Re:Zero Kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu (LN) - Volume EX2 - Chapter 7

THE LOVE SONG OF THE SWORD DEVIL

Seventh Stanza

1

At that time, a certain subject was frequently discussed by the members of Zergev Squadron. It was a matter that struck at the very heart of the squadron, one every member felt deeply and personally concerned about. It would not be too much to describe it as a dramatic change.

“Laslow, fall back!” Wilhelm ordered the soldier, catching the battle-ax with his sword. Until a second earlier, the man he had spoken to had been all but cornered by the enemy’s brutal attack. When Wilhelm saw this, he was there faster than the wind, intercepting the enemy’s blow and ordering Laslow to safety.

As his squad mate gulped down air, Wilhelm forced the enemy back. Overwhelmed by the Sword Devil’s sheer force of will, the ax-wielding beast-man took a stab to the thigh, howling as he toppled to the ground. This was the moment for Wilhelm to leap on him, strike the finishing blow—

“Give me your hand. Get to the rear as quick as you can, idiot.”

But Wilhelm didn’t pursue his crippled foe. Instead, he gave his wounded ally his shoulder to lean on. Surprised by the strength in his small frame, the hulking soldier stuttered out an apology.

“I-I’m sorry, Vice Captain!”

“If you have time to apologize, use it to train better. Then we won’t have to leave a hole in our front line.”

His words sounded harsh, but he moved carefully as he supported the wounded man. Other squad members covered their withdrawal, and once he had deposited Laslow safely in the rear, the Sword Devil went back to the battle with all speed.

Then, cutting a swath through the enemy forces, he shouted, “Don’t act like a bunch of green rookies, Zergev Squadron! Look them in the eye and fight!”

With this exhortation to both himself and his comrades, Wilhelm dashed forward. Countless silver flashes followed, each one felling an enemy soldier, the Sword Devil single-handedly raising the morale of his men.

The name of Wilhelm Trias, the Sword Devil, was so widely known and respected that it was said to be the hope of the royal army and the despair of the Demi-human Alliance.

“I can’t believe the change in that man… It makes me a little ill.”

“Ah, don’t be so hard on him, Miss Carol. It just goes to show that even Wilhelm has a good side. But I’ve seen him grow up, and I have to admit, it does feel a bit strange!” Bordeaux laughed heartily. With the help of his battle-ax, he had decimated the enemies in one part of the frontline.

Carol all but ignored Bordeaux’s guffaws, fending off an encroaching enemy soldier with her sword.

“I’ve known him since before he changed, too,” she went on. “I’m not trying to be cold. I just wonder what he’s planning, acting like that…and when he’ll show his true colors.”

“—”

Carol had a look of disgust in her eyes. Beside her, Grimm pounded his shield as if to speak. His usually friendly face was full of reproach as he shook his head at Carol.

“I’m sorry, Grimm. But I just can’t get used to it…”

“There’s lots of opinions about the new Wilhelm in the squadron. But at the end of the day, everyone pretty much agrees with me and Grimm. It’s a real sudden change…but not a bad one.”

“…I do know that.”

“Heck, they say ‘fire and a hammer are all it takes to temper steel.’ He can be prickly, but I guess he can also change pretty quick when he has a reason. It’d be interesting if that reason were a woman…”

“Erk…”

“What’s wrong? You know something I don’t?” Bordeaux gave her an intrigued look, but Carol shook her head vigorously, a troubled expression coming over her neat features.

“I don’t know any— This puts me in a difficult position vis-à-vis my assigned duties. Please understand.”

“What you mean is you do know something about it. But I get it. I won’t press you.”

“I’d appreciate that. Even so, I just can’t get used to it…”

Carol watched as Wilhelm continued to protect his allies and cut down the enemy. In the midst of violent sword battles, he would help his squad mates and deliver words of advice. It was a profound transformation.

If it had caused him to lose his focus and had negatively impacted his abilities in battle, that would have made it a problem, but Wilhelm’s prowess had not faded in the least—if anything, he might have been even more capable than before.

“—”

“I know, Grimm, I know! We’ll keep pushing the enemy back.”

Let’s not let Wilhelm show us up, Grimm had said. The two of them advanced to the front line. Bordeaux watched them go, resting his ax across both shoulders.

“Speaking of changes,” he said, “I don’t think you’re the same person you were when you first met Grimm, Miss Carol. But I guess maybe you don’t realize it. Ahh, damn it, you’re all so young!”

Bordeaux laughed wildly and looked to the side, hoping for someone to agree with him. But it was just force of habit; the man he half expected to see standing just a step behind him wasn’t there. Bordeaux touched the wounds on his face and cracked his neck. Then he bellowed, “Hey, save some for me! We’ll destroy all these barbarians!”

After the fight at the castle, Bordeaux Zergev had continued to improve his technique with his ax. Now, he showed the fruits of all that practice, wading into the fight even though he was himself a commander. It was a battle that encapsulated both what had changed about Zergev Squadron and what hadn’t.

2

After their assigned period of defensive duty ended, Zergev Squadron returned to the capital for the first time in two weeks.

They arrived in the city late at night, and most of the squad members would probably spend their first day of leave asleep. But Wilhelm, who had perhaps fought harder than anyone else in the squadron, woke early and left the barracks.

He walked through the crisp, cool air, his beloved sword hanging at his side. When the town guard saw him, they straightened up and gave respectful salutes. Wilhelm waved a hand casually at them and headed for the castle town. Soon he would be at the plaza in the poor district. They had no set date or time. They didn’t know what their plans would be, and Wilhelm himself had no specific days off.

Hence, it was down to luck whether the person he was looking for would be there or not. And on this day…

“Oh, Wilhelm. You made it today.”

Theresia, who had arrived first, turned around when she noticed Wilhelm. The wind picked up her long red hair, and she smiled at him. Wilhelm raised an eyebrow. The source of his bemusement was the place she was standing: right in the middle of the field of flowers.

“I know that look,” she said. “‘What’s this girl up to?’ you’re wondering.”

“Well, thank you for putting my feelings into words. What are you up to, ‘this girl’?”

“I’d say that’s just the question. What am I up to?” Theresia said innocently. Then suddenly, she raised one bare foot. The hem of her dress shifted with the motion, revealing a pale thigh. Wilhelm quickly averted his eyes.

