Sword Devouring Swordmaster Chapter 23 : Chapter 23

Chapter 23. Knight (1)

「Just as I said, young descendant.」

“……”

「You have not beco a complete Sword Walker, but you managed to brush against the realm of the superhuman. One could say you barely hung on to its edge.」

The special “Road” possessed only by the Caravans.

The power of the Line was overwhelmingly strong.

That strike just now was not the work of daggers—it carried the force of a magical artifact, or even a siege weapon. It crushed and destroyed bone and flesh with absurd ease.

“……My body has no strength left.”

「That’s because you used too much power. Do not worry. I’ve prepared many trainings to help you truly beco a Sword Walker.」

Should I be glad about that, or not? From what I’d experienced, Liam’s training never beca easier—they only grew harsher. At this rate, I dreaded to think what ca next.

Still, if he says jump, I must jump. That’s how it’s always been.

“So damn heavy.”

I worried less about training and more about my current state. The bandit chief of the “Red Wolf” gang, run through the throat, had not died cleanly. Instead, his massive, filthy body had collapsed on top of .

“I’ll suffocate to death under him at this rate.”

「Considering your pitiful body, it isn’t impossible.」

I sighed and wiped blood from my face. Then, awkwardly and clumsily, I wriggled out from beneath the corpse, crawling through dirt until I was free. My head was caked with mud, but there was no one to see —so what did it matter?

「Hm.」

But once I crawled out, I realized I was wrong.

「You’ve shad the Caravans enough already.」

Two familiar faces stood before .

“…Little Gladiator?”

“Lord Arhan?”

Knight Fetel and Seol Yoon, holding bright torches, were staring. My filthy appearance must have been painfully clear to them.

***

“Thank you.”

Using the towel Seol Yoon handed , I wiped off the blood and mud. As I regained a semblance of humanity, Fetel said nothing. He only stared at the corpse of the bandit chief I had slain.

“……Did you truly kill this man yourself, Lord Arhan? With no help at all?”

“Hm? Ah, yes. I was lucky.”

“Lucky… you call it luck.”

For so reason, Fetel’s expression was dark.

“Lord Arhan, a re Sword Beginner cannot, by luck, slay a Sword Walker.”

“……”

“The Arhan I rember possessed special talent, but he was inexperienced. Full of potential, yes, but lacking much. Yet this…”

Fetel’s eyes flicked back and forth. As a seasoned Sword Walker himself, he could probably reconstruct the battle just from the traces left here.

After a long silence, Fetel spoke heavily.

“Your talent is far greater than I thought.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Perhaps you were right when you said it was luck. For being chosen by the heavens… that too, is a form of luck.”

“……”

“That I was not chosen… that too is luck.”

Fetel looked especially weary today. Perhaps climbing the mountain had worsened his sickness—or perhaps depression weighed upon him as death drew near.

“Let us go down. This place is dangerous.”

He sighed as he said it. I watched him hurry ahead and asked,

“Dangerous? What’s here?”

“The knights are here. A whole order of them, prowling this mountain.”

The Knights. Far too powerful a group for such a backwater.

I gaped, stunned. “The knights? Is it your order, Sir Fetel? Have they co to see you?”

“No. I wish it were so, but I’m afraid they’ve long forgotten .”

He shook his head.

“The knights here ca for the deserter—the bandit chief of the Red Wolves you killed.”

“Ah.”

“And when they see the deserter already dead, their reaction will not be favorable.”

He had warned earlier—and it was true. The knights would co for the bandit chief.

After all, the bandit was called “the Deserter Knight.” It was inevitable.

Still, what struck was not that the knights had arrived, but Fetel’s warning: their reaction will not be favorable.

“Shouldn’t they be thanking for avenging them?”

“By common sense, yes. But knights don’t think that way. They ca to strip the deserter of honor and execute him through rightful judgnt. Now, they will believe you stole their judgnt and sentence.”

Stolen.

The word made dizzy.

What did it matter who killed the criminal, as long as justice was done? Why cling to “judgnt” and “sentence”…

Liam’s voice cut through my thoughts.

「Did I not tell you? Knights are far from righteous.」

“……”

「It seems trouble has arrived.」

He looked around the mountain path.

「The knights are practically upon us already.」

As soon as he spoke, the sound of hoofbeats thundered. Light burst in from every direction.

“Who did this?”

The dark mountain lit up like day. Dozens of knights appeared, clad in gleaming silver helms and full armor.

“Speak. Before my patience is gone.”

The Knights. Iron-clad judges, all their swords pointed at us.

“Speak! Who dared slay the runaway cur we were ant to judge and condemn?”

At the vanguard, a knight roared like a beast. The mont his voice rang, my head throbbed as though struck with a hamr. My stomach churned, my body trembled.

