“Why?”
After entering the barn, Kassel stood blankly for a while, staring at the broken wall. The floor was scattered with splintered pieces of wood and dirt-streaked footprints. Kassel stepped over a scattered pile of straw, looking around. There were also traces of blood.
Kassel sank down on the straw. Despite skipping breakfast and feeling terribly hungry, he had no appetite at all.
It had been five days since Kassel crossed the border of Camort and entered Blue Gate. Until then, he wore the rank of Captain Wolf and had the honor of entering Aranthia. It was an exciting time, full of anticipation and hope. But that dream vanished with the rain the previous day.
Looking up at the clear sky, Kassel murmured anxiously, “Why does something bad always happen when it rains?”
☆ ☆ ☆
Five days ago.
In truth, the most excited person when they crossed the border wasn’t Kassel, but Azwin.
“To get to Nadium, you have to pass through five gates. Blue, Gray, Red, Gold, and White. Each gate’s name reflects the colors of the surrounding environment.”
Azwin was enthusiastic in her explanation about the gates. The inland structure and political system of Aranthia were not widely known. Thus, every word from Azwin was like an interesting fairy tale to Kassel. With the listener showing keen interest, it was only natural for the narrator to be excited.
Gerald interrupted from the side, saying, “Even after living in Aranthia for years, someone ignorant like me who doesn’t know the order of the gates became a White Wolf. So, it doesn’t matter if you don’t know such things.”
However, neither Kassel nor Azwin paid him any attention.
“Does Kassel seem to be underestimating me more and more?”
Gerald shared his concerns with Dunmel.
‘Wasn’t that your intention?’
Dunmel replied with a sigh, using sign language.
Azwin continued her lecture.
“The Blue Gate got its name because in the past, a blue river flowed in front of it. They say it was as vast as a sea. The Gray Gate was named for the color of the stones used to build its walls, which still retains a grayish hue. As for the Red Gate, its name comes from the surrounding red river.”
Looking at the stream flowing in front of the Blue Gate, Kassel said, “It doesn’t seem as vast as a sea.”
“That’s a story from hundreds or thousands of years ago, when Aranthia was first founded! A time when dragons still flew in the sky and people went on picnics to the Sky Mountains. Of course, I never witnessed it.”
Azwin said with a laugh.
“In that case, your description of the Red Gate is incorrect,” Sheyden corrected.
“No! It’s right. I heard it directly from the gatekeepers.”
“The vast river that flowed in front of the Blue Gate a thousand years ago is not this stream. On the other side, which we can’t see from here, only traces of the river remain. That’s the ‘Purembaro’ of the Blue Gate. Now it’s dried up.”
“The Purembaro river?”
Kassel asked.
“No. The word ‘baro’ is an ancient word for river, so you just call it Purembaro. I’m not sure about the Gray Gate being named for the color of its stones, but the Red Gate wasn’t named for its red river.”
Sheyden waited for Azwin’s objections to stop before continuing, “It’s not about the red river water, but the red blood that flowed. The name Red Gate was given during a war among wizards a thousand years ago. They say the blood of a dragon that died then stained the walls red for years. Its name before that, in ancient language, was ‘Yohu’ Gate, which translates to Yellow Gate now.”
“Why was it called Yellow Gate?”
“That area was a grain region. In the fall, the surroundings would turn yellow. It’s still a grain region, though.”
Irritated by being corrected, Azwin retorted, “Who told you that?”
“The Queen.”
With Sheyden’s short reply, Azwin instantly closed her mouth. Kassel couldn’t help but laugh at that sight.
Azwin once told him, ‘To me, the word “Queen” is the answer to every question and the spell that puts an end to any debate.’
Kassel spoke up.
“Well, the Queen is always right. Even the wise men of Lutia seek her counsel when they face challenges. A few years ago, during a conference in Carnelock regarding post-war reconstruction, it was the same. At first, they resisted inviting the ‘woman who claims to have lived for over a thousand years’ to the meeting. But in the end, all the kings from the different nations stated, ‘We cannot hold a conference without the Queen of Aranthia.’”
