7 – 7. Musing

The writing continued late into the night.

It was already time for dinner.

“Huu.”

A faint headache, a testament to how hard I’d been focused, but the satisfaction was greater.

I throw open the window, letting the cold air wash over me.

Even in April, the sharp, biting wind carries a hint of winter, stinging my cheek.

“Aiyo.”

Paper nearly escapes on the gust, but I snatch it just in time.

In the midst of it, a rose-patterned vial by my desk catches my eye.

The Rose Elixir, gifted to me by Lohengrin, the eldest son, before he left.

They say it’s a Helmuntian draught that enhances physical abilities.

But typically, things like this take a toll on the body, only safe for those blessed with the right genes – otherwise, you’re asking for trouble.

‘It’s diluted though.’

I hesitate, pondering whether to drink it.

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound of someone rapping on the door from outside.

I bundle and organize the pages I was writing on, before opening the door.

Standing there was Silverna Caldias, her white hair like a pure snowdrift, striking.

“Allow me to introduce myself again, I am Silverna.”

“Isaac Helmunt.”

‘She has short hair.’

In my previous life, her hair had been long enough to reach her waist. Now, it barely reached her shoulders.

“Your welcome was… truly impressive. One could feel the spirit of a Caldias.”

“It was my desire to witness the Helmuntian light sword that drove me. Please forgive my discourtesy.”

“Then it is unfortunate. Being the adopted son-in-law, I cannot wield a greatsword, nor show you the light sword.”

“Then I am doubly in the wrong.”

Their gazes meet.

Forced smiles flicker on their lips.

If you were to boil down that conversation, it would go more like this.

‘That was shitty of you at the wall.’

‘You just gonna take that?’

‘I’m the one who has to.’

“A real cheapskate, alright.”

Silberna, her face composed in a serene smile, was about to speak, but the moment she opened her mouth—

“Cut the charade, Silberna Caldias.”

Isaac seized the initiative. Silberna’s smile slowly began to fade, turning into a blank stare.

Then, the corners of her lips curled into a sharp, eager grin, and a retort bursting with competitive spirit came back.

“Seems like we can actually talk, huh? I thought my cheeks would cramp from forcing that smile.”

“You were the one who started it, with that barrier. All that faking.”

“Anna advised me. Said it would rile you up more if I used polite speech right now.”

‘Anna?’

Isaac’s gaze drifted past Silberna’s shoulder.

There stood a slightly shorter woman in the doorway.

Anna bowed her head in greeting.

‘So, that’s Anna.’

The best friend Silberna longed for so dearly.

A lady-in-waiting who learned the spear and enlisted in the army alongside Silberna.

He’d heard she had sadly died when the Malidian Barrier fell in his previous life.

“Heard you charmed Rianna… you are half-decent looking. But it’s not just that, is it?”

Silberna’s smile took on a knowing edge.

“You talk so well, you say? With the tongue that charmed the Blood Rose, would you like to handle tomorrow’s ‘pep talk’?”

“A pep talk?”

“Most of the nobles sent here have arrived. We’ll be starting some simple training and on-site deployments from tomorrow, so it’s to give everyone a ‘let’s work together’ kind of encouragement.”

“Me? Is that alright?”

“You’re a Helmund, aren’t you? Who would dare rebel against a Helmund, even if they’re a cheapskate?”

“Well, alright.”

Isaac readily agreed.

He had a good idea brewing.

Whether it was because she was irritated at his seemingly easygoing attitude, Silberna felt the need to add a little something.

“Father will be there, too. So, you best prepare yourself.”

“Yeah, I got it. Is that all you wanted to say?”

“Huh? Uh… well, yeah.”

“Really? Then, could you let me rest a bit? I’m not quite over the travel fatigue yet.”

Truth was, it wasn’t fatigue so much as a burning to get back and finish my writing.

There was plenty of time to teach Silvarna anyway.

