Sword Pilgrim

Chris approached Callius, who was standing still, deep in thought.

“Uncle?”

“…”

“Are you a pilgrim? But you don’t have a spear. Don’t all pilgrims carry one? Or do you use a mace?”

“…”

“Is the spear strong, or the mace?”

“…”

“Is the spear stronger after all?”

He tried to ignore her until she went away, but that wasn’t looking feasible.

So Callius gave a vague response.

“The spear is just easy to use.”

“Eh? Isn’t the mace easier to use?”

Didn’t people just swing their maces wildly?

Callius’ eyebrows twitched as Chris pretended to swing a mace with both hands.

“Just because something’s easy to use doesn’t mean it’s strong. Be it spear or mace, any weapon can be either difficult or easy to use depending on how it’s used. Above a certain level, it depends upon the strength of wielder, not the strength of the weapon itself.”

“The guys at the brothel say that spears are the best. And swords are trash.”

“…”

That was a pretty harsh rebuke.

It was hard for Callius to overlook it.

‘O God.’

Was this also the ordeal of pilgrimage?

As a sword pilgrim, there were some things he couldn’t ignore.

But the taboo here was committed by this little kid. Callius’ brows furrowed.

“The sword is not weak.”

“A weapon can either swing or stab. But the sword can’t stab as well as the spear, or swing as hard as the mace. That’s why it’s the worst.”

“…”

It even sounded quite logical.

However, there was room for objection.

It was true that the sword’s stab was weaker compared to the spear. It came to the difference in their lengths, so it couldn’t be helped.

It was also true that the sword’s swing was weaker compared to the mace. Since there was a difference in their weights, the mace inherently struck harder when swung.

But –

That didn’t make swords weak.

They were shorter than spears and lighter than maces.

They were light and could cut quickly.

After a certain level, there was nothing they couldn’t cut.

“If the sword had been strong, it wouldn’t have been defeated by the empire in the first place!”

Callius wanted to retort, but Chris’ words left him momentarily speechless.

As Callius looked down at the kid, his hands were starting to itch.

“Huh? Wait!”

But Chris suddenly ran away.

‘She’s got good senses.’

She’d managed to flee at just the right time to avoid getting a beating.

“Hm?”

But something was unusual.

As the little kid talked about something or other with a prostitute of the brothel, her expression flickered.

“Uncle…!”

Soon, the little kid ran back to Callius, her face a pasty white.

Step, step.

“Hey, Brother, would you like to play with me for a bit?”

“How about me?”

Ignoring the jibes thrown in from here and there, Callius walked.

Towards the highest and deepest part of the building.

He continued with steady steps.

The women he met along the way tried to attract him with seductive invitations, but he didn’t pay attention.

He was used to beauties, like Esther, or Helena.

He’d even gotten familiar with Queen Clara’s beauty, so something of this level was meaningless to him.

Besides, Callius, had been accompanied by an elf lately.

After looking at Serena’s face every day, these women were close to invisible.

“Hey, you can’t come here. Go back.”

Men with grim faces called out to stop him. But Callius didn’t stop.

Crack.

Snap!

“Ahhhhh!!”

He twisted and broke an outstretched hand.

The snapping of bones rang loud.

These neighborhood gangsters couldn’t handle a physique of Callius’ level.

“Who are you, you bastard!”

Another guy rushed at him.

Callius grabbed the guy’s finger and broke it.

A sound like a pig squealing echoed through the brothel.

“Ohh!”

The women shouted in amazement, and the gangsters ran out roaring.

But they were simply not his opponent.

They could only scream for help as their limbs were chopped off.

‘Please save Veronica!’

Chris’ voice was still ringing in Callius’ ears.

He’d never thought the cheeky little kid’s voice could change so much.

‘I lied! Veronica was waiting for Phillip! Now she knows Phillip is dead; I don’t know what she’s trying to do!!’

It was a common story.

