Chapter 52: Blind

I stand my ground, ready my sword against the only one I would call “friend”.

“Pedro…”

“Tell me, Peter,” the dark-skinned knight does the same, his eyes giving off a strong fighting will. “The story about Lady Beatrice being dead, and you were the one who caused it… Is it true?”

I know I would have to face this question sooner or later. But it still stings my heart as bad as ever, no matter how long of a time I’d let it pass.

I take a deep breath, gripping my sword tightly. I know that as soon as the answer comes out of my mouth, there’s no going back.

“… Yes, it’s true. Bea died, Pedro, and it was my fault.”

Immediately, Pedro’s sword thrusts towards my neck, along with a dreary, vengeful scream of pure agony. Pedro’s assault is fast and relentless, with flurries of stabs coming at me like a swarm of bees defending their hive.

“WHY, PETER? WHY DIDN’T YOU KEEP HER SAFE?”

Why, you say? Yeah, I wonder that myself every night. Why did I choose to solve it like that on that night? What would have been had I picked the other option? Would Bea still be alive now? Or would both of us die against Gabriel? But then again… would that really be a bad choice?

However, no matter how hard we try, we cannot change the past. It’s something that I have to accept. And Pedro, you have to do so as well.

“I can’t. I was weak and naïve, Pedro. And that’s why I won’t make that mistake again,” I deflect his flimsy sword with a slash from Excalibur, before sheathing both of my blades back, and offering my hand towards the young knight. “Join me, Pedro. The Royals are nothing but a plague that takes its roots deep inside this land. With your power, we can nip them from the bud and restore England to its original state.”

“… Join you, Peter?” Upon hearing my words, the only sound that comes from Pedro is a chuckle filled with irony and bitterness. “Join you? You killed off the one I love the most; you’re destroying the land I call home, and now you’re asking me to join you? Do you have a lick of self-respect left, Peter? You think that after everything that you’ve done, I’m just going to come forward and take your hand again like nothing happened?”

“Your home, Pedro?” I raise my eyebrows in doubt. “Since when did you call this accursed land your home? You must have known already, right? How you and Bea were treated like pawns despite being part of the Royal family! How you were thrown into an unfixable problem, only for you to take the blame for it! How can you still call all of that a home?”

“What would you know? This place is all I have! I wasn’t blessed with Lady Beatrice’s hand, Peter! She chose you! Even after all the time we spent together, in the end, she chose you instead of me! And did you know what I learned at the Palace? This position as Captain of the Rounds, she was going to give it to you when you guys returned! I have nothing except this land, Peter! You’re not taking it from me too!”

Pedro continues to charge at me like a wild bull. Gone is his normal prim and proper posture, the knight now goes in with the full intent to strike me down.

This is sad to see. Not only does he not realize his swordsmanship is not for heavy-hitting strikes thanks to being blinded by his rage, but Pedro’s movements themselves have also become sloppy and easy to hit. If I unsheathed any of my two blades, I could end him right here and now.

However, I don’t want to do that.

I’m not making the same mistake. I’ve already lost Bea this way; I’m not losing Pedro like this as well.

I block his rapier with Excalibur once more, pinning its blade down with my larger sheath.

“Wake up, Pedro! I told you already, I don’t wish to fight you!”

“I’m already wide awake, Peter! You’re the one still asleep if you can’t see it!”

Pedro continues to attack, but all of his strikes are weak. So pathetically weak. Why, Pedro? Why would you still choose to bang your head against a wall you can’t overcome? I thought that was my job! I thought you were better than this! Why…

“Why can’t you see the current gap between us?” Blocking him with Excalibur, I deliver a decisive slash with the still sheathed Galatine. There was no amplification from the latter, nor there was any earth magic involved with the former. I’m not in my Armed form, either. It’s just a plain and simple slash from a sheathed sword. And yet, it’s strong enough to break Pedro’s rapier in half.

As the sword breaks, so does the knight’s spirit. Pedro falls to his knees, bewildered by the string of events that has just transpired.

“Why…” mumbles the young man. “Why are you so strong…”

I don’t want to do this. I really don’t. But I have to. It’s the only way to wake him up from this stupid delusion of his.

I grab Pedro’s hair and forcefully pull his head up to face me.

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“Why, you ask? Because you’re weak, Pedro. The place you called home has made you into the pathetic man you are today.”

“Within these last two years, what did you do exactly?” I continue. “Sit in the comfort of your position, being fed nothing but lies and disbelief? Being taught fancy swordplay with no actual usage whatsoever? Turning a blind eye to the truth of the matter, all because you were too afraid to do the obvious digging yourself?

And what did I do within those two years, do you want to know? I saw my loved one pierced through the heart in front of me. I went through a war. I killed to live. I experienced the unholy mess this world has been with my own two eyes. And I still don’t have the right to call myself strong, so what does that make you?”

“… All that pain and suffering has made you sick in the head, Peter,” Pedro returns with a sharp glare. “I get it. You’ve seen more than I could ever hope to. You’ve experienced more pain than I could ever imagine. But is this really the best you can think of? Going back to your home for a riot, causing danger to innocent people just for your petty revenge? I thought you were better than this, Peter! Why did you choose this path of destruction, instead of joining me to fix the problems from the inside?”

“There is no inside, Pedro! It’s already too rotten to the core!”

“It’s no excuse for your current behavior? What would your family think?”

“They’re dead, Pedro!”

“I know! Did you know how pained I was when I received that notice! If only you were still here! If only you didn’t go on that stupid journey of yours! Two years out of this place, and for what? The lives of your friends, your family? Is all of that worth it in the end, Peter?”

“You think I didn’t regret my decision every day I woke up? You think I didn’t agonize myself to sleep every night? If I could bring things back to the way they were, I would! But I can’t, Pedro! No one can change the past! So all we can do is grit our teeth and trudge forward!”

“Even then! What good would more killing do?”

“Then you tell me! What good would sitting in place wagging our tails to the rulers do?”

“Better than your choice!”

Looking at his enraged and pained expression as Pedro struggles to escape my grip, I realize the two of us can never see eye to eye again. In just two years, our worlds are already so far apart…

Even if I know that no one can change the past, I can’t help but wonder… What would happen if I never chose to leave, or if he went with me that day?

But alas, I can’t hesitate. Not after having gone this far.

Rest well, my friend. Your life is still yours, but you’ll be sleeping for a while.

I conjure my Armed form. With the boost to my physical strength, I pick up Pedro again and throw him away to the opposite wall. Before his body crashes into the stone structure, however, a white figure has already caught him perfectly in their arms.

“Can you stand, Captain?” The figure spoke, lowering Pedro down.

“… Lord Michael!” The knight gasps in astonishment as he sees his savior’s silver hair.

After the two have readied themselves, the angel tosses over to Pedro an obsidian cross as black as the night sky. “Here, boy. A gift from the Queen.”

“Now,” pointing his blade at me, Michael shows a surprising smile. “I believe this is our first meeting, descendant of Arthur.”

“The Silver Blade, Bedivere of the Rounds…”

“To know of my old title, I wonder who told you that…” the angel, in a sudden turn of events, averts his gaze from me, instead looking at the ceiling above. And just as his prediction entailed, a blue circle spawns just in time, delivering the remaining players of this game to the field.

“I did,” answers Gabriel, sporting the kind of bloodlust I’ve never seen from him before. “Let’s settle this once and for all, Bedi.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Tristan.”

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