the disciple chosen and raised by Kamila Alter Aradamantel…”

‘I’m sorry for not being able to keep my promise to you. Aradamantel. I ask for your help in protecting my disciple, who will be left alone in this cruel world.’

“Live… Live and be happy, Kaisen. Please take care of Aradamantel.”

After that, silence gripped the world, punctuated by the thud of a hand hitting the mud after having lost the last of its warmth.

Like her mentor, Kamila died with a smile on her face for those she’d left behind.

The rain showed no signs of stopping—it poured from the eyes of the boy weakly shaking his teacher’s hand and from the eyes of the young man kneeling in despair as he looked at the body of the woman he loved.

It rained and rained and rained.

* * *

?Did Kamila really choose that child??

Within the Dragon Spirit Hall, the headquarters of the Church of the Light Dragon and the Imperial Court, those of extremely high status gathered.

Wolf answered, “Yes, Your Excellency, I saw it with my own eyes. If you don’t believe me, try swinging Aradamantel.”

There were five cardinals in the church, referring to the five yellow dragons of the Sage Dragons, and they made decisions after consulting with other officials on behalf of the ailing Light Dragon.

They were called the five pillars of the Imperial Court, and when they gathered for a meeting, they became the Five Pillars Council.

?But isn’t that child a boy? He’s even the child of a deserter. Could such a person use the power of the holy sword on the right path?? Cardinal Hargon expressed concern.

Wolf looked straight at her and bowed. “That merely means that he inherited the blood of the greatest Fake Warrior of all time, and he received the best education from her student, the next-greatest Fake Warrior.”

?…!?

“I think it would be an immeasurable loss to humanity if we were to give up on such a being based on gender alone.”

The cardinals fell silent.

Cardinal Parrem asked, ?Is there anyone who can vouch for the child? Someone who can take responsibility, should anything go wrong??

“I will vouch for the child,” Wolf said without hesitation.

?Although you are illegitimate, you are a prince of the northern regions, the bloodline of the Duren Family, and a member of the Crimson Lotus’s corps. Your qualifications are sufficient. However, to ensure validity, two or more??

Cardinal Yoshhar intervened.?I also vouch for the boy.? He had loved Raminea like a daughter, and Yoshhar had been the one to send the liaison to Kaisen’s hometown of Land’s End Village.

If it weren’t for Yoshhar, Raminea would have been taken in without any grace period, without being able to enjoy the happiness of a family.

?Yoshhar??

?This is the child that Raminea protected with her life. Kamila chose him as her disciple. I want to trust them, and I take full responsibility for any problems that arise.? Yoshhar quietly closed her eyes. ‘Raminea, this is the last favor I give you. Now rest in peace.”

?It is decided.? Cardinal Enricht, who had remained silent until then, opened his eyes. ?Kaisen, Kamila’s disciple and the son of Raminea, will be allowed to enter the Temple of the Sword of Bravery so that he can become a Fake Warrior like his mother and teacher.?

* * *

Wolf had frozen Kamila’s body, so it did not rot. She was cremated in the Imperial Court’s First Chapel so that her body would not be claimed by the abyss. She was reduced to ashes and scattered after the rain stopped.

Wolf took the handful of her bone fragments that remained and silently froze them into a delicate work resembling snow crystals. He split the crystals and worked a silk thread through them to make a pair of necklaces.

After hanging one of the necklaces around Kaisen’s neck and the other around his own, he said, “Kaisen, you said you remember where your mother’s grave is, right?”

Wolf looked calm. Even though his heart must have been torn from the pain of losing his beloved lover, he remained stoic.

Kaisen continued to cry and answered, “I planted an acorn there.”

“Kaisen, let’s take Kamila there.” Wolf hugged the boy. It was the first time his voice had shaken, and tears flowed from his eyes. “After you become a Fake Warrior… let’s go together… so Kamila can rest next to her master…” Wolf breathlessly cried.

Kaisen’s tears renewed. “Yeah…”

In the end, Wolf defended Kaisen’s strong desire to become a Fake Warrior and registered him in the ‘Temple of the Sword of Bravery’.

After the funeral, Kaisen walked with Wolf to the Imperial Court’s main gate.

“When we meet again,” Wolf said, “I would be happy to be able to call you ‘Kaisen Alter Aradamantel’.”

“…”

“Stop crying. You’re not that kind of person, right? We’ll meet again. I remember when I originally parted with Kamila here.”

“Wolf…”

“I will go to my hometown in the north for a while and then return to the front lines. I need to study again. Knowledge is like a blade, and if you don’t keep sharpening it, it becomes dull.” Wolf patted Kaisen on the shoulder.

Kaisen’s gaze rested on the necklace around Wolf’s neck.

Wolf gave a bitter smile. “I will never love any other woman in the future. Kaisen, there is absolutely no shame in a man loving only one woman in his life.”

“…”

“I pray that you will meet a woman like that. This is goodbye. The instructor from the ‘Temple of the Sword of Bravery’ will come pick you up soon.”

Wolf turned around, hiding his sadness behind a slight grin.

Kaisen watched his benefactor’s departure in bewilderment before kneeling down on the ground and bowing. Even after Wolf disappeared, his forehead remained in contact with the ground for a long time, and his body shook as tears streamed down his face.

Just like that, the last day of his 17th year came to an end.

At 18, the boy was still in the bloody world of the sword, and the summer continued.

____