NOVEL NEXT Chapter 48
“I….”
…couldn’t answer.
Felt like my throat was completely blocked.
What could I even say?
Just another regular guy with light brown hair.
I couldn’t bring myself to look directly into those golden eyes, so I lowered my gaze.
In his hands, I saw a few small flowers with white petals.
Just common weeds.
Nothing special, nothing remarkable.
But in that brief moment, relief and guilt crashed over me all at once.
‘This kid….’
Almost didn’t recognize him.
It’s been too long, hasn’t it? You’ve grown so much…
But still, I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
‘I….’
Didn’t I pick up this sword to stop tragedies like these?
First and foremost, I wanted no child to lose their parents like I did.
I wished for a world where the weak weren’t oppressed by the strong.
A world where injustice would vanish.
Where brave souls would be rewarded for their effort and passion.
A fair and just world—that was what I dreamed of.
…But reality?
The powerful oppress and exploit the weak.
Evil deceives and manipulates the good for unfair gains.
Even the weak prey on those weaker than themselves.
Good intentions are repaid with malice, and those who live righteously are scorned as foolish and incompetent.
[Youthful idealism might want to change the world, but it’s all futile labor.]
Suddenly, my old master’s words came back to me.
What did I reply back then?
But…
[If nobody does anything, shouldn’t someone at least try?]
That’s right.
It was only that resolve.
Back then, was the world any kinder?
Were there fewer villains?
[I just wanted to become someone great.]
Someone great…
When I first met him, he proudly declared himself a knight.
But now, even calling himself a “great knight” feels impossible.
Is he discouraged?
Or has he fallen into despair?
Or maybe… resignation?
…Or frustration?
So…
I hated seeing him like this.
I wanted him to find strength again.
I wanted to comfort him: “It’s okay, you’ve done enough.”
But back then, I lacked the eloquence or tact to say such things.
So…
“That’s enough.”
That’s what I said.
Though hidden under the helmet, I could sense his confusion.
[“Enough? Why?”]
Unfortunately…
I don’t remember what I replied after that.
…Still.
What I need to do now is crystal clear.
As a boy, I chased after him tirelessly.
It was the only way to escape my pain.
Running toward my goal without thinking—those moments alone let me escape the turmoil of my heart.
So, I distanced myself from her too.
How could someone like me, full of suffering, bring happiness to anyone? Or dare to take responsibility for another?
You told me to look ahead, Father, Mother.
But…
…is that even possible?
“Is this stone tomb… your parents’ grave?”
Suppressing the trembling in my voice as best I could.
I asked calmly, quietly.
“Yes.”
“How did they pass away?”
“Father died defending the village. Mother… she tried to protect me…”
Weapons in his hands probably weren’t worth much; he likely couldn’t swing farming tools properly either.
Young as he was, he climbed mountains and pretended to be a hunter, but now hunting probably means setting traps at best.
And she…
“I heard it was an army. They took everything—food, farming tools, everything.”
“…”
Judging by the traces, it wasn’t just simple looting.
They utterly devastated the entire village.
Most survivors were either elderly or children.
Any young people who survived were likely taken as slaves or prisoners.
With little hope of ransom, their fate was painfully obvious.
Leaving behind the elderly and kids was probably meant to burden the enemy territory.
Much like how injured soldiers slow down an advancing army.
For years, I wandered through countless battlefields.
I participated in proxy wars, fought dozens of duels, but somehow managed to survive.
All my past efforts weren’t meaningless.
But as my master said, they only led to promotions.
Climbing higher made it seem like I could change the world…
But to do so, I had to sacrifice the present.
Kick allies out of the way, send subordinates to certain death.
Accomplish feats and build a reputation.
…Only then does the path forward appear.
I hate that, so I often lead from the front.
Surviving purely because of my skill.
“What do you plan to do now?”
“We have to survive.”
So obvious.
Yet, that obvious statement feels unbearably heavy.
“If the crops are ruined, we can’t just stop farming, right?”
“That’s… true.”
Of course. They know this basic truth so well.
Why do I feel so disheartened hearing it?
Does it matter?
The dead won’t return.
Neither will what we failed to protect.
All that remains is loss.
This emptiness… there’s no way to fill it.
“Father used to say… giving up is a form of arrogance and pride. But since we can still eat, we keep going.”
“…Huh?”
“At times, things don’t go well—it’s normal. Success and failure always come together. So we pray for success, but if it doesn’t happen, that’s life.”
“…”
Is that how my master viewed me?
I feel both regret and gratitude.
Still, the boy survived.
Thinking he lost everything…
But something remained.
“You’re Ruel, right?”
“Eh? Do you know me?”
