Save this child.

I will bear this child’s misfortune, so open the path for this child.

The woman stroked the sleeping child’s head.

The child’s cheeks were chubby with baby fat.

“I will delay the misfortune that will befall you as much as I can. This mother will suppress your misfortune. May that misfortune pass you by. The pain that tears flesh will be mine, so please, God, look after and nurture this child’s path.”

I pray for my death to delay this child’s misfortune,
May God take pity on this child, even if only a little.

[This is the timeline separator]

The wet sound of water soaked the outside.

“It’s raining again outside.”

“The weather is damp. Close the windows.”

The maids closed the windows. The muddy ground outside was wet with rainwater, giving off an earthy smell.

Charlotte, leaning on the windowsill, draped a shawl over her shoulders.

The long shawl was stepped on at her feet. The white fur lining was quite nice. She felt along her shoulders to close the seams.

The servants had all left already. Only a few maids remained by Charlotte’s side.

“How are you feeling?”

“Refreshed. I slept for four days.”

“Then we’ll be outside. Call if you need anything.”

Charlotte stared blankly at the space they had left.

“Don’t you understand their concern?”

Benjamin, who was drying his wet hair with a towel, approached. Wearing a bathrobe, he tightened the loose waist tie.

“I know the reason.”

“You’ve experienced it often.”

Charlotte placed the sword hilt in her palm.

Her hand holding the sword went limp. The hilt was carved with the imperial family’s crest, and the blade was sharp. The black scabbard stretched straight, reflecting ominously, and red silk knots were woven on the back of the blade. The knots woven with embroidery thread were worn.

“Give that here. I forgot to put it away separately.”

It was the dagger Benjamin had kept in his outer pocket, which a servant had set aside.

“You handle blades quite roughly. Can’t you be more careful?”

“…Is that why they often took it away from me as a child?”

Charlotte stroked the dagger’s hilt.

“I was always worried when you were young.”

In young Charlotte’s view, everything was deep red, perhaps because of her birth mother’s back. The young Charlotte clung to it, chewing on hair in her mouth.

“I didn’t carelessly place anything that could be a blade near me.”

“It wasn’t something a child should be near.”

“…They say I often had a gloomy appearance as a child. I would sit blankly nearby, lost in thought, and always hide away alone somewhere when my mother looked away, covering my ears even when they searched for me nearby. As if all of that was just noise to me.”

Like those who hide at a distance when tired, the young Charlotte didn’t know how to keep people close. She was more comfortable alone, and the child would squeeze her small body under drawers or into corners.

“It wasn’t childlike.”

“Where did you hide?”

“Under drawers or in closets, or leaning alone on railings sleeping like in hibernation, avoiding adults’ hands, hiding outside their view, and hardly ever crying. They say even when my eyes and cheeks turned red, I couldn’t shed tears.”

“Why?”

“Hmm. I don’t really know either. Was the outside unfamiliar? They say I refused to form relationships, unable to mingle with people. And that I… Sometimes I would stare at the servants while holding the sword hilt.”

They say everyone found it chilling, since the child who was usually quiet and reserved acted that way. Even if the treatment was bad, a young child holding a blade carried a different weight.

“That day I got cut by the blade and had a fever, and cried like other children.”

I don’t remember any of this.

“It was a bit strange.”

I think I know what my birth mother worried about before she died.

[This is the timeline separator]

“This old warrior is only now entering the palace, having wandered the subjugation front lines.”

An old knight, wet with rain, came to the imperial palace. Rainwater pooled on the eaves dripped down, forming puddles on the path.

Even with an overcoat draped on his shoulders, his robust physique was fully visible.

One arm was cut off, with the empty sleeve hanging down.

His overcoat gave off the smell of wet earth. The old man covered his empty sleeve with the overcoat draped on his shoulder.

“Is His Majesty inside?”

The imperial palace’s head servant recognized him first. The old knight patted his knee with his thick arm.

“Now even my knees ache, making it hard to walk.”

“How is your arm?”

“An old man’s joints always ache and throb.”

The old knight wore a formal uniform instead of battlefield armor. He had a thick overcoat draped on his shoulders, but one side hung limply. One forearm was cut off.

“Now I have no forearm left to lose, yet my forearm still aches. Please send word inside. I have something to report to His Majesty.”

The old man limped towards the office. A strategist nearby just bowed his head slightly. There was no hasty consideration. That wasn’t the proper etiquette for an old knight who had fought monsters.

“I pay my respects to His Majesty.”

Fedlin Dunkan, or the Pillar of Dunkan as he was called, was an old general leading a mercenary group.

Even having lost an arm, his physique was intimidating. This man had entered the palace at the imperial family’s summons.

“Still as sturdy as ever.”

“Though monsters took my arm and eye, this old warrior is still a pillar of Dunkan.”

Dunkan is one of the foundations of Pophuta.

“They dared to violate the forbidden realm. The forbidden clan, whose very existence was denied, disturbs the order of the human world, mixing up the forbidden realms.”

“Is that so?”

“Them stepping on this land means the boundaries between forbidden realms are mixing.”

Benjamin put down some documents and asked:

“You said you’ve experienced their graves before?”

“Yes. I touched their graves.”

Fedlin Dunkan lost his right arm and one eye to monsters.

