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Now reading: Chapter 2: Nothing Matters In Death from Treatise Of A Failed Knight, a Fantasy novel by Magecrafter.

Has my life been for nothing?

As I lay on my soft bed, feeling my bones grate against one another despite hardly moving, this thought has refused to leave .

My joints ache incessantly. My aged body isn’t the sa as it used to be, and the sa goes for my mind, yet for so reason... I can’t help but delve into deep thought this chilly evening.

Ah, it’s so chilly.

This reminds of all those nights I spent training, practicing my way with the sword.

Even when I was told to take a break—I persevered.

Even when my Master forbade from doing any more—I disobeyed.

Even when my brother encouraged to relent—I refused.

I wasn’t as talented as my brother or my master, so that was the least I could do. I would sneak out often to train and train so more, until my body grew weak and my callouses bled.

Even then, I would hide my wounds from my master and undergo harsh training the next day.

Now that I think of it, Master probably knew about everything.

But why didn’t he stop ?

"Perhaps he understood my frustration back then..." A hoarse, elderly voice shakily escapes my lips, and I wonder if it belongs to .

The voice sounds so ugly—so weak and fragile—that it couldn’t possibly be mine.

Strange. There’s no one else here, though.

It’s just .

The chilly night blesses with its winds once more, and I shiver—almost sneezing, but catching myself right as I am about to let out an embarrassing sound. As a Knight, even in my sick bed, I have to maintain so of my dignity.

At least, I think so.

So... where was I?

Ah, yes! The thought of my youth.

As the firstborn of the Aditi Knight Family, I was raised to be the heir of our entire Household.

I was the sole heir, though I had two siblings. My younger brother was far more talented with the sword than I, but he never fully applied himself and often got in trouble for his reckless and frankly foolish behavior.

"I want to be a musician!" He would yell out one day, and then the next he would say sothing completely different, like:

"I want to be an artist!" or "I just want to be a cook."

At so point, he beca so interested in embroidery that he disguised himself as a woman and started taking classes at a local school. Such a silly boy, unable to make up his mind on what he wanted in life.

It seed like he wanted to do everything—anything but pick up the sword.

Still... at the very least, he chased after them with no fear.

If it wasn’t for , who restrained him from pursuing all of those interests of his, he would perhaps have figured out what he wanted to do with his life in the end.

But that didn’t quite work out for him, did it?

My younger brother died in battle, serving his Kingdom as a low-rank Knight in a war that he had no interest in. At the ti, I thought that was an honorable death, one that gave his life aning.

Now, I no longer think that way.

What about my sister? She was a beauty in the eyes of many, but her brutish personality made her very problematic to deal with. She craved the sword the most, and her passion for it exceeded even mine.

Unlike , she even had incredible talent for swordsmanship.

Had she been born as a man, she would have been the perfect knight—the joy of our Aditi Household.

But, as a woman, she had to stick to her role and fulfill her duties to the family.

"Brother, please! I know I can do it, so let beco a Knight!" I rember how she would often pester about it. "There are more and more won becoming Knights these days! Why can’t I be like them?"

"Please brother... I will do anything... anything but marry that man...."

Her words fade alongside most of my mories, but I can’t seem to forget the distressed expression she had on her face when she told these things. Back then, my sister was very tough and had an unladylike personality.

But, she was also very warm and kindhearted to .

Yet—

"I married her off to a Noble to increase our declining family’s standing and strengthen our connection to his more powerful family..."

At first, she resisted. But then, I told her she had to abandon her selfish aspirations and fulfill her duties to the family.

It seed my words really struck her.

She no longer questioned my command, and she finally did as she was told.

After birthing an heir to the Noble, she took her own life right in her matrimonial bedroom and didn’t even leave behind a letter to explain her suicide. Back then, I was so confused and distressed, almost to the point of insanity.

I sought every answer that would explain such an extre action from her.

At first, I suspected her husband of abuse. But after investigating the matter thoroughly, I found that he wasn’t an abusive man. Sure, he was neglectful in so ways, and he berated her to the point of diminishing whatever flicker remained of her self-worth.

But, at the very least, he didn’t hit her.

Maybe he knew his hand would be sent flying—not by , but by my sister—if he dared raise it against her. I have lived for three more decades after that incident, and I’m just getting it now.