Kassel recalled the story about the Queen, a tale once shared by King Charles of Camort. The king cherished the singular meeting he had with her, holding it as a precious memory. From Azwin’s stories, the Queen sounded like a fairy who could only exist in fairy tales.
Kassel had also heard tales of the Queen from Count Enoa. Those were slightly tedious political stories about the continental conference in Carnelock following the conclusion of Lontamon’s continental war.
Even though Kassel had never witnessed it, he could easily imagine the scenario. The kings and representatives of each country would have initiated the conference, not willing to compromise their national interests. Camort would have aggressively demanded significant reparations, asserting their position as the nation that suffered the most. Both Irophis and Carnelock would have wanted to claim their roles in the eventual victory. Lontamon, being a major nation, would undoubtedly resist paying any reparations. The possibility of another war was always there; just because they had lost once didn’t mean they’d back down easily.
According to Count Enoa, there was also intense opposition to Aranthia. There was a palpable apprehension about Aranthia possibly leading the conference. It was also right after the Wolf Knights’ strength was revealed to the world and the first time the Queen had ventured outside her kingdom, so the representatives were tense even before the conference began.
‘I wasn’t present at the conference myself, but I heard the atmosphere was unique. What should have been a heated conference wrapped up smoothly within a few days, and throughout, the Queen hardly spoke. Interesting, isn’t it, Kassel?’
The Count remarked, an enigmatic tone in his voice.
‘A conference, where representatives from all over the continent came to discuss matters of power and it concluded without any friction in just a few days? In Lurun, they can fight for a month over a single field.’
‘Exactly, well pointed out. But that’s how it was. Such a conference with many kings and captains wrapped up in days. And usually, once such conferences end, kings and their ministers debate whether they secured their interests properly, what losses they might have incurred, and so forth. But in this case, everyone’s priority after the conference was to secure another meeting with the Queen of Aranthia.’
‘Even King Charles wishes to meet her again.’
‘Isn’t it strange, Kassel? Usually, people who’ve never met someone hold an idealized image of them. But with Queen Sanadiel, those who have met her seem to be more enchanted than those who haven’t.’
Azwin often openly stated that the Queen was the second person she admired most in the world. This was, in some ways, to emphasize the ‘first person’ she admired. With the Blue Gate nearing, Kassel, lost in these thoughts, asked,
“Azwin, you mentioned that the person you admire the most is one of the retired White Wolves, right? The name was…”
“Irine.”
“Right, Irine. If one is Master Quain, the Queen’s guardian knight, and another is Meylumil who assisted us, then who is the other retired White Wolf? You did mention there were four, right?”
It seemed like a trivial question, but all five remained silent. Sheyden looked to Azwin, a puzzled expression on his face. Even Azwin only wet her lips, not offering an answer. Given that she had even discussed political secrets that were not supposed to be shared externally, this wasn’t because it was a secret.
“You don’t know?”
It was Gerald, who had been using his whistle to alleviate boredom, who replied in a drowsy voice.
“Didn’t I tell you before when I explained about the Wolf Knights that I didn’t know?”
“Oh, I thought you were the only one who didn’t know.”
It was a trivial response, but Gerald stopped whistling with a hurt expression.
“Gerald has always been indifferent to knightly affairs.”
Azwin mused, stroking her chin.
“I don’t know the name of the other one. I barely remembered the name Meylumil. It’s not really a secret, but no one bothers to teach it. Among the current Wolf Knights, some participated in the war ten years ago. But annoyingly, they wouldn’t tell me the name of that one person. Anyway, the strongest among the White Wolves is Irine, so it doesn’t really matter.”
Stopping in front of the Blue Gate, Kassel asked,
“How would Master Quain feel about that statement?”
“What about it? The Master is the third person I admire the most. So he would be pleased.”
“What about the nameless one-armed swordsman who taught you when you were young?”
“Fourth!”
“And the fifth?”
