Chapter 14.2: My only wish

[Darwen’s Pov]

[“I had loved you, Darwen. I had always been loving you.”]

“Violet, no!” I scream as the words break through the dreams and even to the real world. I fall down the bed in the barn awaiting another day. Quite a nightmarish cycle that I have been through these past few months.

“Tickling myself wrong, wasn’t I? Just another dream, Darwen. I won’t happen.” The encouraging line I recite to myself numerous times, after his holiness my master descend down here. This must have an end right?

And Master said that even clairvoyance has its flaws so what would those dreams make that is the reality I have to live with. Calming my nerves with the cold water in the morning would make it better.

After battle drawing near and the things needed to prepare, that woman has almost always been at the castle. Well, I worry about her well-being but judging by the conversation alone, her demeanor has died down from the prideful self she was, she is afraid.

“I need to clear my mind on those useless thoughts.” I put on clothing and go to the training field, it’s sunny outside. Stuffing into the lapsing suit of armor, when did they become so light? It must have been my training paid off.

“On your feet, squires. I expect no less of you as the war awaits for no weakness in the kingdom army.” I shout in commands as they resume their own training under my watchful eyes. No one would be lacking that I am here.

Running laps and training their stamina, these squire are in hopes of becoming knights, well that would be a long dream of those who are green and naïve like them. Their muscle is weak and their memory is still fragile, if something like sire would show up I bet they would be the earliest to succumb.

“Knights! Preparing your mind and harden your steel. You shall begin sparing today, your opponent today is among yourself.” I order them, well their honor and flattery have concluded quite a while now. After directly hearing from the commander, they must have been scared of their mind.

Playing it safe, Darwen…you are not one to rally up the morale today. If I am anything good, it would be fighting directly head-on without much of a care for consequences.

Lifting the axe and training is the only principle I know in life: What you have fought for is the only thing you can truly have. No one could turn back time or take away the sweat that you have fought for, every last bit of it.

“Even the steel dummy isn’t enough for your dull brass, Gaucher. Pushed every last path aren’t you?” The annoying brat of my junior, Pierre Rigolitaire. Well, I did say to speak comfortably while being alone like this but the comment is too far-fetched, isn’t it?

“Sound like you are just mocking work, Pierre. Know that if the dragon is closer than necessary your troop will also be in danger.” Giving a friend warning I ignore the little brat that is going aloof, there.

“It would be fine, Gaucher. You know me from the start, I won’t any underprepared for anything.” The tone comes out whimsical almost a joke, it has always been irritating planning something with this aloof fool who once was my squire.

That wouldn’t be right, at all his training effort isn’t unseen by all. I know Pierre worked all the way to this fullest as the last to stay and was the most enthusiastic even at the simplest scout mission. However, I think the whole façade of friendly is just something to mask the opponent.

“It would be good, you know Rigolitaire? It has been a while since the last time that we sparred. Now is the perfect time to test your might.” A challenge is enough to spark the serious out of the young fool.

“Great, I have itchy for these days. With the striction on hunts and the worst of all these continuous training for stamina. I promise I won’t hurt your old bone too much, Darwen.” The youngling says with confidence, his eyes growing the same bloodthirst of Master before…it’s eerie how a human recreates the same bloodlust.

Since it is just a spar, I needn’t use the method that Master has taught me for strengthening magic. I know I am going to regret later how much of a bloody pump that I will be, but it is only fair since the youngling wouldn’t use mana in spar like this.

Stolen story; please report.

Picking the axe of before, Pierre chose the lance. It isn’t something strange of the same usage since the lance is more versatile than the axe. That is only limited to those weakling through! Our duel has no place so phony weapons either, it either ends in blood or exhaustion.

“Make your first move.” I sound like the beginning of the spar.

Using a lance as the jumping pole, gaining something from my behind is a foolish thought. Aiming directly at the lance…no retort as a direct thrust from above, driving me to a parry flurry.

I take another axe from his back, using it not only for deflecting but to cause distraction from what is actually attacking him. Throwing in a curved path, it will come directly at his retort.

As he dashes back against my flurry…

Now!

