Sword Pilgrim

Rumble!

The wagon shook loudly as the wheels hit a protruding stone. Bruns, the driver, glanced back at the compartment, but Callius was still immersed in thought and didn’t say anything.

‘Things have changed a lot.'

The northern lands, originally supposed to be destroyed, did not collapse, and the minions of the empire, who should’ve been running rampant, lost their momentum because of Callius' Sword of Judgment.

A lot had already changed.

Including appearance of information that he’d never known about in the game.

That didn't make what he knew worthless, but it did mean he could no longer be certain in his knowledge.

‘Is it okay to continue like this?'

The answer, was no.

Up until now, he’d only gotten stronger by himself.

There was no one who’d care about a maniac, so he hadn't exactly chosen to stand alone, rather he'd been compelled to.

But wasn't it different, now?

If you have to push yourself. If you have to try and do something beyond your scope. Those are the reasons for people to form groups.

Because there's a limit on how much one can achieve alone.

Callius knew which direction the majority of the important people in the Carpe were heading. If he could recruit them in advance and assimilate them into his own force, it’d become a pretty powerful faction.

As Callius’ thoughts reached that point, he looked up at the twins.

‘They aren’t useless, at least.'

Unlike Bruns, who only ever knew to dumbly stare at him –

Nurturing these people would benefit him.

Orphin still had room for growth, and the twins had even more potential than that.

Rivan and Rinney.

When they came of age, they’d go and make great achievements on the frontlines against the empire in the West.

Things had changed a lot from the original scenario, and Callius’ tossing and turning had made them lose all support, but that didn’t diminish their future potential.

So they were worth nurturing.

More than Bruns, anyhow.

‘But it's annoying.'

Although they were worth nurturing –

That didn’t mean he wanted to do it himself.

Who knew how long it’d take for them to grow up enough to be worth using? For such a vague promise of reward, should he give up even his own training and time?

When even his own path was blocked by a wall?

Also, little kids were annoying.

‘Should I send them to the academy instead?'

If it was just to give some help, that wasn’t such a big problem.

Originally, he’d been thinking of sending Emily there to broaden her horizons, but then Rivan and Rinney came along.

If he didn't accept their request, they really might die.

It didn't really matter if they died or not, but they’d been together on the battlefield for a little while.

It wasn’t that it wouldn't help later, either, so thinking about the future of Carpe, there was nothing wrong with helping them out a little.

“Orphin.”

“Yes, please tell me.”

“I’ll send Rivan and Rinney to the Royal Academy. You must bring the necessary documents and items.”

“R-, really!?”

Rinney, of course, and even Rivan, widened their eyes in amazement. They looked like they hadn’t expected this at all.

Orphin was just as happy.

“It’s not just about sending them there to study swordsmanship.”

"Then…?”

“The Royal Academy has many children from Carpe’s nobility. You two need to build relationships with the children of the nobles I’ll point out.”

It was kind of a deal.

He’d help the twins.

And the twins would form bonds with noble children, which would be helpful to him later.

This investment would definitely give him returns in the future, so in the long run, it was a pretty good deal for Callius too.

“Some of them would be helpful later, and some, not. Rinney will connect with the helpful guys. Rivan will have to make friends with the unhelpful.”

“…”

“Uh, what? Unhelpful…?”

Callius considered whether or not to talk clearly about it, but they’d eventually find out anyway, so he ended up confiding in them.

“Rivan, the children of the nobles you should become friends with, will all be children of the corrupt people I will punish.”

“…”

Rivan's face turned white.

Callius was telling Rivan to catch hold of their weaknesses in advance.

“Your mission is going to be a big one, so if you don’t like it, tell me. Instead of you…”

“No, not Rinney. I’ll do it.”

Rivan couldn’t handle even the gentlest of taunts.

Or was it his pride as a brother?

Most of the children of the corrupt nobles resembled their parents, so they’d get along well with Rivan.

Because Rivan was also one of them at his core.

In any case, it was as simple as letting Rivan investigate and pass to Callius the information about their parents, one by one.

He might feel guilt and it might even be risky, since he’d have to stay close to those parents to find things out, but that was none of Callius’ business.

“It’s a deal.”

This chapter upload first at NovelUsb.Com

“Yeah, this is a deal.”

The twins were using him too.

And he was using them in turn.

It was just a transaction, so there were no lingering debts on either side.

Rivan put his hand out.

It looked like he wanted to shake hands to complete the transaction. He was a cheeky bastard to the end.

"Handshake. It’s a deal.”

Callius snorted.

The little boy was still as stiff-necked as he’d always been.

“Put that away. Shaking hands is only done when people are on an equal footing. Don’t forget your current circumstances.”

Rivan flushed and clenched his fists.

Reprimanding him like this was necessary.

Because the arrogant edges of his personality needed to be smoothed out a bit.

“Everyone, we’re here!”

“Then, the story ends with this. Because there’s another spoiled bastards I need to deal with."

As Callius got off the carriage, he found the inquisitors of the Sixth Inquisitorial Squad already waiting, glaring at him with malice in their eyes.

