I Tried To Be Her Loyal Sword

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Chapter 12

Reiner, left in the alley where Kashmir had disappeared, slowly surveyed the remnants of her presence.

He gently brushed over the wound that had felt Kashmir’s touch. The throbbing heart ached more than the stinging injury.

‘You are…’

Still strong, still upright,

still unwilling to yield.

With her neatly aligned teeth, she relentlessly bit into her lip. The sharp fangs drew forth streams of crimson blood from her lips.

Emotions that had been pressed down relentlessly surged like a small boat meeting a storm. The churning stomach and the racing heart felt foolishly light.

‘If I had told you I was that child back then, would things have changed?’

He couldn’t even grip the handkerchief he had received, fearing it might crumple. Instead, he barely held onto its edge. His heart continued to race uncontrollably.

‘Since meeting you, sleepless dawns have become more frequent.’

He remembered that moment. When you, smaller than I, stood before me, holding a sharp sword. The day I could only watch you fight. The moment your small back seemed bigger than anything in the world.

Now, the boy who had become a young man was still afflicted by his first love.

‘I wanted to be stronger than you.’

Biting down on unbearable self-hatred, he clenched his hand that wasn’t holding the handkerchief. Distinct nail marks stained his palm.

Since that day, Reiner had returned to the capital and devoted himself entirely to swordsmanship practice, swinging his sword like a madman.

To surpass that back he had seen. To fight facing her.

So that, once and for all, he wouldn’t be powerless behind the one he loved.

‘But you…’

Blood trickled through the cracks in the fists he had clenched as if to shatter bones.

You had grown at a speed I could never catch up to and were now called a disaster.

To Reiner Ainhart, Kashmir was a distant idol, a benchmark he yearned for but could not touch. No matter how crazy a hunting dog he became in pursuit, she was always ahead of him.

‘Why are you so mercilessly kind?’

A plain white handkerchief without even a small embroidery.

Reiner stared at the handkerchief that had felt the touch of Kashmir for quite some time.

Though it was a common handkerchief that could be bought thousands over with Ainhart’s wealth, it was precious beyond bearing simply because it was given by her.

After tightly closing his eyes, when he opened them again, his gaze slowly shifted toward Ruwellin.

‘The person she saved.’

Her golden eyes sank deep, as if reaching the ocean floor.

Your merciless kindness did not only extend toward me.

Reiner was merely one of the lucky many who had received Kashmir’s affection, not her sole one.

‘It must be so.’

The golden glow of her eyes closed tightly. Reiner tried to forget everything about her that made him hopeful.

The violent aura that, though unleashed forcefully, didn’t strangle his breath. The sword that, while it made his throat bleed, didn’t pierce too deeply. The face of someone who, upon being disturbed, would desperately feign calmness. The softness with which she would glance at him suspiciously yet ultimately chose to believe. The kindness that presented him with a handkerchief while making somewhat irritating sounds.

‘I wish for you to be a better person than I am.’

‘You can become a better person than me.’

A distorted voice muttering similar words from that day, as though knowing something.

What was engraved in his soul could not be forgotten.

Something like a damp yearning flipped his insides.

He wanted to run and grab her. Just as you suspected, that child back then was me. Ever since I was weakly protected by you, I worked hard to stand beside you. I admired you for a long time, and I longed for you, who faded like a dream on a midsummer night.

‘… Not yet.’

Reiner exhaled deeply, swallowing down the overwhelming emotions.

To crush a desire that had grown larger and larger, becoming impossible to deny was an act that had become second nature for Reiner.

Since the day he parted ways with Kashmir, it wasn’t that he had lived longing for her.

‘I have a younger sister. I lived my whole life wishing for her happiness. We live close to the capital…’

Your kindness revealed too much to the hurting, fragile commoner boy curious about you. Based on that information, if he had wanted to find her, there was nothing he couldn’t have done.

Yet he hadn’t searched. Every night he endured nostalgia, waiting for the dawn,

because he had promised himself not to reunite with you until he had become strong enough to fight by your side.

‘On the day we meet again, I will be stronger.’

He worked hard to stand beside you. Those sleepless nights of swinging his sword, fueled by anxiety after learning about your fame as a black disaster, were countless.

Enduring through those endless days, surviving through dawns that felt interminable,

‘What do you expect me to do if I crumble just by seeing your face?’

The craving that could neither be filled nor swallowed was horrifying.

With blood dripping from his hands, he washed his face with cold water despite the evidence of crimson streaks across his pale face, not caring at all.