Kassel teasingly pressed on. Azwin alighted from her horse and wrapped her arms around Sheyden’s waist, replying,
“Sheyden! It’s rare to find a man who treats me as bluntly as he does.”
“And the sixth?”
“It’s my captain! I admire his audacity to challenge me to arm wrestling and lose!”
Kassel couldn’t help but laugh at Azwin’s hearty laughter. Gerald grumbled from behind,
“So am I the seventh?”
“You’re not even in the rankings!”
The two bantered, and Kassel habitually stepped in to break up their playful squabble. The other three stayed out of it, as they always did.
In truth, Kassel was overwhelmed with happiness just by engaging in these playful arguments and casual banter. Since coming to Aranthia, Kassel no longer had to address them formally, and he could speak to them as if they were friends. The other five preferred this too.
“Ah, the White Wolves have returned.”
The gatekeeper of the Blue Gate rushed over upon spotting them.
“We’re back. Any messages left for us?”
Gerald confidently took a seat and asked. He already seemed to treat the place as if it were his home, ordering drinks. Sheyden promptly canceled the order.
“You make your own drink. The Wolf Knights’ privilege only extends to free gate passage. Anything more is an abuse of power!”
The elderly gatekeeper smiled warmly, extending his hand.
“No, no. Hosting the White Wolves is something I wish to do. It brings me joy to see the ever-changing White Wolves. Also, there’s a message for you when the White Wolves return. It’s from Master Quain.”
With a gesture from the gatekeeper, a young soldier, who had been excitedly observing the White Wolves, quickly retrieved the letter from the upper level.
“So, this place also handles mail?”
While Sheyden read the letter, Kassel sat next to Gerald and asked,
“Ah, I didn’t explain the most important thing. Whenever I skip the lecture, it always turns out like this.”
“Let’s see how good you are.”
Azwin sat in front. Clearing his throat, Gerald began in a deep voice,
“The Gate isn’t for immigration or any special screening. Though its original purpose has evolved, the role of each gate is to guard the nearby villages. The rule of the gate is to allow anyone to pass, be it a fugitive or a criminal, as long as they’re not an invading army.”
Gerald explained proudly. Sheyden, who had been reading the letter, chuckled at the explanation. The gatekeeper seemed a bit embarrassed, hesitating to intervene.
Sheyden said,
“You may speak. I’ll protect you.”
The gatekeeper cautiously began,
“Well, we don’t let criminals pass. As you can see, if someone like the Hell’s Axe, wanted from Carnelock, gets caught here, we detain and hand them over to Carnelock.”
Azwin laughed boisterously.
“Haha, Hell’s Axe! A better name than Fire Axe.”
Embarrassed, Gerald just sipped his drink.
To cover Gerald’s blunder, Kassel quickly changed the subject,
“So, anyone can leave a message here?”
The elderly gatekeeper kindly explained.
“If anyone knew there was a letter here, they would certainly use our services! At least, we keep the letter for three years, more than enough time to deliver it. Of course, it’s rare for a letter to be stored that long,” the man mused.
“Then even retired knights might leave messages here. Perhaps…”
The gatekeeper quickly caught on to what Kassel was hinting at and responded, “One of them, Master Quain, does maintain direct contact using our Blue Gate. The name Meylumil might ring a bell for you. In fact, not too long ago, one of the letters he sent was dispatched to Nadium.”
He said this with a touch of pride.
Meylumil and I hadn’t been together for long since that incident. Loyal and the rest had immediately set off to Denmoju to meet Latilda. Loyal was the one who missed Meylumil the most because of the short time they spent together. Hence, upon hearing the gatekeeper’s words, Loyal asked in surprise, “Did Lumil come here before us? Does he visit often?”
“About once every six months? While this letter was sent through someone else, he usually comes in person to receive his letters. Do you wish to leave a message for him?”
Loyal pondered for a moment but then simply shook his head. “No. We’ll meet again when the time is right.”
