Tale of the Fake Hero

Chapter 16 – The End of Childhood, Battle of Aristapo (7)

“The Crimson Lotus?”

“Crimson Lotus’s son?”

The uruk warriors mumbled the name in confusion.

Was there an uruk who didn’t know who the Crimson Lotus was?

If there was someone who was more shocked than the uruks, it was Wolf. “If it’s the Crimson Lotus, then that means… He’s the leader’s son?”

What Kamila said about half a year prior flashed through his mind.

“This shortsword… I gave it to my master as a gift.”

His mind went completely blank. Had she been telling the truth? Kaisen was the son of Captain Raminea… Suddenly, a burst of laughter welled up from deep within him.

“Yes, so she was happy, in the end.” Everyone in the corps respected her and prayed for her happiness… The answer to their prayers was Kaisen.

‘Wait a minute, doesn’t that mean…’ Wolf was startled and looked down at Kamila, who was wheezing with difficulty. She had been particularly harsh to Kaisen.

“He is the Crimson Lotus’s son…?” A smile formed on Kishun’s lips. He shouted at the uruk warriors who were surrounding Kaisen, forcing them to retreat.

“Where is the proof that you are the Crimson Lotus’s son?”

Kaisen responded with a glance toward the blood-covered uruk bodies he’d left in his wake. Just as his mother did that day, he would protect his most precious treasure.

“Hahahaha! I like it! I like it very much! Yes, this is as it should be!” Kishun had a habit of getting excited in front of his opponents.

Kishe, his adjutant and younger brother, who knew this well, spoke in the old language. “Wait, Kishun, even if you have the skill to fight such an opponent, there’s no guarantee that he’s the Crimson Lotus’s son.”

“No, there is. Take a good look at his cheek.”

“Hmm? The Balkrush Clan’s emblem?”

Since Balkarro became the chief, they had been reigning as the top clan, overtaking the Kiral Clan.

“Balkarro, that guy came to visit my father. I overheard that he killed the Crimson Lotus,” Kishun said.

“What…?”

“I recall him saying the method wasn’t very honorable? He let her son live and told Father not to touch him until he became a warrior, saying he was his prey.”

Kishe let out a laugh. There were more than enough reasons to accept the Kaltake. To put it briefly, it was killing two birds with one stone. “Isn’t it an honor to kill the Crimson Lotus’s son?”

“By touching Balkarro’s prey, we can even make him attack us first,” Kishun added.

Kishe burst into laughter and nodded. Without any technical instructions, he led the uruk soldiers and secured a place for the duel.

“Greeshe (I accept it),” Kishun said.

Thunderous shouts poured out from the Uruk warriors.

“WUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

The cheers were so great that the area shook.

Wolf shouted in desperation. “Stop it, Kaisen! We’re okay, so go! You have to live!”

“What is the first rule of the corps?” Kaisen asked.

“What…?”

“You never abandon your comrades.”

Wolf trembled once again. When he thought about it, Kaisen had an uncanny resemblance to their former leader—from his reckless personality to his facial expressions when faced with the lives and deaths of his comrades…

“Wait a minute while I stop the bleeding, Kamila,” Wolf said.

Kaisen unsheathed the sword from his belt and held it firmly with his right hand; then, he crossed the blades to make a cross before glancing back at Wolf and saying, “I’m going to kill this bastard and take you both with me.”

Kishun rolled his shoulders and relaxed. Rainwater ran down his claws, reflecting the light of the sun. “Please don’t disappoint me. Son of the Crimson Lotus, Kaisen!”

What did he hold the sword for? Kaisen thought about his mother’s question from his childhood.

“How does our Kai want to use this sword?”

‘Mother, how do I want to use the sword? At a moment like this? Truly, I wanted to use it in a moment like this, exactly like the day you left.’

“Mom’s most precious treasure in the world.”

Tight tension led to suffocating tension, and tension led to bloating, a tightness in the abdomen. Kaisen’s heart beat quietly as he stood facing Kishun in the pouring rain.

Light flickered wildly in their eyes.

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“…!”

“…!”

The next moment, at the point where the combatants met, metal clashed, and a horrifying sound screeched out.

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Claaaaang—!

Rain and wind exploded outward with sparks.

Kaisen, holding his sword in his left hand and his scabbard in his right hand, attacked first.

Clang, clang, thump, clang—

Deflecting the incoming claws away with his scabbard, he cut with his blade, blocked the other claw with the scabbard, and then pushed Kishun back.

“UHAAAAAA!”

“Amazing!”

The uruk warriors were truly amazed. The shock was bound to be even greater for Wolf, who had been watching Kaisen for a long time.

‘A draw? Against the next chief, Kishun?’

In theory, it was possible. The Cross Sword Style was a sword dance—swordsmanship that tricked the opponent through a combination of dance-like moves.

