Chapter 2

Chapter 2

There were five kingdoms within one empire, four merchant republics, and hundreds of minor territories and noble families.

Among those hundreds of noble families, the Caldebern family had its roots in the Adelorn royal family, and the middle ancestor who formed a branch was the hero knight Caldebert. The name of the family meant his descendants.

Caldebert received a territory from the Emperor for his merits in the Eastern Expeditionary Land, and 100 years had passed since then.

It also meant that it was 100 years ago that the Empire's first Sword Master appeared.

They say if you kill a few people you are just a murderer, if you kill hundreds you are a hero, if you kill thousands you are a conqueror, and if you kill beyond that you become a god.

In an era where people thought thunder from the sky and floods destroying livelihoods were the will of God, the first Sword Master was regarded by people as a kind of natural disaster or divine warning.

People remembered that past of steel and blood like that. Divine judgment, punishment, condemnation for sinners regardless of status.

And people believed that he would inevitably return someday. Though they didn't know if he would bring salvation or destruction when he returned.

However, unlike the ignorant commoners, those in power like emperors and kings seemed to accept that past a bit differently.

They thought of the first Sword Master not as a messenger of salvation or apocalypse, but as a strategic weapon.

If only they could get their hands on that overwhelming strength. If it became mine......

As times change, some things must change, but there are also values to be preserved.

Heavy cavalry was still powerful on the battlefield, and the duties of knights had not yet ended.

Nobles had to protect their territories and fulfill military service according to contracts with their lords.

Protecting honor as a noble meant not avoiding fights. Not bowing to unjust threats, and taking courage as the greatest virtue. Even risking one's life.

There were still many who lived with such values. It was an era where being a noble implied being a warrior.

The Caldebern family's land was split as generations passed. Because at that time, divided inheritance was the customary law.

Now, at a time when not even a small scrap of land remained, there was the Caldebern family settled in a small manor called Stormhearts.

It was around the time when the hot summer passed and the weather began to get chilly. The harvested fields were resting, and large piles of dry straw were left here and there in the fields.

But the Lord Abelich still had work to do. The mansion of the Caldebern family in Stormhearts was busy from the morning despite the chilly air.

The Lord's attendants were running around packing this and that, and looking at the equipment, it seemed they were going hunting. Nets, crossbows, excitedly panting hunting dogs, boar hunting spears.

Abelich, the Lord of Stormhearts, sat on a dignified brown warhorse, the family's greatest asset, and scanned the attendants packing equipment. Then he felt one important thing was missing.

"Where is Ricky? Where is Ricky?"

"He's probably quietly stuck somewhere spacing out again."

The eldest son, wearing armor made of tough leather, stood by his father and answered indifferently.

"Boar hunting is our family's duty and an important event. Ricky is ten now, he must participate. Find him."

Hunting was not a simple leisure activity for nobles. Moreover, wild boars destroyed fields and dug up graves, so they were existences that had to be exterminated.

Stray goblins separated from a group could be chased away by any sturdy adult man, and wolves had the sense to run far away just from being scared, but boars were different. Their recklessness didn't stop unless killed.

And in a noble family, being ten years old meant they started raising boys and girls distinctly.

Before that, they raised them just like kids, but from ten, they started distinguishing by hair or clothes, and boys participated in hunting or practiced martial arts.

It was an era where boys were raised by mothers, men by fathers, and warriors by destiny.

However, the eldest son, upon hearing the order from his father, looked at the second son as if it were natural. There was a silent command in his gaze looking at his brother. You go.

But the younger brother tried to ignore his brother's gaze and avoid it. Seeing that, the eldest son Graut's eyebrows twitching in annoyance.

"Hey."

"Brother, you received the order from Father."

"And I'm ordering you."

"Why should I listen?"

"Because I'm the eldest son, and you're the second son."

Whether you are born first or second is a nature that cannot be helped by effort. And it wasn't chosen by oneself either. But one couldn't escape that strict yoke.