Sheyden relayed that Quain’s letter was just a casual greeting. As the soldiers from the gate gathered around to observe the White Wolves, Kassel finally asked what he truly wanted to know.
“If Meylumil uses this place, do the other Wolf Knights use it too?”
“Not usually, but it’s possible. Wait, wasn’t that the case?” The old gatekeeper turned to ask a younger soldier, seemingly struggling with his memory. But they too seemed unsure. Kassel discreetly glanced at Azwin.
“Azwin, just a thought. Maybe if you leave a message for the one you admire, she might see it?”
Almost shrieking in realization, Azwin exclaimed, “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?”
She quickly scribbled a note and handed it to the gatekeeper. Meanwhile, Gerald teased, “Writing a love letter, are we?” But Azwin, her face flushed, eagerly pleaded with the gatekeeper, her hands tightly grasping his.
“You must deliver it, you must!”
The sight of the young and beautiful Azwin pressing her forehead close in earnest entreaty left the old soldier flustered.
“If she comes looking, I shall do so.”
Pouring himself another cup of tea, Gerald asked, “Are we resting here tonight?”
“No, we must move on. We’ve delayed too much already,” Sheyden said, cutting off any further discussion.
“It’s not as if Nadium will crumble without us. What’s the rush?”
Frustrated from days of continuous travel, Gerald grumbled, “We’ve got fifty folks waiting to see our month-long rusted sword skills.”
Sheyden didn’t wait for a response and left.
“Hey! They’ve been idle for a month too, you know.”
Gerald packed his half-unpacked belongings, grumbling all the while. In the interim, Azwin was still pleading with the gatekeeper to ensure her letter was delivered. The gatekeeper could only chuckle, thinking of the inconvenience of remembering a visitor who might come years later.
After passing through the Blue Gate, Kassel looked back at the now wide-open door.
‘Aranthia, for real, begins now.’
A mix of light excitement and worry crossed his mind.
‘I’ll soon meet the Wolf Knights, right?’
Sheyden had mentioned there might be some minor hiccups with the Council recognizing him as captain and the Wolves being slightly troublesome. But, no matter how dire the circumstances, nothing would be as life-threatening as in Camort, and he was advised to act as he wished without worries.
‘Right. No need to worry. I’ve survived worse. As long as I have my friends, we can overcome any immense challenges ahead.’
Kassel truly believed this.
☆ ☆ ☆
Kassel had been repeatedly told by Gerald that he had no talent in swordsmanship, yet he still endeavored to learn the blade. Whenever they camped or took short breaks, they took turns teaching him the ways of the sword. In some ways, it was a captain’s order, and they couldn’t simply ignore it.
After analyzing the progress Kassel was making, the five White Wolves concluded that the most suitable weapon for him was undoubtedly the sword.
“I keep saying this, but Loyal has the cleanest stance when holding a sword. At first glance, he might seem like he’s just standing there cluelessly, but every detail of his foot placement has meaning.”
Azwin explained, positioning Loyal next to her for demonstration. At which, Loyal asked, “My stance has that kind of meaning?”
“Quiet.”
Azwin was diligent in adjusting every joint of Kassel.
“But it’ll be difficult for you, Kassel, to learn all that. Just imitate it, so that an enemy can’t distinguish who’s stronger between Loyal and you. That’s the most practical approach.”
Loyal had many complaints about the way Azwin taught.
“Holding a stance is meaningless. The only important thing is the posture to strike the opponent. Look at Gerald. His stance may be messy, but it often confuses the opponent.”
“It’s because Gerald intentionally makes it seem messy!” Azwin asserted strongly.
Gerald later consulted with Dunmel.
“Are they mocking or praising me?”
‘I can’t tell if I don’t see it.’
Dunmel responded with hand signals.
After a heated debate over stance, Azwin finally proposed a compromise to Loyal, “Then you teach self-defense. I’ll just teach the flashy stances.” Loyal considered this carefully.
Surprisingly, Kassel wasn’t bothered by the fact that they were deciding things without involving him, the main party in question.
