Episode 15 – The Knight and the Little Brother (8)

The Knight and the Little Brother (8)

My nose tingles sharply. The unusual scent of medicinal herbs is likely a factor, but it’s not the only reason right now.
My muscles are undergoing minute contractions and relaxations throughout my body. The hand holding the letter trembles as if afflicted by tremors. Whether it’s because I’m sitting in the damp bathroom or not, the effect of the current is undeniable.

If there’s a silver lining, it’s that at least Lumen isn’t intentionally emitting electricity.

On the negative side, it could be considered involuntary manslaughter.

“Do you really need to hear this?”

Lumen’s voice was shaking. I wasn’t looking at her face, but I could roughly guess her expression. I brushed off the leaking sparks and replied as I stroked my face.

“It would be better for you to tell me everything in detail. It’s important for opening the letter and for unburdening your heart. You have nothing to hide, right? You even cut off your arm for your brother. Oh, but it was your brother’s arm.”

She walked over slowly and sat down. Separated by just the wall of the bathtub, her damp hair soaked my clothes. Now, I couldn’t even imagine her expression.

Despite the desire to turn around, I kept my mouth shut and waited for Lumen’s story.

“It was winter. The first time I met Troka.”

* * *

It was a day like any other, not a single cloud in the clear sky.

She swung her meaningless sword, cutting down enemies. Those who somehow survived were incinerated by lightning, reduced to ash. That day was no different.

Until the stranger came.

She struck the scarecrow with her sword. Whoosh, the scarecrow flew into the sky and buried itself in the snow. There was no emotion in her sword. Even though it had been honed for her brother, it ultimately failed to protect him. Perhaps that was only natural.

She didn’t remember whether it was evening or daytime when Troka arrived. Sunsets in Frontis were rare. All she remembered was his face, walking towards her with the light at his back.

“Hello? My name is Kim Ji-hoon… no, I mean Troka.”

Their first meeting.

If Troka had met someone other than her that day.
If only he had met the Fist King, known as the hero’s mentor, first.

“I still can’t quite believe it, but I’m the hero from another world. But I’m still overwhelmed by demons and the like, let alone the Demon King.”

If he had lacked confidence from the start. What end would Troka have met?

“Um… if it’s not too much trouble, could I get some advice on swordsmanship? You handle your sword like a master.”

Seeing that man for the first time, she was reminded of her younger brother, whom she had tried so hard to forget. Unable to forget him, his image waving from the recesses of her memory, she opened her mouth and spoke.

“…Your name?”

“Troka.”

“I’m not good at teaching. The only advice I can give is how to swing the sword, just the method.”

“Haha, that’s fine. I’m actually quite persistent, so I’ll work hard at whatever it is.”

Striving to conceal her startled heart, Lumen gazed at Troka, suddenly scrutinizing his face. She sensed a dissonance in his expression, but it quickly dissipated, overtaken by the strong resolve to protect her brother this time.

“This time, I can protect him.”

Her perturbation was short-lived. She had grasped an opportunity to rectify the unaccomplished deeds and misaligned past. In that moment, Lumen’s eyes swirled with an indescribable energy.

“This time, I won’t let you die.”

Without fully understanding what it meant to fix a shattered heart, she found herself with another brother.

And time flowed on.

Troka had a talent for swordsmanship, which was an understatement. His first swing was frankly terrible, falling far below average in stance, capability, and strength. He had come from a world where not even a rabbit would be killed, and his excuses, which were not really excuses, made her unable to suppress her laughter.
Was it because he reminded her of her younger brother who detested hunting when he was young? Or was it the astonishment that there existed a world without the need to wield a sword? She could no longer remember.

Then one day, Troka brought a strange weapon. Perhaps that day was a turning point, or maybe it was the destiny set by the gods from that moment.

A sword with only a hilt. Troka, holding that bizarre weapon, had changed, making the past week seem irrelevant.

He, who had struggled even to cut down a straw mannequin.

In one move, he had pushed Lumen back.
In two, he had won the contest of strength.
In three, he had knocked her sword away.

Eventually, Lumen unleashed the power of lightning.
She opened her senses to detect the surrounding electric charge, to sense danger and predict attacks.

The colorless lightning dominated the surroundings. Troka ended up smashed against a sandbag far away.

“Phew, you’re still strong, sister. With this level, you could even take down a dragon, couldn’t you?”

But the gap was not as overwhelming as it had been at the beginning of their spar. Lumen, who prided herself on being quite strong, could not hide her surprise that Troka had become her equal in strength in just a week.

“You should be able to defeat most demons now.”

Still, she felt good about it. Unlike her powerless brother who had died, Troka seemed like he would survive.
At least, with the power of a hero, he wouldn’t die in vain.

From then on, the training intensified.

As the training continued, Troka’s complexion grew increasingly grim. However, Lumen did not reduce the intensity of the training. Perhaps it was because she knew better than anyone that a moment’s carelessness could cost a life, she believed that proper training was essential.

Troka was, of course, overwhelmed by the insane amount of training. To maintain strength beyond one’s limits and to undergo such brutal training with a modern human body was akin to a suicide mission.

