Tale of the Fake Hero

Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – Childhood, the Dawn of Summer (5)

June 25, 1692 AD.

The summer, which began without any warning, cruelly swept across the southern regions of the old empire.

“R-run…!”

“It’s the uruks. The uruks…!”

“Mommyyyyy…!”

The first line of defense collapsed. People ran away crying, stepping on the corpses of their loved ones. They fled to the north, where the great fortress wall of the Inferno Line waited, or to the east, to the empire’s capital of ‘Terbenople’.

As the situation worsened, the White Bone Corps continued south. Kamila had to teach Kaisen as they moved, even if it was in the midst of a battlefield.

“Listen!” Kamila shouted as an uruk combat unit rushed toward the corps’ front lines. “This time, you need to find and fill the gaps in the main unit’s defenses.”

“Ugh, you want me to go on a date with the uruks on a rainy day?” Jin joked. “In weather like this, I’m not even sure if I could be convinced to go out with a pretty girl.”

“Jin, would a pretty girl even bother to leave her house to meet you on a rainy day? They’re coming to meet you because they’re uruks.”

“Puhahahaha!”

“Are you done prattling on?” Kamila asked.

“Yep.”

“Alright, everyone, shut up and gather.”

Kamila’s full corps was adorned in military gear and appeared quite stately.

2,117 gunmen, 883 spearmen, and 24 beastmen, including Eltoram.

The gunmen were all the most elite grenadiers who used steam grenades. In short, all of the troops could be considered special forces.

“Kaisen! You’re staying right behind me. If you get in trouble and cause any deaths, I’ll kill you myself. Do you understand?”

Kaisen paled. He wasn’t scared—the side effects of his mana pathways being forcibly opened still hadn’t subsided. Even his heartbeats hurt, but there was no time to rest.

Wolf looked worried. “Kamila, do we really need to bring Kaisen into this battle?”

“The decision is his to make.” She looked over at Kaisen. “Are you coming or not? Are you scared? If you’re scared, turn around and run away. No one will criticize you.”

In the face of Kamila’s verbal abuse, Eltoram nudged the boy in the side and gave him some vague advice. “Courage doesn’t mean not feeling fear. Rather, it’s the tenacity to not run away when faced with fear.”

There was no need for a verbal answer. The boy answered by standing next to the ranks of mercenaries.

That first expedition would eventually lead to the emergence of the great hero marking the beginning and end of the Heroic Age, Holy Knight Sarillion.

* * *

The wild grasses, dried out in the early summer heat, creaked helplessly under the light rain and were soon trampled by the uruks.

Gunshots, metal on metal, uruk shouts, human screams…

The noises of the battlefield intertwined with the steady sound of the rain, and the sharp odor of blood drifted beneath the earthy scent of the water-soaked earth.

‘Keep calm.’ Kaisen grabbed his trembling hand. ‘Please calm down…’

“A black flare from the right wing! That means the line collapsed!”

“Confirmed, let’s move.” Kamila started running toward the signal.

Following Kamila, the heavily-equipped White Bone Corps also quickly crossed the field.

“How many do you think there are?” Kamila asked Eltoram, who was following closely behind her.

“The smell is strong, so I think there are about a thousand. Although the rain makes it hard to be sure.”

“That’s more than enough.”

They were fast. How could they be so fast? The corps mercenaries also marched, but the fastest one by far was Kamila, who took the lead with her holy sword.

‘I heard that her holy sword is so heavy that three full-grown men would struggle to lift it together…’

Kamila glanced back at Kaisen, who was panting as he followed her, and shouted, “Is your sword? Can’t do it? Great! Just throw it all aside and get out of the way!”

Her first lesson had been, ‘Never let go of your sword, no matter what.’ He didn’t know at the time just how tiresome holding a sword could be.

‘Besides, this is even…’ Wasn’t the blade as long as he was tall? Needless to say, the weight of the sword felt like it would break all of his bones, and the enormous length caused various difficulties.

When they had to run through such a chaotic battlefield, the difficulties were at their peak.

His hands were soaked and sweaty, and his heart pounded so hard that it felt like it could explode.

Kaisen gritted his teeth. It was not heavy. It was not annoying. His mother had run several miles while holding his sister and him, and she always smiled, even until the last moment.

He would definitely learn everything he could about how to wield a sword, just as his mother had taught the foul-mouthed Kamila.

‘Then one day, all of the uruks?’ Just when he was about to wipe away the rain and sweat running down his forehead, chaos broke out.

“—El Ba shi!”

His awareness and the rush of information were too much to process.

