Chapter 37: “In this place where the times have devoured conviction”

Duvell stepped out of Esil’s room and descended the stairs with a complicated expression.

At the time, he didn’t know. Back then, he simply thought it was the right thing to do.

For the Oath of Hurion and for the kingdom, he had believed it was something he had to do, even if it meant gritting his teeth.

But now, he seemed to understand.

That everything had gone wrong.

He didn’t know exactly when things had gone awry, but he realized that he had been there at the beginning.

The words he once said to Saint Yuria felt more accurate now than ever, a realization that struck him the moment he faced Emilia.

“Wouldn’t it be better to reform rather than punish someone for a future that hasn’t yet occurred?”

Those words, uttered behind the saint’s back, carried a truth that he fully grasped through Emilia today and Rossel on that first day.

After all, punishing someone for a future that hadn’t happened was absurd.

Yet, in a world where ideals had been devoured by the times, achieving such enlightenment and holding onto convictions was a daunting task.

When submerged in the crimson petrification pond, only by rising could one realize that their submerged body was being tainted.

Sitting idly and conforming to the times made one blind to their own corruption.

Without Rossel, Emilia, and the child Roden, Duvell might never have realized that his pretense of nobility was already stained by the crimson petrification pond.

Even on the day he departed for this place, his thoughts had been solely on his ‘duty’ as the leader of the Order of Knights.

It didn’t matter when the stain of the crimson water had started.

As the captain of the Royal Knights, protecting the king was his mission. If the king walked an unrighteous path, his duty was to stand at the forefront and guard him.

That was the role of a knight captain, not of a great sage, saint, or high priest.

If his lord walked a thorny path, it was the knight captain’s duty to follow and protect him.

Guiding and enlightening him of his errors was a task for those above.

And so, Duvell had silently stood by Brical’s side all this time.

Because of this, his hands were soiled with dirty blood, and he had once aimed his sword at the neck of a beloved disciple.

Although he had personally subdued Emilia and prevented her from suffering fatal or serious injuries, that didn’t erase what had happened.

Even now, he regretted those actions, yet he couldn’t say for sure what choice he would make if he went back to that day.

All he knew now was what choice he should make going forward.

Click.

Duvell didn’t leave the mansion but instead entered the first-floor infirmary.

He approached Roden, who was awake.

“Were you reading, Roden?”

Having met Roden before, Duvell spoke to him with ease.

“Uh, D-Duvell, sir?”

Startled by the sudden visit, Roden hastily closed his book, looking surprised.

“…Don’t be alarmed. I came to deliver something to you.”

“To me… deliver something?”

“I heard from Steward Gellion about you. That you risked your life for your lord.”

“…Pardon? Ah, no, sir.”

Roden immediately denied it. The events of that time were better left as a mistake.

But Roden couldn’t continue his denial in the face of Duvell’s words of regret that followed.

He never imagined that a royal knight captain, bearing illustrious duties and hopes of commoners, and his personal idol, would express such an emotion.

“I envy you… To have a lord you could genuinely serve with your life… I envy you to the point of madness, Roden.”

“Sir D-Duvell…”

Duvell removed the small dagger he carried on his right hip, still sheathed.

It is said that clean water above makes for clean water below.

The lower pond collects what flows from above, and if rotten water trickles down, the lower pond inevitably becomes polluted as well.

Even if the lower pond foolishly retains the water, it cannot escape responsibility for its turbidity.

Thus, he intended to take responsibility for the corruption, even now.

Duvell placed the dagger on Roden’s bedside.

“D-Duvell, sir? Th-this is…”

“This is the ceremonial dagger gifted to me by the former King Hurion.

He was a very kind and noble ruler… If it wouldn’t trouble you, may I entrust this dagger to you?”

“Pardon? To me?”

There was no issue with giving the ceremonial dagger, a gift from the former king, to a boy like Roden.

The dagger belonged to Duvell, and Roden had committed no act of treason.

No matter who knew of this, Roden would not suffer because of it. That’s why Duvell handed him the dagger.

Roden, looking bewildered, held the ceremonial dagger in both hands.

“Y-you’re really giving this to me? But why?”

“My pond has already become tainted. It cannot become pure again.”

“Huh? Tainted? But Duvell, sir, you’re everyone’s idol…”

“But your pond is still clean. Please, use this dagger to keep it that way.”

Duvell’s words were difficult for the 13-year-old boy to fully grasp. However, Roden could somewhat guess the source of his regret.

Roden gripped the ceremonial dagger tightly.

To commoners, Duvell was a figure like Duke Rossel—a hero and hope for all who dreamed of becoming swordsmen.

Especially as someone who achieved the ultimate state of martial prowess with sheer physical strength, Duvell was Roden’s eternal idol.

There was no reason for Roden to refuse a ceremonial dagger handed to him by such an idol.

“Yes. I’ll use it honorably.”

“…Good. Thank you. And please, when the water above grows murky, don’t idly watch and let yourself become murky too, as I did.”

Though he couldn’t yet understand the metaphorical words fully, Roden nodded, interpreting it as a request to serve Duke Rossel well.