‘Am I too exhausted?’

It felt like my breath would stop. My heart raced wildly. Beside , Seol Yoon’s face had gone pale. She too was crushed beneath the pressure.

Only Fetel stood calm, facing the knight. With weary determination, he spoke, his hoarse voice carrying through the night.

“I killed him.”

The old, sickly, discarded knight’s eyes shone before the mighty warrior.

“What?”

“Did you not hear? I, Fetel, once of the ‘Green Stag’ Order, victor of seventeen honor duels, who upheld honor above all… I killed your deserter knight.”

Though he had coughed blood endlessly before, this ti he spoke with perfect clarity. His voice echoed through the silent mountain.

“Is there a problem?”

The knight fell silent. Then he shut his eyes, sighed deeply, and answered.

“Fetel the Loyal.”

“Yes.”

“You have stained your honor. You knew we pursued the cur, that we sought to judge him, yet you stole our sacred sentence. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Fetel answered firmly.

The knight said:

“Fetel.”

“Yes.”

“I challenge you to an honor duel.”

The words fell. Silence followed.

Then—wings sprouted from the knight’s back.

The mark of a Sword Runner.

The proof of a true powerhouse.

Gasps echoed, but Fetel alone was calm.

“Yes.”

Why? The sick knight gave the sa answer again.

***

An honor duel.

A tradition among knights sworn to uphold honor and order.

One who stains honor, one who breaks the code, must fight a duel to the death. Victory restored one’s honor. Defeat stripped it away, and the body was displayed in disgrace.

For that reason, such duels were rare. Especially if there was a great gap in skill.

To knights, honor outweighed life itself. Better the guillotine than disgrace after death.

“Why did you accept?”

I could not help asking.

“I saw the gap in that knight’s armor. Unless he is a mad exhibitionist, it was the mark of a Sword Runner. He even revealed his wings openly! How could you fight a Sword Runner, Sir Fetel?”

“…I cannot.”

“You are sick besides! You spoke of watching the sunset before dying in peace. Then do that! If you die of illness, I will honor you, I will rember you. Please, say no to this duel.”

I was frantic, almost shouting. Fetel, however, smiled instead of frowning.

“Thank you, Lord Arhan. You care for so deeply, though we have not known each other long. It warms my heart.”

I gritted my teeth.

“You cannot win. If you lose, you lose not only life but honor! You are the most honorable knight I have t—”

“It’s all right.”

He cut off.

“Sotis, there are things more important than honor.”

His eyes grew distant.

“Once… I wished to be the hero of the tale. To be the knight who never faltered, who stood against dreadful foes without fear. Like the protagonist of a chivalric romance.”

But there would be no miracle recovery before the duel.

Reality was not a novel.

He felt ti eating away at him. Even against Arhan or Seol Yoon, he might lose. His hard-earned strength was a mirage, crumbling before death.

And yet.

“It has always been my dream.”

He wished to know if it was truly just a mirage. Even if it cost his life, even if it cost his honor.

“You will regret this, Sir Fetel.”

I turned away, furious, and ran. Behind , Fetel laughed softly and placed a hand on his sword, gazing at the rising sun.

The dawn resembled the sunsets he loved so much. Not dusk, but daybreak. Still, it entranced him.

***

「He will die.」

Liam’s voice was certain.

「A seasoned Sword Walker? A knight with countless duels? It ans nothing.」

「If it were Sword Beginner against Sword Walker, perhaps. But Sword Walker against Sword Runner? There is no chance.」

He never lied about swords.

And he had never been wrong.

「The higher the realm, the wider the gap.」

「This is an execution. The Sword Runner will crush that sick knight like a lion crushing an ant, and disgrace his honor. As all knights I’ve seen have done.」

I gasped, staring at the blazing sun over the mountain.

「Why do you care so much for Fetel? Even if he dies, his blade remains, and you will gain what you desire. He is just a knight you barely know.」

Even Liam’s cold words could not calm my heart.

“…He reminds of my father.”

My father, who after defeat to Swordmaster Carlos, raised his shabby blade and challenged the strongest despite the futility.

In Fetel, choosing to face the impossible, I saw my father’s shadow.

“I cannot bear it. I cannot stand to see arrogant strong n crushing honorable weak n just because they can. If I turn away now, my revenge loses all aning.”

Liam was silent for a ti. Then:

「Even if you lose the chance to claim a seasoned Sword Walker’s blade?」

“I don’t care. There are more important things!”

He smiled faintly.

「Good. A sword must not be bound to steel alone. Your heart pleases , young descendant.」

He drifted closer, whispering.

「There is a way. A way all can be saved.」

“What way?”

After a pause, he answered.

「You fight in his stead. Beco Fetel’s champion in the honor duel. That is the only way.」