“Who am I supposed to see?”

“Someone who has experienced their graves.”

“A mercenary?”

“Not someone who can wield a blade.”

What nonsense is that?

“Those who wield blades risk their lives to reach their graves. This old warrior lost an arm and an eye touching them.”

That is literally a grave. The grave of monsters that mercenaries touch, dying alongside them.

Fedlin dismissed it like that.

[This is the timeline separator]

“Y-Your Majesty!”

Charlotte whispered quietly.

“Be quiet. The match is still in full swing.”

The wrist holding the sword twisted inward.

Bang!

Dust flew in the training ground. Knights covered in dust pointed their swords at each other’s necks.

The sword tips pierced vital points, and a dull friction sound erupted.

The swords aiming for necks and vital points seemed soaked in killing intent.

Even though they were wooden swords, this match was overheated.

Bang! Bang!

The blades clashed and the wooden swords broke.

At that point, they also withdrew the swords aimed at each other’s necks.

.

.

There was a presence nearby.

Charlotte glanced sideways at the presence beside her.

“The purpose of swordsmanship is originally to annihilate the enemy.”

The old knight grasped the scabbard at his waist.

“The empire’s sword technique is sharper than other countries’.”

“Is that so?”

“These are people who grip sword hilts until their hands are torn.”

The old knight stretched out his thick arm to reenact the knights’ match.

“They twist their wrists inward to increase power, and penetrate the enemy’s vital points deeper and faster. They throw dirt to block the enemy’s vision, and put heavy weight on the sword tip.”

Throwing dirt is a vile tactic that goes against chivalry.

However, following chivalry doesn’t bring back the necks of those who have died.

He introduced himself as the Pillar of Dunkan.

“I am Fedlin Dunkan.”

Charlotte smiled faintly and replied:

“I’m meeting the Pillar of Dunkan in person.”

“Having wandered only mercenary groups and subjugation front lines, this old man is unfamiliar with palace etiquette.”

“Dunkan’s reputation has reached the imperial family, so don’t worry.”

Fedlin looked at the empress with a face that said ‘This person is ambiguous.’ He had lived a harsh life wielding blades, wandering outside as a mercenary. The Dunkan mercenary group only wandered subjugation grounds, rarely leaving Pophuta.

“Not hands that should wield a sword.”

Fedlin declared that.

“Ah, don’t misunderstand. That’s just my personal opinion.”

“Everyone says that.”

“A blade is too rough an object for a noble person to grasp.”

Charlotte looked down at her hands blankly.

“My skin tore just from gripping a sword hilt once, so it is indeed a rough object for me.”

She was just brought here as well.

There were continuous bursting sounds with every step outside, leading her here.

“Your Majesty!”

Bang!

“Are you alright?”

The imperial guards panicked and sent dust clouds flying.

There was a bursting sound like flesh tearing.

It cut sharply beside the ear as if tearing the eardrum. A few strands of dark red hair were cut.

“Have you ever held a sword?”

“Almost never.”

Fedlin took out a wooden sword from the training ground’s armory.

“A wooden sword should be fine.”

Catarina, listening nearby, objected.

“What are you trying to put in whose hand right now!”

“It’s just a wooden sword, isn’t it?”

“It’s a sword. Giving such a thing to someone who’s never properly handled a sword…”

“If the one holding the sword hilt aims the tip straight, they won’t hurt their own hand.”

Fedlin took off his overcoat and brought wooden swords from the training ground. He kept one for himself and handed one to the empress. The rough wooden sword had a blunt tip. It was a practice sword commonly used in training grounds.

“This old warrior is missing an arm. So, it shouldn’t be difficult to spar, right?”

Nearby, someone exclaimed in shock, “What is he saying now!”

“What responsibility will you take if she gets hurt! She just recently got up from being bedridden and hasn’t fully recovered her strength yet!”

“That’s true. However, it seems the subordinates have forgotten their role.”

Fedlin gripped the wooden sword with his left arm and slashed through the air.

The air barrier seemed to split with a crack!

“I understand what you’re worried about. But right now, you’re not protecting, you’re trying to isolate from the outside. Is it loyalty to block the view from above?”

“…”

“If a child is not let near water because the outside is dangerous, that child will lose even the chance to grow.”

Fedlin clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“There are many who worry, and good people by my side.”

“Their concerns are also valid, so listening to them is also my role.”

“Wielding a sword is something people like me do risking our lives. Rolling in the mud on the subjugation front lines, getting hit by night frost makes the joints ache. So, I understand what the imperial family is worried about.”

I also understand why the imperial family sent a messenger ordering me to enter the palace.

Those who wield swords meet a harsh end.

Even more so if entangled with monsters.

“I will just check, so try stabbing me with the wooden sword.”

The wooden sword had a blunt tip.

She tilted the sword body sideways.

What should I do?

“Stab me.”

“…You?”

“Just extend your arm with strength in the sword tip. Extend your arm as if aiming the sword tip at my nape.”

Benjamin answered instead:

“She’s never learned swordsmanship, so putting strength in the sword tip will be difficult.”

Benjamin approached, leading the servants.

“H-His Majesty the Emperor has arrived!”

The imperial palace servants lined up outside the training ground.

“I told you to look after the empress, not teach her swordsmanship.”