The Legendary Spearman Returns

Side Story Chapter 61

‘What can I do?’

The question had lingered on Kireua’s mind forever. Combat power? Kireua’s was definitely not better than Selim’s, who was known to have inherited all the talent of the Emperor. Forces under his command? Kireua had zero knights that were loyal to him.

Avalon, the Empire of Knights, had a popular tradition. A knight swore their loyalty to one master and one master only until the day that knight died. There was a reason why the tradition was especially meaningful: the master’s order overrode even an Imperial order.

‘Selim has one hundred of them and made a knight order from them,’ Kireua thought.

Obviously it wasn’t something that had always been possible. While Emperor Marcus had reigned, imperial orders had superseded law, but everything changed after the current emperor took the throne. Kireua knew why the current emperor quelled all objections and persisted in implementing this rule. It was for Cain de Harry, the Martial God’s first knight. For the man he had chosen to serve, he had raised his sword against the head of the family that had taken him under its wings. Cain had also confronted an emperor, so the Emperor must have wanted to protect Cain’s honor.

‘So I need loyal colleagues who I can always trust to have my back.’

“Sir Ranger,” he said, raising his head as he reached a conclusion.

“Go on.”

“I think the terms are a little unfair.”

“Pardon?” Ranger tilted his head in confusion.

“Please swear your loyalty to me as a knight if I win.”

“What…?” Ranger's eyes widened. “I’m the vice-commander of the Imperial Knights.”

“There is no law prohibiting an Imperial Knight from serving a master. From what I know, you haven’t sworn your loyalty to His Majesty as a knight.”

“…Are you serious? If I choose you as my master, I ought to resign from my post as vice-commander,” Ranger reminded Kireua.

Such was the dilemma of the tradition. The Imperial Knights were expected to uphold Imperial orders more strictly than anyone else, so what would happen if they prioritized their masters’ orders? What if those very masters plotted treason? The Imperial Knights were in charge of guarding the members of the Imperial Family from their side, the Knights would become the world’s deadliest assassins.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that part.” Kireua shrugged, but Ranger was anything but reassured. “Once I ascend the throne, it won’t be an issue.”

Ranger's eyes widened.

Kireua thrust his sword without hesitation.

Their blades clashed in the air. Coal was currently asleep, so this was the perfect opportunity to test Kireua’s original power. He had an excellent opponent.

“Mmm…” Ranger grunted. He discovered that the impact was stronger than he had expected. It had been over a decade since their first spar when the Second Prince had been a little kid.

“That little kid is now using aura… You’ve come a long way,” Ranger quietly said.

Kireua didn’t answer because Ranger was clearly underestimating him. He intended to exploit that advantage by going all-out from the start.

The muscles around Kiruea’s eyes bulged, signifying that he was using mana for optical enhancement, revealing the mana flows that only Kireua could see. On top of that, he used the exquisite principles of the Magic Spear Art reshaped into swordcraft.

Ranger's eyes slowly widened as he realized what he was seeing.

Their blades had been locked against each other, but Kireua’s sword was slowly sliding down Ranger’s. Kireua wasn’t pushing Ranger’s sword away with superior force—it was literally sliding down Ranger’s sword, producing a headache-inducing squeal as it traveled. It didn’t make any sense. How could it happen unless Ranger oiled his sword?

Ranger put more weight on his sword and stopped Kireua’s sword from sliding down any further.

But that was what Kireua had been aiming for.

Ranger lost his balance when the resistance against his sword suddenly disappeared. Ranger had blocked Kireua’s sword from the left, pushing to the right, anchoring down Kireua’s sword. However, Kireua abruptly let go of his sword and whipped his body around in a full circle.

Ranger raised the arm that wasn’t holding the sword to defend himself against the heavy back kick.

“Ugh…!” Ranger groaned. It felt like his guts were being rattled.

Kireua was covered with a layer of his mana as he delivered his kick, something that only a Master could do, given the fragility of human flesh.

The biggest issue was that trying to apply a half-baked understanding of this skill during battle could result in losing body parts. No matter how well one was covered in mana, they were still using human flesh as weapons against swords that were also enveloped in mana. Even the mighty Akshuller, the legendary figure recorded in the annals of history for his close combat skills, always used knuckle dusters and gaiters as replacements for his weapons.

However, there was one single exception in this world. That person had favored spears, which had once been looked down upon as the stuff of the common infantryman, but close-combat skills were necessary to make up for the spear’s disadvantages. Despite the weapon’s long reach, a spear user became vulnerable if their enemy successfully closed the distance. The Emperor of Avalon’s close-combat skills were very advanced, and he didn’t have to resort to any other equipment.

Ranger couldn’t help ask another question at this point.

“Didn’t you give up on spears?” Ranger asked.

“I did give up on spears.”

“Then how…?”

“Is there a law prohibiting swordsmen from cultivating their close combat skills?” Kireua smiled.

Ranger blinked. It wasn’t impossible, but it was very inefficient, even when it was to compensate for the disadvantages of long weapons. On top of that, it wasn’t like close combat techniques were more effective than using a sword.