The second son, Vilter, was 14, becoming an adult next year. As boys approaching adulthood often are, he was somewhat rebellious as time passed.

Originally, the three brothers had good brotherly love, but it was unknown when or why they started to drift apart.

"I'm going to leave this damn house on my own feet."

Vilter spoke as if for his father or brother to hear, and moved his steps.

The blunt father ignored it as if he didn't hear, the brother frowned, and the other attendants just smiled as if it were cute.

However, Vilter couldn't find the youngest even after searching the watchtower attached to the mansion, the barn, and everywhere else. He even asked his sister-in-law, whom he didn't really want to run into, but she didn't know either.

"Wouldn't he be in the crypt? He might still miss Mother."

The sister-in-law, who was embroidering on a cloak hem with a young maid, said. The Lord's wife had died of fever two years ago.

"If he's not there either, he probably followed Mother."

"Don't speak like that. He's only ten. You should take good care of him, Young Master. I'll help too. By the way, do I really not have to go out?"

"Father told you to stay somewhere warm. But that's not out of concern for you, Sister-in-law, but purely for the baby in that belly."

Even if not wrong, there are words one hates to hear. Vilter's tone was always like this. Crooked and thorny.

But the sister-in-law just laughed it off, despite not being very old herself.

It wasn't anything else, but Vilter hated that. Everyone treating him like a child.

Or perhaps, the source of irritation Vilter himself didn't know might lie in the fact that the family was being taken away. This family, my family, becomes my brother's. There was no place for a second son.

Vilter left the room that used to be his mother's bedroom and was now his sister-in-law's. And as she said, he went down to the crypt.

From walking down the stairs, the chill unique to the underground brushed the nape of his neck. When he reached the underground, pitch-black darkness filled it.

But far away, there was a place shining faintly like a fragile candlelight lit in the middle of the underworld.

Under a torch hanging on the wall was the youngest. The youngest was looking at something. It was like standing on the border between the underworld and this world.

"Ricky!"

Vilter's shout echoed in the underground. Then the brother who hadn't even lost his baby fat looked back at his brother.

He was the third son of the Caldebern family with blond hair and hazel eyes, Rickart. Ricky was his nickname.

Vilter approached his brother. His brother's eyes looking up at him intently appeared green or blue depending on the angle of the light, and sometimes brown. Now they were reddish-blue because of the light.

"What are you doing here? Don't you know there's a hunt today?"

"Just. I came down. Today is the day Mother passed away."

In front of Rickart was a stone coffin with the deceased's figure carved on the lid. It was their mother's coffin.

"Do you remember such things? Since you're ten now, shouldn't you accept it resolutely? And isn't it better to start worrying about your future?"

Ten years old wasn't just a young age. It was an age to receive knight training in earnest or be expected to fulfill a person's role. It was harsher for commoners.

At his brother's scolding, Rickart lowered his eyes and shut his mouth. Vilter felt sorry for no reason and his heart softened.

Rickart said.

"Growing up in Mother's arms makes me feel like I already have everything. So I'm not particularly worried about the future."

Vilter couldn't understand what nonsense his brother was saying.

"......I don't know if you're precocious or simple. People are waiting outside. Let's go."

Vilter roughly stroked his brother's hair as if messing it up and held his hand.

"Okay."

Rickart was led by his brother's hand and left the crypt as if escaping the boundary of the underworld. Climbing the stairs, the deep ultramarine light of early morning wrapped around the two.

When they went out to the courtyard, people who had already finished preparations were waiting for them.

"Does it take this long because you couldn't find one kid?"

The eldest brother Graut spat out a word unluckily.

"Then you should have gone to find him, Brother."

"This rascal. I'm telling you."

Lately, the first and second sons were prone to bicker whenever their eyes met. Abelich simply subdued his two sons.

"Stop. Ricky, stick next to Billy. Since it's your first hunt, just watch from afar. Butch, you take care of the two kids."

"Understood, Sir."

