Sword Pilgrim

Felice du Evadre Valus.

The surname Valus was originally for commoners who didn’t have a surname, or for those who wished to abandon their surname and become sons of God.

Valus, after Valtherus.

Felice was a talented man who’d started out as a commoner and risen to become a Master by cultivating his swordsmanship to incredible heights.

His skills had deteriorated a lot with age, but even now, even against another Master honoured with the epithet of the Guardian Sword, which only the best knight of Carpe could possess, he would surely be victorious.

There was no doubt that he was a legendary figure of Carpe, and of the Order of Valtherus.

But such a great person –

Why did he bother to visit him personally?

Callius wondered.

“There’s someone interested in you. A woman who is my old friend, my colleague, and who I think of as my family.”

“You’re talking about Lady Sullivian.”

“Oh, did you already know?”

Who didn’t?

The special relationship between the lady of high lineage who’d later secluded herself inside the Church, and the commoner knight, was a tale shocking and beautiful enough to be endlessly talked about.

Although, as he had risen to the throne of pope at a very young age –

Things had never come to fruition between the two.

“But why would Lady Sullivian…”

He’d never had any contact with her.

Why was the pope trying to make them meet?

“Because she treats that kid, Esther, like a daughter. Or maybe a granddaughter…”

The pope glanced at Callius.

He was famously a piece of trash, one of those aristocrats who had severely inappropriate tastes in women.

However, the recent rumours were changing the young man’s image a bit.

‘His origin is noble, and his position is high. And with swordsmanship like that, he’s perfect for a son-in-law.'

Surely Sullivian wouldn’t be able to easily refuse meeting her future son-in-law, the guy who’d marry Esther, who was the apple of her eye.

That was the pope's plan.

Callius was unaware of the specifics, but he understood the general situation.

‘Are you trying to meet Sullivian using me as bait?'

Anyway, it didn't matter.

Meeting Sullivian, or establishing a relationship with the pope, were good things.

Callius also wanted to meet Sullivian once.

"Very well."

“Really? And to think I’d heard that you were really inflexible and narrow-minded!"

“Those are just rumours.”

“Indeed, I saw your excellent performance at the Sword Dance Society. Hmm. How about we take a walk for a while?”

"Alright."

Walking through the castle hallways –

The pope talked a lot.

Mostly about how he’d fallen for Sullivian.

And the reason why he had to become pope, and how their relationship had been cut off because of that.

When it was time to die of old age, regrets came flooding in, and he tried to restore their relationship, but there was nothing he could do because she wouldn’t meet him at all.

"I don’t have time. When I was young, time was all I had – no. Even then, I was always busy with this excuse and that excuse, and I prioritized other things. At the time, I thought my course was right.”

However, afterward, things changed.

“It’s like training the sword. Training isn't just something you do when you have time, it's something you have to somehow make time for. I should've made time for her, too…”

A story of regrets, and matters left unfinished.

Callius listened silently as he walked down the aisle beside the pope.

It was strange.

A story he’d made up.

The feeling of hearing the complex web of relationships that had emerged out of the strokes of his own pen, was truly…

‘There’s no way to describe it.'

However, he didn't ponder for long.

He was determined not to be entangled into the stories, events and characters of this world.

Warier of that than anything else, Callius knew he had to stay detached from it all.

Even if they made him angry. Even if they made him sad.

In the end, his cup would only be filled with the bitterness of contempt and self-blame.

‘Jervain's blood runs cold.'

He had to keep it cold and implacable, like a blizzard, never letting it heat.

That was how he protected his consciousness, his very sense of self.

“Hey, I’m asking just in case, but you aren’t married, right?”

"No."

“Okay then.”

“But I have a daughter.”

“!!”

Thump.

The pope's steps stopped.

His age-wrinkled face was filled with surprise.

Not married, but has a daughter? Is this guy for real? That was written all over his face.

But soon he shook his head.

“A man shouldn’t run from responsibility. You’re doing better than me, at least. Is the child your foster daughter?”

“She’s my blood daughter.”

“… I see."

Tsk, tsk.

The pope could only click his tongue.

“How about we keep it a secret from Sullivian…”

“I can’t.”

"I know, right? I was just thinking out loud. It can't be helped, I suppose. Does Esther know?”

“… She knows."

But why? Callius swallowed back the question that almost escaped his mouth.