Loyal spoke reluctantly, “I hate teaching. I’m not even good at it.”
Kassel was taken aback by Loyal’s admission. Loyal continued, “But I hate it more if the captain has wrong knowledge.”
“You’re so full of affection, it’s suffocating,” Azwin snapped back. The decision was made: Azwin would teach stance, and Loyal would teach swordplay.
At first, Kassel felt honored, but later, it was intimidating. After all, two of the potentially best swordsmen in the world were going to teach him.
‘Maybe I can become a great swordsman too?’
This faint hope was brutally shattered on the second day after passing through the Blue Gate by Gerald’s words.
“You’ve improved compared to before, Captain. But given the intensity of your training, your progress is really slow…”
Kassel stopped his descending blade mid-strike, and Azwin glared at Gerald.
“It’s rude to say that to someone who’s trying so hard.”
Realizing the despair on Kassel’s face, Gerald quickly responded, “No, no. You’re just progressing slowly, but you’re steadily getting a stable stance. Ignore the noise from someone like me and keep going.”
“‘Someone like me’? I know very well how exceptional you are,” Kassel remarked, wiping sweat from his brow. “I need a break.”
Kassel trudged over to a distant rock and sat down. Azwin gave Gerald a threatening gesture, looking furious. Gerald just shrugged.
Sheyden, who was feeding barley to the horses, observed this and brought Kassel’s horse over.
“Azwin, I’ll take the captain out for a bit. Wait here.”
“Are you going on a date without me? Where to?”
“The Nenadros Plains. It’s about a half-hour from here.”
“Why there?”
“There are two places a captain of the Wolf Knights must visit in Aranthia. One is the Gold Gate, and the other is there.”
Both Azwin and Kassel looked puzzled at Sheyden, but he didn’t explain. Instead, he brought the horse to Kassel.
“Get on, Kassel.”
Unable to refuse Sheyden’s meaningful smile, Kassel did as he was told. They sped off to the north at a brisk pace.
Watching them depart, Gerald asked Azwin, “Nenadros Plains? What’s there?”
“I don’t know. It’s unlike Sheyden to so blatantly reveal his secrets. There must be something going on,”
Azwin asked Loyal, “Loyal! As a captain of the Wolf Knights, shouldn’t you know something? You were a former captain, after all!”
“Nenadros Plains? Sounds familiar, but what is it?”
Loyal tilted his head in confusion.
Dunmel intervened through sign language, ‘Master once mentioned this. The Nenadros Plains were where the saddest battle in Aranthia took place.’
Only then did Azwin nod in realization. Gerald and Loyal still looked clueless. Azwin elaborated further.
“Who do you think is the greatest hero of Lontamon’s continental conquest war? Everyone points to Master Quain. But Master himself denies it. It wasn’t Captain Deradul of the Dragon Knights, who ultimately defeated Lontamon’s vast army, and it certainly wasn’t the White Wolves. The true hero, one that knights like us should forever hold in our hearts, was actually our enemy! That’s what Master said. Sheyden probably wanted to tell Kassel about him…”
Gerald frowned.
“Well, then, we should all just go together!”
“Right!”
Azwin agreed.
Dunmel communicated through sign language, ‘If you two go, you’ll mix in some weird lectures again.’
Sheyden and Kassel raced their horses up a steep hill. The hill ended in a sheer cliff. Sheyden halted his horse just before the edge. Following closely, Kassel, who stood next to Sheyden, gasped at the breathtaking view that unfolded beyond the hill.
It was a vast plain, so expansive it was almost exhilarating.
‘He probably brought me here to uplift my spirits. It feels liberating.’
Kassel took a deep breath. Sheyden pointed to the horizon and spoke,
“This is the Nenadros Plains. It’s where the last battle of the Excelon Knights took place.”
“This place?”
Kassel recalled a history buried in the Aranthia war epic, not well-known.