Because Troka always approached with a smile, she failed to realize that he was suffering from hemoptysis every night. That’s why she was thrown into a state of panic when she discovered the signs.

She wanted to confront Troka immediately, but he was nowhere to be found. Even after thoroughly searching the base, he didn’t show up until the evening near the training grounds.

There he was, packing his bags with a smile and waving goodbye. Seeing Troka like this, Lumen couldn’t bring herself to speak of the hemoptysis, her confusion apparent.

“Where are you going now…?”

“I’m setting out to broaden my horizons. I’ve heard that monsters are rampant in the great plains to the east of the continent. I plan to go there and, incidentally, gather information about an otherworlder who seems to have joined the demon army.”

Troka couldn’t bear to worry Lumen, so he decided to distance himself from her for a while.
He was determined to keep his distance, fearing that Lumen, who had discovered his hemoptysis, might suffer.

“Thank you for everything. After defeating the Demon King, I’ll be the first to return, so don’t worry, sister.”

“Oh… no.”

Troka’s words never reached her. The desperate feeling of not wanting to lose something again. A paralyzing sensation overtook her body.

‘She must save him.’

The black sword of the Blood Tribe that killed her brother came flying from the right. It pierced through the shoulder blade and wedged between the ribs, penetrating the heart. With a small gurgling sound, her brother died.

This time, it couldn’t happen again. Her brother’s face overlaid Troka’s.
At that moment, lightning flickered. Something shot up into the sky. It spun in an arc through the falling snow, slicing through the wind before crashing to the ground.
Thud, crack. And then, pop, red liquid burst onto the snow.

“If you go……, you can’t, no.”

“…Ah.”

Action was quicker than thought.
The body that remembered the moment of her brother’s death moved faster than anything else.

It was a situation that could have been resolved through conversation. But she couldn’t do it. She didn’t have the strength to look at his face.

Troka must have wanted to say something. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to speak. But in the end, he staggered away in silence, his back turned, blood trailing behind him. If she had held onto Troka and apologized, or at least explained her trauma, would anything have changed?

It was only after meeting a knight’s younger sister that she learned she was the first person he had a real conversation with after coming to this world.

She realized far too late that he, who had kept his heart closed, had first trusted and relied on her. To him, who was leaving to reassure her, to him, who had for the first time relied on someone, she had done something she shouldn’t have.

She didn’t entertain the thought of being forgiven now. Even that would be a luxury.

Yet.

If he still comes back.
If he really can save this world and survive.

Then.

Maybe she’ll have the chance to truly let go of her brother.

Years pass, and a porter arrives in Frontis.

* * *

The bathroom was as humid as in the summer. It was hard to tell if the moisture on her face was from steam or tears.

“It’s all in the past now. But thinking about it again… it feels new. In many ways.”

“It must feel new. More importantly, did you open the letter?”

There was a hint of melancholy in the calm voice. Not that there’s anything he could do about it. It’s not his place to comment on what happened between her and the hero. If it were the hero’s party members, they would have probably let out a hearty curse.

But from the look on her face, it seemed the letter had been opened.
Maybe I can take Lumen and head to Mt. Muak.

“No? It’s not opened.”

“Damn.”

It won’t open. Normally, it should open in situations like this. Or do they need to approach it in a completely different way, like with Aliana?

“I don’t know why it won’t open, but it seems we need a little more time.”

Lumen looked at the letter with a distant gaze, her eyes as still as if lost in thought.

“Here, you hold onto it for now.”

Given the situation, should he go to the master first? But if the letter he’s supposed to deliver to the master doesn’t open, it will be difficult. Even if he goes and comes back, it would be a disappointment if the letter isn’t open. What should he do about this?

“Ouch.”

The letter slipped from Lumen’s fingertips. Absorbed in other thoughts, I failed to check the letter that Lumen handed to me in time. Thus, the letter fluttered down towards the water. My body reacted instinctively towards the letter, but Lumen was quicker.

“It’s amazing. It doesn’t get wet even when it touches the water.”

She immediately snatched the letter that had settled down and examined it.
Then she wiped off the moisture that had adhered to the letter. With each stroke of her long fingers, the droplets on the surface began to disappear.

“Well, it’s a good thing it didn’t get too wet. The last time, the princess just completely destroyed it.”

“No, it’s a bit damp.”

“What? It shouldn’t get wet, should it?”

I quickly grabbed the letter that Lumen was holding. The edge of the letter was slightly wet. The fact that a letter, supposedly protected by the goddess’s blessing, had gotten wet could only mean one of two things.

Either the goddess had died.
Or the blessing had been lifted.

“Flan, that letter, it seems to have opened a bit, can I check it?”

Her hands trembled as she reached out for the letter.
Given the current situation, it must be the latter.

“Well, let’s see.”

I quietly handed over the letter. The conditions of the promise would need further consideration. Since master is still around, it’s a problem that only needs to be solved before going to the hero’s party. My head is spinning, so let’s take a break from thinking for now.

The scent of the herbs that filled my head, as well as the dizzying steam, had all calmed down. Lumen slowly got up. The water that had filled the bathtub flowed to the floor.

And so, another letter was opened.

The terms of its delivery are still unclear.