After giving simple instructions, Abelich spurred his horse and galloped out of the courtyard alone. The flashy feather stuck in his hunting hat shook roughly in the wind.

Clop, clop, the sound quickly faded away.

The rest of the personnel followed him on foot. The Lord Abelich soon passed the hillside and disappeared from view, but it didn't matter because they knew where to meet.

The personnel mobilized for the hunt were about ten able-bodied men from the village and a few retainer-like people.

Why retainer-like was because they weren't paid a salary separately but were allowed tax exemption. They were a kind of yeoman farmers.

One family had a connection since the great-grandfather, others since the grandfather.

Because it was a poor territory, there was an aspect of relying on loyalty rather than money. It was a form where several families were united around the Lord's family. Expanding this largely, it was also a microcosm of the feudal society with the Emperor at the apex.

When war broke out, the Lord was a knight and officer, the retainers acted as non-commissioned officers, and the rest were a kind of soldiers. In other words, these were the minimum unit in combat.

And hunting was also combat training. Just because many people flocked together didn't mean game was caught.

They had to move systematically, and for that, they had to coordinate in peacetime.

The series of processes of tracking, driving, and finishing off took place in a wide place where they couldn't see each other. The direction sound comes from, if it's someone I know, they would act like this, such things.

It wasn't something done in a day or two, but taught from father to son, and son to grandson over generations. In other words, it was combat training and field learning.

Rickart was participating in such field learning for the first time. Even so, the boy showed no sign of excitement or fear characteristic of kids. He was calm as usual.

People carrying this and that gear went ahead, and Rickart followed Butch with Vilter.

It was the slack season for farming. The air was somewhat chilly, and not only the fields but also the grass in the plains was drying yellow. The trees were tinged with colorful autumn leaves.

"Ricky has seen a wild boar too, right?"

Butch asked. Butch was the son of a 'retainer-like person', and grew up with the Lord's sons in the neighborhood since childhood, so they were close.

Several boar hunting spears were placed on his shoulder, and the long and wide spearheads were almost the size of a human face. Without that much, they couldn't pierce the tough hide of a wild boar.

"Well, have I seen one?"

"About two years ago, didn't you see one? Weren't you there then?"

"He was sticking by Mother because she was sick."

Vilter corrected Butch's inaccurate memory.

"Ah, right. Don't be too nervous, Ricky. We pitch a camp and live there for a while, that's all. Three days if short, about two weeks if long? You'll probably see a dead boar. It's not dangerous."

At the words not to be too nervous, Rickart just smiled faintly.

"It was docile when I saw it then. I don't know why adults scare us saying it's dangerous for no reason."

Vilter swept the grass in the field needlessly with a stick in his hand and spoke in his characteristic grumbling tone.

"It is dangerous. Even beasts know their lives are precious. Once they start rampaging, it's really dangerous."

"Butch, have you ever seen a boar rampaging?"

Vilter asked.

"No. I haven't seen one either. But Ryan's father was gored to death by a boar. I was young, so you guys probably don't know."

"Well, people die from this and that. I will too someday."

Mother, and Ryan's father too, it was a world where death was close. Disease, unexpected accidents, war, and starvation.

Stormhearts was relatively better off in terms of eating. Not abundant, but enough for the current people to barely make a living.

"By the way, are you practicing sword a bit? Billy."

"No. I don't want to go anywhere like battle. I'm not the eldest son anyway. Why should I."

"Still, wouldn't it be good to practice sword separately? It's not something you can learn just because you want to. Even for self-defense...... Alright. I won't nag. Then do you have anything in mind? When the Young Master becomes the Lord......"

"So what if Brother becomes the Lord? Are you saying I'll be kicked out of here or something?"

"Well, because nowadays they don't divide property equally. How about swallowing your pride and getting some support even now?"

"I don't want to say regrettable things to Brother."

"......You really."

In the past, the principle was to divide land or property equally among children, but not anymore. Because the family's power weakened, inheritance culture driving everything to the eldest son was settling.

