Chapter 38

***

***

Soon, the three of them practiced together every day.

Even though Morte was on the outskirts of the Empire, Carlz always had rumors or gossip to share. The stories he had were enough to stimulate the interest of the young knights.

The three of them got a stomach ache while cooking and eating unknown meat in the square. Leonard, delirious, ran around like a swamp monster, eventually returning, embarrassed and dirty.

For the first time, the people of Morte genuinely respected the Little Duke, who was getting into trouble with his peers.

Despite all the mischief he caused, he was only scolded once. It was when they hiked up the mountain, in the middle of winter, to get Griffin feathers.

He located and hunted the Griffin with ease, but…

‘How could we have known that Griffin meat was poisonous?’

The three of them roasted Griffin over a bonfire and rolled over with stomach aches, eventually having to be carried on the backs of a search party that found them.

Mortheon, who led the search party, carried Victor himself and nagged him their entire hike down.

“How could you do such reckless things in the middle of winter?”

“I’m sorry, brother.”

Mortheon sighed.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad.”

His voice was warm.

“Even if you aren’t, your friends could be in danger. You must protect your people, Victor. Your colleagues, friends, and allies. That is the duty of a strong man like you.”

Victor remained silent for a while and nodded. Mortheon adjusted Victor’s position on his back and sighed deeply.

“When did you grow up? You are so heavy that I can’t even lift you anymore.”

“I’ll carry you on my back next time.”

Mortheon laughed out loud.

“Stop making trouble, you rascal.”

Victor grinned.

***

Those were the days.

With the affection of his brother, knights, and friends, Victor Morte laughed louder and louder.

A few more years passed, and he grew into a cheerful young man.

Everyone loved the Little Duke, who was tall, strong, and powerful. The apprentice knights admired Victor as if he were a God.

Spotting some trainees secretly observing Victor’s practice, Carlz was immersed in nostalgia.

“I used to be like that too…”

“Used to? You’re still rude to him.”

“What do you mean by rude? It’s called being friendly.”

Carlz leisurely picked up the dried fruits attendants had brought them as a snack.

Leonard, who was swinging his sword, clicked his tongue at Carlz as if he was pathetic.

“Did you know that the official entrance exam is soon?”

“Leonard, do you think we’re going to fail?”

Morte’s senior test was different every year, related to important problems within the territory. This year’s task was to hunt Griffin. That was because the Griffin herd had reproduced tremendously, making it difficult to travel.

Carlz shrugged his shoulders.

“As long as I don’t grill it and eat it, I’ll be fine.”

“Did you forget that it was Victor who killed the Griffin back then?”

“That was years ago! And still, the Little Duke is coming with us.”

Carlz skillfully raised his eyebrow.

“If you do, you’ll take care of everything, right?”

Victor was silent for a moment before answering.

“I’m not going.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, brother Theon… he doesn’t think I have to take the exam.”

Leonard and Carlz tilted their heads in unison.

Mortheon was reluctant to treat anyone in a special way, and Victor was as careful as possible to enter the Order through the same process as other knights. It was strange that he gave his little brother an exemption from the senior test.

But Victor’s skill was beyond question, so they shrugged.

“If you go with us, we won’t be able to take the test.”

“We wouldn’t even have to draw our swords.”

Then they started talking loudly again.

Victor sighed.

He had a reason for not taking the entrance exam, but he couldn’t tell his friends.

He already passed the exam in a different way. By defeating Mortheon.

***

On the day the entrance exam was posted, his older brother came to him.

“There is a way to become a senior knight without a test. Do you want to try it?”

Victor nodded his head without thinking about it too deeply. After many years, he fought with Mortheon with a real sword.

And he realized after clashing swords a few times that his brother was no longer stronger than him.

“As expected.”

Mortheon, who sensed that Victor was deliberately controlling his strength, sheathed his sword.

“Awesome, Victor!”

Victor looked at his brother. He was smiling, but there was an undeniable bitterness in his eyes.

Mortheon was the next Grand Duke, Victor’s older brother, but above all else, he was a knight.

No knight was happy to lose.

Victor, sheathing his sword, asked carefully.

“Are you mad?”

“I can’t be.”

Mortheon shook his head. The bitterness in his eyes suddenly disappeared.

He spoke with conviction.

“I’m proud of you. I always will be.”

“…”

“Now that you have defeated the deputy general, you are now a senior knight of the Knights of Morte. Congratulations, little brother.”

His older brother grabbed his shoulder. Victor, who looked at Mortheon, felt a slurry of indescribable emotions. As he became taller, his brother looked smaller than he used to.

Still, the hand on his shoulder was large and warm. They were the hands that raised him.

Victor nodded his head, trying to suppress his pounding heart.

“Thanks.”

Victor hid Mortheon’s defeat, and the apprentice knights went on their Griffin hunt without him. Leonard and Carlz returned with the best scores.

The three were formally ordained senior knights.

Feeling Mortheon’s blade on his shoulder*, Victor made a firm decision.

‘From now on, I will protect you.’

[*E/N: this refers to a knighting ceremony. The lord (or head knight in this case) taps the prospective knight on each shoulder with their sword, usually while giving a speech.]

***

But the days of peace did not last long.

Rumors of war began to emerge from the Capital. It seemed that the southern nobles, who traded with the southern kingdom almost exclusively, were threatening action as the Empire’s trade feud with the Southern Kingdom grew more serious.

Carlz had much to say on the matter.

“There is too much greed. They are doing trade with unequal revenue, so they are not cooperative.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The trade treaty with the Southern Kingdom favors the Empire, because they are a more powerful country. So why would the Southern Kingdom want to do business with them?”

He clicked his tongue angrily.

“Look now, we call that country the Southern Kingdom. But it has an official name, ‘Indigo Land’. So, how do you think Southerners view Imperials?”

Victor and Leonard looked at Carlz with amazement.

They knew that Carlz read a lot of newspapers, but they didn’t expect him to have such a high-level understanding.

Seeing their expressions, Carlz raised his eyebrow.

“What? I’m from the South.”

“I thought you just played and ate there.”

“Hey! I am the son of a southern Count!”

Leonard and Carlz began to bicker, veering their discussion off track.

Victor steered their conversation back to its original topic.

“Will there be war?”

Carlz’s lively expression quickly distorted.

“I think it is highly likely. Conscription orders have already been issued. When the harvest season is over, an expeditionary force will be formed.”

“Do you think it will be dangerous?”

Their eyes turned to Victor.

He tried to be as expressionless as possible, but in reality, Victor was worried. If an expeditionary force was formed, the commander would be Grand Duke of Morte*, who was in the Capital.

[*E/N: this is referring to Mortheon and Victor’s dad, not Mortheon. Mortheon is the successor to the Grand Duchy, but since their father hasn’t died yet, that’s all he is.]

No matter how little he knew him, the Grand Duke was still his father. He couldn’t help but worry.

Leonard spoke quickly, as if he had read Victor’s mind.

“It will be fine. Because the power difference is so big. The Knights of Morte need to fight.”

“The Morte knights might not even have to join the battle.”

Carltz also piped up.

“Well, personally, I don’t think war is ideal, but… is it really a big deal? Your father is a very strong knight!”

“…I know.”

Victor agreed quietly. Although he had never seen him fight, his father was a fairly strong knight, on a similar level to Mortheon.

Even if he wasn’t as strong as Victor, he was skilled enough that he wouldn’t be killed easily.

Victor cleared his thoughts and silently swung his sword.

That was all he could do.

Train hard to become overwhelmingly strong.

He needed to protect his people in case he went to war.

He secretly hoped for it.

***