Tale of the Fake Hero

Chapter 3

The Camilla Corps was bustling with post-battle cleanup.

The entire land was covered with corpses.

Kaisen stepped onto the field of slaughter, passing by the shattered skulls of Uruk corpses and shooing away crows pecking at human brains.

"Ha, when are we supposed to burn all these bodies... Huh? That brat, huh?"

"Isn't that the Uruk Slayer?"

"Wait a minute, that kid looks a lot more like a man after just a week. Hey, come over here. I'll give you a little affection."

He ignored the mercenaries' voices.

The black-haired boy simply walked.

Until he stood before Camilla, who was sitting atop the corpse of the Uruk chieftain he had slain.

"You promised to teach me swordsmanship if I landed a single hit."

Feiquaria, who had been gazing solemnly at the blade of Aradamantel, lifted her golden visage and glared at Kaisen.

"That is, if you don't end up dead."

"So the offer still stands?"

"I don't know what you were scheming with Wolf, but you only survived last time because I was feeling generous, brat. That won't happen twice. If you don't want to die, scram."

Perhaps it was the killing intent in that one remark.

Birds in the forest behind Kaisen took flight in a flurry.

The horses pulling the wagons reared up, kicking at the air and neighing in distress. Even the beasts trembled at the aura of death—but the boy remained unfazed.

Instead, he calmly drew his mother’s short sword from his lower back, pointed it directly at Camilla, and said,

"Then this is my answer."

A sharp silence fell.

And then, suddenly, the mercenaries surrounding Kaisen and Camilla erupted into wild cheers.

"Whoa, did he just say that?"

"I got chills just now."

"His guts are top-tier!"

Wolf, who could be considered an accomplice in this situation, smirked and subtly provoked Camilla.

"What’s wrong? Afraid you might actually have to teach him?"

At that playful taunt, Mercenary Captain Eltoram and his beastkin subordinates burst into laughter.

Camilla shot Wolf a glare before letting out an exasperated sigh as she rose to her feet.

Her displeasure was evident, but her movement signified that she had accepted the duel. The mercenaries cheered even louder.

"Alright, come at me. If dying is your wish, I’ll grant it."

***

For a brief moment.

Time rewound to six days prior.

Isn’t this too much? You should take breaks...

Day after day.

Time etched itself into his body.

The intricate footwork gradually became second nature to Kaisen—no, he was becoming skilled.

No problem.

Kaisen was desperate.

Like a starving child, he devoured his training.

He traveled with the corps, ate the meals Wolf provided, and after eating, he went to Camilla’s training grounds—carefully avoiding her presence.

Show me the next illusion. This is enough.

Unbelievable. It’s only been three days...

By the third day, he was already wielding Laminea’s short sword, mimicking even the illusion’s hand movements.

But Kaisen, there’s a limit to imitation.

So I need to earn recognition somehow?

Exactly. Learning properly and stealing techniques are worlds apart.

And so, another day passed, then another.

After spending six days desperately training, Kaisen now stood before Camilla.

"I don’t know why you’re so eager to die, but fine, if that’s what you want."

Camilla’s weapon... was her bare hands.

Not even bothering with a stick this time, she looked down at Kaisen with irritation and beckoned him forward with her fingers.

Tense breaths.

A steadily rising heartbeat.

A deep inhale...

Kaisen kicked off the ground and charged. The mercenaries erupted in both cheers and jeers.

"Yeah! First strike wins the fight!"

"Idiot! He’s gonna get wrecked the same way as last time!"

But this time was different.

Something, something had changed.

The mercenaries fell silent, their mouths agape at the sight before them.

"Huh...?"

Camilla, who had swung a kick aimed at Kaisen’s abdomen, was the one most caught off guard.

In that instant, sensing the attack, the boy stomped down to brake his momentum instead of recklessly charging forward.

Using the force of deceleration, he twisted his body, swinging his blade with the power of his rotation.

"Wait, that movement...?"

"Huh...?"

"Isn’t that similar to Lady Camilla’s footwork...?"

What the hell.

The Tenfold Cross Blade’s footwork?

Camilla, caught in a moment of confusion, dodged Kaisen’s full-powered slash with a slight hesitation.

"Hah! Hahh! Hahhh!"

His battle cries were almost adorable.

But his relentless barrage of slashes was anything but.

Perhaps because the expected battle dynamic had reversed, the mercenaries’ excitement peaked.

"Hit her!"

"Oh! Oh! He’s pushing forward!"

Camilla, dodging with an expression of bewilderment, suddenly narrowed her eyes.

'His only chance was in the first exchange.'

Camilla was the rightful heir of the Tenfold Cross Blade.

Whether her master had playfully taught his son a fragment of the technique or Wolf had played some trick, all forms of this swordplay were within her grasp.

"He actually surprised me."

In the next instant, she subtly twisted her body, channeling the rotational force into a sweeping kick.

'A force strong enough to shake his brain. Just enough to scare him into running away.'

But in that moment, Kaisen’s eyes flashed sharply.

'What?'

Camilla, witnessing Kaisen’s sequence of movements, involuntarily exhaled in shock.

"Huh...?"

He drew out the entire scabbard along with his sword.

Crossing the blade and the sheath, he intercepted the trajectory of her attack.

'How the hell does he know this...?!'

It was Tenfold Cross Blade’s foundation and core—Form One: Circular Guard.

────BOOM!

Impact.

A pain like bones cracking.

A reverberation that shook his entire body, but Kaisen desperately held his defensive stance.

'I blocked it. But I’m still being pushed back...?!'

Her power was monstrous.

However, by the time his feet had sunk deep into the ground and he had been pushed back a mere handspan, the impact had diminished, and his stance stabilized.