Therefore, if not born as the legitimate eldest son, life became somewhat unfortunate, and noble families often sent sons other than the eldest to monasteries or knight orders early on.

Because in a noble family, brothers could be the best allies yet the worst political enemies, and if the succession structure wasn't stable, retainers or vassals would waver. Factions dividing over supreme power had to be avoided at all costs.

Still, some succeeded by becoming bishops or abbots through their own efforts.

In the case of knight orders, it was honorable but dangerous and difficult in many ways. Disciplined group life, arduous training, combat, and above all, they didn't give special treatment just because one was a noble.

In other words, if not born as the legitimate eldest son, one had to solve their own livelihood problems. In the first place, Caldebern's progenitor Caldebert was also a case of succeeding on his own.

Vilter was 14, so he had grown up in the family for quite a long time. But since his brother had gotten a wife and would soon have children, it was time to look for his own way to live.

If it were a daughter, could she stick around the house a bit longer? Or, if the baby dies as soon as it's born?

All useless thoughts. Since he was of age, leaving soon was all the same.

Vilter couldn't help but feel complicated lately. It was because he had to have the resolve to live alone now.

In the midst of that, there was someone in a similar situation to him. It was his younger brother Rickart.

Maybe because he was at an age where he didn't know anything yet, when Vilter looked back at his brother, he had a calm expression just like usual. Sometimes like a precocious old man, absurd, docile, and kind brother.

His brother walked looking at the ground, looked up at the deep blue sky, looked far away once...... He seemed to have no thoughts at all. It breaks my heart, but should I stingingly awaken him to reality?

Meanwhile, while walking looking far away, Rickart raised his hand and pointed there.

"Isn't that a wild boar?"

Butch and Vilter turned their heads at the same time to look in the direction Rickart pointed. Far away, near the border of the forest, a wild boar was running wildly.

"Uh? You're right."

The Lord Abelich was chasing after it on horseback. But something was strange. The boar turned gently and was running towards this side.

At first, the three just stared blankly because the distance was far, but when they realized it was coming this way, Butch and Vilter felt their hair stand on end and momentarily couldn't think of anything.

Suddenly the situation turned urgent. The barking of hunting dogs unleashed from their master's hands was heard frantically.

Woof! Woof!

"Butch! Butch! Protect the young masters!"

Among the people going ahead, Butch's father shouted urgently coming back. Protect? How?

"Uh, uh......"

The boar was getting closer. They didn't know when it was far, but its size was extraordinary. Shoulder height alone seemed higher than Rickart's height. It was fast too.

The startled adults threw spears from afar, but they only cut through the innocent air.

"Butch! Butch!"

Butch heard his father's voice muffled. He just froze on the spot. Vilter was the same.

Then, someone snatched one of the spears Butch was carrying and pushed him hard. Butch collapsed sideways into the dry grass. Ricky came into view.

A child not yet free of baby fat held the spear backward, rested the shaft on his shoulder, and aimed the spearhead at the oncoming boar.

And he spread his legs wide front and back, shifting his center of gravity to the front foot as if he would fall forward.

Without a moment to say anything, the house-sized boar pounced on the child.

Thud thud thud! Thud thud thud! Thud thud thud!

Thwak!

Rickart flew far back and rolled over the grass. Butch and Vilter, right next to him, stood with blank expressions not knowing what had happened.

"Ricky! Ricky!"

The Lord Abelich rushed urgently to the fallen Rickart.

He hurriedly got off his horse and examined his third son. But surprisingly, the young son hadn't lost consciousness and was lying on the yellow dry grass looking at the sky. His palm was torn and bleeding.

Abelich's heart sank so much that he hugged Rickart unknowingly.

"L-Lord. Lord."

Someone called from behind. Abelich turned his head reflexively.

Then the carcass of the dead boar with its forehead accurately pierced by a spear came into view. Huh?

No one spoke. Only the sound of wind blowing in the field and dogs barking could be heard.