BBYW Vol. 4 Chapter 16 (WN)
Chapter 16 – The Young Sword Saint
It was almost evening, quite close to the time the town gates would be closed for the night, when I managed to slip inside the city perimeter.
I hopped down from my steed and walked with him inside the capital — it was my first visit in months.
The last time I came was for the coronation ceremony of the current king, Sulley Lamperouge.
Easily the largest city in the kingdom, the capital was teeming with people, as usual: there was barely any sunlight left, but the main avenues were still pretty crowded.
I rubbed my horse so it wouldn’t get too excited as we made our way through the crowds.
“Nothing’s changed…at least on the surface.”
So I whispered to myself, looking towards the town outskirts, far from the main roads.
Just outside the bustling districts, one could see vagrants covered in rags, lying down on the pavement, their hollow eyes staring at passersby.
Every large city had its share of people who failed to receive the boons of its prosperity, people who failed at business or gambling and fell into ruin, but their numbers were steadily on the rise.
The capital did not show any change on the surface: not even its own citizens might have noticed such changes.
Its decline, however, was progressing, slowly and surely.
As fruit rots from the inside, the capital was headed towards decay, step by step.
“The new king’s rule does not seem to be going too well…not that it can be helped.”
King Sulley was still far too young to be at the helm of a kingdom.
Duke Rosais was supposed to be supporting him as Chancellor, but even such a prime example of a shrewd noble was looked down upon by a section of central nobles, after his daughter’s engagement with the crown prince was canceled, resulting in a loss of clout.
The declining authority of the royal family’s authority and Duke Rosais — head of the central nobles — was the likely cause for the inefficiency of the new king’s rule.
“On top of that, Lady Marianne is taking part in suspicious gatherings lately…the poor Duke is probably at the end of his wits.”
I shook my head, to wipe the feelings of guilt budding in a corner of my mind.
The primary reason for the decline of the capital was surely the former crown prince, Sullivan. After that, however, it was probably me, as I caused Sullivan’s fall from grace and nabbed “Herakles”, the royal family’s heirloom.
I did feel some sort of guilt towards the capital’s citizens, who were embroiled in all of this against their will.
“What’s done is done, though. I also protected this country from the empire’s advance though, so can we say we’re even?”
I made an excuse, to no one in particular, then looked away from the back alleys and the vagrants that inhabited them.
I was going to spend the night in the capital, then leave again for the western province the following morning. If I left at dawn, I would reach my destination by the evening.
“I have to rest as much as I can, now that I can. First off, let’s look for an inn with horse stables…”
“Oh? Might you be…Sir Dyngir Maxwell?”
“What?”
Someone called to me from behind, so I frowned and turned around.
The man’s voice did not sound familiar…though I generally only recognized men’s voices if they were people very close to me.
“You are…”
Standing behind me was a young man about the same age as me. Golden hair combed with care, he was the picture of a young noble.
(Who is this guy? I feel I’ve seen him before, though…)
“I’d never thought I’d meet you in a place like this! Do you know who I am?”
“Er, no…”
I thought for a minute if I should pretend I did, but then gave up on trying to remember and replied honestly.
“I’m sorry, who are you again?”
“Ahaha, we meet for the first time, it’s natural that you don’t recognize me. I only know you unilaterally, after all.”
The young man smiled softly as he put up his index finger, then traced it across his neck.
“Was my father’s head to your liking? I gave it a nice clean cut, if I do say so myself.”
“Ah…you can’t be…?”
The young man’s words left me wide-eyed.
Yes, I did know him. I had him pinned since two years ago, as someone who could become my enemy.
“You’re Benamis Saverne…the sword saint’s successor.”
“Correct. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Dyngir.”
Benamis politely bowed one leg and greeted me brightly.
A nonchalant behavior I reacted to with a thinly veiled glare.