Chapter 130

What I see right before my eyes is truly an unreal scene.

Dominius’s hunting dogs, the specters, had been engaged in a life-and-death duel. As soon as I felt the strike of my sword slicing through the opponent’s helmet, I was overwhelmed with a sense of victory that surged through my hand. But this joy was fleeting.

From the split helmet, I saw someone who sacrificed their life for me and even gave me their name. Looking back on my entire life, I couldn’t find anyone more deserving of gratitude than them.

And there, my twin brother, struck by the sword I wielded, smiled contentedly as he bled profusely and fell backward.

How could I not call this unreal? Am I having a terrible nightmare? Or is this a well-constructed fake, acting until my dying breath to unsettle me? Or perhaps… No, even that isn’t possible. Could this be an illusion cast by Dominius, who can manipulate others’ memories at will?

None of these scenarios left a good taste, but compared to the reality I now faced, they seemed almost preferable. This was horrifying and surreal, especially since the fallen opponent, no, my brother, showed no signs of movement.

Not only did they teach me how to use a sword, which I had learned merely as a tool, to do something better. Yet, I ended up cutting down the person who sacrificed their precious life for me and gave me their name.

I felt so powerless and despondent that I wanted to kneel and cry out immediately. But I knew better than anyone else that, no matter how painful this situation was, I couldn’t act like a madman and wail here.

I forced myself to stand again and limped towards where my brother lay. My instincts and reason agreed that the fallen figure ahead was real, but I needed to confirm the truth.

“Twin…?” The duke said, his voice filled with bewilderment upon seeing my brother’s face from the split helmet.

A weaponless man clicked his tongue, revealing a sorrowful emotion from behind me. But now, responding to those two wasn’t as urgent as calling out to my brother.

I approached him, shouting his name. I hadn’t held back even in jest when swinging my sword, leaving me unsure if he was still alive after such a desperate blow.

Despite the determination to keep moving forward, I paused when I felt something sticky underfoot. It was blood. The mark of the ultimate strike I had delivered was clearly visible on the cold ground.

The sticky sensation made my senses dizzy, and the acrid smell of blood further disoriented me. Even without reaching the source of the bleeding, I felt dizzy.

I had seen countless scenes of others’ blood on battlefields and had spilled plenty myself, yet I had never experienced such dizziness. I had fought many villains, each with their own reasons to clash swords with me.

Even considering my short life, I had encountered numerous enemies in these two categories, and I had often soaked my face in their spilled blood. Yet, I had never been so flustered by the scent of blood as I am now.

Even if I consider myself somewhat matured, this state was beyond description. Not just now, but even in my less mature days, when I was dragged by Dominius to learn swordsmanship against my will and thrown into battles to kill demons, the shock of killing barbarians who looked human but acted like monsters was nothing compared to this.

My firm resolve to move forward was momentarily shaken by the weakness that made me unable to face the consequences of my actions. My legs trembled as they tried to resist my will to move forward.

I felt an urge to stop right there, but amidst the silence where everyone was cautious not to breathe, I heard a voice echoing in my mind.

“How amusing, Andymion! Among those who fell to your sword and became spirits, who wouldn’t resent you? And among the families of those who died, who wouldn’t blame you? Then why are you so disturbed and suffering over the one who fell to your sword?”

“You caused this! If you turn away, who else will look at it straight on?”

“Are you going to pretend to be incapacitated after all this?”

“That is arrogance and hypocrisy. Don’t boast; accept the results of your actions humbly.”

My conscience kept urging me not to stop, hammering my heart with its relentless command.

The shout from my heart echoed in my head, leading me to a realization.

Ah, yes. Indeed. Whether I stay here or not, whether I see the consequences of my actions or not, the one who has fallen won’t come back to life. Why am I insisting on not facing what I must see?

And if I don’t confirm what I have done, who else will? Rather than regretting without seeing, I should see and confirm with my own eyes what I have done.

Creak!

Gritting my teeth, I took another step forward, determined to face whatever was there without despair or frustration.

But unexpectedly, a soft voice close to mine whispered in my ear, melting away the venom I had harbored.

“…Brother?”

As I dragged my heavy legs forward, I saw my brother, who had fallen backward, blink his eyes open and look at me. It was clear life activity.

Even though this alone was a relief, my brother spoke as if to remind me not to relax too much.

“Truly, how did you become so strong when you used to be timid around me?”

Despite the seemingly casual tone, his words were comforting, showing care despite the burden.

The more I looked, the more certain I became that it was indeed my brother. Yet, the question of how he regained consciousness and started joking around after such a severe injury expanded in my mind.

“Why are you so unharmed?”

He raised his right hand to his forehead and naturally followed his gesture with my gaze. What I saw was…

“…Sheet metal?”

“Looks like you forgot what I taught you. No matter how thorough the preparation, it may not be enough. Your sword is sharp, and I wondered if you didn’t prepare properly.”

The thin sheet of metal placed on top of his helmet had taken the brunt of my strike, becoming tattered.

Seeing the faint light emanating from the damaged metal, I realized it had undergone special magical treatment, making it cost-prohibitive for ordinary knights.

Only then did I understand why my fatal strike felt oddly shallow. Had I realized this sooner, I would have struck deeper to ensure a lethal wound, avoiding retaliation.

Now, hearing my brother’s casual remarks, I smiled lightly, relieved by my earlier complacency.

“I taught you everything, but I haven’t emphasized enough that vigilance is crucial until the very end.”

My brother chided me gently, though his tone was light.

It was a gentle concern, not a harsh reprimand.

Knowing this person had the right to scold me, I apologized.

“It seems this is the last time…”

He replied, “Heh, I believe you…”

His voice lacked strength, but he extended his right hand to me.

“There’s something important I need to tell everyone here.”

His expression had shifted to one of serious duty, now focused on sharing vital information.

Naturally, I reached for his hand to help him up, recalling our past sparring sessions after training days.

Though I was weak, my brother, who had remarkable talent despite his frailty, always ended our duels with me on the ground, rising only when he offered his hand.

Now, the roles were reversed, yet the familiar feeling of his hand remained unchanged.

—

I had so many questions for my brother. How could he be alive after I saw him dead? And how should I explain this to the duke, who was bewildered by my brother’s appearance?

“No need to force an explanation. It will unravel like a play anyway…”

My brother seemed to read my thoughts and tried to ease my worries in a peculiar way.

Although it was strange, given that identity forgery had been exposed, I felt puzzled by his nonchalant attitude.

“When we defeat Dominius, everything will return to normal.”

He dodged my question with ambiguous words and greeted the approaching duke first.

Surprisingly, the duke’s tone was calm, almost indifferent.

“Dominius… an old friend who strayed onto the wrong path… your karma is deep…”

His deep sigh while mentioning Dominius suggested he knew more than he let on.