“How could I not? I helped build this log cabin where your family lived. We ran around these hills and woods together when you were little.”
“So… are you the knight everyone talks about?”
Knight.
Forgot about that.
Knights, as my master said, don’t exist in this world.
So “knight” was just a term he made up.
“Father and Mother said… isn’t your name Carriel? They said you’d become a great knight. So I asked… what’s a knight? And he said…”
“A person who overcomes the impossible.”
I recited it almost hypnotically.
Then…
“A person willing to die for noble ideals.”
The boy continued seamlessly.
One after another…
“A person who endures unbearable pain.”
“A person who reflects on and corrects their mistakes.”
“A person who loves justice and goodness above all else.”
“A person who firmly stands against evil enemies.”
“A person with the courage to chase dreams, love, hope, and faith, running to the ends of the earth.”
Truly…
A dream-like speech.
Though hidden under the helmet, I could still hear the confident tone of my master’s voice clearly ringing in my ears.
Too vividly…
It lingers near my ears, deep in my mind.
“So, Ruel. Do you know what we should do now?”
“Rebuild the village. Before that, people need time to grieve. But more importantly, we need to figure out what we’ll eat tomorrow and where we’ll sleep. That’s crucial.”
The boy explained logically.
The rain kept drizzling.
But here, without a roof, even this becomes a trial and tribulation.
“That’s right. You’re absolutely correct.”
Carriel nodded.
“Then, let’s get to work.”
Only then could the boy place the bouquet on the two graves.
Watching his tiny back bow in silent prayer…
The man reaffirmed his vow again and again.
It was the only promise he could make standing before those two graves.
====
Time passed quickly.
Rebuilding the village, somehow managing the lack of hands.
Carriel donated one of his two swords to be repurposed as farming tools.
Using skills from his youth, he chopped and carried wood, clumsily building houses.
Fortunately, some of the elders were quite skilled at this.
Instead of simple log cabins, they managed to create sturdy plank houses by carefully cutting and processing the wood—a stroke of luck indeed.
Chasing off a group of bandits who came snooping around for anything valuable after just a few days.
Some vagrants eventually joined cautiously, while others hid their identities to join the village.
Relying on the forest’s bounty, we stripped bark to eat, enduring incredibly tough times.
Few mouths to feed meant fewer hands to work, but everyone hung on stubbornly.
By the time we thought we could finally catch our breath, a whole year had passed.
Tax collectors arrived, ready to demand payment despite the state of the village.
Carriel firmly stood his ground and refused.
Perhaps his reputation wasn’t entirely useless; they left without much argument.
But next time, they’d surely come prepared.
So Carriel visited his former lord.
Since he ruled this region…
But the lord wouldn’t meet him.
Instead, he unilaterally announced a five-year tax exemption due to the village’s condition.
To Carriel, it felt like peanuts.
Though expecting minimal support, when he returned to the village and shared the news, everyone celebrated.
…Again, I felt embarrassed, but Carriel didn’t reveal his inner thoughts.
As the village stabilized, opportunists began appearing more frequently.
Some attempted outright robbery.
Others infiltrated disguised as vagrants, and a few even tried joining under false pretenses.
Carriel resolved every issue without causing significant harm.
Once, my master taught me to combine courage with wisdom…
And he followed that lesson faithfully.
Time flowed again.
That year’s harvest was relatively bountiful.
Despite limited manpower, the modest yield satisfied us fully.
Just looking at the golden fields made our stomachs feel full repeatedly.
The boy grew into a young man.
The village became large enough to form a rudimentary self-defense team.
Even if it barely reached ten members, it was something.
Around then, a wandering merchant finally stopped by.
Not intending to stay long, he merely passed through, but we traded some stored leather for farming tools and equipment.
He promised to return better stocked next time.
More time passed.
Had we had a bit more leisure, I should’ve gone searching for the children’s parents in other territories.
As soon as we gained a little breathing room, regrets crept in.
But miraculously, they escaped and returned to the village on their own.
The entire village erupted into tears of joy.
The boy—Ruel—genuinely rejoiced watching the scene, but that night, he silently cried at the makeshift stone tomb under the dark, moonless sky.
Years passed.
About six years since that fateful oath at the graves…
The man who once dreamed of being a knight had become an ordinary villager.
Then…
A wandering priestess proposed building a small church.
While inspecting potential sites, she suddenly fell ill and…
Died.
…And thus began the outbreak.
The epidemic swept through the village without warning.
Even her death spread mysteriously to nearby villages.
Their land became known as cursed by demons.
Despite hearing the news from somewhere, no one offered help.
Even the most compassionate servants of God, His heavens…
Refused to lend a hand.