That bastard just now, and now these bastards too.

“You’re all cheeky.”

Seeing the rows upon rows of sullen eyes –

Callius felt like today he should exert himself a bit.

“Here you are, Boss.”

"Yeah."

They’d use ordinary iron swords.

There were no other rules in this sparring match.

“What was your name again? Dingo?”

“It’s Diego.”

The lieutenant of the sixth squad.

Diego.

He had neatly trimmed blue hair, and a plain face except for a scar on his cheek.

“Diego. Let me ask you one thing. What are you doing this for?”

All he'd mentioned he wanted was the right to not listen to Callius’ orders.

So Callius didn't know what he was truly hoping for in his heart.

Did he want the captaincy?

So Callius simply asked.

What his true intention was.

Diego answered with bloodshot eyes, holding his iron sword at an angle.

"I know. That you killed our captain.”

Callius’ facial expression didn’t change.

“And how do you think you know that?”

“If not, prove it. With that great Sword of Judgment of yours.”

“I don’t have to, though.”

“No? You hypocritical bastard. I've already looked at the captain's body. His neck had clear marks that seemed to be the work of a beast, but nowhere else.”

Instead, there were traces of a sword.

“You’re the only possibility.”

"Right."

“Do you admit it?”

“What if I do?”

It was okay to skip the sword duel. The Church didn’t care, anyway.

Besides, he’d already became the captain, and since he was a Jervain with the title of a count, it shouldn't be a big deal.

And –

‘Druma and Ryburn were going to die, anyway.'

Those two were always bound to die.

Although it could be said that all the people in the world were bound to die sooner or later, those two had a strong relationship with the extremist faction, so they would’ve definitely died at his hands in the future.

Or they’d die in the civil war.

Either way, they were dead men walking.

The archbishop was going to make his arrangements soon, and both of them were his pawns.

“I will take revenge.”

“Are you capable of that?”

"Fully!"

Whoosh–!

Dodging the sword that came at an angle –

Callius noticed the strong aura it contained.

Although it was supposed to be only a spar, the aura gave that the lie.

Callius glanced at Genos, standing nearby, because this was absurd.

“Are you going to just let this go?”

“It’s fun, so yeah.”

Genos grinned strangely at who knew what he found funny, and declined to intervene.

The referee was also a madman, adding on to the absurdity of the situation, but there was nothing Callius could do about it.

‘I just have to smash him down.'

The sword that came at him, no matter how strong it looked on the surface, felt shallow.

Apparently, it was only the barks of a rude dog that didn’t know its place. If that were the case, then it should be enough to demonstrate the overwhelming disparity between them.

Even though he was blocked by a wall right now, he wasn’t at a level where guys like these could dream about beating him.

Deputy Commander Diego might’ve been the best among the paladins in the squad –

“Yeah, I guess you're just a lieutenant.”

But he was weaker than the captain.

Things were going strangely.

The crowd of people who’d been blatantly clamouring for Callius’ death at the start of the match, were now keeping their mouths shut.

“…”

“…”

In the midst of that suffocating silence –

Only the two little children Callius had brought with him were chattering as if they were having fun.

"You saw?"

"Yeah. The count turned the sword round in a circle, so even though that blue-haired guy was chopping down with both hands, he still got redirected and hit the ground instead.”

Rivan and Rinney, who’d climbed a nearby tree to spy on the spar, were filled with excitement as they looked at Callius’ swordsmanship.

Although Rivan had been insulted with a fork in the North, he couldn’t help but know of Callius’ deeds there.

Because Callius was now called the Hero of the North, he had no choice but to respect the man as a knight, even if he was personally reluctant to do so.

While glancing up at the blatantly chattering twins, Orphin was internally full of surprise.

‘You’ve become stronger than ever.'

Callius now showed more sophisticated swordsmanship than when he’d been in the North.

It used to be strong and fast, but now it looked rather slow and powerless, but it was nevertheless even more efficient.

Should it be said that all unnecessary power has been pruned out? Should it be said that the opponent's power was being used against him?

“It looks like he's toying with his opponent.”

On the surface, Diego was attacking fiercely, and Callius was being pushed into defence.

But in fact, Diego was the one perplexed.

With minimal movement and minimal force, Callius parried and blocked his opponent’s sword.

If the opponent, frustrated, tried a big technique, Callius stabbed at the flaw that opened up.

“Hah, hah, hah. Huff –"

Of course, there were physical differences as well.

Diego attacked with divine power, but not Callius.

He was fighting without consuming almost any divine power.

"This…”

“This is Jervain’s trash?”

It was like watching an adult deal with a child.

Callius was consistently indifferent to Diego's attacks.

He was so relaxed that he didn't even need to raise his divine power.

How could there be such a difference in skill?

“This is the problem with you paladins. You tend to believe only in your divine power and neglect physical training. So now you’re out of breath."

Callius slowly raised his sword.

Looking at him pose as a teacher, Diego almost foamed at the mouth.

“Shut up!”

But the victor didn't change no matter how much his spittles flew.