“A man and a woman should figure things out between themselves. There’s no use in us old folks meddling. But I'm surprised that you have a daughter. How old is she?"

“Twelve. She’ll be thirteen this winter.”

“… How old are you again?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Gah… this guy! Scumbag!”

Callius stayed silent.

Because the pope sounded really surprised, rather than contemptuous.

And frankly, he looked a bit envious.

“I want to see her sometime. Is she in the North? Or with her mother’s family?”

“She lives with me at my villa.”

"Alright. I’ll visit one day. Since you have a daughter, shouldn't I give her my blessing?"

"Thank you."

The blessing of the sword from the pope himself.

The words sounded grand, but it was only a confirmation on whether or not somebody had a talent for the sword.

If there was some physical complication, it would be healed, and the pope would also pass down a little bit of swordsmanship, so it’d be a great opportunity for Emily.

“By the way, your swordsmanship is pretty good.”

"Thank you."

“Stella’s swordsmanship… I won't ask how you got your hands on it."

“…”

“Are you teaching your daughter?”

“I’m trying not to teach her.”

"Why?"

Because he’d concluded that it wasn’t necessary.

“Stella’s swordsmanship is basically an art made for the weak.”

She’d been in the position of the underdog.

Raging Flower Wave, White Haze. And even Other Shore Flower.

Her art was a way for the weak to become strong.

That was the essence of the Silver Flower Wave Sword.

So he didn't teach her.

"Oh?"

“My daughter isn’t weak. She's a natural genius. Silver Flower Wave Sword doesn't match her. It’d only harm her.”

The reason Emily had been weak for most of her life was simply because her divine blood had been blocked.

Everything else about her was excellent.

Including her diligence, her perseverance. Her desire to become strong.

So it wasn’t necessary.

On the contrary, because she was too good, the Silver Flower Wave Sword wasn’t suitable for Emily.

“Hmm…”

The pope stopped and turned to Callius with a serious face.

“The request I will make now is me speaking as the pope. Will you listen?”

"Yes."

“Saint Stella’s swordsmanship must somehow be kept alive in Carpe. You’re also a member of the Order, so it doesn't matter right now, but if you die, it’ll be lost as things stand."

“…”

“Teach it. Pass it down.”

It was an irresistible command.

It was also understandable.

“Who can I teach?”

"Well. Who am I to decide that? When the time comes, you should teach it to a child you take a fancy to. Or, it doesn’t even have to be a member of the Church.”

"Then…"

“How about studying it with the queen?”

Flinch.

Teaching it to the queen?

It was something he’d never considered.

“… You really mean the queen?”

"Count Jervain."

"… Yes."

“The queen is in an infinitely precarious position. Death lurks for her at every corner. I'm alive right now and so is Sullivian, but who knows what’ll happen after we’re gone. Us old-timers can’t last forever, you know?”

There was no reason to refuse.

Continuing the legacy of the Silver Flower Wave Sword was something that the Church of Valtherus had to ensure at all costs. Callius, as somebody who belonged to the Church, couldn’t reject this order.

‘Then the queen will become my disciple, won’t she?'

To be honest, he didn't like the idea of freely sharing all the knowledge of the Silver Flower Wave Sword that he’d worked so hard to earn.

However, the idea of having a master-disciple relationship with the queen was indeed an attractive proposition.

He wouldn’t have her under his thumb or anything, but it’d still net him a lot of influence, and it’d come handy when things went south against the empire in the future.

“I beseech you.”

"Yes, understood."

If it was the queen, Clara, she would be suitable for the art that was called the Silver Flower Wave Sword.

Afterwards.

The pope and Callius arrived at Sullivian's residence. As soon as they appeared, the knights guarding the entrance drew their swords as one.

“We’ll never let you in!”

“Ha ha ha, try and stop me!”

“…”

Callius couldn't help but be stunned.

The knights who dared to draw their swords at the pope, and the pope who fired off such a rejoinder in turn, all seemed to be very familiar with this situation.

Was this really alright?

It was completely different from what Callius had expected, who had thought things would stop at the level of a mild quarrel.

Heedless of Callius’ tumultuous emotions, the pope moved forward with a smile.

Evading the swords of the knights as if he did this every day.

With his scabbard, he tapped their thighs, and the knights’ legs relaxed like newborn deer, leaving them collapsed on the ground.