“What’s this?” Theresia said. “Is that too stimulating for a purehearted young man?”

“Stop playing tomboy, dummy. I told you before, this place isn’t safe. If you leave yourself vulnerable, you’ll pay for it eventually.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that. After all, I have a big, bad swordsman with me, don’t I?” she said with a wink. The gesture caused Wilhelm’s voice to catch in his throat. He ran a hand nervously through his chestnut hair as he dutifully approached her.

“Okay, out with it. What is it you’re doing? Rediscovering your inner child and playing barefoot in the dirt?”

“H-how rude! I can rediscover my inner child if I want. And anyway, I’m not playing in the dirt! You’re completely wrong! Blind! Insensitive!”

“Gosh, why’d you have to lay it on so thick?”

She really was a woman of intense emotions. She laughed from the heart, but she got sincerely angry as well. He genuinely believed he would never get tired of her laughter and shouting, her smiles and her frowns. The thought left even Wilhelm a little exasperated with himself.

“The correct answer is…I’m planting seeds for some new flowers!”

“New seeds?”

While he’d stood transfixed by her profile, Theresia had grown impatient and had blurted out the answer herself. But it only caused Wilhelm to regard her curiously.

Theresia pointed at the field and said, “Yes, that’s right. The seasons will change soon, so the flowers have to change, too, don’t they? I’m sorry to see my flowers wither, but I can raise new ones for the new season.”

“Raise them? I’ve never even seen you water this thing.”

“I-it’s true I mostly let them take care of themselves, but I’m the one who gave them that first push! And I plan to take good care of them this time. So maybe you could be so kind as to not sneer?”

Theresia always had to give back double what she got when she felt she’d been wronged. At the end of this tirade, however, Theresia gazed at the field and added, “Besides. If there aren’t any flowers here, I won’t have an excuse to come anymore.”

“—”

Wilhelm caught his breath. An excuse. It had been their unspoken understanding when they met here.

“—”

Theresia was coming to check on her flowers, Wilhelm to practice his sword work. But their facade had already all but broken down. They more or less neglected their alleged objectives—Theresia mostly, and Wilhelm entirely. It was not, of course, that Wilhelm had any less reverence for his sword. It was simply that now his reason for coming here was Theresia.

Both of them knew it, surely. Yet they never said it aloud, and continued to meet this way. It must have been from fear of change.

Even now, as he continued to be pounded like steel, to be reshaped, he didn’t seem to realize.

Wilhelm turned away, unable to bear her gaze any longer. “You know…there’s something I’d like to report to you, too.”

“Report?” Theresia looked at him quizzically.

He could feel her eyes on him. “Yeah,” he said. “They recognized my deeds in combat. There was talk of some award or something, and…I’m a knight now.”

“—”

He could sense her holding her breath. At her reaction, Wilhelm made a fist, careful to keep it where Theresia would not see it. The decisive factor in his promotion to knighthood was that he had helped thwart the demi-human attack on the castle. The change in Wilhelm’s behavior after that, along with a recommendation from Bordeaux, had sealed the promotion.

In the past, Wilhelm might have turned down this award, but now he accepted gratefully. He took pride in this proof that his achievements had been recognized. Neither would his conscience let him disdain the efforts of Bordeaux and his other companions to get this for him.

Then there was the fact that being a knight pleased him in his heart of hearts.

“Oh? Congratulations. I guess this brings you one step closer to your dream.”

“My dream?”

The thought had been so secret that Theresia’s remark took him by surprise.

She put her hand to her mouth as if Wilhelm’s wide-eyed look amused her. “You use your sword to protect people, don’t you? And a knight is someone who protects people.” She looked quite certain about this, and her lips turned up, for some reason, with what he thought was pride.

Finally, it made sense to him. He etched her smile into his memory so that she would always be among those things he was fighting to protect.

3

After visiting Theresia, the sun now high in the sky, Wilhelm headed for the merchants’ quarter. The kingdom might have been exhausted by the ongoing civil war, but it didn’t seem to make a dent in the avarice of the merchants who went in and out of town. In the whole of the capital, only the commercial quarter still had the same bustling activity as before. The familiar little restaurant was no exception.

“The usual,” he said to the girl at the door, then went to a corner seat far in the back. The person he’d come to meet was already sitting there, just pouring himself a drink.

“Drinking at this hour? Pretty ballsy, even for a day off.”

Wilhelm took the seat across from the man. Despite Wilhelm’s rough words, the man laughed voicelessly and began pouring a drink for the newcomer. He shook his head, and the serving girl brought him water. The man across from Wilhelm raised his glass insistently. Frowning, Wilhelm indulged with a clink of their glasses.

I never thought the day would come when you and I would sit down and drink together.

Once Wilhelm had wetted his lips with that first sip of water, the other man pushed a paper at him with those words written on it. Wilhelm had become accustomed to this, but there was no denying it was inconvenient. He tapped the paper with one finger.

“Me neither. But I’m not drinking. Who would want to drink that swill, anyway?”

It’s nice to know that some things about you haven’t changed.

Grimm offered this brief sentence and a smile. Wilhelm felt a twinge of guilt, realizing he’d done it again. He was so quick to spiteful speech and aggressive actions. It was a bad habit of his. Despite a desire and an effort to change, such a long-standing part of his personality could not be so easily transformed.

At length, he fell quiet, watching Grimm silently pour himself another drink. Wilhelm let himself be taken in by Grimm’s gentleness. He realized, now, how he had been the beneficiary of so many kindnesses.

Unconsciously, Wilhelm touched the sword at his hip, drawing comfort from the familiar feeling. Suddenly, Grimm set the bottle of alcohol on the table, and with his free hand he pointed at Wilhelm’s chest.

“—? Oh, the crest. I guess it’s because I’m a knight now.”

Grimm was looking at the dragon emblem on Wilhelm’s left breast. It was a proof of status he had been granted upon promotion to knighthood; the crest bore upon it a Dragon Jewel.

“I guess it’s pretty unusual for someone to rise from commoner to knight, but…well, when they found out about my background, it didn’t take long for that talk to stop.”

Wilhelm had once been seen as a symbol of something to aspire to, a commoner who had risen like a star to the highest ranks. But when it came out that his bloodline was related to Lugunican nobility, many people were even more surprised than when he had become known as the Sword Devil. One’s birth has minimal impact on one’s skills with the sword, but humans are simply happier if they think they see a reason for the way things are.