With nearly two months until the Sword Ordeal, delaying a little wouldn’t hurt.

Silvarna, flinching at my dismissal, stepped back.

“Hey, listen.”

Then, abruptly, she twitched her shoulder and whispered conspiratorially.

“Does Rianna Helmund, like, do that cutesy stuff in front of you?”

“……”

At my look of what-kind-of-question-is-that, Silvarna, embarrassed, hastily added.

“No! It’s just that the Rianna Helmund I know seems like she’d never do anything like dating!”

“She doesn’t do cutesy stuff either.”

“Then what about terms of endearment? My lord? Honey? Sweetheart?”

“Isaac.”

“……”

Our eyes met.

Silvarna nodded, seeming to understand, and then went outside.

“See, Anna. There’s no way that woman could be besotted by a man?!”

“Romance returns to reality.”

Hearing the two of them talking in the hallway, I smiled faintly and picked up my pen again.

* * *

The next morning.

A throng of people gathered in the drill yard.

Except for those guarding the castle walls, all the soldiers of the Malidian Bastion were standing in neat rows and columns.

Their densely packed formation resembled a thick shield.

The grandeur was indescribable, and it was a source of pride that they were the ones who protected the kingdom.

“Master Isaac is giving an encouraging speech. I, I would be too nervous to even step forward.”

Whether it was from the cold or not, Jonathan looked around in a flurry.

I sighed and thumped him on the back.

“Just be still. Stop fidgeting.”

“Yessir! Sorry!”

The spot they were in was the line for dispatched nobles.

Unlike the neatly arrayed Malidian Wall soldiers beside them, these lot seemed a ragtag bunch.

Most of them lacked combat experience, but their potential was recognized—they were promising.

“Woah, uh, I am Uldiran Caldius.”

At Jonathan’s words, gazes shifted.

There strode a man bigger than even Arundel, the head of Helmunt.

His white hair pulled back and tied, a neatly trimmed beard striking.

Uldiran Caldius, the giant of the North.

Trailing behind, his only daughter, Sylverna.

The ceremony began when Uldiran settled into the chair behind the platform.

These events, the flow, were all more or less the same.

Salute to the flag,

National anthem, drills, and so on.

“Next up, we have a word of encouragement from the representative of the nobles, Isaac Helmunt of the Helmunt family.”

It was the moment for the encouraging speech.

The eyes on Isaac, though natural, were not welcoming.

Cold, silent stares from the disciplined Malidian soldiers fixed on him.

As those who were in Caldius’s camp, seeing Helmunt in a good light would be impossible.

And it wasn’t just the Malidian soldiers.

The dispatched nobles were openly grumbling.

“Haa, what’s with that guy?”

“Are you kidding? Are we supposed to be boosting Helmunt’s ego?”

“He has black hair?”

“Caldius is done for.”

“Trying to intimidate us by getting in first, huh.”

They knew Helmunt was a great family, sure. But they too were nobles from families that held their own.

And yet, they were expressing their dissatisfaction toward Caldius and Isaac for unilaterally selecting a commoner son-in-law to represent them.

Pushed onto the platform by their discontented gazes and voices, Isaac stood.

‘Heavy.’

A throng of soldiers and nobles filled his vision.

Yet, more weighty than their gazes was the stare of Uldiran Caldias, as if pressing down on his shoulders from directly behind.

‘Equal to the head of the Arandel.’

Though the common saying favored the Arandel, and it likely held true.

They were so evenly matched that their battle hung on the day’s condition.

A violet gemstone sat atop the dais.

Isaac, his lips near the gemstone, which amplified his voice, uttered his first words, calmly.

“Warrior, be great.”

Even a greeting, skipped.

A brief phrase, yet.

Enough to seize the attention of all present.

“Follow your duty.”

Because those words were.

“Warrior, simply be great.”

The motto of the first head of the Caldias family.

The saying of Count Wolfdrun Caldias, the border lord who directly oversaw the construction of the Malidean Wall.

