Chapter 30

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: The Burden of Brilliance
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‘You seem troubled.’

‘Brother.’

He smiled, saying he had come to see Father, but it was clear my brother had made the long journey to see me. Perhaps rumors about me had reached the Halberd estate, for when I met his gaze, his face was filled with pity.

‘You’re a wreck. Where did the brother I know go? I see only a sick man who looks like he’s on death’s door. So, did you come here only to find geniuses greater than yourself?’

‘It’s not because of that.’

‘Then what is it? Rustein, I cannot imagine the weight of the burden you carry. Nor how heavy Father’s expectations must be. It’s because of this worthless brother that you suffer so. If only I had been talented, you would not have had to walk this difficult path alone.’

‘Do you not resent your younger brother?’

‘Resent you? I am nothing but proud. I only wish you were the type to open up a little more. Rustein, people call geniuses lucky, blessed with innate ability. But I don’t see it that way. A genius is merely the product of immense perseverance. And within that perseverance lies a desperate something—a mix of confidence and despair. I don’t know what is tormenting you right now. I cannot dare promise I can ease your pain. But I simply want to see you again. The you from our proudest days, the you who shone more brilliantly than anyone when you held a sword. And remember this. Many people are worried about you. Especially Mother.’

People often compared me to my second brother. They would mock his lesser talents compared to his younger brother, calling him a half-wit as he calmly laughed off their ridicule.

But I knew. I knew how many tears flowed and dried within his heart as he pretended it was nothing.

In truth, my brother was only human. It would be a lie to say he didn’t resent me, the cause of his misery, to the point of hatred.

But my brother endured it with patience. He bore it out of his affection for me. He was a man with a stronger sense of self-love than anyone, and his pride was just as immense, yet he had the discernment to know who to direct his hatred toward.

That is why I respected him. Resputo Halberd, my second brother, was a man worthy of respect.

In truth, my brother’s words could not absolve me of the murder I had committed. They were never meant to. But they were enough to give me the strength to overcome my nightmares.

I found peace in his words and was able to reclaim my sense of self. With a calm heart, I was no longer swayed by evil spirits. Naturally, the skills everyone had once admired returned.

Day by day, my success grew. I was victorious not only in duels between knights but also in the knightly order competitions where nobles staked their pride. There were few in the empire who could defeat me with a sword.

Perhaps that was why. People praised me, saying I might become the greatest knight in the empire before I turned thirty.

By the time I had been a knight of House Vischwartz for six years, everyone in the empire lauded me as a genius, saying that Rustein Halberd was the very sword that represented the Vischwartz family.

The mockery and criticism vanished as if they had never been, and everyone smiled at me. At least within House Vischwartz, there was no one who disliked me.

***

To be a knight is not merely about wielding a sword well.

Only by maintaining dignity as the sword of one’s lord and faithfully upholding the given virtues could one become a true knight.

Loyalty, faith, humility, valor, love, charity, and the protection of the weak. My father, Ferdian Halberd, was a man more faithful to the virtues of knighthood than anyone.

My father was loyal to Count Vischwartz and revered his daughter, Lady Roena. He also urged me to live with a knight’s honor.

And so, until I joined House Vischwartz, I believed all knights were noble beings who possessed the same sublime beauty as my father.

But that was merely my delusion. The knights I met were skilled with a sword, but their thoughts and actions were no different from the commoners and servants they looked down upon.

No, some were even worse than the ruffians in the back alleys. Their vulgarity and violence were too great to be masked by loyalty to the Count.

Humility and respect were out of the question, and their contempt for commoners and serfs made it impossible to expect them to protect the weak.

To them, Cisse de Vischwartz was quite a tempting piece of prey.

After all, most of them were displeased and offended that a girl who had been running about the streets just yesterday had suddenly become a lady they had to serve.

In their minds, a noble lady was not some vulgar woman who stumbled into a title by sheer luck.

She had to be of noble birth, possessing an unapproachable elegance. Like Roena de Vischwartz.

I had been hearing Lady Cisse’s name for quite some time before I ever met her.

This was because the knights I trained with, my page Pel, and even the maids walking down the halls all mentioned her name in their whispers.

Most of their conversations were little more than slander. People would mention the lady’s mother, who was to become the Countess, and mock Cisse along with her.

They jeered that as the daughter of the woman who had seduced their lord to take the position of lady of the house, her vulgarity must be beyond description. Sympathy for Lady Roena was just a bonus.