“It turns out not much changes when you become a knight. What about you? If you and Carol get together, you’ll be part of a famous house. That’s a quicker route to the top, if you ask me.”

Tired of being interrogated, Wilhelm asked a pointed question of his own. Grimm turned so red that he didn’t need to say anything to communicate his embarrassment. He put his glass to his lips as if to indicate that he would offer no comment. Wilhelm’s ability to guess more or less what Grimm was thinking from his expressions and gestures was another recent difference.

Once he started paying more attention to what was going on around him, he was surprised to realize how much humans communicated without using words. That was what happened when one took observation skills honed on the battlefield and applied them to everyday life.

Have you told your family about becoming a knight?

“Contacted my family? No, not a word. Frankly, I don’t even know how I’d face them. But it’s also… Showing up the minute I get a promotion wouldn’t look good. I want to at least wait until the civil war is mopped up.”

Wilhelm’s relationship with his birth family had come to light as a result of his promotion. Surely his family was aware of his rise through the ranks, but that was all the more reason to take care.

You mean like maybe once you’re ready to bring home a girl to marry?

“Hrrrft!”

Wilhelm spat out his water at the words in front of him. He shot a glance at Grimm that said, I never know what you’re going to say next, but Grimm was trying to suppress a smile. He had gotten Wilhelm back for earlier, and how. Wilhelm castigated himself for letting himself react.

Everyone’s noticed how much you’ve changed. The whole squad is trying to figure out who’s behind it.

“…Can’t you find anything more productive to gab about?”

You probably know this better than anyone, but we were all surprised. Who managed to do this to you?

Grimm was completely convinced that the cause of Wilhelm’s change of heart was a girl. And he wasn’t wrong, but if Wilhelm confirmed it here, he wouldn’t be able to hide it from Theresia.

“Don’t be dumb. I’ve had enough of this stupid—”

It would be really sweet if you became a knight for her sake… It’s not Lady Mathers, is it?

“Like hell! I wouldn’t have anything to do with that woman if Pristela sank into the sea!”

You don’t have to get so upset.

Grimm was grinning, but Wilhelm had real goose bumps. He wished Grimm would quit joking around.

Incidentally, Pristela was a major city in the western part of Lugunica. It was at the conflux of several prominent rivers, a city of floodgates that had yet to suffer water damage in all the centuries since it had been built.

“Anyway, we haven’t even seen her on the battlefield lately. We only run into her every once in a while.”

I think that “every once in a while” is because she wants to see your face. It’s cute.

After they had succeeded in eliminating the witch Sphinx, the Demi-human Alliance’s magical offensives had become considerably less potent. That also meant far fewer occasions on which they encountered Roswaal, the special magical advisor. But she did, indeed, faithfully come to see Wilhelm, although rarely.

Carol stays with Lady Mathers, so we haven’t seen too much of her on the battlefield, either. I’m glad about that. I know she’s stronger than me, but I don’t want her out there too much with the battles the way they are these days.

Wilhelm gave a short nod. “True enough.” He couldn’t stand it anymore and gave a great stretch of his back. Even though the Demi-human Alliance had lost Valga and its other pillars, its attacks hadn’t ended. If anything, the alliance had gotten more violent than before, with little regard for the consequences. “I guess without a strategist to check them, there’s no one to hold them back. I think taking death before surrender is stupid, but it’s led to plenty of casualties.”

They have no way to retreat, no matter how terrible the battle is.

The bloodbath at the castle had been the great last-ditch effort of the demi-human leaders. In its aftermath, it was unexpected that the flames of war should not only fail to subside but burn hotter. Or rather, one person had expected it—Valga. He had even hoped for it.

“Maybe he knew that his death would fan the flames of demi-human anger and turn this into a war of mutual destruction.”

Even so, the demi-humans are at a disadvantage. They don’t have the numbers. Valga must have known that.

Grimm seemed to feel it didn’t make sense, but Wilhelm thought he understood. Valga Cromwell wanted to put an end to the world. The world was full of outrages and unjustified killing, and Valga wanted to do such damage to it that it turned on its head. If that was his goal, then the current situation was quite in line with it.

The flames of the demi-humans’ anger aren’t going out. I wonder if there’s a way to end this fighting.

“I told him I would keep killing until there were no more enemies to kill. But…I’m not sure that’s realistic anymore. If there’s any chance, I think it has to be something more positive.”

Positive?

“Something that will douse the flames of hatred and take away the fuel.”

He felt like he was grasping at straws. If there had ever been such a possibility, the Demi-human War had changed things dramatically. What they truly needed was strength to match the rage.

Something even more imposing than Valga’s ideals and the demi-humans’ hatred.

“If we had someone or something like that…I wonder what it would even be called.”

“—”

Wilhelm’s whisper caused Grimm to fall into what appeared to be a thoughtful silence. Then he seemed to think of something and wrote slowly on his paper.

A hero.

He had written only those two words. Wilhelm nodded.

A hero, he thought. Yes, a hero.

Someone who was not just a hero in name only but a real one, like in the stories. Someone with more power than Wilhelm, the Sword Devil, or the renowned battlefield outfit Zergev Squadron, or the peerless royal guard.

Someone like the Sword Saint, who had once dispelled the terror that lay over the world…

If there was to be an end to this fighting, it lay in such impossible hopes.

4

“Myyy goodness. You’re back sooo late.”

“—”

When Wilhelm returned to his room, he found a woman lounging elegantly on his bed—Roswaal. Without a word, he stared at her. Her eyes were free of malice as she smiled at him; she seemed to be enjoying herself.

“You’ve been out on the training grounds, sweating up a storm, and now you want to turn all that heat on a member of the opposite sex… Is that how you’re feeling?”

“I’m feeling awfully tired of seeing you just waltz into my room. What the hell is the barracks captain doing? Doesn’t he realize he’s supposed to keep suspicious people out of here?”

“He used to let me in because he was afraid of me. But now he does it as a favor to an old friend…or sooomething like that?”

“You need to mind your own business.”

He recalled the salute the pudgy barracks captain had offered him as he entered the building. Wilhelm had dramatically improved his relationships with not just Zergev Squadron but also the other soldiers. Still, this was not going to help things any. If the captain let every visitor, well-wisher, and alleged buddy into his room, he might never get another chance to relax.

