WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle
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◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈
Chapter 22: Great Warrior (5)
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Volx had once been a woodcutter. At eighteen, he was conscripted into a territorial war and took five lives with a single axe.
Two were fellow conscripted farmers, one was a mercenary, one was a warhorse, and the last was the knight riding it.
Splitting wood was tedious work, but splitting people was exciting!
After that realization, Volx left his hometown and became a mercenary.
By the time he had broken thirteen axes and killed more than thirty people, he had been granted a knighthood.
He had no manners or refinement. His horsemanship was dreadful, and he lacked the tactical skill to lead soldiers. He was unfit to be a knight in every way.
Still, Gord overlooked any flaw as long as someone was strong, so he was treated well wherever he went.
“If you're going to surrender, say so in advance. Don't die miserably like that bastard earlier.”
Volx tapped his palm with the axe handle.
Since he did not use a shield, he had reinforced parts of his chain mail with iron plates. Combined with his enormous frame and two-handed axe, he cut an imposing figure.
Holding an iron round shield and a longsword, Eugene looked at Cressy's corpse.
“Could you not have subdued that knight earlier without killing him? Was I mistaken?”
With Volx's strength, he could have stopped the axe. He might have injured Cressy from failing to control his strength, but that was all.
“What use is surrendering once the fight has begun? I've never stopped my axe halfway through a swing! Once I swing it, whether it's wood or a person, shouldn't I keep chopping until it splits?”
“I see. I understand your way now.”
Eugene took his stance, and Volx smiled viciously. He had recommended surrender, but he hoped Eugene would not accept.
Volx believed a warrior's worth was decided by how much blood they spilled in the arena.
“Raaah!”
Volx charged with a roar.
His momentum was fierce, but compared to a giant boar's charge, it was nothing. Eugene simply stepped aside from the axe that came down with both hands.
“Keep dodging, then!”
Volx swung his axe as though he meant to tear apart everything before him. The sound of its massive blade cutting through the air, vertically and horizontally, was terrifying.
Every enemy he had faced had met the same end once caught in that storm. Whether they dodged or blocked, they would be driven back until they reached a dead end, then split apart.
Yet Eugene easily avoided every swing while maintaining his distance.
“You bastard! How long are you going to run around like a rat?”
Volx's fighting spirit burned hotter as he unleashed a furious barrage.
“W-won't he lose at this rate?”
“I heard he was Sir Gopri's direct disciple.”
“Fannis! What's going on?!”
At a glance, Volx seemed to be overwhelming Eugene and driving him back, so sighs rose from Bonyard City's seats.
Only Karas, Homi, the opposing Champions waiting their turn, and the Gord nobles remained calm.
Eugene, meanwhile, was disappointed.
‘All that effort I put into sharpening my senses was pointless.’
Volx's movements were so direct that there would have been no difference even if Eugene fought with his ears covered.
Whoosh!
He dodged the axe blade again.
“You bastard!”
He had heightened his hearing in hopes of imitating even a quarter of Gopri's ability, but it had not helped in a real fight.
Whoosh!
‘No matter how much I hone my senses, I can't become like Master. From now on, I'd better just observe my opponents normally.’
Whoosh!
As Volx's axe continued to miss, even spectators who knew nothing of martial arts began to sense that something was strange.
“Whew.”
Fannis wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Haaah!”
Volx also drew in a ragged breath.
“If you're a knight, fight me properly!”
“All right.”
Eugene knocked aside the incoming axe with his shield.
Clang!
The opponent who had only dodged until now counterattacked with unimaginable strength, sending the axe soaring high into the air.
“Urgh.”
The force behind the shield strike was so great that Volx's palm split open and began to bleed. It was fortunate he had not dropped the axe.
Slash.
A flash streaked across the giant's exposed right armpit as he stood with both arms raised.
“Argh!”
Blood gushed from Volx's right armpit. It was far too much bleeding for an ordinary cut. It was like a giant had slashed open the middle of a dam, sending water pouring out.
Clang!
Strength drained from the hand holding the handle, and the axe head struck the ground.
“W-wait...”
Volx was violent, but he was not a fool. Realizing it was a serious wound that needed immediate treatment, he raised his left hand to surrender.
Slash!
A flash cut across his exposed left armpit as well.
“Aaargh!”
Clatter.
The axe rolled across the floor. Blood streamed from both armpits as the giant writhed in agony.
“He won!”
“That barbarian got what he deserved!”
Bonyard City's crowd, which had looked nearly dead moments earlier, sprang back to life.
“No way!”
“Volx lost in a contest of strength?”
“Damn it! My mooooney!”
The Gord side was thrown into confusion. Some who had placed bets clawed at their hair.
Once the result was decided, Volx's Squire hurried out and dragged his master to the physician.
The physician shook their head.
But once again, there was nothing they could do.
“Both arteries have been severed. This is impossible.”
“S-save me... Please, save... me.”
