BRC Ch 1

I ran and ran. Even as stones caught my toes and vines wrapped around my shins, I didn’t stop. Harsh breaths escaped my lips with each rise and fall of my chest. The humid air was thick with the stench of death. Twisted trees seemed to mock me from above.

I knew it would be difficult to return to my homeland alive, with enemy soldiers scouring the King’s Forest for me. Yet, my desperate flight wasn’t solely for survival.

“There he is!”

A group of soldiers rushed at me from the front. Six in total. I answered silently with my sword. My senses, honed by the single-minded goal of diverting the royal army, were razor sharp. Their movements appeared sluggish, as if they were wading through water.

I easily cut down the first two who lunged. I parried the blades aimed at my neck, chest, and waist, then plunged my sword deep into the belly of the nearest soldier. Ripping my blade free, I quickly turned and slashed the throat of the next. Before the fifth could register his comrades’ deaths, my sword pierced his heart.

My weary body, however, couldn’t react quickly enough to block the final soldier’s attack. I felt the blade tear into my left arm as I thrust my sword into his neck. Leaving the wound untended, I ran again.

Heading north, the trees thinned and the surroundings brightened. Emerging from the forest, a cliff awaited me. My relentless pace finally faltered. Below the sheer precipice, grotesque rocks filled the dried riverbed. Bathing in the merciless sunlight, I swallowed my fear.

Soon, the hounds that would hasten my end emerged from the dark forest. Infantry and archers, too numerous to face alone. Blades flashed white, and arrowheads aimed at me in unison. There was no escape.

Sticky blood from my forehead covered one eye. Arrows pierced my shoulder, my armor shattered, but my heart remained calm.

Marquis Vallon once said I was like a rook, moving only in straight lines. I was a rook on the battlefield. An important piece on the chessboard, but one that must be sacrificed if the king is in danger. I had bought Grey Zillard enough time to escape to safety. I pulled one corner of my lips into a smile. That was enough.

“Murderer Makin, you are surrounded. Surrender peacefully.”

My former teacher taunted me in a cold voice. The metallic taste of blood in my torn throat made me spit. It wasn’t the general’s frigid tone, his accurate assessment of the situation, nor his offer of surrender that bothered me.

“My name is Zillard, you royal dog.”

My voice cracked. The general ignored me, solemnly declaring,

“Even if you struggle, you will pay for your sins. If you wish to lessen your suffering, kneel before the royal family.”

“Stop your nonsense and kill me.”

“Your crimes are too great for that. How did you become such a monster?”

The word “crime” sounded foreign. I had only done what was necessary. My liege had said the enemy wasn’t human, but vile pigs, and I believed everything he said. It was uncomfortable at first, but later I became a willing butcher. It had been a long time since I felt any guilt slicing through people like chunks of meat.

Closing my eyes, the distant past filled my mind. I was a playful child. I grew into a young man who wanted to master the sword. And I was dying a murderer.

‘How did it come to this?’

I wondered belatedly, but I couldn’t find the answer. My head was filled only with Grey Zillard’s face and voice.

‘I need you, Moonshadow Blade.’

At his sweet words, I became Grey’s. Because Grey needed me, I used the sword gifted by the king to shatter the kingdom. Because Grey desired it, I pointed the swordsmanship learned from my master against him. I led the vanguard against the Aribez Kingdom and killed countless people.

I didn’t care about being branded a traitor, a murderer. My only concern was making Marquis Vallon the new king. Not because of some grand conviction, but simply because he wanted it.

To me, a faint light like a firefly, Grey was a dazzling presence like the sun. In fact, he was more than that. I coveted him, not with the usual loyalty of a knight, but as a man desires a woman. Everything I had done was to obtain that sparkling black jewel. Even though it ended so fleetingly.

I tilted my head back and looked up. The cloudless sky was as brilliant and indifferent as Grey. I remembered him reading a book one evening.

It didn’t matter that his gaze wasn’t warm, that it wasn’t directed at me. He was the absolute being who knew me from head to toe, the radiant sun whose very fingers commanded me to kill, and his mere existence was enough.