After becoming a pilgrim, Callius had travelled to many places and seen many stories.

Verse of Grace had been the only way he could become stronger before the main quest started, so he was even more intimately familiar with such little incidents.

He’d witnessed many deaths, and many grievances.

A tale of love between a commoner and a prostitute?

There was nothing particularly special about it.

Yeah.

It was something that happened somewhere every day.

A common occurrence in this world.

It was no big deal.

Crack!

Callius knocked down the last opponent with a hard slap on the face, and turned the doorknob.

Creeeeak.

It was a dark room.

In the room embroidered with red candles, Veronica lay collapsed, weeping, and a man was brushing his oily hair.

“… Who are you?”

Veronica’s hair was messy and her cheeks were swollen.

She looked like she’d been badly beaten. Bruises were beginning to form on her back and arms.

Callius slammed his fist straight into the man’s face.

Crack!!

“Ugh!!”

Crash-thud!!

Callius looked down at the guy he’d thrown through the desk, and asked Veronica –

“Is Phillip’s death related to him?”

She didn’t answer with words. She just nodded her head with an expression of unspent rage.

Tears and blood dripped down the floor.

That was enough.

“Phillip probably wanted you to be happy. That’s why I…”

He’d seen the brothel, and Veronica, in his vision.

In Phillip’s memory, Veronica was smiling brightly.

Although she didn’t normally smile much, in front of Phillip, her smile was warmer than the sun and brighter than the flowers in the field in full bloom.

Phillip liked that smile.

The smile she showed only to him.

And so he’d wished –

To see as much of that smile as he could before he died.

‘Since he died, she’ll never be able to smile like that again.’

The bright smile at the sight of the one she loved.

“You, are you joking? This is about a courtesan’s happiness? I don’t know what you’re here for, but if that bitch has paid you, I can pay you double.”

Callius looked down at the man with a shaking voice, with apathetic eyes.

He was trying hard not to show it, but he was frightened. A frightened beast was nothing to fear. So Callius took a step forward.

Creak.

The floorboards groaned under Rupard’s feet as he stepped backwards.

“I’ll pay you three, three times! If you kill me, Viscount Geralt won’t let it go! He’ll kill you! Kill that bitch! Kill everyone!!”

Callius glanced back.

“What do you want to do?”

“…”

Veronica’s eyelashes trembled.

The mention of the imperial aristocrat seemed to be making her hesitate.

“Vengeance is sweet. There is nothing sweeter and more soothing than revenge. If you want me to kill him, I’ll kill him. But you have to be the one to decide.”

“… No. I’ll be the one to do it.”

Veronica stood up with a limp and once again clutched her sword.

A medium-length carcass sword created from Phillip’s corpse.

Veronica’s eyes, as she held it with both hands, were focused solely on Rupard.

“Damn it! Are you crazy? Because of that farmer? If you kill me, you’ll be hunted down for the rest of your life!”

“I don’t care. You bastard!! Die!!”

Rupard struggled.

But Veronica kept attacking him.

Despite being hit by Rupard’s kicks and punches, she struggled close and drove her sword through him.

But with her weak womanly strength, she couldn’t punch the blade through his back.

So she pulled out the sword again and repeated.

Snikt, snikt! Snikt!

Hot blood spattered.

The bed at the side of the office was soaked in blood.

Clatter.

Disturbed by the struggle, candles fell from their holders and set the bedspreads on fire.

Veronica trembled as she savoured the sight of the blazing fire.

Rupard’s struggles finally stopped.

Veronica smiled and bowed her head.

“Thank you.”

“…”

“May I ask you for one last thing? I will give you all my fortune in exchange.”

“…”

“Please, see to Chris. He’s a fool, but he’s my son.”

Snikt.

Flinch.

Callius tried to run to Veronica, but it was too late. She’d already stabbed herself in the heart.

Rustle. Crumble.