My sister... she wasn’t happy there.

Her life was an empty husk—a shell—which presented a dull world that lacked excitent.

In the eyes of everyone, she was nothing more than a machine to birth and rear children, despite her endless potential as a warrior.

What was her offense?

Was it the fact that she was born as a woman? Or that she was an important piece for the Aditi Household? Or... was it having as her older brother?

I already know the answer to that now.

I know that I was an awful older brother to my siblings. I forced them down the paths they didn’t desire, ensuring their short lives led to nothing but misery up until their deaths.

It’s all my fault... or is it?

After all, despite how hard I was on them, was I not much harder on myself?

Despite having no talent, I was unmatched in discipline and constantly pushed myself to the limits so I could master the Martial Techniques of my family and lead it as a proper heir. I upheld all of the expectations that my family had of , making my parents proud, and doing everything it took to raise the prestige of our Knight Household.

Yes, I restricted the lives of my siblings, but it wasn’t like I was freely enjoying mine either.

It was... all for the sake of the family.

But where is the family now?

My parents, who pushed to be an exemplary Knight and ensured I pursued no other path, are no longer of this world. I wanted to be a filial son, to make them proud. I worked so hard, despite the dead end awaiting as a Knight, because I truly wanted to please them.

But, they are dead now.

My two siblings, the core mbers and future of the Aditi Household, are also dead.

My uncles, aunts, and everyone whom I tried to impress all my life—just so I wouldn’t bring sha to our Main Family... all of them are dead.

My cousins have either married off to other Households, have died in battle, or have left to live all kinds of lives—most of which I can no longer rember. In the end, everyone walked a path, much of it leading to the sa end.

—Death.

And now, it seems my turn draws near.

Why am I having all of these morbid thoughts? Why now? Even my old injuries seem fresh in my mind for so reason now. How did I sustain them again?

Oh, I rember!

As a Knight, I only made minor contributions here and there in order to serve the Randalorion Kingdom. Despite how hard I tried to accrue rits, I simply could not move up the ranks due to my diocre skills.

The Aditi Knight Household was barely even a Middle Tier one, so I wasn’t particularly the cream of the crop.

In the end, I had to retire after suffering heavy injuries that made incapable of future battles.

After leaving the battlefield, I entered the political realm of the world. Due to the low status of my family, in an already declining Kingdom, I wasn’t privy to much information, but I did my best to make a few connections here and there.

I was inadequate in many ways, but I still managed to secure an arranged marriage with a relatively wealthy noble and did my best to lead my family’s estate until old age.

But... all for what?

I didn’t stop to think for a mont before, but now that I reminisce about the past, the realization is dawning on —it has never been much clearer:

I actually lived an empty life.

My life was not my own. It was filled with no purpose or satisfaction.

All the people I worked so hard for are either dead, no longer with , or utterly irrelevant to my life. Even after I inherited the estate as its new Head and stood at the pinnacle of the Aditi Household, I was more shackled than ever.

I married a woman I didn’t love. Even after having children, I never had ti for any of them due to how busy I was with all my responsibilities.

My mind is so foggy right now, and though I can recollect so details about my life, I don’t even rember the nas of my children. All I know is that I followed in the footsteps of my parents, enforcing my values onto them and forcing them down a path of discipline so they could live for the sake of the Aditi Household...

... Just as I did.

Right now, on my dying bed, I recognize so many mistakes I made.

Regret.

Regret is piling up within .

"I-if only... I could start all over. If I could go back, I would change everything..."

I wouldn’t be such a stuck-up brother.

I wouldn’t be such a filial son.

I wouldn’t be so bothered about the expectant gazes of others.

I would live for myself, and only myself, staying true to my own desires in life.

"Instead of living such a life of futility while forcing others around to also do the sa, I would make different choices..." The ugly croak that I now recognize as my voice echoes out into the room.

I barely open up my eyes and see all manner of faces around . I don’t recognize any of them, but the woman right next to must be my wife.

The little ones around my bed must be my children.

The people surrounding my bed, they must be relatives, friends, and acquaintances made from the accumulation of my life. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting such a crowd.

Not like it matters anyway.

’Indeed...’ My thoughts finally go silent as my stiff body turns cold and I return to the embrace of the world, left with only one realization that ca a little too late.

’... Nothing matters in death.’

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