His heart and lungs had not been struck, but he had lost too much blood. His lips grew paler by the second, while his yellow teeth chattered.
“I will continue building my honor. Let the next opponent come forward.”
Eugene pointed his sword at Gord's Champions and spoke in a deep voice.
When he glanced toward Bonyard City's side, Homi stood there with a frustrated expression. She seemed to resent her own throat because she wanted to declare her master's glory as loudly as Volx's Squire had, but could not.
Karas tried to pat her head in comfort, but Homi slapped his hand away.
“For honor.”
Badel, the second Champion to enter, pointed his sword at Eugene.
His family was true western nobility, having settled there before the sea raiders arrived. Unlike the other Gord knights, Badel guarded against violence and admired the virtue of restraint.
“Sir Badel! Stay strong!”
A young woman called out in support.
“Protect Gord's glory!”
Other spectators joined in, raising their fists.
Thankful for their support, Badel raised his shield. It was a blunt, inverted triangular heater shield.
‘Dangerous. This man is a truly dangerous knight.’
His strength overwhelmed even Volx, his sword moved like light, and his body was as supple as a feather riding the wind.
Every part of Badel's body screamed a warning. Though Eugene had not even moved yet, sweat trickled down his forehead.
Eugene attacked first. Having realized that imitating his master was pointless, he simply needed to claim victory.
Clang!
Badel's arming sword collided with Eugene's longsword.
Naturally, Badel was the only one who staggered badly. He desperately raised his shield to block the second strike.
Crack!
The thick shield was ripped apart in a single blow.
It was not split in two, but its upper section had been shredded and now hung to the side by a thin strip. The shield, once shaped like a V, had become a w.
“W-what is this?”
“My God.”
Everyone was stunned by the destructive force that defied all common sense. Count Andar spilled his wine, soaking his beard and shirt.
Eugene's third attack came before anyone could react. His iron shield, held sideways, knocked Badel's sword away and slammed into his chest.
Thud!
“Cough!”
From the sensation at the edge of his shield, Eugene was certain he had cracked several of Badel's ribs.
Clang!
Badel dropped his sword and was flung to the ground in an undignified heap. Trembling, he reached for his weapon, but he did not even seem to have the strength to crawl toward it.
Screams erupted from Gord's seats as Eugene walked closer.
The moment Eugene seized Badel by the collar.
“Mercy!”
Someone shouted.
“Sir Badel! No!”
“Knight of Bonyard City! Please show mercy!”
“Do not kill an honorable knight!”
Eugene looked over Gord's seats. Noblewomen covered their mouths or eyes, and the men wore grave expressions. It was not a reaction they had shown when Volx was carried away, bleeding heavily.
“I looked at your side when Cressy died earlier.”
Cressy had remained alive for a while even after Eugene had opened his eyes.
“He wasn't someone close to me, and his attitude of hiding behind others to earn easy money was pathetic. Still, it was unpleasant to watch someone with whom I'd shared meals, however briefly, die so miserably.”
At that time, Eugene had spotted the only knight among Gord's side who made the sign of the cross and mourned the enemy's death.
It had been Badel.
“Your respect was honorable. Will you acknowledge your defeat now?”
“...I have lost.”
When Badel agreed, Eugene released him and stepped back.
Badel's Squire immediately rushed over and took him to the physician.
“Remove his armor and lay him down at once!”
At last, the physician had something they could do and eagerly began treatment.
“Victory!”
“Glory to the honorable knight!”
“Long live Sir Eugene!”
Thunderous cheers rose from the stands. The difference from Volx's defeat was that a few voices from Gord's side also praised Eugene.
“I will see my honor through to the end!”
Eugene raised his sword and declared.
The last contender emerged from the now-quiet Gord side, their initial spirit gone. It was Lipton, carrying a shield and a one-handed axe.
‘I have to attack first!’
After seeing Badel's fight, Lipton knew a defensive approach meant certain defeat. He rushed in as soon as the duel began.
He feinted as though he would attack with his axe, then suddenly swung his shield. Eugene was not fooled and met it with his own shield.
Boom!
When the two shields collided, Lipton alone was flung backward.
Thud!
He fell face-first onto the ground in an unsightly manner, and the shield he had never dropped in battle flew from his hand. If he had dropped his axe as well, it would have been truly humiliating.
As Lipton struggled to rise, his Squire quickly handed his shield back to him.
Applause burst out from every direction for Eugene's chivalry in waiting while his opponent prepared to fight again.
‘Where did a monster like this come from?!’
Lipton screamed inwardly.
He was a knight praised for his perfect balance between offense and defense, an iron fortress when defending and a fighter who attacked with two weapons when on the offensive.
He had beaten more enemies to death with a shield than anyone else on the continent.
But none of that mattered if his shield was being smashed to pieces.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Lipton kept stumbling backward beneath Eugene's relentless slashes.
The oak shield reinforced with an iron rim was reduced to rags in moments.
“Urgh!”
The back of his hand was deeply cut through the shredded shield, and blood poured from it.