“Yes, you’re smarter and braver than I am. I believe you’ll do well. And… I’m sorry.”

“Huh? Why would you apologize, Duvell, sir?”

Creating a better era is the responsibility of adults.

Having failed to fulfill that responsibility, Duvell apologized before gently ruffling Roden’s hair. Without saying more, he left the infirmary.

It was time for him to fulfill his responsibility.

For the moment soon approaching.

For this place, where ideals had been devoured by the era, he moved forward.

Roden, left alone, could only stare at Duvell’s retreating figure, dumbfounded.

“Teacher…”

Roden wasn’t the only one watching Duvell leave.

Esil, seated alone at a round table, clutching a journal in her hand, mumbled to herself absentmindedly.

Though the meeting was brief, Esil no longer longed for Duvell, who had been a true mentor.

She no longer resented Duvell, the royal knight captain who had given her a look of sympathy during the events of that day.

Everyone has their circumstances, and the interlocking gears of those circumstances are what drive the world forward.

Of course, her former party members and Brical, whose crimes were of a different nature, were a separate matter.

Even if Duvell had raised his sword against her, the meaning behind that sword carried a mercy that was different from her party members’.

Had Duvell called her a traitor and expressed disappointment in her, it would have been hard to forgive him.

But he hadn’t. He conveyed that his actions had been an unavoidable choice made for the sake of duty.

Some might call it a cowardly choice, but to Esil, who had spent months together with Duvell, it didn’t seem cowardly at all.

Duvell, the knight captain, was a servant of the times, filled with love and conviction for the kingdom.

At least he hadn’t lied, unlike her former party members.

She could sense his sincerity in the way he said he had carried the journal close to his heart every day just to deliver it to her.

With a heavy heart, Esil opened the journal with misty eyes.

It was filled with records from the day she had been transported to this world.

Memories she had forgotten, or perhaps needed to forget, were revived by those entries.

The records were full of dreams and hope.

Esil’s lips curved into a gentle smile as life returned to her expression, and she began to read the journal from its first page with tender eyes.

Suddenly, she found herself longing.

For the person she had been on that day.

For the carefree version of herself who dreamed freely without worry.

As she turned page after page, Esil’s smile deepened.

“Yes… I had planned to make a bouquet for my teacher upon my return…”

Of course, there were times when her melancholic smile deepened.

Although she had wished for Duvell’s dreams to come true, dreams that had lost their meaning due to the now-changed relationships could no longer be considered dreams.

Esil, as if trying to put her sorrow behind her, turned to the next page, and a smile once again graced her lips.

“Heh, I was so innocent back then…”

The records of gratitude she offered to the deity and praises for the saintess.

As she read the records of her appreciation for those who had given her wonderful adventures, Esil smiled.

Regrettably, it was a bittersweet smile.

A smile tinged with melancholy for her once pure self, who sought nothing but romantic ideals, oblivious to the harsh truths.

Though romance had vanished, the daily records of those romantic days etched a faint, bitter smile on Esil’s lips.

The excitement before setting out on a journey.

The thrill of meeting new companions. The growing sense of pride in her increasing strength.

“Those were such good times…”

Esil murmured while gazing at the journal, like an old woman reflecting on her youth during twilight.

Knock, knock-knock-knock.

Just then, the playful knocking sound of Lady Silia rang out.

Placing the journal on the round table, Esil opened the door.

Standing there was little Lady Silia, who only came up to Esil’s waist, holding a tray with macarons and drinks.

“Lady Silia, what brings you here at this hour?”

“Chief Chamberlain Gitchell said he’d bring these to the Hero, but I told him I’d do it and took them instead! Heehee!”

“Oh… W-well, please come in.”

“Yup, macarons and juice entering the room~”

Silia playfully announced as she entered the room, placing the tray on the round table and catching sight of the journal Esil had left there.

“Huh? What’s this?”

“Oh, t-this? It’s a journal. Sir Duvell brought it to me.”

“A journal? When did you write it?”

“I wrote it from when I first came to this world up until the departure ceremony.”

“Wow… That’s amazing. It must be such a precious journal.”

Silia’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she fixated on the journal.

A journal filled with the Hero’s secret thoughts and dreams was bound to pique her interest.

“It is precious. I had forgotten… what kind of dreams I used to have.”

“Wow! Dreams of the Hero~ I want to see the journal too!”

“W-what?”

“It’s a record of your true feelings and dreams! Can’t I see it?”

Faced with Silia’s request to see the private journal, Esil felt cornered.

The journal contained some rather embarrassing and dark passages, making it impossible to show Silia.

Yet, Silia’s sparkling, eager gaze didn’t seem like it would go away anytime soon.

“Oh! I have a journal too! I’ll show you mine! Let’s trade and read each other’s!”

The unexpected suggestion of a journal exchange caused Esil to break out in a nervous sweat. It had been a while since she felt so flustered.

“Ah… T-that’s a bit…”

An adult’s journal and a child’s journal.

From Esil’s perspective, such an exchange offered no benefit.

Yet, the endearing and caring gaze of the little lady Silia made it nearly impossible to refuse.

Of course, agreeing wasn’t easy either.

“Still, that’s a bit…”