As Diego's sword rushed in like a wild boar, Callius parried it with a flick and repelled it.

Claaaang–!

Whiiiish, th-ud–

The sword struck the floor, bouncing a few times. Diego fell to his knees at the same time.

“What a piece of garbage. Druma might’ve been satisfied with that, but I’m not. If the lieutenant's skills are like this, I can tell how skilled those below you would be."

"Ugh…”

Sparks flew from the eyes of the squad members who’d been gloomily watching their lieutenant's defeat.

“Are you sad? If you feel unhappy, feel free to come up and raise your sword like your lieutenant did. But it won't just be a spar this time."

It’d be a true duel.

A life-and-death duel between members of the Church.

Not with toy iron swords, but with carcasses.

“…”

“…”

It was a naked insult.

But no one came up.

Even Lieutenant Diego had been destroyed like that, so what could lowly squad members like them do?

“You’re all garbage. I was the idiot for thinking you guys would be of any use. Why would the subordinates be any different from their boss?”

At that bitter insult, everyone grabbed the swords they wore around the waist.

But Callius only laughed at them. Even if they grabbed their swords, no one dared to come up directly.

If they did come up, they wouldn’t be going down alive.

The stark difference in power had already been demonstrated.

“Are you feeling sad? This is how power works. Why do you think we are lagging behind the empire? Because the sword is weaker than the spear? No. We’re just weak. Why do you guys have no choice but to stand still and listen to my insults? Because you’re weak, too.”

The weak have no right to speak.

Power is providence itself in the world of man.

The strong act proud in front of the weak, but the weak can only bow infinitely low in front of the strong.

They can only lower their eyes and tremble, without any way to express their dissatisfaction.

Like a listless dog.

That was the current state of Carpe.

“No matter how many times the empire invades the kingdom, we can only defend. No matter what insults they throw at us, we can only persevere.”

Such was the disastrous ordeal that a powerless country had to suffer.

It hadn't been like this in the beginning.

A few hundred years ago, the sword and the spear had been evenly matched, and constantly at each other’s throats. But that was long ago.

The empire ate up the other nearby nations, and grew in power and reach.

Carpe didn't.

It was a small difference.

Carpe had the power to do it, but didn't. And this was how it ended up.

“How long are you going to live like that?”

“Then what should we do?”

One inquisitor shouted.

Almost crying.

He was a sensitive guy, for a paladin.

"It’s simple. You just have to become strong.”

“We practice all the time!”

“Then your training methods must’ve been wrong.”

Having said that, Callius stopped talking. Because a good idea had just popped into his head.

‘Wrong training method, huh?'

Now Callius himself was blocked by a wall. He’d tried everything he could, but the wall showed no signs of budging.

There didn’t seem to be any way out, except the ability of Death Verse Composition.

‘These guys could be my test subjects.'

Didn't someone say so?

The reason people teach is not for others, but for themselves.

By letting others know, you can know yourself more thoroughly.

“Follow me. You, with your rubbish skills… I’ll train you.”

Tock, tock, tock.

Heavy raindrops fell from the dim sky.

“Anyone who’s watched the spar should know. I didn't use even a single speck of divine power. How can that be?”

“Because your skills are so superior…”

The eyes of the lieutenant commander, who’d been lying on the floor in the training arena, turned to the person who’d spoken with a glare.

Callius slammed his fist into Diego's face.

Thud!

“Uggh!”

"Right. But it's only half right. Because I have high basic physical abilities. Even if you draw out your divine power and strengthen the functions of your body, you can’t overtake me. Then, consider, who’d have the upper hand?”

“Uh, you, Captain.”

Somebody finally called Callius Captain.

Callius smiled and nodded.

This fact is often overlooked.

What do you do with your divine power?

Mostly people use it draw out the power of their swords, or greatly increase their physical abilities.

However, the reality is that physical training is often neglected as a result.

Most of the techniques of praying to and beseeching God to improve the quality of your divine power, rather than physical power, are inefficient.

“And the efficiency of your technique is just garbage.”

“But we…”

All of them must’ve been trained by the Church.

But they were still trash.

Because the basic spiritual power training method was just that bad, with an abysmal efficiency.

“Then, what do you recommend, Captain?”

“It’s annoying to specify every detail. Rather, some sparring would be better for demonstration.”

“…”

The faces of the squad members contorted even more.

It wasn’t enough for them to be insulted, now they were going to be harassed under the guise of sparring?

“So come learn by yourselves, instead.”

“…?”

The faces of the members, who’d been trembling with shame and anger, brightened a little.

“Think, discuss, practice. And challenge those stronger than you to prove that you’re really bettering yourselves.”

You can’t force somebody to learn swordsmanship with just theoretical explanations.

It needs self-awareness, and self-realization.

Callius would let them understand the essence of swordsmanship from him.

“I will not force you.”

However –

“If you seek strength, follow. You will never regret it. And if anyone here ever beats me in a spar, I'll hand over the captaincy to them."

Leaving only those words behind –

Callius left without any regrets.

Editor's Notes:

None for this chapter.