“Paaaaaaaaaaa—!” A spearman screamed after his chest was crushed by a wagon wheel that flew in from out of nowhere.

The smell of blood intensified, and someone shouted about the enemy approaching just before the uruks came running from every direction, letting out terrible roars.

One of the uruks lodged the head of its huge axe into a gunman, sending him collapsing to the ground.

Kamila pulled out her holy sword. “Wolf, you take the left wing.”

They engaged in a full-on melee. The beastmen fought in hand-to-hand combat with the uruks, and the moment the spearmen formed a protective circle around the soldiers, the gunmen’s steam guns spewed out bullets.

Blood flowed wherever you looked—an abundance of blood and death.

‘Why?’ Kaisen gasped. It was only a moment, but why… did it seem to last forever?

“S-save… save me…” a dying gunman cried out behind him.

The moment Kaisen looked back in shock, he saw the crawling gunman’s head get caved in by an uruk’s mace. Bits of bone, brain matter, and skin splattered over him.

The uruk chuckled and looked over at Kaisen.

“Mom’s most precious treasure…”

* * *

Reaper Scans

Translator – Rainypup

Proofreader – ilafy

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* * *

It was a distant memory. The fate he’d determined for himself that day drew his mind from panic and brought clarity.

‘Kill…’ One word echoed in his head, calming his breathing and heart.

‘Kill, I have to kill…’ Killing intent welled up within his body. He pulled his single-edged sword from the scabbard on his back.

Without exception, he would not let a single uruk survive.

The uruk lunged at Kaisen and swung its mace.

Cross Sword Style – 1st Form, Full Circle.

It was a simple technique that involved crossing the sword and scabbard to block an enemy’s attack.

Thunk?!

A sharp pain shot through his wrists.

‘What kind of ridiculous strength…?’ He lost his balance, flew through the air, and landed face-up on the dried-out husk of a tree.

Coughing blood, he withstood the pain and got up. The pain blurred his vision, and he saw the uruk approaching him. The rain cascaded around him, a steady patter beneath the sounds of shouts and screams.

The uruk raised his mace.

“Ro de a… Balkrush?” Two fortunate things happened at once: first, the uruk paused when he saw the Balkrush Clan’s brand on Kaisen’s left cheek.

“Kaisen!” Next, Wolf realized Kaisen was in trouble and shot an ice spell through the uruk’s hand.

Ping?!

The uruk’s mace went flying. The creature only had a moment to groan in pain before its limb spewed blood and fell.

Kaisen’s sword landed a direct hit.

Cross Sword Style – 2nd Form, Pierce.

Whether by reflex or instinct, the boy jumped forward in an attempt to finish the uruk off. Just before his sword reached the uruk’s neck, the creature’s fist smashed into Kaisen’s stomach.

Kaisen nearly fainted from the pain. In the end, after almost dropping his sword and managing to avoid falling over, he barely clung to awareness.

‘Don’t lose consciousness.’ If the uruk’s opponent had been any other human child, it would’ve been over.

Though his vision was fading, Kaisen gritted his teeth to remain awake. His grip on his sword remained, and the sensation of it piercing flesh traveled down the blade and through his arm.

Silence fell, as if the world stopped for a moment. He gasped in pain and pulled his sword from the uruk’s neck. Something spurted out of the gaping wound and covered his body—red blood.

The uruk’s blood was the same color as a human’s. Did all of the Creator’s creatures have such crimson blood?

For some reason, he couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it was real, so he closed his eyes again.

“Shi… Shimdi ttera…” Perplexity appeared in the uruk’s eyes. It struggled to reach out and grab the boy.

Kaisen stood still. Just before its hand reached his head, he lightly kicked the uruk over.

The creature died with the fall, its eyes wide open in death.

“…” Kaisen looked at the dead Uruk—no, at himself reflected in its eyes—for a long time.

The rain continued to fall.

He couldn’t breathe… the smell of blood was strong enough to make him dizzy.

‘It’s over? Is this the end?’

Rather than the pleasure of revenge, he felt something else go through his body at the moment of his first kill.

Was it a sense of loss? It was a feeling of frustration that he couldn’t alter.

The feeling of disappointment was so intense that he couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Ha… Ahaha… Ahahahaha… Ha… Hahahahahahahahaha… Haha… Ha… Ha…” Rather than laughter, it sounded more like crying.

Most probably, it was a form of self-deprecation. It might’ve been because he’d reached the sad realization that, no matter how many he killed, even if he bathed in the blood of thousands of enemies, his mother would never return.