“My liege, you must become king.”

I murmured, picturing Grey Zillard on the throne. Standing before the Aribez lords, groveling for their lives like insects, he was chillingly authoritative and dazzlingly beautiful. He wore ceremonial robes embroidered with the Zillard emblem on the sleeves and back, holding the king’s scepter in one hand and a sword in the other. Behind the king, crowned with a gleaming crown, stood the Vallon knights.

I thrilled at the perfect scene, yet felt a nagging sense of unease. This was undoubtedly what I had desired, so what was the problem? Grey belonged in the sun’s place. My king would rule the world with rightful authority and shine brilliantly. Even though the broken rook would no longer be by his side.

At that moment, I realized naturally. That I, who deserved to share the glory at his side, was absent from the picture. Even if Grey became king in the future, I wouldn’t be there. Because I would die here.

I had no complaints, and I shouldn’t have any. Protecting the king was the rook’s duty. That’s why I let Grey escape and, consumed by my sense of duty, lured the enemy soldiers here. I thought it wouldn’t matter if I died to save him.

Then a small doubt crept into the cracks of my conviction. It was a trivial, emotional matter. I had been with Grey for a long time, yet I had never seen him weep for anyone. How would he react to my death? Would he even grieve?

I hastily pruned the bud of discomfort before it could sprout further. Of course he would. I was so special to him…. He recognized my worth and personally called me Vallon. He placed his hand on my shoulder and sincerely confessed that he needed me, and said he was glad I had joined his ranks.

Shaking my head, I dispelled my doubts, but my conviction was incomplete. Anxiety poured through the cracks I hadn’t managed to seal.

People said Marquis Vallon had no heart. The cold-blooded man didn’t treat even those closest to him any differently. I always received orders to burn the fields of Aribez and slaughter its people in his tent, a place I visited seeking a kind word or a warm smile. It had been too long since I’d heard anything other than commands. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find a way to defend Grey.

Still, I wasn’t just a simple subordinate to him. Marquis Vallon’s Ensley Makin. Ensley Makin’s Marquis Vallon. Even if it was built on infamy, we were a renowned pair. The whole world knew I was special to him.

Without me, he wouldn’t have been able to execute his plan. He wouldn’t have been able to find anyone to replace me, someone who fearlessly charged into battle, covered the battlefield with enemy corpses, and conquered enemy territory. So, at the very least, I was his most special tool.

His most special tool. Finally, I found the right expression.

My heart pounded. As the illusion of passion faded, the truth became clear. After I died, Grey would regret the loss of his sharpest sword and seek a knight to fill my void. I had made countless sacrifices and paid a heavy price to have Grey, but I had gained nothing.

Grey had no interest in my soul. He was merely an ambitious man who had exploited my martial skills. The truth I had ignored was as cold and sharp as the rocks waiting for me below the cliff.

“It seems you won’t surrender. Capture the enemy commander!”

At the general’s command, soldiers with nets rushed towards me.

‘Why should I kill you? Why should I die?’

Even as I thought about stopping the fight, my hand instinctively grasped the hilt of my sword. The weapon, accustomed to the feel of cutting through flesh, moved effortlessly. Like a flame that burns brightest just before it dies out, I danced a sword dance on the verge of death.

It was wrong. Everything was wrong. Along with the endlessly surging soldiers, the most painful memories flooded back.

‘Must we kill them all?’

‘Make an example.’

‘The surrendered are powerless, Grey.’

‘Bury them all.’

When Grey ordered me to bury over five hundred prisoners in a pit, I lacked the courage. But no matter how much I pleaded, the commander would not rescind his order. The prisoners cursed me until the last moment, as their heads were covered with dirt.

How many had I sent to the other side, gasping for affection that was never fully given? Belatedly, I regretted killing those people in Grey’s stead.

‘Grey, I am a knight sworn to Aribez. I cannot betray the royal family so easily.’

‘Don’t overthink it. It’s just choosing between Aribez and Zillard. You always wanted to be a Zillard, didn’t you?’