“So?” Wilhelm asked. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

“Suuurely you know there’s only one reason a woman abandons her shame at night to sneak into the room of the man she desires. A primal, instinctive—now, now, don’t get so angry.”

Wilhelm’s glare had begun turning aggressive, and Roswaal immediately abandoned any flirtatiousness. She let out an annoyed breath, observing Wilhelm with her asymmetrically colored eyes. “I could haaardly make my affection more obvious, and yet you have all the reaction of a steel wall. I’m going to lose my confidence in myself as a woman at this rate.”

“I’m happy to respond earnestly to people who have sincere affection for me. But if they don’t, then I don’t waste my time with them.”

“Hmm.” Roswaal closed one eye and lapsed into thought. Wilhelm ignored her and grabbed something to wipe himself down with. After he had parted ways with Grimm, Wilhelm had headed to the training grounds and was indeed very sweaty. He did at least possess enough discretion, though, not to start changing clothes in front of a woman.

“Then let’s talk in a spirit of sincere affection. Not as a man and woman, unfortunately, but as friends,” Roswaal said. The tone of her voice had suddenly changed, and Wilhelm looked at her. Roswaal was still sitting just as she had been before, but her behavior was completely different. It was a side of her he had seen only rarely, on the battlefield, when she had been displaying her full desire to catch Sphinx.

In other words, Roswaal was now well and truly serious.

“With the help of you and your friends,” she said, “I was able to achieve my objective. Consider this my heartfelt expression of gratitude for your help.”

“…Go on.”

“The civil war is threatening to find its way into the territory of the House of Trias. Your family.”

“Wha…?!”

Wilhelm’s eyes went wide at this unexpected news. Roswaal folded her long legs and nodded gravely.

“Yes. I have some acquaintances around there. I’m sure this isn’t easy for you to hear. I came here to tell you myself, fearing it might otherwise be too laaate.”

“Why would you…? For that matter, why would they…?”

“Of course, there’s nothing in the Trias lands worth attacking. The local lord and the royal army will both find it a bolt from the blue. Buuut the demi-humans aren’t so logical these days. You understand?”

The demi-humans who burned with the remnants of Valga’s hatred had nothing more to stop them, nor even anything to make them distinguish one target from another. Their actions might lead nowhere, yet the flames of this civil war could not be doused.

“Then again, I suppose it could be revenge against you for killing their leaders, my dear Wilhelm Trias.”

“—” When one wounds another, it creates a reason for revenge. The beginning of this civil war, as well as its continuance, hinged on such reasons. And Wilhelm was in no position to condemn these actions.

“I think your best hope is to talk to your superiors. I believe our friend Bordeaux would not do wrooong by you. Although it might take some time.”

Then Roswaal stood up from the bed as if to signal that their conversation was over. She walked right past Wilhelm, who stood ramrod straight, and headed for the door.

Before she could leave, however, Wilhelm demanded, “…Just what do you want here? What do you think you’re going to get?”

Roswaal stopped. “I don’t have any dark designs. It’s unusual for me to feel such affection for someone. If I can help the few people I care about to be happy, so much the better. I promise my motives are nothing more sinister than that.”

She didn’t turn around as she spoke, and he couldn’t see her face. Wilhelm swallowed heavily at the weight of her words. But then she shrugged and turned her head so she could see him out of the corner of her eye. She was smiling.

“What you do is your choice. Make sure you won’t regret it.”

And with that, Roswaal J. Mathers left the room.

Wilhelm stared after her. After a moment’s silence, he came back to himself. He rushed to grab the overshirt he had just stripped off and nearly flew out of the room to go see Bordeaux.

When he got out into the hallway, Roswaal was already gone.

5

“First, let me confirm the situation. It’ll depend what’s going on, but I’ll err on the side of deploying the squadron. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Wilhelm.”

When Wilhelm had told Bordeaux about the impending threat to the Trias lands, Bordeaux had nodded with unaccustomed seriousness and given this reply. He had then set off for headquarters.

Wilhelm watched him go. Reporting the problem was all he could do right now. He ground his teeth at his own helplessness, but he had enough self-control now to bear it. He had the emblem of knighthood on his chest; it was a sign of his awareness that he would no longer be permitted to act as rashly as he had before.

“Let me repeat that,” Bordeaux had said. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Knights are almost never stripped of their rank once promoted, but people know who you are now. You aren’t just a nameless swordsman who can go anywhere he wants.”

Twilight was deepening as the curtain of night draped over the capital. As he walked along the main street, he replayed Bordeaux’s words again and again in his mind.

He couldn’t just wait quietly in his quarters. He had altogether too much time on his hands, and his feet seemed to drag him slowly but surely toward the plaza in the poor district. It was hours since he had seen Theresia, exchanged their usual words, and then parted ways. He had never before gone to that place twice in one day.

“Wilhelm?”

So he was surprised to find the red-haired girl standing in the darkened square.

Unlike the main street, this plaza opened onto the back alleys, and as such there were no artificial lights. It was a cloudy night, and he could barely see his hand in front of his face. Theresia couldn’t possibly see her flowers in the darkness, yet she was waiting alone in that square.

Theresia looked at Wilhelm and blinked her blue eyes. “What’s wrong…? You’re making such a scary face.”

“What’s a girl doing out here at this time of night anyway?”

“Why, this almost sounds like… Ah!” Theresia clapped her hands as if she had figured something out. “Hmm…I’d sort of like to ask you the same question, but maybe it wouldn’t be very polite. You don’t look like you’re much for jokes.”

“—”

Wilhelm didn’t reply, but something felt off to him about the way Theresia was talking, almost as though she was playing a part. As he thought about why this should be, he hit upon a possible reason—and what she was probably thinking.

This was almost the same conversation they’d had the first time they’d met.

“—”

Truth be told, Wilhelm didn’t feel he had the time at this moment to indulge Theresia’s little games, but she eyed him so innocently while awaiting his response that he couldn’t help but play along.

He easily put on the grimace of annoyance that he had worn at their first meeting. Then he said, “There’s a lot of dangerous people around here. It’s not somewhere a woman should be walking alone.”

“Goodness, are you worried about me?”

“I might be one of those dangerous people.”

“You’re not. I know that uniform—you’re one of the castle’s knights, aren’t you? You wouldn’t do anything wrong.”

