They say time flies like an arrow.

I never really thought about it, but now I felt it keenly.

I’d only blinked a few times, and somehow two whole days had slipped by.

“Feeling any better?”

Shushruta looked down at me.

“You slept like a corpse. Amazing, in a way, how you can sleep so steadfastly. Remarkable, in its own sense.”

...This cat. Her way of talking was getting stranger by the day.

Where was she picking this stuff up?

“You must be hungry! Devil, have some mushrooms!”

Linda shoved a fistful of brightly colored mushrooms against my cheek.

Shushruta smacked her hand aside.

“Get those away. You’d feed poison to a man who just woke up?”

“They’re tasty!”

She scrambled to pick up the fallen mushrooms, pouting.

Shushruta ignored her, rummaged in her pack, and pressed a bundle of dried fruit against the other side of my face.

“Here, eat this instead.”

“Mushrooms are better! And healthy!”

“I said, keep them away. Eat them yourself if you love them so much.”

“But the Devil likes them too!”

Pinned between the two of them, my cheeks squished, I glanced around helplessly.

Clip-clop, clatter—

Outside, hooves drummed a steady rhythm, and carriage wheels rattled pleasantly.

Inside, it was fairly comfortable.

Across from me sat Sir Walpole. Linda, seated beside him, was leaning forward to jam mushrooms at my face, while Shushruta, seated next to me, shoved fruit from the other side.

And me? I was sprawled out along one side of the seat, using Shushruta’s legs as a pillow.

[Awake at last?]

“Yes, Master.”

[Pathetic. Slept long enough to rot.]

“Seems so.”

Shushruta shoved Linda’s mushrooms away again.

“See? He’s already babbling nonsense. Get rid of those weird fungi.”

“Stop that!”

I pushed away both fruit and mushrooms, my throat rasping.

“Water first. I’m parched.”

“Here.”

Walpole handed me a waterskin. I drank deep, emptying it in one go.

“Ahh...”

Handing it back, I felt almost alive again.

And as soon as thirst left, hunger came calling.

“Got jerky?”

“Yes. Here.”

I chewed steadily while speaking to the Heavenly Demon.

Master.

[What?]

My mouth was too busy with meat, so I used thoughts instead.

Did I really sleep two days straight?

[Yes. Like the dead.]

Hmph.

Strange. I hadn’t thought I was that tired.

I remembered—vaguely—some wild dream, but it had vanished from memory.

I flexed my arms, my legs, my neck. After lying useless for two days, I should’ve felt stiff, sluggish. But no.

On the contrary, I felt sharp. Perfectly refreshed.

Almost... as if I’d shed something.

Like a bird breaking free of its shell.

Like I could spread wings and fly.

Without a thought, I planted a foot on the window ledge and leaned half my body out.

“What are you doing!”

Walpole lunged to grab me.

“Let go. Why chain a bird yearning to fly free?”

“Lord Ashuban, you are no bird!”

“What? Impossible. I feel like I could soar at any moment.”

Shushruta and Linda scrambled to grab hold of me.

“Hold him! He’s not fully awake yet!”

“No, Devil! You’re not a bird!”

“It’s those mushrooms! Hallucinations!”

“What? No! Not true!”

The three of them together dragged me back.

“Release me! I’ll escape this cage!”

“Pull harder!”

“Ugh, Devil, snap out of it!”

“Why’s he so damn strong right after waking?”

Laughing, I gazed at the sky beyond the window.

“Hahaha! Let wings sprout! Fly! Fly again, once more!”

Crack—

I felt wood splinter beneath my grip.

“Lord Ashuban! Let go, you’ll rip it off!”

Crash!

“Uh?”

“Aaah!”

“Waaah!”

“Devil!”

The window frame tore away, and I tumbled backward into the carriage, arms full of broken wood.

The Heavenly Demon’s booming laughter echoed in my ears.

From the outside, commotion rose.

The Black Prince leaned from his own carriage window to glance back. The racket came from the wagon trailing behind.

He saw it rocking violently, then smirked faintly, pulling his head back in.

“So. He’s awake.”

Across from him, Count Herman Starvanger lowered his book and smiled softly.

“So it seems.”

The bird that tried to fly was caught by human hands and stuffed back into its cage.

Or was I the human, and they the birds?

Didn’t matter.

“Drink cold water and clear your head.”

Walpole handed me another waterskin. Only after draining it did I feel steady again.

Must’ve been a dream of breaking free.

Once the fuss settled, I chewed jerky and stared vacantly out the window.

Fields and paddies rolled by, dotted with farmhouses. A peaceful scene.

We were passing through the outskirts of Valeria, capital of the Blake Kingdom.

Shushruta, still watching me warily, clamped a hand around my arm.

“See that? He looks ready to bolt again. Hold him.”

At once, Linda wrapped herself around my leg.

“Don’t go, Devil!”

Walpole, tense, poised to grab me, asked nervously, “Are you in your right mind now?”

I answered calmly, “What are you talking about? I’ve never lost it.”

“...”

I gazed at the tranquil countryside.

“The struggle for the throne rages on, yet these people live so peacefully.”

Walpole nodded.

“Of course. Common folk often don’t even know who their king is. Too busy farming.”

“Mm.”

“My own family was like that. When survival consumes every day, who cares if the crown changes hands?”

I turned to him.

“Sir Walpole. You come from a farming family?”

He inclined his head.

“Yes. My family kept an orchard.”

“How did you end up a knight of House Starvanger, one of its brightest hopes?”

Walpole answered my question simply.

“I was lucky.”

“Hm.”

“A knight once stayed at our house for a night. By his recommendation, I was able to enter House Starvanger as a page.”

Knights were near-nobility; for a commoner to earn knighthood was no small thing.