“Ah…”

Veronica finally knew the meaning of the sword that began to disappear after stabbing into her heart.

The figure of the soul freed from the carcass sword as it scattered into silver dust was visible to her eyes.

“Phillip…”

Rustle.

Callius’ pupils dilated, looking at the peaceful expression on Veronica’s face as she departed from this impure world.

Crackle, crackle.

But the grey eyes taking in the blazing flames soon returned to their calm.

‘It’s common.’

It was a common tale in this wretched world.

In this doomed and dying world –

There was no lack of tragedies.

So –

Callius managed to return to his usual equanimity.

Because otherwise he’d have no choice but to drown.

“Huff.”

Callius stared at the corner of the office that’d been set aflame.

The flames were getting bigger and stronger. Enough to cover up the devastation that’d happened here.

It was a bright enough epilogue to this tragic tale.

The fire spread, and spread.

Roooooaaarrr.

The brothel building was on fire.

The dark night sky had been lit up by the blazing flames till there was no difference from the daytime.

A crying child was among those who were staring at the sight in despair. A child who looked more like a girl than an actual girl. The boy with long brown hair, saw the man coming out of the burning building and ran to him.

A ray of hope lit Chris’ eyes.

“Where’s Veronica?”

However, it was a vain hope.

Callius didn’t answer.

‘I couldn’t tell he was a boy.’

He avoided the crying boy’s eyes.

He couldn’t permit himself to provide others comfort.

“Which bastard did this?! I was really looking forward to this visit…”

In front of the burning brothel –

Some nobleman, accompanied by knights and soldiers, had arrived.

Possibly the aristocrat that Rupard had mentioned.

Soon, a knight came running and whispered something to the man.

“Hmph. So that’s him?”

The noble’s lips curved.

“He must be the pilgrim the princess is looking for. What a windfall! I was going to visit the princess with my troops already.”

This was a chance to gain great favour.

“Catch him. His divine power’s so thin, it should be a piece of cake!”

The soldiers’ bows aimed at the target.

At Callius.

“U-uncle…”

Callius calmly observed the mass of troops waiting for him.

He started to bring out Dirge, but the thought of the burning brothel behind him made him put it back.

“Chris.”

“…”

“You asked me. How the sword holds up compared to the spear and the mace.”

“…”

“Let me show you.”

Swish.

A sword appeared from within his robe.

A scabbard and hilt that looked like they’d been stained with blood.

Predator Sword – Loas.

“Make sure to capture him alive!”

Step.

Thoom!

Callius stomped the ground, making dust rise in ripples around him.

At that moment –

His very form seemed to become as sharp as a blade.

A cutting air surged around him.

The scene became blurry for an instant, and a single sword escaped from its scabbard, one swing severing the world.

Silver Flower Wave Sword –

“Hundred Flowers Cutting Disaster[1].”

Schwinnggggggg!!

“What…!”

The world was split in half.

A sword technique to gather power and emanate it in a single instantaneous burst. A quickdraw[2] from the sheath that annihilated the enemy.

As the name suggested, like cutting a hundred flowers in one stroke –

The bodies of the imperial troops were torn apart, gushing rivers of blood.

A sword art to cut a hundred enemies in one blow.

Silver Flower Wave Sword: Fourth Martial Skill –

– Hundred Flowers Cutting Disaster.

Huff.

Callius, sliding his sword back to its scabbard, exhaled a long breath.

The white steam caressed his pilgrim’s robe and then dissipated into the wind.

The stillness he’d created –

Was broken.

By himself.

“Other Shore Flower.”

Whizzzzzzttttt!

Bloodstained petals covered the world.

Editor’s Notes:

[1] 백절화 (hundred/white cut flower/disaster). Is this too literal? Still considering changing to something more lyrical like Hundred Flower Harvest.

[2] 발도술 (baldosul), the Korean name of the old martial art that is called battōjutsu in Japanese. The modern form is called iaijutsu.