This last line took a turn as Theresia pointed to the emblem on his chest and smiled. Wilhelm smiled grimly at the words, then stepped up next to her. She was wearing the same clothes she had been that afternoon, and she was sitting in the same spot. So he assumed—

“You’ve been here all day?”

“…Yes. I guess I did hang around for a while.” She stuck out her tongue as if to suggest this was something unusual, but Wilhelm suspected it probably wasn’t.

Wilhelm had never tried to check on what Theresia did after they parted ways, but now he was sure she always sat here until it got dark.

“I’m not trying to be cute when I say that this really isn’t somewhere a woman should be walking around on her own at this time of night.”

“Thank you for worrying about me. But I really think it’s a little late for that. And anyway, I won’t be walking around alone, so it’s fine. Someone is coming to get me.”

“—”

“Don’t worry, it’s a girl.”

“…I wasn’t worrying about that.”

It was just his imagination that he was relieved to hear it. And anyway, having another woman around wouldn’t make things any safer.

“It’s okay. She’s a very strong swordswoman. Much stronger than me.”

“Stronger than you? I think that would describe most swordspeople.”

This girl didn’t know the first thing about the fighting arts. She didn’t make much of a comparison for anything. Still, though, it had been close to a year since Wilhelm and Theresia met. If this person had been acting as her bodyguard that entire time, maybe she had proven herself.

If Theresia had a bodyguard, did that mean she actually had a certain status in the world?

“So you don’t go home. Is it because you don’t want to be at your house?”

“Y-you certainly don’t pull your punches, do you, Wilhelm?”

“It’s a bad habit. My work has taught me never to hold back. So what’s your answer?”

“…You could say yes, but…you could also say no. I’m sorry, I know that’s complicated.” Theresia’s eyes seemed to gaze into the distance as she apologized. The feelings swirling in her eyes, how fragile she looked—Wilhelm cursed himself for his insensitivity. No young woman would spend the night wandering aimlessly around town instead of at home without a reason.

“What about you, Wilhelm?” It took him a moment to catch up with her question. Theresia was sitting on the step by the flower bed, hugging her knees and looking up at him. “Can I…ask about your home…? Your family?”

“My…family…”

“Right. I mean…I know maybe it’s none of my business…” She smiled shyly. Normally, he might have been able to shoot something back at her. But at this moment, being asked about his family brought Wilhelm up short. After all, at that very moment his home, the House of Trias, might be in danger.

“…Did I say something wrong?” Theresia’s expression clouded at his silence.

He cursed himself again for being immature. To tell Theresia about what was going on would only place an unnecessary burden on her. So why couldn’t he summon up his usual indifferent look? He looked painfully at the ground.

Then Theresia stood in front of him and reached out her hands to Wilhelm.

“Stiffen that upper lip! Are you a man or aren’t you?”

“—?!”

She gave him a hearty smack on both cheeks. Completely surprised, Wilhelm looked at her with wide eyes. Theresia put her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest.

“Whatever your relationship is to your family, it’s obviously complicated, but it’s not like you to let that make you all weepy. Do what you always do—you know, act haughty for no reason. You should swing your sword like a child, full of unfounded confidence. That’s much better.”

“—”

Her criticism was brutal. It stunned Wilhelm to realize that was how she thought of him.

Perhaps his silence made Theresia realize how sharp her words had been, for she quickly said, “Wait, that’s not— Hrm.”

Wilhelm’s shoulders relaxed at this change in her. He exhaled, then smiled at her. Not one of his grimaces, but a smile from the heart.

“You really are a strange girl, aren’t you?”

“H-huh? What makes you say that? I know I’m not quite normal, but I thought I said something pretty on the nose there.” She sounded annoyed.

“Don’t praise yourself. But…you’re not wrong.” He exhaled deeply again. It wasn’t a sigh of longing, but a way of expelling all his emotions. “Swinging my sword like a child, huh…?”

A child with a sword would be a very dangerous thing. The image made him smile. But again, she wasn’t wrong. Wilhelm was a child playing with a sword. He had remained a child even as time passed, as he grew up. He had just forgotten it somewhere along the line.

But now he remembered why he had taken up the sword, despite his immaturity.

“Let me walk you to the entrance of the poor district. Wait for your friend where there’s some light.”

“…Aren’t you afraid she might miss me if I’m not in our usual spot?”

“Are you saying I should leave you here in the dark? Don’t make me.”

“That’s true enough. I guess we don’t have a choice, then. I’ll let you help a young woman to her feet.” Theresia sounded so confident as she held out her hand. Wilhelm took it and helped her up, and somehow the two of them never quite let go of each other’s hands as they walked toward the entrance to the slum. In the heat from their intertwined fingers, Wilhelm could feel his own pulse.

They had threaded their way through several narrow streets when Theresia stopped on a side street near the main road. “I’ll wait here,” she said. “I think she’ll be able to find me.” Truthfully, Wilhelm wanted to see her all the way to the main street, but chances were she didn’t want him and her bodyguard to meet.

“So now it’s a girl by herself in a dark alleyway? You know, come to think of it, they do call prostitutes ‘flower girls’ around here…”

“Nobody’s going to mistake me for one of those… Wait a second, surely that’s not why you started calling me that?”

“No. It was because your head was full of flowers.”

“Well, that’s not very nice, either!” She turned red and batted him on the shoulder. Wilhelm let go of her hand and took a step away from her. His fingers still tingled with the sensation of her—but he set aside this moment of frailty and looked at her. Then, touching the emblem on his chest, he said good night.

“Be careful on these dark roads, Flower Girl.”

“Be careful not to shirk your duty too much, good-for-nothing soldier.”

These seemingly cruel words quickly gave way to smiles. Then he said, “Bye, Theresia.”

“See you next time, Wilhelm.”

This was how they always parted now. Wilhelm turned away from her and headed for the main road, feeling her eyes on his back. It was only after he was sure he could no longer sense her watching that he reached to his left breast and tore off the emblem.

It was the sign that he was a knight, that the world had recognized him, that he could hold his head up when he met Theresia. Now, the nexus of all that meaning glimmered dully in his palm.

It was not brighter nor more beautiful than the sunlight glinting off his sword in the days of his youth.

“That giant, raging idiot!”