When I asked about it, Walpole explained,

“House Starvanger cares little for status or birth. If you have the skill, that is enough.”

“I see.”

A fine lord indeed.

No wonder that uptight Black Prince himself admitted such nobles were rare.

If that’s the caliber of Count Starvanger, then entrusting Hans’s family to him might not be such a bad idea.

...Not that I had any right to “entrust” anyone.

Come to think of it, I’d left in such a rush I never even got to say goodbye to Joy.

“Tsk.”

I clicked my tongue with regret.

I should’ve at least gotten that lucky wildflower bracelet.

I turned back to Walpole.

“Is Sir Curtis here too?”

“No. Since the Captain is competing, the Vice-Captain stayed behind to manage the order. Someone had to lead the knights in the territory.”

“Mm. So among you three, only you came?”

“Yes. After long missions, we usually get rest. A sort of recuperation period.”

That made sense—we’d only just returned from Ophosis’s Tomb.

I studied Walpole’s calm face.

“Then why’d you come?”

He laughed.

“Haha. How could I pass up a chance to accompany you, Lord Ashuban? The Vice-Captain told me to rest, but I volunteered eagerly. Did I do well?”

I nodded with a mock-serious face.

“Our order’s shining star, the ace of the Starvanger Knights. The trickster of the order, leader of the young generation, idol and role model of the squires, spearhead of rebellion against the old guard, genius of the sword, next in line for commander, fearless and bold—Sir Walpole. Well done indeed.”

“Thank you.”

Clip-clop, clatter—

The wind whipped through the window, ruffling my hair. It was refreshing.

Meanwhile, Linda and Shushruta still clung to my arms and legs, squabbling.

My left arm, bound in bandages, was held tight against Shushruta’s chest. Yet even when I shifted, I felt little pain.

Still, until a physician examined it, better not to tempt fate.

“Do you remember Hugo?”

Walpole’s sudden question made me tilt my head.

“Hugo?”

Sounded familiar.

“The squire you gave guidance to.”

Ah. Memory clicked.

“That tough little brat.”

The Heavenly Demon interjected.

[Your disciple, was he not?]

“He is not.”

“What?” Walpole blinked.

“Nothing. So, what about the brat? Did he get into trouble?”

“No. He’s growing at a frightening pace.”

“Oh?”

“He couldn’t sense mana at all before, and now he’s skillfully channeling it through his limbs.”

The Heavenly Demon chuckled.

[Your disciple shows promise.]

“Stop calling him that. He’s not.”

[Why not?]

“Because I only helped him a little. That doesn’t make him my disciple.”

[And yet, did you not once say anyone who teaches you is a master? Even a stray dog with a bell you called your master.]

“...You remembered that?”

Apparently, my master had developed a taste for this disciple business. Strange, given how he once refused to take disciples at all.

“Lord Ashuban.”

I looked back to Walpole, who was staring at me keenly.

“What exactly did you do?”

I waved my hand dismissively.

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

“No, not that. I know you mutter often—I’ve traveled with you more than a week now. I meant with Hugo. He told me you taught him swordsmanship.”

“Mm.”

Walpole’s eyes burned with intensity.

“What did you do to make him so strong, so quickly?”

“I didn’t do anything. His own hard work bore fruit.”

“It’s more than that.”

So that was it. He hadn’t followed just out of loyalty or admiration.

He wanted something. A piece of what I had. The hunger in his eyes was the same one that once drove me to cling to the Heavenly Demon for teachings.

Yes—he truly was the ace of the order.

“...”

“...”

We locked eyes. And then a name came to mind.

“Hugo reminds me—what about that other one? Langmon, was it?”

Walpole tilted his head.

“Rickmon?”

“Ah, that’s it. Rickmon.”

“Rickmon was once the best in the cohort. But now he’s recovering from an injured shoulder. From Hugo, apparently.”

I raised my brows. “Oh?”

“Curious, isn’t it? Hugo always worked hardest, but never rose above last place. Rickmon was careless, yet always first. Now it’s reversed.”

“The world’s unfair like that.”

“I visited him. His confidence is shattered. Once he brimmed with arrogance, wherever he went. Now...”

I nodded.

“He was a bit cocky. A good humbling will do him well.”

“I fear it’s too much of a humbling.”

“Sir Walpole.”

“Yes.”

“Life throws trials at us all. To some, unbearably harsh. To others, light enough to break boredom. But always trials.”

“...”

“And enduring them makes us stronger. If Rickmon collapses at something so small, he’ll never endure what’s coming. Hugo faced his trials daily. Rickmon hasn’t. That’s why he needed to break early. If he overcomes this, he’ll be stronger for it.”

“...I see.”

Walpole sank into thought, as though searching my words for something to seize.

I watched him quietly—until my nose twitched.

Sniff, sniff.

A strange scent drifted nearby.

It came from Shushruta.

Sniff, sniff.

I leaned close. She flinched, releasing my arm and scooting back.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“You’ve got an elixir, don’t you?”

Her face soured. “How did you know? You really do have a dog’s nose.”

“Hand it over.”

Grumbling, she dug into her bag and pulled out a bundle wrapped in cloth.

It was hemp, stripped of fruit, thick as my forearm.

I didn’t know why, but my body cried out for it.

I tore into it, chewing, then pried Linda off my leg, crossed my legs, and settled in.

The carriage rocked, but that hardly mattered.

“Fwooo...”

Exhaling slowly, I closed my eyes and sank inward.

Before long, I was standing in my inner world again, gazing at the pond.

In its surface, the reflection of the moon looked back at me.

Once a thin crescent, it had filled out.

Across the pond, the Heavenly Demon spoke.

[The half-moon, is it.]

(End of Chapter)

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