The returning axe and my advancing creating the pinch again Pierre, no kind of lance would be able to block such a thing without damage. Either your weapon or your body, Pierre. Choose wisely.

…

What a maddening lad, he chose to take the axe directly and bounce back from my advancing. The bleeding rib looks quite damaging, but the spar hasn’t ended yet, hasn’t it?

Thousand of thrusts returning when I am catching my breath, I can’t deflect all of them so the armor gives out as my body is also becoming a bloody mess with scratches and torn. While my hands still holding strong on the axe clutch, his lance gave out from the tight and forceful thrust.

Time to end this battle, I charge forward with both of my axes. Aiming straight at the lance Pierre is holding. Swoosh, clank, swoosh, clank,…the lance throw out of Pierre’s hand in his exhaustion.

Stepping on the loser as the axe holds close to his neck, the youngling throws his hands in the air to admit his defeat.

“How are you so old and you are still so monstrous, Gaucher? At the end age of 47, someone like you would have retired to be the instructor or something.” Pierre groans and struggles to get up from the ground.

“I work almost all day, youngling. The muscle hasn’t given out and my hands still hold tight to the axe, the king doesn’t choose his sword to be something easily rusted by time, would he?” Laughing, I pull the youngling up to pack to the castle’s healer.

“Why are you working so hard? You have gained it all honor, wealth, and even a great spouse. Why are pushing yourself so hard every day?” Pierre says bitterly, well looks like the world is going turn upside down today as the brat really learns something of maturity.

“Look, Pierre. Men like us weren’t born for those boring welfare that are just hiding behind the room of strategists and watching our men bleed on the battlefield.” I teach him about the lesson that my old mentor has always said in those days as a mercenary.

“When choosing this life, your death won’t be on the bed of rose or a mountain of gold. You will die on the battlefield, in the carnage that is created by your own merit, the very end whose corpse shall not be in full pieces that are plunged in the fire evermore.” Just like he was…my mentor passed the rite of burning whose corpse was on the fiery boat in the meeting of those who were grateful for his service.

“That was pretty…morbid. You seriously think that his majesty would do that to his most trusted allies?” His whine snaps me out of that mindset. He is right, I am no longer a mercenary anymore. It would be idiotic of me that Marvos would send me to die when I am no longer useful. Or at least it would be scornful of a king that malevolence to do.

“You’re right, I am not straight in the mind to seek that end, but it may as well happen you know,” I reassure the youngling while the healers continue to berate me for taking it too far with all my might. It isn’t like this the first time I have been here.

“Sir Gaucher, can you look out for the other as well? I know are still in your prime of the age but still think of the poor ones that were smashed mercilessly by you.” They continue on and on with those sayings, it isn’t like they are bored of their mind when nothing has happened. I am only bringing jobs for you bored healers.

“Fine, fine. I will be more careful next time.” The excuses before I can cast my stitches out of the healer’s room. Pieere stayed longer since the youngling was…damaged in a particular way that can’t be healed quickly. Just say that I broke several bones and caused severe bleeding in and outside.

A quick break with some chewing some wheat isn’t that big of a deal, would it? After all, it would be something enough for the stomach. Not for long though as I saw someone was kicked out of his own office, none other than Marvos.

“Finally leaving your dearest nest, are you, your majesty? Really you look crappy even with the whole younger thing.” I tease as a greeting, though I can’t think of something else besides that he was stressing his mind out at this point since master said “The things are dedicated to interfering”. Tch, like the other, isn’t Master? At least Master still abides by the contract with the whole strategy and things.

“Ah, Darwen. I...uh well.” Marvos seems like he isolates himself to loses the ability to talk normally besides the whole deal and things. Poor thing, well I know what will ease the whole thing altogether.

“Just come with me to the night market, it’s dusk so it has already set up a few. Don’t bother changing away, your beggar-like face won’t make anyone believe you are the king, Marvos.” I tease while dragging him.

“Beggar-like…hey, that is mean. But alright, since lord Mikhail has given me his forced break.” Marvos says with a pout Hmph, really look like some moody young girls now.

Into the dusk sky…It would be two birds with one stone, as long as I can get rid of this awful feeling in my chest as well.

The end