“If you can’t understand me, then experience it for yourself,” Kireua said.

“Pardon?”

“I have one more leg, you know,” Kireua said, and jumped.

Using the leg that Ranger had blocked as his fulcrum, Kireua delivered another fierce kick with his other leg.

“…Urgh!” Ranger almost stumbled. This series of events he couldn’t understand. The second kick was the same as the kick from before, but the impact was greater.

Ranger finally noticed the veins were bulging out around Kireua’s eyes and realized that it wasn’t just because of Kireua’s mana utilization technique—that was the mana optical enhancement technique devised by Cain de Harry, the Combat Emperor Star.

“This is it.” Kireua gritted his teeth, focusing all his mana into his legs. He leaped in the air and delivered an unending flurry of scissor kicks.

Ranger lost his grip on his sword early into the barrage and covered his head with his crossed arms. Kireua kept landing kicks on top of them for a long time.

“Ahhhh!” Kireua shouted. Ever since he had decided to build his forces, he was struggling with all his might for the first time.

The petty word “talent” was a pale imitation of the word “effort”—and that word was the only way to describe Kireua’s life.

* * *

Joshua, the man who seemed furthest from the word effort, smiled.

“Are you going to continue?” he prompted.

Cain paused.

“You’ve gotten quite old, so it won’t be easy to train five hundred people at once. Why don’t we stop here?” Joshua suggested.

Cain had even drawn his sword, so Joshua tried to save the Imperial Knights and mages while saving Cain’s face at the same time. That was why Joshua used the word “train”. If Joshua were to describe this situation with “reproach” or “reprimand”, it wouldn’t really seem right for Cain to withdraw his sword.

“…You’re the same as usual, Your Majesty,” Cain said quietly.

“Huh?”

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?”

“…I’m sorry. I have my reasons. I’ll explain that right now, so why don’t you put down your sword first—”

“No, I won’t.”

Joshua gave him a confused look.

“Do your job, Your Majesty. I’ll do mine.” Cain tightened his grip on his sword.

“Sir Cain! Are you going to defy His Majesty’s order?” one of the Imperial Knights yelled.

“The priority of an oath-sworn knight is to ensure his master’s safety.”

“That very master has given you his order!”

“Then let me ask you this: if you had been given the order to abandon your master on the battlefield and flee on your own, could you obey it?” Cain snapped back.

“Your example doesn’t even make sense—!”

“That is how I feel.”

The Imperial Knights closed their mouths.

“He ordered me to wait, so I obeyed. I stayed cooped up in the Palace and waited. Over a decade has passed like that. My whole life was about my master, so even while the whole country turned into a mess, I looked for one man. And most of my hair turned white and I reached an age where calling me grandpa isn’t strange. This is the result of my faith and my waiting,” Cain bitterly said. “A scumbag that doesn’t listen to his master’s order? I’m sure not many people in the world would be able to say that to me.”

Right after Cain finished speaking, he drew up his energy, releasing a radiant yet fierce storm that clawed at the nearby area.

“Aaagh…!” the Imperial Knights groaned.

“You guys failed the duty that you should have upheld, so you need to be punished. Of course, the same goes for me.”

At this point, that was unclear to whom Cain was speaking to.

As time passed, the storm got stronger. There was only one person who could stop Cain right now.

“…Cain.” Joshua stepped forward.

“If your order still remains the same, I’ll withdraw my sword.”

Joshua was about to say something, but he flinched.

“In return, it will be your last order for me because I will annul my first and last oath as a knight.”

“…What?!” Joshua gasped. He wasn’t the only one. Eyes were nearly popping out of skulls all around the training hall.

A knight made their oath only once in their lifetime, so it could never be taken lightly. Even if a knight annulled their oath, they were never allowed to wield their swords for other people again. In other words, the knights had to snap their swords in half once they decided to revoke their oath—they had to destroy their mana halls.

“S-Sir Cain…” Iceline stammered.

WIth things having gone this far, even Iceline had trouble keeping her composure—but on the other hand, she could understand Cain. Cain had been waiting with an empty heart for over a decade. It felt like eons; Iceline knew how empty he must have felt. In fact, she understood him in her bones. Remembering still made Iceline feel suffocated.

Icelien quietly grabbed Joshua’s hand, worried that he would disappear again, and squeezed it tightly. Joshua looked at her and his face darkened.

“…Here’s the deal,” Joshua said, turning to look at Cain. “I admit I’m selfish. There is no master or husband that is as irresponsible as me.”

“…So you actually knew?” Cain asked disbelievingly.

“Of course—so, as the continent’s most selfish man, I want to be stubborn again.”

“What…?”

“I know I did a stupid thing, but I don’t want to lose my competent subordinate. I know there is no precedent for this in all of history, but as your master, I’ll challenge my knight in Berche’s Bloody Battle.”

The Imperial Knights gasped, unable to contain their surprise.

Berche’s Bloody Battle was a simple and straightforward tradition of the Avalon Empire where the winner had total control over the loser.

“Will you accept my challenge?” Joshua asked.

This tradition was about to take place between the two strongest men in the history of the Avalon Empire.