‘I may not become stronger than you, but I can reach a similar level.’

He could feel the peak of sword mastery was within his reach. When that time came, he thought he would confess that he was that child back then.

‘Until then, I must endure.’

An unstable golden aura, not yet completed, wavered around him. Even the hue of this aura originated from you.

Everything about Reiner was already stained by Kashmir.

Clenching his teeth once more, Reiner took a slow, deep breath and lifted the fainted Ruwellin into his arms. The righteous him would normally have helped Ruwellin, but since Kashmir had asked, he wanted to handle things more thoroughly.

‘For a waste of space… you’ve left quite the impression.’

Reiner coldly gazed down at the man cloaked in black aura. He bound the man again with his aura. The radiant golden aura coiled around the man like a snake.

‘Since this is your request.’

There was no way he could refuse Kashmir’s words about asking for his help.

‘I wouldn’t dare to dream of all of you but hope that when we meet again, I might receive even a piece of your heart.’

That was all Reiner Ainhart wished for.

A week had passed since the day he rescued Ruwellin and confronted Reiner.

Though intricately entangled with the major characters of the original story, there was no change in his daily life.

‘For four days, I investigated Count Freya’s house.’

The family in which Aria would reside. Wondering if there were any shady dealings or dark aspects not mentioned in the novel, he had even visited an information guild and dug up everything about Count Freya.

Fortunately, it was the same as in the novel.

The Count Freya, who had amassed staggering wealth, was remarkably clean despite engaging in numerous businesses. Both the Count and Countess were said to be good people, so it seemed safe to leave Aria in their care.

‘Once Aria settles into the Count’s family, I will be left alone.’

Joy, sorrow, worry, loneliness, and despair intertwined, leaving behind an emotional knot that blurred the colors.

‘Selfish brat. I should be happy.’

He felt a twinge of self-loathing for not being able to simply rejoice.

Aria would be happy there. She would meet so many good people under good parents, fading to an unreachable height that he could only aspire to.

In that perfect tale, there was no place for him.

‘I vowed that I would do anything for Aria’s happiness. I promised I wouldn’t be greedy and would remain in a shadow.’

He steeled his shaken heart once more.

He had no intention of getting in Aria’s way as she became a young lady of the Count; a mercenary like Mir would only be a hindrance to her.

‘As long as I can watch from afar, as long as I can help Aria whenever she’s in danger.’

That would be enough. He didn’t dare to wish for more.

‘Not much time left.’

Fortunately, the novel detailed the day when Aria would go to the Count’s family.

‘A day after the start of the Snowflower Festival, on a snowy day.’

The Snowflower Festival was a grand celebration that represented winter in the Empire. In the Imperial Palace, a ball would be held to celebrate the year’s end, while bustling street vendors decorated the streets for commoners.

‘While walking to see the Snowflower Festival, Count Freya, returning home, will coincidentally stumble upon the collapsed Aria in a secluded alley.’

This was the starting point of the original story. A critical event that would become a turning point in Aria’s life was now less than a week away.

‘It has to unfold as per the original, but Aria must not be in danger.’

The original was already distorted because of him. Unlike the original, Aria now had a protector nation. How it would turn out was impossible to predict.

‘So I’ll have to manipulate things to fit the original.’

He was already aware of Count Freya’s every move from his investigation.

On the day of reckoning, he would bump into Count Freya as he was heading out, pretending it was an accident to attach a tracker to him. The tiny magical tracker was quite expensive, but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Aria.

‘Somehow, I must ensure Count Freya meets Aria.’

Aria had been taking the elixir from the Fairy Forest regularly; her condition was likely very different from the original. He couldn’t be certain if she would even collapse that day.

‘… I’ll have to knock her out somehow.’

He felt uneasy at the thought of attacking Aria, but he steeled his resolve for the sake of the original.

‘If I can drop unconscious Aria onto Count Freya’s path…’

The plan was flawless.

After settling his thoughts, he pulled the hood of his black cloak down firmly and leaped from the building.

‘The Mercenary Guild’

He moved towards the wooden building before him.

‘Now that I think about it, there were times we entered here together as a trio.’

I hadn’t always worked alone from the start.

Monster hunting was an incredibly tough task. There had been times when he worked with others, particularly the two of them.

‘But those are all old tales now.’

He bit his lip. It wasn’t a pleasant memory. Just recalling it made him feel gloomy and he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

The holiday was over. It was time to work as Mir.