It was astounding that so many people could unite with such hostility toward one person.

But they made it possible. No, they didn’t stop there; they constantly compared her to Lady Roena and snickered.

This was disrespectful to their lord, Count Vischwartz, but no one pointed it out. I found that fact deeply unpleasant.

What would it feel like to live a life of constant comparison? It would probably be like hell.

Though I had never faced an insurmountable wall and thus did not know frustration, and though I had never dared to harbor resentment toward anyone, even I could guess the extent of the pain my second brother must have felt. How much worse must it have been for him?

Fortunately, my second brother had endured all these insults with composure and was still holding up well. That was why I respected him, and at gatherings like hunts, I showed him more reverence than I did my eldest brother.

Therefore, while people might tease my second brother behind his back, they never dared to mock him in my presence.

Lady Cisse would be the same. She, too, must be experiencing the same painful time my second brother had endured, and was still enduring.

But she was different from my second brother. I had surmised as much from our very first meeting—that is, when I found her in the garden, looking as though she were crying.

In truth, until that moment, I had held no particular thoughts about Cisse de Vischwartz.

I simply believed I should respect and follow the decision made by my lord, Count Vischwartz.

But when I saw her in a deserted corner of the garden, huddled over to avoid being seen, I felt a strange, indescribable emotion. It was pity.

My second brother, Resputo Halberd, is a knight who understands chivalry. He learned patience while honing his swordsmanship and, through proper education, mastered how to control and overcome his emotions. In some ways, he possessed a strength and excellence greater than my own.

But Lady Cisse is different. She is a delicate girl who has just entered the world of nobility and has not yet learned how to deal with malice.

Therefore, all she could do was hide like this to compose herself.

I approached Lady Cisse and offered her a handkerchief. This was less about upholding the knightly virtues of revering a lady or protecting the weak, and more an impulse.

I could not help but feel sorry for her, a person in the same predicament as my brother, yet far weaker.

The much-rumored Lady Cisse, whom I was meeting for the first time, was quite surprising.

She must have been a commoner only a few days ago, yet even in the small act of accepting the handkerchief, there was a sense of grace.

Furthermore, her words of thanks and the natural demeanor that followed were no less refined than Lady Roena’s.

She was a rather beautiful girl. Her eyes, wide with surprise, did not detract from her radiant appearance in the slightest.

In fact, her eyes, trembling pathetically with fear of a strange knight, were captivating.

Her averted gaze, as if from embarrassment, and the way she clutched the handkerchief I gave her were far from the vulgarity everyone so unanimously mocked.

“Please, I ask you to forget what you just saw.”

It seemed she had already learned how to swallow her sorrow. Above all, her effort to hide anything that might become gossip, conscious of others' eyes, was quite pitiful.

That was probably why I impulsively told her she didn't have to return the handkerchief.

I do not have a gentle nature, so I did not know how to comfort someone in her situation.

Even with my second brother, I could only preserve his pride by treating him with a respect bordering on reverence.

Thus, comforting Lady Cisse felt difficult. I wanted to say something, but it felt like it would be a great discourtesy.

The day after I met Lady Cisse in the garden, a rumor spread that Lady Roena had been severely scolded by her father, the Count, because of her.

“They say Young Miss Cisse pestered Young Miss Roena for a maid. The maids who were there said it was the most rude and shameless demand they’d ever heard. Isn’t that interesting?”

My page, Pel, was clever and quick, making him perfect for the role, but he was also gullible and frivolous, which often caused problems.

There wasn’t a rumor in the Count’s estate that Pel didn’t know. He loved gossip and enjoyed spreading it to others so they could chatter about it together. The person this young boy had taken an interest in lately was none other than Young Miss Cisse.

“Rumors are not to be trusted. Instead of filling your ears with such things, go polish another sword.”

“But our beautiful Young Miss Roena burst into tears! As a knight, doesn’t that make your blood boil? If I were you, sir, I would have rushed to Young Miss Roena and offered her a handkerchief. Ahh~”

“Have I not told you time and again? A true knight must…”

“Yes, yes. A knight must not be swayed by idle rumors but act by considering what he sees, believing what touches his heart, and pursuing true justice. I know, I know. I’ll go polish a sword.”

“One more thing. You must not doubt your lord’s true intentions. What you must believe is not the wicked rumors spread by others, but your lord.”

At my words, Pel nodded with a sullen face. I pretended not to notice and headed out to the training grounds.