The representative of Helmund now.

Had spoken the very words, a family motto of the Caldias, their sworn rivals.

“Coming here, I wondered the truth in the phrase, ‘be great.’ Truthfully, isn’t the word ‘great’ rather abstract, as you all know?”

A killing intent, pressed down on his very being.

Pressure poured from every side.

Especially the pressure from Uldiran behind him, it felt as if a lance tip would pierce his heart with the slightest lapse in attention.

Helmund.

Dared they, to ignore their creed?

As he calmly endured their glares, like cold blades piercing his skin, Isaac continued.

“What is a great one? I pondered this. Is it guarding the kingdom from the demonic beasts with a wall?”

“Is it cleaving down an enemy in one strike with a great sword? Upholding honor and belief to eradicate injustice? Persuading an enemy to surrender with words?”

“Ah, of course they are great. They are great indeed.”

The dispatched nobles glared, their eyes bulging.

A frustrated demand that he read the room.

Eyes that begged for silence. Just shut it already.

The parade ground’s aura was that wretched.

So much so it was ruled by heat, not the northern chill.

“But, this is what I thought.”

“True greatness… it’s about molding even the common into its frame.”

A tightly clenched fist.

Isaac’s voice held genuine feeling.

“Those born noble, blessed by the goddess from their very bloodline. Those are the ones who elevate themselves.”

“Rather than those who are great simply because they were born in a great place, it’s making the ordinary… great! That is what is worthy of awe.”

The atmosphere takes on a strange shift.

Those great because of their great birth.

The ones who fit that description most were the Hellmuths.

Their innate brute strength and physical capabilities could only be described as a blessing from the goddess.

“And today, right here, I have witnessed such greatness. I hope you will all bear witness with me.”

Snatching a spear from its stand below the platform, he raises it high and shouts,

“This is it! This very thing you all hold in your hands!”

The soldiers’ gazes shift to the spears clutched in their hands.

Their dull expressions seem to forget the rage, which fades away.

Isaac gives a slight smile and cries out,

“If anyone! Should say they want to learn the martial ways! I shall proclaim!”

“Look to the North! Above those high walls! See the spear of Kaldias soar, greatest of the continent!”

The common view of the Kaldias spear is simple.

Fundamental, universal, easy to learn.

In the sparsely populated North, it was made so any soldier could master it.

And so, it’s looked down upon.

Because anyone can learn it.

So much so the marchioness’s only daughter’s handmaid learnt it and volunteered into the army.

‘Although I have never truly wielded a sword, earning me the title Silent Blade.’

But as the Silent Blade who compiled so many books, I declare.

If you demand the precision of martial arts.

Nothing compares to Caldias.

“You, who wield the spears of Caldias! As Wolfdrun wished, you, merely great warriors!”

“I know, a single massive sword cannot cleave through hundreds, thousands of spears!”

“And I know this too! You great ones! Even with your necks severed, your hearts pierced, you will not retreat!”

Because it was so.

I know it too well.

A woman who carried all their deaths upon her shoulders, who abandoned her own name and lived only as Caldias, had told me.

“You, great guardians who defend the very front lines of Maliduan.”

Her voice, calm and lowered.

“I thank you for your utmost devotion.”

A soft smile forms at Isaac’s lips.

“And to share in this meaningful moment, to those great fallen heroes who have already completed their duty and slumber in this land -“

Slowly.

Closing his eyes.

“A moment of silence.”

As Isaac lowers his head.

In an instant, the guardians of Maliduan lower theirs.

‘It is a relief.’

A few years from now.

You, who, defying the kingdom’s staff who were certain you’d crumble in five days, held out for a full month without any support.

To you, who are before me.

‘That I have this opportunity to give you thanks… It is truly a relief.’

You have defended well.

You have endured well.

Your struggle was truly great.

It is much delayed.

But once again, gratitude.

Silence.