‘It is also a counter technique that turns the power of an overwhelmingly strong opponent back on them.’

That would only be possible if the opponent followed common sense, right…?

“HUAAAAAAAΛΗΗΗΗ一!” Kishun swung both claws in one breath with great enthusiasm. He crossed his arms and tried to crush Kaisen.

Cross Sword Style – 1st Form, Full Circle.

Kishun’s blow should have landed, but it didn’t. Metal clashed with a dull thump, creating sparks from the friction of their passing.

“Listen carefully, the Cross Sword Style is a technique of connections.”

Cross Sword Style- 2nd Form, Pierce.

Defense suddenly turned into offense. The sharp edge of Kaisen’s blade flashed.

Kishun quickly leaned back, but the tip of the boy’s sword had already grazed his eyebrow.

‘No way…?’

‘An effective blow on Kishun…?’

‘A human kid like that…?’

The uruks could no longer cheer. They just nervously watched Kaisen’s flashy swordplay.

“Impressive. Very impressive.” Kishun took a step back and let out a dark laugh. The taste of the blood flowing from his eyebrow was sweet.

His blood… his blood is boiling.

Kishun loved fighting at the border of life and death. At times like that, he felt that he was more alive than ever.

“This is it. What is a fight? Like this? It’s supposed to be fun? This is the real fight!” Again, Kishun rushed forward and thrust his left claw at Kaisen. At the same time, he swung his right claw horizontally.

Kaisen kicked the ground and jumped into the air to avoid the blow. The sight of the claws passing right under his eyes was terrifying. With the momentum of his body, he spun like a top and drove a deep slash into the uruk’s’ right shoulder.

“KUAAAAAAAHHH!” Kishun let out a groan that was almost like a scream.

Kaisen spoke from a distance, crossing his sword and scabbard again. “If you wanted to live long, you should have killed me. You heard me back then, right?”

In response to Kaisen’s unexpected provocation, the uruks waved their fists and cheered for Kishun.

“Ro Robishie!”

“Gotake derma!”

The sound, all those sounds… They were just a buzz in the dying Kamila’s ears.

‘I’m sick of it now…’ Kamila originally did not like the world of swords. Even being born into a swordsman family was a curse to her.

“Kamila, the Fake Warrior will come looking for a disciple today. You should not come out. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Don’t call me that!”

Kamila was a maid. She was not a being born out of love, but a being born out of lust and pleasure.

Was that why the world was so cold? Was it inevitable that it would be cold, dark, and cruel?

She didn’t even have the courage to seek death but just hoped that she would get sick and die quickly.

It certainly was that way… until she met Raminea.

“And who is this child?”

“You don’t need to see that. Rather than that…”

“Is ‘that’ your name? Isn’t that a bit too much for a father?” Ignoring the embarrassed head of the family, Raminea approached Kamila, who was squatting in the corner, and made eye contact with her. “Hello, my name is Raminea. What’s your name?”

The smile when she said that was so dazzling, warm, and touching…

Tears welled up in Kamila’s eyes, as she had never received such a smile before. “Kamila…”

“Kamila? Oh, my goodness. That’s a really cute name. The face is cuter, though.” Raminea smiled brightly and stretched out her hand to Kamila. “Kamila, do you want to go with me?”

It wasn’t just a hand—it was a beam of light shining into the darkness. It was a torch of dawn that brightened the endless night.

“Yes…!”

She didn’t ask about her talent with the sword; she didn’t ask about aptitude, characteristics, or potential. Raminea simply looked at Kamila for who she was and chose her as her disciple.

If loving a person without a reason was a mother’s privilege, then to Kamila, Raminea was her mother.

“You don’t have to be my disciple, Kami.”

“What?”

“Being a Fake Warrior… It’s not worth doing. I don’t want to leave a heavy burden on you.”

Kamila tried desperately, swung her sword, and worked on her footwork until she collapsed from exhaustion. She wanted to become her disciple. If she became her disciple, she would be able to stay by her side forever.

She would become a unique being in the world. That was all she wanted in life.

“Master. This… is a birthday present.”

“Oh my, such a pretty thing… What should I do? I’m so happy right now that I’m crying.”

“I saved up little by little to buy it. You might not like it because you have a holy sword.”

“No! I will treasure it for the rest of my life…”

Her master was a hero. She was the light, not only for Kamila, but also for the world.

Countless talented people gathered under her, thrilled by her brilliance, and Kamila was able to meet countless people under her master.

She believed that the peace would last forever. She had a dream of living with her master in peace after the war, but the world didn’t care for dreams.

“She died in battle.”

“What…?”

“Sorry… In the end, in the end… to defeat the Avatar-level demon…”

The light. The light of the world had disappeared.

Kamila lost the will to live that day. Holy Sword Aradamantel, which could be said to be a keepsake from her teacher, was passed down to Kamila.