Lontamon’s final war. The retreat of the Excelon Knights from the Gold Gate battle was just the beginning of the many wars that erupted within Aranthia. The story was almost legendary, about how just fifty knights managed to decimate an army of three hundred. But in the end, it wasn’t the Wolf Knights who defeated Lontamon’s massive army of over a hundred thousand.
“You know?”
“I’ve heard that the Excelon Knights were annihilated somewhere in Aranthia. But what I know seems a bit different.”
“Want to share what you know?”
Sheyden asked as if testing him.
“Hmm, from the looks of the war, after the Gold Gate battle, the Aranthia army and the Wolf Knights were just holding off Lontamon’s forces, right? In the meantime, Irophis and Carnelock dramatically formed a coalition army and launched a joint attack. The final battle was actually when the retreating large army from Aranthia faced the attack from the Dragon Knights led Carnelock forces at the border… That’s all I know. But this isn’t the exact location of that final battle. We passed the border a while ago.”
“Yes. There was a year between the Gold Gate battle and the final war you just mentioned, filled with many battles that weren’t fully recorded. So, it’s not surprising you don’t know. I too wasn’t aware of these details until I earned the Wolf title.”
“So, the place where the Excelon Knights were annihilated wasn’t the last battle but the battle right here on the Nenadros Plains?”
“Correct. This is where Captain Welch died. Many believe that Captain Welch died in the Gold Gate battle against the Wolf Knights, and that he was taken down by Master Quain.”
Sheyden continued with a bitter smile, “It’s true that the Master struck down Captain Welch at the Gold Gate. With the light of the short sword.”
Kassel instinctively reached for the short sword at his waist. The miraculous event of that day still vividly came to his mind. Sheyden paused momentarily, perhaps recalling the same memory, then continued speaking.
“In our case, the fight ended dramatically with that light, right? But at the Gold Gate back then, there wasn’t such a climactic conclusion. The story got distorted because people wanted something explosive as a climax, with everything explained by that. Welch, thrown off his horse with the glow of Aranthia’s sacred sword! They’d probably find it bland if, after hearing that, the story continued with, ‘However, Welch continued to fight even after that.'”
“Every story ends either with the hero or the villain dying. In all tales, Welch was the villain…”
Kassel’s voice trailed off, a somber feeling taking hold.
Sheyden spoke up, “Welch might have been defeated in that battle and by Master Quain as well, but he didn’t die. In fact, he quickly regrouped after his retreat from the Gold Gate. The Wolf Knights, as legends say, toppled the Excelon Knights? No. I’ve never seen a single Wolf senior claim the Gold Gate battle as a great victory. Our seniors always prepared for the next battle, fearing they might lose this time.”
Kassel, deeply engrossed in Sheyden’s story, clenched his fist.
“Captain Welch continued to shine in many battles after, defeating or killing many of the Wolf Knights. But it wasn’t just Welch. Many Excelon Knights died at the hands of our seniors, and many from our side died at the hands of Excelon. If we look at the numbers, one could argue that the Wolf Knights were definitely more skilled. But it wasn’t a fight where the Wolf Knights overpowered Excelon with superior skills, as it was portrayed.”
The Nenadros plains were windy. The relentless wind blew towards the cliff where the two men stood. As Sheyden spoke, his hair occasionally poked at his eyes, causing him to blink, but it seemed as though he was looking back in time.
“It was the desperate resistance of a small knighthood from a small country called Aranthia. I think that’s more impressive. But historians concluded with ‘The Excelon Knights were defeated by the Wolf Knights at the Gold Gate.’ Especially, all of Captain Welch’s glory was overshadowed by that one defeat, and he bore only the burden of that loss.”
Sheyden, holding the reins firmly, mounted his horse.
“Kassel, you’d understand, right? Being a captain, bearing the stigma of a loser, responsible for the lives of a hundred thousand soldiers, and leading a fight where defeat is certain… Imagine the immense pressure. Even leading our White Wolves, representing just fifty of us, feels overwhelming. And even after his defeat at the Gold Gate, Welch relentlessly tormented the Wolf Knights. In some ways, with subordinates far less skilled than the Wolf Knights, he managed to fight without giving up.”