“Wow, that brat is amazing. He killed an uruk with just a sword.” Eltoram raised an eyebrow.

While the veteran mercenaries were whistling in surprise, Kamila, who had cut down five uruks in one go, approached with great strides and slapped Kaisen on the cheek.

“Why are you crying? Are you crying because you did a good job? What should I do with you if you cry like a child on the battlefield? Are you asking to be killed?”

“…”

“You said you wanted to kill the uruks! Is that kind of mindset suitable for such a task? How many people would you need trailing after you to protect you if you lost your mind in every battle?

She continued. “In the world of swords, no one will come to help you if you cry! No one will come! You have to fight through it with only your sword!”

That solitude was the weight of fate, and the boy who’d started on the path of the sword had no choice but to endure it. Kamila wanted to tell him that there was no time to cry on that path of pain, sadness, and despair.

“Kamila, stop. Kaisen knows,” Wolf said.

Rather than crying, Kaisen was laughing in the rain.

Only after Wolf hugged him and patted him on the back for a long time did he begin to quietly cry in desperate grief.

[Perhaps that was the day the boy’s childhood truly ended…]

Wolf’s conclusion on the matter was that the hero’s childhood ended on that day.

Afterward, Kaisen became a member of the corps, and it was recorded that he played an active role as a swordsman on every battlefield.

“Emergency call from the left wing; the front line is being trampled by one hundred and fifty Blache Wolf cavalry!”

“Hey, troublemaker, you go. If you make a mistake like last time, you’ll be left behind.”

“I won’t.” Kaisen killed and killed again.

Each time he killed, he practiced the basics of the , and his blows became more clean and cruel.

“Is that the same brat who was beaten like a dog by Lady Kamila?”

“Should I say he’s strong or brutal…?”

“If this continues, calling him the Uruk Slayer won’t be just a joke. Seriously.”

He cut again and again—any uruk he saw had to die.

Battle became his life, and the pungent odor of blood and leather clung to him like perfume.

“Kaisen.”

“Kaisen, you handle it.”

“Kaisen, you go.”

Battle, war, and slaughter. He fought shoulder-to-shoulder with mercenaries, killed uruks who had ravaged villages, and even served as a reserve force in place of Kamila.

Four years passed like that.

In those four years, the boy became a swordsman, early summer passed, and they entered midsummer.

“Retreat?”

Griffins were humanity’s best express communication system. As usual, the griffin riders brought news of defeat.

“Yes, it looks like they decided they couldn’t hold the line any longer.”

“All troops are to retreat to the fortress wall of the Inferno Line and regroup. This is a direct order from His Excellency Marshal Krauzan.”

After those four years passed, the first act of the war ended without any signs of the gods.

“Hey, troublemaker,” Kamila called to the boy sharpening his blade on a whetstone some distance away.

The boy, a senior member of the corps, raised his head without saying a word.

It was, of course, Kaisen, who’d challenged Kamila to a duel four years prior without realizing it was a vain effort.

“?” Aside from growing taller, Kaisen’s appearance had also changed a lot, starting with his clothes.

He wore quilted armor as raggedy as the messy hair hanging loosely over his eyes. The sword he had been sharpening was modeled after the Great Holy Sword, Aradamantel. Its blade was as long as he was tall.

“It’s been a while since I gave you homework,” Kamila said.

Indeed, four years was a long time—long enough for an innocently smiling and playful boy to turn into a heartless swordsman.

“It looks like the uruks are moving toward ‘Fortress 7’ on the Inferno Line, so you should go first and protect it.”

“How many enemies?” Kaisen asked.

“How should I know? If the vanguard landed, then there should be about a thousand.”

“What do I get?”

“I’ll teach you another form.”

“Only one form for fighting a thousand uruks? Teach me three.”

“You don’t even have that many balls. Do you even have a conscience?”

“?”

“One,” Kamila reiterated. “Instead of something minor, I’ll teach you the form of the Cross Sword Style most famous for killing.”

Kaisen agreed. He stood up and slung his sword onto his back. The watching mercenaries cheered.

“Hehe, it’s Kaisen again!”

“Lady Kamila has been entrusting all of the important missions to Kaisen these days.”

“I can’t use anyone other than this brat because you guys are nothing but trash,” Kamila scoffed.

Meanwhile, Kaisen’s expression remained cold.

“Don’t mess around and end up dying before you even pay me back for feeding you. Just protect the line. I’ll take care of the main force.”

Kaisen gave Kamila a glare, as if to ask if she was joking, and answered with a sneer. “You should worry about the uruks instead.”

____