It was early in the morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise. The stage for the meeting was the plain of Sarnio, stretching out in front of the autonomous city of Philos. It seemed that this would be the fairest place.
The feel of horseshoes pounding the earth shook my body. By the time I stepped into the center of the plain, its shadow was already visible in the distance. There is a man there, clad in gray armor that seems to blend in well with the night, with eyes that seem to be somewhat irreverent. A familiar large scar was etched into his face.
With a slight wave of his hand, he stopped the Gazarian troops that had been following him for protection. He then rode forward single-handedly, forcing the guards to stop in their tracks as he did the same, and proceeded to horseshoe his way into the center of the plain. That's very well-behaved for this guy.
"Have you lost some weight, old man?
One rider against another, their voices no longer reaching the guards. Then there's no need to worry about your language. The enemy general, my master Richard, choked on my words with a crooked smile on his face.
You've become a sight to behold. You're no longer a dredger, are you?
You're out of the ditch dredging business now?
It had been a long time since I had heard Grandpa Richard's voice, but he didn't sound old at all. In fact, he seemed much more intrepid than when he was spinning his pipes in the tavern. It was as if he was saying that this place was familiar to him.
We exchanged a few words. We exchanged a few words, all trivial. It wasn't like we were updating each other. We just talked a little about the old days, that's all.
It was nothing more than a trivial act, a waste of time. There was nothing useful to come out of miscellaneous conversations between enemy generals.
Strangely enough, however, the nostalgic exchange with the old man unknowingly eased my mood. It was more than I could have hoped for after such a tense time. It's funny. This must be the enemy I'm about to kill.
The tall grass that covered the plain squealed as if driven by the wind.
"But, old man. But, old man, did you have a bad drink with the Grand Captain of the Great Sacred Church?
We initiated the conversation. Even though it's not a bad feeling, if you keep repeating the same nonsense over and over again, you'll eventually get drawn into the old man's circle. Then it is better to take the first step, even if it is a little hasty.
The old man, with a somewhat easy smile on his face, paused for a beat and said, "Well, that's not my style.
Not my style. That's true. But I'm not going to sit around forever, either.
The old man's eyes, so many years old, seemed to flash for a moment. His white beard swayed as his fingers stroked it.
It's not my style, that's true. At least the old Richard I knew wasn't the kind of person who would bother to step onto the stage. Rather, he was smiling from behind the stage, pulling strings. He must have been that kind of person. The kind of person who wouldn't cross a dangerous bridge on his own, but would take advantage of someone else and dredge up the profits.
The old man said in a hoarse voice, "But," and continued.
"The only thing worse than me is you, Rougis. I don't care if you're a herald or not, but to be a hero is nothing short of a change of heart.
I see. Now that you mention it, I have no words to reply. You're absolutely right. When I think of the time when I used to sleep in the muddy streets of the favelas, the title of hero is not far off. It's not a title that suits me before it suits or doesn't suit me.
He must have seen the bitterness in my expression. The old man laughed, clearing his throat loudly. It was just a cheerful, unconcerned laugh.
You know. I feel like a bug crawling around my neck when I do something out of character. Being dressed up like a battalion commander and then being dragged to a ceremony like this. It's ridiculous.
That's what a master is supposed to do. I don't know if it's because I'm like him, or if we were born with similar characteristics, but we seem to have similar sensibilities.
I don't know if it's because I'm like him, or because I was born with the same traits. I don't like those things very much. And I guess that goes for old Richard, too.
I really don't like him. I guess. If there's a front and a back to the world, I don't feel like living while I'm on the front. Maybe it's just my nature, but the air, the water, everything doesn't suit me. Like fish and birds, we all have a place to live.
You know, around. I was beginning to have a vague idea of what the old man was trying to say. What was he trying to tell me and what was the purpose of this meeting?
I felt my hands sweat slightly as I gripped the horse's reins. I could hear the sound of the horse's hooves lightly kicking up the earth.
What about you, Lugis? Do you truly believe that where you are now is where you want to live?
That's a very roundabout way of putting it. Maybe that was his way of saying he cared. Or is it that I've somehow gotten caught up in his spacing? I can't figure that out.
But it was true that my heart thumped loudly for a moment at the old man's words. A little sweat trickled down my forehead.
"What does that mean again?
He muttered and narrowed his eyes. I could see the scars on the old man's face distorting greatly.
"Don't play dumb, Lugis.
The old man opens his mouth without breaking his words.
"You're just like me. You're not a hero, you're not a streetwalker. Leave that to the show-offs.
Richard's old man's eyes had a melancholy look in them, like he was looking at something he missed. The words coming out of his mouth were filled with a strange sense of reality.
I once heard a silly story in a bar. Richard's grandfather had once stood in the limelight as an adventurer, or so the story went.
He stepped into the big time, where he could grab positions and honors with his hands. He must have had talent, luck, and ability. If nothing happened to him, he might have been able to soar to great heights.
But the old man threw it all away. Instead, he threw himself into the backstreets with disappointment in his heart.
How much of that is true, I don't know. I didn't want to check with him, and he didn't want to tell me these tales told in bars. But at this moment, the words coming out of his mouth were filled with a strange sense of reality and weight, that's for sure.
"Then what? Are you suggesting that I go behind your back and pull your strings? Just like the evil man gloating in the shadows.
The old man's words trailed off for a moment, and then he said. I felt my stomach growl. My brow wrinkled naturally.
"That's right. It's the only choice we have.
His reply was short. And that must have been the purpose of his calling me. Whether he meant it or not, or whether he was just trying to trick me, I don't know.
My eyelids fluttered a few times.
"Garristo is a stupid country. It's blood, it's upbringing, it's pride. Bloodline, upbringing, pride... there are plenty of people with that in their heads. But strangely enough, it's those idiots who write the scripts in this country.
I hate that word, I hate that word. It's a strange, easy thing to hear. It was the kind of words that force their way into your brain.
"It's much better to be on the back of the stage pulling the strings than to be in that script. Much, much better.
The old man's expression wavered for a moment, as if he was remembering something. But he immediately raised his gaze and pierced me straight through.
The expression on his face was gone, which was unusual for an old man who always smiled so frivolously. It was the first time I had ever seen such a thing.
"Rougis, would you like to come with me? Since I heard rumors about you, I gathered some information. I've gathered some information since I heard the rumors about you, and it turns out, you're quite resourceful.
Thank you for the compliment. I'd throw my hands up in the air. If it weren't for this.
Not as an adventurer, of course, but as a swordsman.
Grandpa Richard's words reach my ears. My eyes widen and harden. The shadows shifted slightly, conveying a glimmer of sunlight.
"You are willing to incite, attract, and use people with your tongue. "You are willing to incite, entice, and exploit with your tongue, and in truth, you care for nothing but your own ends. I don't care if people die or live because of you. Rougis, you...
--A scoundrel, no doubt. Just like me.
Richard's voice gripped my heart before I knew it.