TRWVPS 85

Chapter 85

“I will not fight Your Highness.”

With those words, Count Leon stepped toward the fallen Caron to finish what he had started.

Ferdin might still be standing, but it didn’t matter. That man wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on him.

All I need to do is take down Caron Lysus.

With that thought, Count Leon raised his sword.

Ferdin tried to understand what the Lady had said.

Even as he fought Leon, he kept thinking about her words. There had to be an answer in them.

She had seen the future, and in the end, she had found a path where no one died.

It was a future she had tried to reveal—even at the cost of her own life.

But Ferdin hadn’t been able to interpret her prophecy until every one of his trainee knights had fallen.

There was only one thing he could do now: grit his teeth and hold on as long as possible.

He had to buy time until Erin arrived.

I can’t be his match.

He knew that.

Yes, he had stepped into the realm of a high-ranking knight—but he was not a Sword Master.

And yet, at the very moment Leon raised his blade to strike down Caron, Ferdin felt as though time itself slowed.

He saw a vision—of a woman wielding a sword.

Dozens, hundreds of times she swung. Her hands blistered and bled, her body exhausted, but she never stopped.

Then, overwhelmed by grief, the woman burst into tears.

He was certain he had never seen her before, but strangely, just the sight of her made his chest ache unbearably.

Almost as if entranced, Ferdin raised his sword.

In that instant, he felt he could mimic her strike.

His blade flowed like water—and drove itself into Count Leon’s hand.

“Argh!”

Leon’s face twisted with rage.

How…?

He hadn’t been able to read Ferdin’s movement. How could Ferdin Rexia possibly have struck him? He couldn’t understand it.

Fury boiled inside him.

Leon hadn’t originally intended to fight Ferdin.

He knew the Emperor wanted the Second Prince dead, but without a direct order, striking him would only tarnish his own honor.

But now, since Ferdin had dared to attack, Leon changed his mind. He was certain the Emperor wouldn’t mind—he might even be pleased—if the Second Prince were injured in the process of eradicating black magic.

Then Ferdin spoke, his tone calm but resolute:

“If you want to kill my knights… you’ll have to kill me first.”

Leon looked at his injured hand, then answered in a voice trembling with anger:

“I won’t kill you. But I will cripple you.”

“Sir Erin, this way.”

The moment Erin entered the western forest, her senses picked up the presence of the knights.

Ferdin and his trainee knights would be there as well.

She quickened her pace. A heavy sense of foreboding pressed against her chest.

Everyone’s safe… right?

Her face grew grim as the worst-case scenario unfolded in her mind.

What if—by the time she arrived—they were already dead?

She couldn’t even imagine what she would become then. Could she remain human? Could she keep her sanity?

From the moment she had faced Dietrion in the training hall, rage had been clawing at her throat.

Soon, they reached a clearing in the heart of the forest.

Beside her, Derek screamed.

“Ferdin!”

Caron lay collapsed, Amon clutched a fatal wound in his abdomen, and Helix was unconscious—though still alive.

Erin’s eyes locked on Count Leon. His sword was pointed straight at Ferdin.

Ferdin stood bloodied, barely able to stand, but still shielding his knights with his blade.

“Erin Lysus?”

Leon noticed her presence.

Erin didn’t rush.

“Put down that sword. Before I kill you.”

“What?”

Leon was dumbfounded.

Today was the most insulting day he had lived since becoming a Sword Master.

Amon’s words had already been outrageous enough—but Erin had thrown courtesy out the window altogether.

“Unbelievable. Have you all lost your minds together?”

At that, Ferdin’s head turned slowly toward her.

She could see it—he had reached his limit.

Derek ran to Ferdin’s side and caught him, easing him to the ground. Ferdin’s breathing was ragged.

“Amon… Amon is hurt…”

Derek’s voice cracked in panic as he held Ferdin, his hands trembling.

“Damn it, Ferdin. You’re hurt too. What do I—ah, gods, what do I do…!”

Ferdin gestured weakly, and Derek nodded, rushing to Amon’s side.

Ferdin, lying on the ground, turned his head. Through his fading vision, he saw Erin.

“Erin…”

But he lost consciousness before he could finish.

Leon left him be. His attention was fixed solely on Erin now.

She walked toward Ferdin—one step at a time.

Bending down, she placed her ear against his chest.

Thump. Thump. His heart was still beating.

It’s fine.

He’s alive.

He hasn’t died.

Everything will be okay.

Erin repeated those words in her mind over and over. Because if she didn’t, the killing intent surging inside her would overwhelm her. She truly felt like she might turn into a monster.

Leon watched her and shook his head. She was just a newly admitted student in the academy’s advanced class.

From his perspective, she was nothing more than a fledgling. He had been curious to see her skills, given her talent, but…

For her to speak so brazenly to him—it was absurd.

They said she was the spoiled villainess raised under Marquis Lysus’s pampering. No wonder she was ill-mannered. He clicked his tongue.

“Just because the sword chose you, you think you can strut about? They said Marquis Lysus failed at raising his children—seems the rumor was right.”

“……”

“I’ve always hated House Lysus. Relying only on talent… I knew you would meet such an end someday.”

“……”

“Arrogant brat. There are things in this world that talent alone can never achieve.”

At those words, Erin lifted her head from Ferdin’s chest.

“You should know that better than anyone.”

Leon tilted his head in puzzlement.

“The ones who use the black magic you talk about—they never reach Sword Mastery in the end, do they?”

“That’s right. A Sword Master’s realm is one of enlightenment. Those who rely on shortcuts can never reach it!”

Leon raised his sword, mana gathering along its edge.

Aura—the mark of a Sword Master.

The Second Order knights watching were awestruck by its brilliance.

Leon smiled in satisfaction.

Yes. That’s the way they should look at me.

But when he looked at Erin, her eyes were flat and expressionless as she regarded his blade.

The lack of awe irritated him.

“Hmph. If you can’t even recognize what you’re seeing, no wonder you can’t grasp the greatness of aura.”

Still staring at him, Erin finally spoke.

“After becoming a Sword Master… did you continue training?”

“…What?”

Leon blinked. He hadn’t trained further after achieving Sword Mastery.

Why would he? There was nowhere higher to climb.

In the Empire, only Duke Asili could possibly be considered stronger than him.

And Asili was an exception—someone beyond reason. Better to avoid monsters like that, Leon believed.

So he didn’t answer. The question wasn’t worth his time.

“Arrogant little wretch…”

But before he could finish, his words caught in his throat.

His eyes widened in disbelief. His jaw dropped slack.

Erin was standing, sword in hand.

Everyone’s eyes shifted to the weapon she held.

Mana gathered along her blade—then coursed up through her arm, flooding her entire body.

Leon’s voice came out dazed and shaky:

“S-Sword… Sword Master?”

But how could that be possible?

He looked at her face—a mere girl, barely an adult.

And yet the mana blazing from her, undeniable proof of Sword Mastery, clashed against that youthful visage in a surreal, impossible contrast.