She cut again and again; killed and killed again, and put the hatred of losing her teacher into her blade. She’d planned to live and die like that, believing her death was gradually approaching.

“Give it back… It’s my mother’s one and only keepsake…”

Then that kid, her teacher’s son, appeared. He resembled her teacher with his eyebrows, gaze, body language, and even facial expressions while crying to the point she found it painful to deal with him.

“Teach me how to use the sword…”

She couldn’t leave him alone. She’d tried to scare him away and make him not even think about picking up a sword, but he kept attacking her, even though she wanted him to live a normal life.

It was clear that, if he continued like that, he would go somewhere and die, so she ended up teaching him. She began to conserve her strength during battles. She hadn’t much time left, but she wanted to live for as long as possible.

She wanted to live a little longer… just until she taught the sword she learned from her teacher to her teacher’s son.

She gave no affection, though. No, she was jealous and treated him harshly so that she wouldn’t like him—so that he didn’t suffer like she did.

She knew better than anyone else—better than anyone else in the world—the pain of being left alone. If he went through that kind of pain twice, he might die.

This was her repayment to her teacher. It was true that she was jealous of him because she thought he had stolen her teacher’s love, but that was not why she treated him harshly.

All of it was for him, who was destined to be separated from her in the near future.

That was why…

It was definitely like that…

In the face of death, Kamila felt her eyes heating up. The world blurred.

‘Why, you…? Why did you come to save me…?’

“La Kamila Tel Kaisen Kidero Belru.” The echo of those memories was broken by Wolf’s absent-minded muttering.

“Yes, that’s it! Kamila! That’s it!” Wolf exclaimed.

“…?”

“‘La Kamila tel kaisen kidero belu.’ It’s a proverb of the dragon people.” Wolf’s voice shook with excitement, and tears welled up in his eyes. “It means that every meeting is a fate given by the gods as a gift.”

“…!”

“Kamila, the leader named her own son with you in mind!”

一Crrraaaaaassssshhhhh!

The sound was so loud that it felt like their eardrums would be torn apart.

Kaisen hit the ground and stepped back with all his might, panting for breath. His wrist felt like it was going to break.

‘There is no chance of winning if I keep directly going against him. I have to come up with another plan.’

With his next blow, Kaisen redirected his blade into a tree to his left.

“…!” Large and small pieces of wood broke into countless fragments and rained down like bullets, forcing Kishun to cross his arms in order to protect his face.

Using that moment, Kaisen jumped and targeted that momentary opening with a decisive blow.

‘This bastard…’ The moment Kaisen jumped, Kishun uncrossed his arms and pulled back with all his might, preparing to kill the boy. Even though a small chip stuck in his chin and a long piece of wood went deep into his left eyeball, he was still smiling.

Wolf’s urgent cry echoed out. “Kaisen!”

Kaisen quickly crossed his sword and scabbard and switched from offense to defense, but it was already too late.

The claws impacted directly against the metal of Kaisen’s sword, which screamed from the force of the blow and broke.

Kaisen’s scabbard also shattered, scattering wood and sword fragments through the air.

‘Huh一?’ It hurt. The joints in his wrists and arms felt like they’d been ripped apart. If he hadn’t been thrown far away by the force, his bones would have shattered.

He felt the pain of his internal organs being torn apart.

‘Wake up. Wake up quickly.’ Kaisen rolled several times, coughed blood, and tried to get up while doing his best to catch his breath.

‘Even my eyes hurt…’ A sword fragment was lodged in his forehead, and his vision was red and blurry as blood covered his sight. In the fading light, he saw Kishun walking toward him.

“It’s the end. Was it great?” Kishun asked.

It was really over. Even if he tried to stand up, what could he do if he didn’t have a sword?

“Son of Crimson Lotus? Kaisen…”

Kaisen’s eyes trembled. His heartbeat accelerated.

“I will remember your name, my friend.”

Step, step—

Kishun raised his claw for the killing blow.

Whoong—

Wolf’s eyes widened. ‘What the…?’

In the epicenter of the sudden, dazzling light was the Great Holy Sword, Aradamantel.

Whoong, whoong, whoong, whoong, whoong—

Like a beating heart, bright-red energy danced on the silver-white sword. It was the blade’s unique energy.

Wolf was thrilled. ‘No way. The holy sword… is crying on its own?’ The Great Holy Sword only sang when held by its chosen owner.

‘Who’s holding you now, Aradamantel?

The sword floated into the air on its own, leaving red afterimages fluttering beautifully in the wind and rain—right into Kaisen’s hand.

As if time itself were stopped, Kaisen saw everything accurately and clearly.

“Guh…?”

Uruks fiercely howling…

Kishun trying to put an end to the match…

The weight of Great Holy Sword Aradamentel flew into his hand, and it cried out as he caught it.