It was the next day, and Bordeaux was shouting his lungs out in Wilhelm’s personal quarters. He vented his frustration on a desk, which broke in half, and a variety of awards lay scattered around the room. This was not exactly behavior becoming of a commanding officer, yet it was not enough to placate Bordeaux’s anger.

“—”

Beside the enraged officer, Grimm silently set a hand on the devastated desk. From inside what was left of it, he picked up an emblem—the dragon crest of a knight. The disk also contained a note, on which was written just one word.

Sorry.

It was simple, unadorned—very much the sort of thing the rather boorish Sword Devil would come up with. Wilhelm Trias had removed the badge of his station and left the capital with only his sword in hand.

It may not have seemed very cultivated. But as the Sword Devil, it was his answer.

6

It had been no small choice for Wilhelm to abandon the sign of his knighthood. The emblem was the proof of acknowledgment by something as big and important as the kingdom itself. Once, he had been considered no more than a delinquent child, but the badge showed that he had been right all along.

From the day he had knocked on the door of the royal army until this moment, he had been focused single-mindedly on the sword. All that time, he had believed it was all he needed, yet he had been given so many things. There had been enemies. Allies. Rivals, comrades, superiors. Those against whom he swore revenge. And…

“Theresia…”

He whispered the name of the girl whom he now knew he cared deeply about. He put a hand on his sword as if to be sure it was still there.

To abandon his emblem was to leave behind everything he had gained in the capital. It wasn’t that he believed they were without value. Rather, precisely because he knew they were valuable, he couldn’t act freely if he continued carrying them. He had let go of them because they were priceless.

He did look back on them wistfully. He did feel guilt, regret, and anger. His emotions were like a muddy swamp. He had never managed a completely simple way of living. The days when he had merely wanted to be a sword felt as if they had never existed. And yet, neither did he hold that time against himself now.

“—”

He knew that even if he managed to deal with everything that was going on, he wouldn’t simply be able to go back to the way things had been. His days had merely been so calm and complacent as to allow him to entertain such fantasies recently.

Like the one in which he extinguished the flames of war that raged around his homeland, was forgiven for throwing aside the honor of a knight, and then took Theresia’s hand and brought her home to meet the Trias family. Just a fantasy.

Such thoughts had closed his eyes to reality, but the conflagration he found on returning home opened them with brutal force.

“Hrrraaahhhhh!!”

So the Sword Devil took his beloved sword in hand and, arriving at a home he found utterly changed, began his one-man war.

7

“What do you know about my feelings, Brother?!”

It was five years ago now that, after another one of their fights, Wilhelm had fled his home.

The House of Trias was a diminished noble family with a small territory in the northern part of the kingdom of Lugunica. Their former fame for feats of arms had already waned when Wilhelm arrived as the family’s third son.

The two boys who preceded him were more than qualified to inherit the family headship, and Wilhelm spent his youth essentially unfettered by the demands of being part of the succession. There was one thing that caught the eye of this boy as he spent his days unconcerned with the running of the household: an heirloom sword hanging in the house’s great hall. It was the one reminder of the days when the House of Trias had earned renown as disciples of the martial arts.

Wilhelm found himself drawn to swords, spending his days engaged in practice from morning till night. At first, his family had looked on in amusement, but after six years they were no longer smiling. The eldest son of the family began to take little swipes at his sword-crazed younger brother under the guise of friendly advice. Wilhelm’s reaction to this quibbling led to a white-hot fight, and the younger boy’s running away from home was in effect the final word.

He fled to the capital, where he joined the royal army and, eventually, became the Sword Devil.

These were his pitiful beginnings, which he was resolved not to reveal to Theresia or anyone.

The Trias lands he remembered were already wreathed in flames from a major demi-human attack. The vistas he thought he knew had been dyed red, and the mansion where he had lived until almost his teenage years had been burned to the ground. Perhaps the household had been totally unable to resist the attackers, because all that was left were signs of trampling here and there.

Of course. It only made sense. His brothers had been so soft and his family so complacent that the thought of resisting would not even have crossed their minds. His family had been bent on protecting themselves in any way other than combat. That was what had first drawn him to the blade. He would make up for what his brothers lacked.

And now, he should have had enough power to do so.

“Ruuahhhhh!”

His sword became like a whirlwind, and a mist of demi-human blood stained the Trias lands even redder. The demi-humans had successfully overpowered one meek human tribe, but now the Sword Devil slammed into their flank. The heads that looked up in surprise he sent flying; where hands and feet sought to oppose him he cut them off; cries of mockery and hatred could not be raised when he had pierced their throats.

He was covered in the blood of his enemies, his voice raw from shouting. He flashed his sword what seemed like a million times, and then a million more.

“It’s the Sword Devil! The Sword Devil, the killer of Valga and Libre!”

As they realized who the rampaging human was, his foes began to press in upon him. They filled his vision to the right and left, breaking upon him like a wave along with their hatred. Still, he flew straight at them.

It was only at the start of the battle that things went well for him. The demi-humans had been caught off guard by the Sword Devil’s appearance, but as they realized that Wilhelm was their only opponent, they began to let their numbers do the work.

It was many against one, and he was soon wounded. He might take ten lives with ten strokes of his sword, but the enemy would come back with a hundred blows from a hundred lives at once. It was naturally overwhelming, and Wilhelm, alone and without support, was pressed harder and harder.

“—”

He was surrounded by enemies. Right and left, behind and before, and all of them were focused only on killing him. He had no hulking ally to help him break through their ranks, no silent shield bearer to guard his back—no friends at all to form a battle line with him.

He was alone. He knew there had been a time when he had believed he could get by this way. But even then, he hadn’t really been by himself. He could see that now, when it was too late.

“Grrahh!”

He took a wound to his back. He spun around and pierced his ambusher through the heart. As he did, more attackers closed in. He tried to jump out of reach, but his feet got tangled. He blocked from an unnatural position, feeling the impact in every bone in his body. He gritted his teeth; with a succession of silver flashes, the group of demi-humans went flying.

But his inelegant advance stopped there. The blood spatters covering him were not only from his opponents. The bleeding from his own wounds was too much. He fell to his knees, then collapsed where he was.

“H— Hhh— Hhhhhh!”

His breath was harsh and his fighting spirit was relentless, but his limbs no longer responded to his commands to do combat. There, among the piles of dead enemies, Wilhelm’s beloved sword slipped from his hand. To let go of one’s weapon while still on the battlefield was a pitiful thing. For the Sword Devil to drop his sword meant he was no longer even a demon, but just a man—no, something less than that. A shell.