‘Amazing.'

That was the pope's swordsmanship.

The Five Afflictions Sword (五壞劍).

A swordsmanship that destroyed the opponent’s five visceral organs.

Although it had certain similarities to the Other Shore Flower, this swordsmanship was even more direct – aiming to penetrate the body and lay waste to the circulation of life.

None of these knights were weak. They were, each and every single one of them, better than Allen.

But in front of the pope, they quickly collapsed, as if they were no more than children.

“Kahahaha! Try harder!”

"N-, no… Impossible!"

"Please…”

They even begged, but the pope didn't care.

“No one can stop me today!”

“…”

Such a majestically unstoppable advance was indeed fitting for the greatest of the Order of Valtherus, but the fact that this was a blatant home invasion of the man’s ex kind of spoiled it as far as Callius was concerned.

As the pope barged in though the front door, a large man came into view. He enthusiastically drew his sword as if he’d been waiting for this very moment.

“Wait, why are you here?”

The giant knight, covered in precious darksteel armour, hefted his sword.

“I received a request to stop you, Lord Pope.”

“It’s typical of that granny to be so thorough. But that’s why I fell for her!”

Callius was already feeling a touch dizzy.

Encountering people trying to stop him and the pope from breaking through was one thing.

But the conversations during the fights that made all this sound like a regular occurrence, a routine affair even, tested the bounds of his common sense.

“Jervain, take a good look. This is why the Church made me pope.”

“I won’t hold back!!”

As the knight standing in front of the pope raised his sword high, darkness suddenly surged.

‘Crazy.'

Callius had been wondering who the huge knight might be, but seeing that ability, he knew.

The Dark Night – the ability of the Black Knight, Leviathan.

Among the Five Masters, he occupied the last place.

Claaang-!!

The whole area was shrouded in darkness, and a black stream of air began to gather in front of them.

Condensing into a red-eyed horse made up of black smoke.

A truly spectacular sight.

‘That's… I can't win against that.'

Callius sighed as he looked at the black horse.

Even if he was only slightly below the Five Stars, and had fought the saintess candidate to a draw, a Master was still a completely different species in comparison.

Seeing the black horse screeching as if it was about to trample on everything in sight, the only thing he could think of was to somehow hold on.

“Too slow!”

However, the pope kept walking as if he was on a leisurely stroll, avoiding the black horse, avoiding Leviathan's sword, and then pulled out his own sword and stabbed at a single point.

Boom-!

A ripple spread from the point where the pope’s sword had stabbed.

Crack. Craaack!! Crackackackackle!!!

The darkness summoned by the Black Knight shattered like nothing more than a fragile pane of glass.

Thoom!

Leviathan knelt down on one knee.

He’d been defeated in one blow.

‘…'

Strong.

The pope was so incredibly strong.

“Come on, let’s go. And you, stop with this kind of nonsense. What’s with this obsession about fighting one-on-one? Idiot. Do you think that’ll work on the battlefield against another Master?”

The pope, who slapped Leviathan on the head with his scabbard, urged Callius to move.

Callius left the kneeling form of Leviathan, the Black Knight, a famous and revered Master, behind and continued after the pope.

“Be careful from now on. That black guy wasn't the problem. The real thing starts now. Even for me, that granny’s alchemy is quite problematic.”

At the same time as the pope finished talking –

Clunk.

There was the sound of some sort of mechanical device.

Thu-thu-thu-thud.

Whiiiiiish.

Along with those bizarre sounds –

Suddenly the landscape changed.

“Ugh, a circle of illusion? Did you change the formation already!? I thought you were going to do it soon, but there’s a limit to how diligent you can be!!”

Suddenly, the figure of the pope was engulfed in a ray of light and vanished.

“…?”

Callius frowned and tried to pull his sword out of subspace.

But soon he saw a slightly different landscape. A room.

A fireplace was burning merrily at one side.

Its soft red light illuminated the room, and brought into focus the figure of an old woman lying atop the bed, reading a book with her glasses on, an incense burner at her side.

“Come closer.”

She was of royal descent, a cousin of the current monarch, and a cardinal of the Church.

A legendary paladin and an alchemist. Called the Godmother by those of the Church.

Sullivian von Olide Bright. ‘Godmother' Sullivian.

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