The memory went back to the day I cut my finger, betraying Aribez. Grey said I could become a Zillard if I helped him. Zillard meant a shining childhood, a noble lineage, and a stepping stone to stand on equal footing with Grey.

I always wanted to be a Zillard, but in the end, I was dying a Makin. I regretted what I had done, clinging to a futile name. I swung my sword, cutting down the hateful name I had never possessed.

‘Bastard, Ensley Makin is banished from Vallon.’

‘Wh, what are you talking about? I am also a descendant of His Lordship.’

‘Do not dishonor the deceased. I will hear no more.’

I remembered the day I was banished from Vallon at seventeen. Grey Zillard expelled me as soon as he inherited his father’s title. It was no use tearfully pleading that I had nowhere to go. His true nature, hidden behind a gentle and affectionate demeanor, was cold and cruel.

I regretted my foolishness in not seeing through Grey’s facade. I raised my sword and cut away my lingering attachment to my homeland, Vallon, and the Zillard family.

‘That child died because of your lies!’

‘Do you really think so, Ensi? You knew that child would foolishly wander into the forest.’

‘I didn’t want Rossi to die. If I had known…’

‘Don’t blame me. You killed him.’

Finally, a hazy figure surfaced. A face that might have been distorted in my memory because it had been so long since I’d seen it. The beginning of my sins, Rossi. That poor child was sacrificed because of my childish infatuation with Grey.

I regretted the blind adoration of my past, which disregarded even blood ties. With my heavy sword, I cut away the passion that had blinded me and led me astray.

Once I had dredged up and cut away even the deepest, forgotten memories, nothing remained. My vision blurred, then returned. The corpses of those I had slain lay piled up, but they were meaningless kills. I was still surrounded by a suffocating number of soldiers.

My body was drenched in sweat, my hands in blood. I staggered, but pointed my sword forward, knowing that this erratically shaking blade could no longer cut anything.

“It seems you can barely stand. This is your last chance. Surrender.”

I was the rebel army’s most flamboyant pawn, Vallon’s finest steed, albeit a damaged one. They would torture me into revealing secrets and then execute me in a large square.

As I stepped back, the soldiers hesitated, looking at their commander. I could see the general wavering. He was a sentimental man. Even if we were now enemies, with my death imminent, he would recall the times he taught me swordsmanship.

I took a large step back, and the general lowered his sword, urgently saying,

“What are you doing? Stop!”

Instead of answering, I stepped back again. One more step, and I would fall into the deep ravine.

I hesitated briefly, then shifted my weight onto my heels, following the rules of the game. The soldiers, rushing towards me with burning eyes, grew distant, and the general’s shouts faded away. My body plummeted, my hair fluttering in the wind.

As I closed my eyes, my short life unfolded like a series of paintings. If a life is judged by how happy it was, mine was a miserable one. I was scorned as a bastard in my childhood, and after being banished, I survived like garbage, living as a wandering mercenary. Even after becoming a knight through gritted teeth, I couldn’t escape the shackles of being an outcast.

Grey’s face appeared on the black board. Tears welled up between my closed eyelids and scattered in the air. I had been convinced that he was the answer to my thirst, but I was wrong. After devoting everything to him, all that remained was a cold death.

‘Well done, Ensley Makin. You lived a fucking awful life.’

In the brief moment of dying, I finally realized that my life was full of regret. I clenched my teeth.

‘If I had one more chance, I wouldn’t live like this.’

I let out a meaningless sigh.

The moment I wished to undo everything, my descent slowed. Feeling a sense of incongruity, I opened my eyes. Light pulsed from the pendant of the necklace around my neck.

‘Everyone has the power to change the future. Not everyone can change the past, though. This is a reward. You’ll need it on the last day you learn what you don’t know.’

The triangular necklace, given to me in the distant past by someone, emitted light. Just before my waist was impaled on the sharp rocks, my body floated. With a cracking sound, the light churning within the pendant stretched outwards.

Even though I had closed my eyes unintentionally, the surroundings were so bright that I winced. The light intensified, growing in volume, washing away everything around me, and my very being.