“Haah!”
He desperately swung his axe with his remaining hand, but a single shield strike sent it flying far away.
“I have lost.”
Lipton admitted defeat before the sword held at his throat.
“The gods have rendered their judgment!”
The Roman noble seated in the place of honor stepped forward and shouted.
“Bonyard City has the right to possess everything agreed upon! This is guaranteed by sacred law passed down since ancient times! Anyone who dares break their oath will face the gods' judgment and suffer in the fires of hell!”
It was common for the representative of the witnesses to announce the result in the gods' name.
Today, though, the declaration was unusually grand. The Roman noble's feelings over the drawing of lots had likely slipped into it.
‘What happens from here?’
Eugene watched the Gord nobles. Even though it had been a sacred duel, they could not help resenting the Champion who had humiliated the Gord nobles.
There were nobles glaring at Eugene and others smacking their lips.
“Wahahaha! I've never seen a shield split apart like that in my life!”
“Neither have I.”
Some nobles were laughing and chatting, though. One of them was Count Andar, who had suggested drawing lots.
‘His reaction isn't as bad as I expected.’
Count Andar raised a full goblet toward Eugene, then drank deeply from it.
“Those Gord fellows, honestly.”
“If they weren't so desperate, why would they put on such a charade?”
Bonyard City's spectators could only stare at them in disbelief.
‘As long as I make money and don't offend powerful nobles, that's enough.’
As always, Eugene looked on the bright side.
* * *
They had left quietly to fight, but their return after victory was the opposite.
“For the Champions who saved the city!”
“Glory to the honorable victors!”
The city guards and mercenaries contracted by the city had all gathered for a ceremonial review. They had not fought on a battlefield, but passing between their ranks made Eugene feel like a victorious general returning from war.
The Grand Council members had also opened their purses. Children waved small flags and cheered, while young women scattered flower petals from baskets.
“I didn't do anything. This is embarrassing.”
Only Karas grumbled.
“You did do something. You kept the knights bothering me away and helped me stay in good condition.”
Eugene smiled. A flower crown placed on his head by a young girl rested there still.
“Are you mocking me?”
“I mean it.”
Karas sighed as he looked at Eugene.
“I thought you were an impressive knight, but my imagination was lacking. You skewered all three of them as if they were conscripts. It's pure luck that I provoked a person like you and came away unharmed. I should visit a temple and pray later.”
“Are you joking?”
“I mean that too.”
Eugene had gained a great deal from the fight. Beyond the reward, Bonyard City was connected to many countries, making it a fine place to seek opportunities for advancement.
Receiving privileges such as immunity for all but serious crimes and the right to travel at night in such a city meant a great deal.
Still, there was one thing he regretted.
“It's a shame this wasn't a war, so there are no spoils or ransoms. Volx is one thing, but if we had captured Badel or Lipton, their families would have paid handsomely.”
Karas looked at Eugene, who was smacking his lips, in disbelief.
“You're greedier than you look. Can't you hear all those voices praising your name?”
People all around were shouting Eugene's name.
“Victor Knight! Victor Knight!”
“Sir Eugene, look over here!”
“Bonyard City's Victor Knight!”
Victor Knight was an honorable title granted to someone who defeated every enemy alone in a Hall War. They had to defeat at least three opponents.
Hall Wars occurred far less frequently than trial by combat, and since renowned knights from many places were gathered for them, it was a hard honor to earn.
Karas had bravely stepped forward in this match as well, but honestly, winning against all three would have been impossible.
“They say he smashed three Gord knights all by himself.”
“Then why does he look so fine? He doesn't even seem to have sweated.”
“Maybe he didn't get hit even once.”
“Is that even possible? Gord knights have palms as big as our faces!”
“That's exactly why. Do you think those vicious axe-wielders would just cower on their own?”
There were quite a few famous paintings depicting returning Victor Knights.
A duel fought in place of thousands of lives!
A knight who defeated every enemy alone and returned!
They were like the perfect embodiment of this era's dreams, so naturally they were popular.
And the miserable truth was omitted from such heroic tales.
Armor covered in dents and scratches. Faces drenched in sweat and exhaustion. Disheveled hair. Bloodstained clothes. Severed hands, blinded eyes, even half-dead knights with grave wounds returning on wagons.
Had there ever been a Victor Knight who returned looking exactly like a painting, without shedding a single drop of blood, as Eugene did?
One thing was certain. This sight would be remembered forever.
“You're watching closely, right? Paint it exactly as it is, no, make it even more magnificent. Sir Eugene's achievement must endure even a thousand years from now!”
“Leave it to me, Chief Constable. To begin with, I don't think I need to leave anything out or add anything.”
Fannis had prepared a painter who had graduated from the Roman Academy at great expense. That had only been possible because he was certain of victory.
Amid the fervent cheers, the painter began sketching the Victor Knight returning like a hero. It would be displayed in the finest location of the mansion reserved for the city's distinguished guests.
Footnotes:
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