Meanwhile,

Camilla had yet to recover from her failed offensive. The mercenaries, holding their breaths, finally erupted in shouts.

"This is it?!"

"A chance! A chance!"

"Her guard is wide open, kid!"

Kaisen didn’t waste the opportunity. Bouncing off the ground, he shot toward Camilla.

"This is the end..."

At the height of everyone’s cheers, only Eltoram sighed and shook his head.

'Lady Camilla is Feiquaria.'

A supreme soldier of humanity, whose body had been enhanced beyond even beastkin and who had mastered martial arts to perfection.

"Huh...?"

In the moment he was certain of victory.

In the instant he thought his blade had pierced Camilla.

Clang!

Suddenly, Camilla's wrist struck the back of his blade, disarming him, and with a sweeping kick, she tripped him, toppling his balance.

'Huh?'

The sky above, blackened by volcanic ash, spun wildly in his vision before he found himself sprawled on the ground.

'Huh?'

A glint of light.

His mother’s sword spun through the air before stabbing into the ground just beside his face, making his hair stand on end.

'Lost...?'

The shadow of death loomed over him. Camilla stood by his head.

Snow-white hair.

Golden dragon-like eyes.

Her shaded face and piercing gaze resembled his mother’s, yet her expression was entirely different.

"Goodbye."

Camilla pulled his mother’s sword from the mud.

It happened in an instant. She reversed her grip on the short sword and brought it down toward his face—

Yet even as death's terror enveloped him, Kaisen stared straight at Camilla. That alone unsettled her more than anything.

"Why...?"

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

Time stretched into eternity, yet nothing happened.

Instead, Camilla retrieved the scabbard from where it had fallen and sheathed the short sword.

"I changed my mind. This trash might actually be useful. Still garbage, but considering what he accomplished in six days, he might be fit to serve as a vanguard later. Right, Eltoram?"

Eltoram chuckled and nodded.

"More or less."

"What? A vanguard? No way. I won’t do it. I’ll keep challenging you until you teach me swordsmanship!"

Kaisen weakly protested, but Camilla only gave him a look of disdain.

"You owe me your life. Do you not understand basic decency? And do you really think a runt like you will ever beat me?"

"Oh! Try me again! I can do it!"

His bold response against the formidable Camilla sent the mercenaries into roaring laughter. Though they quickly scattered when she shot them a chilling glare.

"Shut up and listen. As you can see, this corps is full of trash. We're in dire need of useful worms."

"Ah, Lady Camilla, that’s quite hurtful."

"Agreed!"

"Shut it, you trash."

"Yes, ma'am."

"See? Nothing but guys like that. But if you swear to be my loyal underling, I might humor your ridiculous demand. I do happen to need a useful lackey."

"?"

"Don’t just blink at me, or I’ll gouge those clueless eyes out. Didn’t you understand? When I tell you to take down an Uruk, you do it. When I tell you to scout, you scout. When I give you a message, you deliver it."

Wait, what...?

The mercenaries shook their heads.

'How’s a kid like him supposed to take down an Uruk?'

But Kaisen's response was different.

"And what do I get in return?"

"What do you mean? You want to learn swordsmanship, don’t you? I’ll teach you."

That answer, that single remark pulling him into the path of bloodshed and carnage, making him soak in and be drenched with it—

It made the eyes of a boy stained with hatred and despair light up.

Seeing that face, for an instant, Camilla saw her master’s face overlapping with his. A searing pain struck her chest.

'Master.'

Did you entrust me with your son’s sword, expecting me to teach him?

But you ran away from the world of blades. Surely you wouldn’t have wanted this.

Yet if I send him back now, he might starve to death in some remote land or beg the wrong person for training and get himself killed.

"The choice is yours."

Camilla let out a sigh and offered Kaisen his master’s short sword—this time, hilt-first, still in its scabbard.

'Let him choose for himself.'

Just as you once let me choose.

That should be enough, right?

Somewhere far away, in an unknown, distant land, Camilla had mourned the news of her master’s final days—living in peace, raising a child, and dying at last.

"Will you just go back, or will you stay and learn until you’ve mastered swordsmanship, alongside this band of foul-smelling trash?"

Kaisen, lost in thought as he stared at his mother’s keepsake, hesitated for a long while—but in the end, he did not take it.

"If I don’t take this back... that means you’ll teach me swordsmanship?"

"That’s right. Think of it as collateral, ensuring you won’t run. Can’t have you wasting food and running away."

"Really?"

"Have you been tricked all your life? Oh, and if you kneel and beg, who knows? I might even start teaching you basic forms today."

Kaisen—

The son of her master, who evoked such strange feelings in Camilla—

Knelt without hesitation amidst the mercenaries’ laughter and jeers.

"You have no pride?"

Can you eat that?

That was the look in Kaisen’s eyes as he said,

"Pride is useless. As long as I can learn the sword, as long as I can kill the Uruk, nothing else matters."

At that moment, his voice wavered between suppressed sobs and gritted rage.

Yes, back then, you desperately wished for it.

To step into this world of blades, where you would spill blood, be soaked in blood, and eventually drown in it.

'Sigh...'

Camilla, gazing at her master’s son with dragon-like eyes, let out a deep sigh and fixed the sword to her belt.

"Eltoram, go fetch a single-edged sword."

"A single-edged sword? Why?"

"Idiot, why do you think so? I need to teach this brat how to use a blade."

Perhaps moved by Kaisen’s determination, the soldiers of the corps erupted into cheers.

"Damn, even a kid like that’s a real man. Welcome aboard, kid!"

"Haven’t felt my chest burn like this in a while."

Wolf, who had been watching the scene unfold from the start, gazed at the boy with a mix of concern and anticipation.

'For someone so young to be thrown into the storm of war... is this a blessing, or a curse?'

Only the gods would know.