Perhaps it was only fitting that a man should meet his end as an empty husk, having forgotten even the first wish that led to his being called Sword Devil and simply run ahead. In the end, why had he taken up the sword? What had he been able to leave to the world?

Nothing. Only a body, hollow and empty, a bit of airy nothing.

Could it really have been nothing…?

A massive demi-human stood beside him, looming over Wilhelm where he lingered between life and death.

“You were a fearsome opponent, Sword Devil,” he said. “But your life ends here!” He raised his sword high, preparing to strike off Wilhelm’s head.

The sight of his impending death stirred something in Wilhelm.

“—”

Countless shadows flitted through his mind—all the people he had encountered in his life. He saw his parents, his brothers, the people of the Trias lands, the other members of the royal army, Grimm, Bordeaux, Roswaal, Carol—and finally, Theresia, smiling, the field of flowers at her back.

Her face, her voice as she said “See you next time” were seared into his memory—into his very soul.

She had brought light into days when he had thought there was nothing, and in his mind’s eye, her light mingled with the gleaming of the sword from his youth. He had believed he wanted to be a sword, but the many encounters he’d had and the interlocking bonds he shared with people were like heat and pressure to form him into a person.

He reminisced with fondness on both the days when he was steel and those when he was human. He still had so many memories of them.

“I don’t want…to die…”

And so at this, his last moment, the desire to live was what slipped from Wilhelm’s lips. He had taken so many lives, affected such nonchalance at the thought of death, yet when the end finally confronted him, his heart quaked with fear. He began to see the joy of being alive, his heart breaking with the terror that that joy was about to be stolen from him.

“—”

Surely that one desperate whisper would not be enough to buy clemency from the demi-human after he had killed so many of his companions.

The ruthless blade fell, speeding the Sword Devil toward the end of his life…

The stroke of the sword at that moment had a beauty that could last into eternity.

The head of the giant demi-human about to end Wilhelm’s life went flying into the air.

The weapon that struck him was so sharp that the demi-human himself didn’t realize what had happened. When his head landed on the ground, it showed no recognition of his own death.

Wilhelm was agog at what was going on above him. He was the one who was supposed to be facing his demise.

Then there was the rushing breath of a passing blade, a storm of silver streaks, and one demi-human after another was struck down. The shock of this fresh attack spread through the Demi-human Alliance. But it was scant trouble for the newcomer. No sooner had each enemy recognized the opponent’s presence than they lay dead on the ground; in other words, it was the demi-humans’ own deaths that alerted them to this new force.

“—”

This “someone” all but literally danced among the demi-humans, dispensing blow after blow and amassing piles of corpses. The strikes were so true and so sharp that Wilhelm thought perhaps some god of death was walking among them. A beautiful and kind reaper who took people’s lives without letting them suffer the knowledge that they were dead.

This god of death had red hair that bobbed in a tail at the back of its head and wielded a flashing blade as if it were an extra limb.

“Red…hair…”

The reaper cut down all those around Wilhelm as if to protect him. Each time he saw this god of death land a strike, each time this person entered his vision, he felt a fresh tumult in his heart. For standing there was…

“Wilhelm! You great, dunderheaded idiot! We found you!”

He heard the bellowing voice at the same moment he felt someone violently grab him by the shoulders. Before his astonished eyes appeared Bordeaux and Grimm, and he could see the whole of Zergev Squadron with them, covered with gruesome spatters of blood.

“So even you can find yourself at death’s door, eh? That’s good medicine! You stupid, stupid, stupid idiot!”

“—!”

Wilhelm couldn’t speak as Bordeaux berated him; even Grimm’s mouth opened as if he wanted to say something. But none of them would actually be that hard on Wilhelm, whose body was covered in cuts, bruises, and wounds. Instead, Bordeaux made sure he had a good grip on the battered young man, then ordered the rest of the squadron to secure a way for them to retreat.

“S-stop,” Wilhelm grunted. “Now’s…not the time! I can’t—! I can’t rest now—!”

He shoved away the hand that held him and tried to drag himself toward the sword fighting ahead of him. But just before he reached it, he halted, grinding his teeth in frustration. He had enough self-awareness, enough pride as a swordsman, to stop himself there.

“—”

The flashing silver, the beautiful strokes of the blade, the utterly perfect attacks—these were the work of a god of death. Wilhelm had lived his life with the sword, given much to it, and he could tell.

Even if I work the rest of my life, I’ll never reach that place. Only the one who deserves it can make it.

It was the summit, the place allowed only to the truly beloved of the sword and who had mastered this weapon of steel.

“Yaaaahh!”

This time, when Grimm lifted Wilhelm up, he didn’t resist. He no longer had the strength. His endurance was at an end, and he felt he might faint away at any moment. And yet as long as he could, as long as he was allowed, as long as his heart could endure, he wanted to see this dance of the sword.

“Lady…!”

Now he found Carol was there, too, watching the god of death at work. She had a hand to her chest, almost as if she were anxious for that reaper, despite this display of unmatchable strength.

He stared stupidly. What was Carol seeing? How could she possibly watch this and look…worried?

Does she not understand how profound her skill with a blade is? Is she not enough of a swordswoman to know?

The technique he was seeing was so elevated that every swipe of steel made him despair for his own status as a swordsman.

“That… That god of death…”

“God of death? Don’t be silly. That’s the kingdom’s ace in the hole—the true sword of the kingdom who puts us to shame. The Sword Saint.”

The battlefield seemed far away now. His consciousness flickered. He caught just those two words as it faded away.

Sword Saint. The name given to living legends, carved into the history of the Kingdom of Lugunica.

But how could it be that she was the one to bear it…?

“—”

He had no way of asking her now. He couldn’t even call out to her.

8

The battle for the Trias lands would loom large in the history of Lugunica. It was not that there was any special value to the territory in which the battle took place. The carnage wrought on the Trias lands was just another one of the tragedies that occurred throughout the Demi-human War. It differed from all the others in just one way: It would go down as the first stunning excursion of the era’s Sword Saint.

Until that moment in the Trias lands, the Sword Saint of that generation had not once shown her abilities publicly. Some even doubted her existence or even the existence of the Sword Saint’s blessing itself. But this battle abundantly proved the saint’s true strength.