Kassel, who respected the Excelon Knights, felt a growing admiration for Welch. He even felt exhilarated, like a young child.
“One of our seniors once said about Welch’s leadership that if they met on the road and fought, five guys attacking at once would be easily defeated by him alone. But if Welch was there, even four Wolves would be needed… Master said something similar. If there were only three hundred Excelon Knights, everything would have ended at the Gold Gate. But because of Welch, the war lasted a year… The Master blamed himself for not delivering the decisive blow to Welch that day.”
Sheyden pointed towards the Nenadros plains and said, “And so, Welch fought till the very end and finally met his demise here. It was a pitiful death, so much so that it might have been better if he had lost dramatically to Master Quain. He resisted to the last, surrounded by countless soldiers from Carnelock, and was killed by hundreds of arrows. No one sang songs in his memory, no one valued his death properly. He was merely portrayed as the frontman of a wicked army.”
Kassel had a fondness for the Excelon Knights just as much as the Wolf Knights. His heart fluttered with excitement when he learned that Falcon of Camort had once been a member of the Excelon Knights. After hearing Sheyden’s story and looking down at the barren plains, an inexplicable ache gnawed at his chest.
“Kassel,” Sheyden began, “Master Quain, while he was the captain of the Wolf Knights, could never acknowledge himself as captain. Whenever he looked at Captain Welch, he felt so insignificant compared to the title he held.”
Sheyden gripped Kassel’s shoulder. His firm hold felt reassuring, as if it were bolstering Kassel’s entire being.
“Don’t be so anxious about learning swordsmanship. Well, you should at least learn some basic self-defense. Everyone just wants to help you. There’s no need to feel guilty if you can’t meet their expectations.”
“Is that how it appeared?”
Sheyden responded with a nod.
Looking at the calluses on his palm, Kassel replied, “It’s just that without practicing how to swing a sword, I feel vulnerable when I’m alone.”
“Keep training, even if it’s slow. No one among us will get annoyed teaching you. And one thing you should never forget!” Sheyden held up a finger, “Your weapon isn’t your sword. It’s the fangs of the White Wolves.”
“I’ll never forget that,” Kassel said with a smile, taking in the view of the Nenadros plains one more time. He felt as though he could almost smell the blood from the tragic day of battle when Welch had fallen. Now he understood why Sheyden had brought him to this distant place. And he was grateful for the gesture.
“By the way, everyone says my swordsmanship is terrible. How bad is it?”
Kassel asked as he began following Sheyden.
Sheyden tilted his head, pondering. “Do you want the honest answer?”
Fearing what might come next, Kassel quickly waved his hands.
“No. I think I’d rather hear Gerald’s exaggerated analysis.”
“I think so too.”
He believed that he would continue to travel leisurely to Aranthia and learn a lot through his friends. He could not have imagined the situation that would unfold after a downpour three days later.
Of course, neither had Sheyden. He wanted to slowly teach Kassel how remarkable a person Master Quain was. That was partly why he emphasized Captain Welch so much in his story.
Sheyden wasn’t the type to praise or admire someone he had never met, like Azwin did. He only judged those he had met and experienced firsthand. And at that moment, he had no doubt that there was no teacher greater than Quain, no matter who he met in the future.
Their friends were waiting for them in the same place they had left them. Azwin waved and asked, “Feeling better now?”
“It was great,” Kassel replied. Seeing Kassel genuinely happy made Sheyden feel a little better too.
“If I had known you were going there, I would’ve joined you!” Azwin exclaimed.
“Why don’t you go and come back then? We’ll be on our way. We’re following the main road anyway, so we won’t miss each other,” Sheyden said.
“What’s the fun in going alone?”
Of course, Azwin had no idea that the retired White Wolf Irine, whom she so wanted to meet, would be visiting the plains with a bounty hunter named Jaymer in three days. If she had known, she would have willingly camped on those plains and waited for three days.
–TL Notes–
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