In her first battle, she single-handedly took the lives of nearly a thousand demi-humans, a feat that would have been impossible for anyone else. The event marked the appearance of a savior who could bring an end to the Demi-human War, which had become a confused morass. Everyone hailed her as such, and all praised the name of the Sword Saint.

As for the Sword Devil, who had abandoned his status as a knight and become an ordinary swordsman once more in order to protect the Trias lands, who had cut down three hundred demi-humans alone—his name was quietly forgotten.

The Sword Devil himself, however, couldn’t have cared less. He had never cared much for records or awards. And any reason he might have had to be interested in them he had surely relinquished by then. What was important to Wilhelm Trias was in that field of flowers by that square.

It was weeks before his wounds had healed enough that he could go back to the plaza. He had been in one brutal battle after another, but now he walked down the familiar path with his battered but still beloved sword in his hand. Every time he walked this street, Wilhelm always felt a mix of emotions.

There was happiness and eagerness, depression and anxiety, frustration and even envy. But what he felt right now was not any of these. It was the sure intuition that she would be there. Wilhelm trusted his hunches. Especially when it came to whether or not she would be waiting to meet him in the square.

There was no need to put into words at this point what it was that made this intuition so certain.

“—”

When he reached the plaza, he sucked in his breath. He didn’t have to look for her. Her presence was overwhelming. She was sitting on the steps right where she always was, her eyes playing over the flowers, which had now started to wither.

He didn’t do anything as foolish as walking toward her. Instead he ran, drawing his sword soundlessly as he went. He brought the blade down with fearsome speed, striking like a thunderbolt to cleave her head in two…

“That’s humiliating.”

“…Oh?”

His earnest admission was met by only the briefest of replies. He had attacked with all his might, and she had simply caught the blade between two fingers. Without even turning around, she negated all the months and years he had spent honing his sword technique.

“Were you laughing at me?”

“—”

She didn’t respond. The silence hurt Wilhelm more than anything else.

Even now, nothing about her willowy body suggested she was an exponent of the martial arts.

“Answer me, Theresia… Or should I say, Sword Saint Theresia van Astrea…!”

He wrenched his sword back from her with sheer force, then struck again. She dodged him without so much as a hair falling out of place. He found himself distracted by the sight of her flowing red locks, and before he knew it, his feet had been swept out from under him to send him toppling to the ground. Wilhelm, once feared as the Sword Devil, hit the pavement without even managing to catch himself.

“—”

He had met this girl so many times, bantered with her, grown closer to her without anybody knowing—and now she had knocked him down. Theresia looked at him where he lay. Her eyes were a piercing blue reflection of a sky that had never known clouds.

“Y-yaaaahhh!”

Wilhelm scrambled to his feet for another attack as if chasing after her retreating form. His strike was so strong and so true that one would never have believed it came from a convalescent. His battle aura was even stronger than it had been when he had earned the name of Sword Devil, when he had felled Valga and gone toe-to-toe with Libre.

His sword technique was so polished and pure that it seemed he had thrown away everything else he had once been. In this place, the secret plaza that only they knew, the Sword Devil brought to bear every ounce of his skill.

It was, without a doubt, the greatest and ultimate demonstration of Wilhelm’s life as a swordsman.

“—”

And Theresia, without so much as a sword in her hand, avoided it as if Wilhelm were merely a little boy.

A light, dancing step revealed the size of the gulf between them. An impassable wall, an unbridgeable gap, an uncrossable chasm. They were utterly remote from one another. The divide was all too clear to both of them.

Theresia looked down at Wilhelm, who lay on the ground.

“I won’t come here again,” she said, her quiet good-bye.

She was holding Wilhelm’s sword in her hand. When had she gotten it? The Sword Saint had stolen the Sword Devil’s weapon, and he had been ignominiously sent to the ground not by the blade, but by a blow from the hilt.

She was so far ahead, and he was so weak. He would never reach her. He wasn’t enough.

That was why she was looking at him that way.

“You shouldn’t…be using a sword…with that expression,” he said.

There was a limit to shamelessness. Whose fault was it? Whose powerlessness had led her to this? If he were stronger, if he had had an exceptional talent for the sword, she wouldn’t have looked like this now.

“I’m the Sword Saint,” she said. “I never knew why before. But now I do.”

It was at once an answer and not an answer. It was Theresia’s obscure signal that she wanted something from Wilhelm. When she really wanted him to listen, she never said so directly. She could be difficult that way.

“What you mean, why?!”

“Wielding the sword to protect someone. I think that’s a good reason.”

The exchange was like what they had once said every time they met, though there was no longer any need for those questions and answers.

The Sword Saint had preferred her flowers, unable to see the meaning in using the sword. Wilhelm’s sin had been to give Theresia van Astrea a reason to wield her blade. He had given a reason to the woman who was stronger than any other, could take the sword further than anyone else.

“Wait…Theresia…”

She was already leaving; she felt there were no more words to speak.

Wilhelm couldn’t move his limbs. He could hardly raise his head. Yet, driven by his frustration at Theresia and his anger at himself, Wilhelm managed to look up, his own blue eyes focused firmly on her back, since she refused to turn around.

“—”

She didn’t stop walking, and retreated farther and farther. Soon his voice would not be able to reach her anymore. He had to speak before that happened.

“I’ll steal that sword from you. What do I care about your blessing or your station…? Don’t make light of wielding it…of the beauty of a steel blade, Sword Saint!”

She kept growing more distant, until he could no longer see her. Had his last words reached her? They must have. He must have made them reach her.

To speak of the beauty of steel to the one who was beloved of the sword-god was the Sword Devil’s pathetic challenge to battle.

The two of them never met in that place again.

After that day Wilhelm Trias, the Sword Devil, was not to be seen in the royal army. Instead, the name of Theresia van Astrea appeared. She began single-handedly turning the tide of what had seemed to be an endless war.

Through sheer strength, she began to overwhelm the flames of Valga Cromwell’s hatred and the unending battle. This was one way of rising to the old stories of heroism.

The name of the Sword Saint resounded throughout the land, bringing hope to the humans and despair to the demi-humans.

And so time went on, and as the flames of war began to wink out, so, too, the tale draws to its end.

But the love song of the Sword Devil yet speaks of the end of the Demi-human War, and the final meeting of the Sword Devil and the Sword Saint.