My name is Maxime Apart.
I’m the eldest son of a baronial family, leading a modest life. I have no siblings. My parents, neither particularly ambitious nor indulgent, raised me in a mountain village located in the southeastern region of the kingdom. Our estate supplies apples to the capital, and though life was far from luxurious, the yield was good enough to ensure our people never starved.
“Here, take this wooden sword, Maxime.”
I dreamed of becoming a knight. It was an indistinct dream, seeded by the bedtime stories of my youth. I remember receiving my first wooden sword as a gift on my eleventh birthday. My father handed it to me, and I carried it everywhere, swinging it at every opportunity. In those moments, I was happy. I was a dreamer, and my sword flailed about, laden with my wild imaginings.
“So, you want to be a knight?”
My father looked down at me and asked. At that moment, the tip of my sword didn’t waver.
“Yes, I want to become a knight.”
For some reason, my response was unwavering, filled with confidence. My father ruffled my hair gently with his hand.
“A knight, huh…”
His words felt more like he was speaking to himself than to me. From my low vantage point, looking up, his face was obscured by the branches of a tall tree, casting long shadows under the bright sun.
“I couldn’t become one due to my lack of effort, but you—make sure you become a knight.”
It was a heavy statement. At the time, I didn’t understand the weight behind his words about lacking effort, and I cheerfully replied.
“Yes, Father!”
I think my father smiled as he looked down at me once more.
“What have you done?”
Theodora’s voice was heavy, sinking like an anchor. Maxime stood frozen, his eyes locked on the ceiling. His arms hung limply, and the tip of the White Fang rested against the floor. Leon Benning, gazing down at the black, blood-soaked heart in his hand, trembled. The air was thick and wrong. Unable to hide her unease, Theodora shouted.
“Answer me!”
Leon raised his head. His expression was twisted, contorted in a way that Theodora realized resembled a mockery of a smile.
“Theodora,” Leon began, his voice cold, “I’ve never really understood what it means to smile.”
He drove his sword into the ground as he spoke, his voice distant.
“Though now, I feel like I might have an inkling.”
Leon’s gaze shifted to the side, where Maxime stood frozen. The count’s hand rose and settled on Maxime’s shoulder. Theodora twitched, her body poised to leap forward, but she hesitated, unsure of Leon’s intentions.
“Your beloved is collapsing from within,” Leon said, his tone light but dripping with malice. “Perhaps someone tried to seal the curse, but it’s a flawed solution at best.”
Tap, tap.
Leon lightly patted Maxime’s chin with his hand, smiling faintly. Maxime’s eyes were unfocused, hollow.
“The memories of puppets are fragmented. The core of their identity is shattered, destroyed—like a spouse whose memory of you is broken beyond recognition.”
Leon pulled his sword from the ground, the movement slow and deliberate. Theodora’s grip tightened on the Black Wolf Blade. A wind began to stir, carrying her growing resolve.
“It’s too late, Theodora. Far, far too late.”
Leon chuckled softly as his aura surged, swirling into a dark tempest around him once again.
“If you wanted to save him, you should have come a year ago.”
“Wait there for a moment.”
One day, I met an elf. It was the first time my life had ever truly been in danger. A monstrous grizzly bear had loomed over me, its killing intent embedding itself deep in my bones. Overwhelmed by the sheer disparity in power, I collapsed onto the ground, unable to move. My wooden sword, which had always felt like freedom in my hands, now trembled uncontrollably.
The elf appeared as if carried by the wind and dispatched the bear in an instant.
Blood—monstrous blood—spilled. With a single, graceful stroke, the elf ended its life. I stared at the elf’s sword in awe, captivated by the profound inspiration that washed away even my fear. Not a single drop of blood clung to the blade. Beneath the hood, tousled golden hair caught the light.
“Don’t be afraid. The beast is dead.”
That was the first time I truly understood what it meant to encounter an elf. The elf dropped a sack onto the ground and looked at me. I stared curiously at the pointed ears beneath her hood. She frowned slightly, as if annoyed by my stare, and glared.
“Why are you still here? If you’re unhurt, leave already. And don’t tell anyone you saw me.”
The elf waved me off impatiently, pulling her hood low. Her golden hair disappeared into the shadows of her cloak as she crouched to harvest herbs from the ground. The warrior who had just killed a monster with unmatched elegance now looked like an herbalist plucking weeds.
“…Why are you looking for herbs?” I asked hesitantly.
“It’s a hobby,” she replied flatly. “Why are you still here? I told you to leave.”
The elf glanced at the herb in her hand and frowned. Dirt clung to its roots as it dangled loosely. I sighed, exasperated.
“That’s a weed.”
The elf’s face flushed. I thought elves were supposed to be experts in plants.
“…Weeds have their uses too.”
“The real herb is about two steps to your left. It looks similar, but it’s the one you want.”
The elf squinted at me suspiciously before moving two steps to her left. She sniffed the herb and clicked her tongue in frustration. Clearly, her pride was wounded. After a moment of indecision, she pocketed the herb and opened her pouch, which was half-filled with various leaves and roots. I couldn’t help but worry whether those were really medicinal herbs.
“How do you know so much?” she asked.
“This is my family’s land. I know the local herbs.”
The elf’s demeanor shifted instantly, her eyes sharp as she approached me. I wondered what might have caused such wariness, though it didn’t seem too serious.
“Teach me about them, then.”
“I could… but…”
I hesitated, unsure if I should voice my request. The elf narrowed her eyes at me.
“What? If it’s reasonable, just say it.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tightening nervously.
“Teach me swordsmanship. In return, I’ll teach you everything about the herbs here.”
For a moment, I felt as though I’d been struck by lightning. The elf’s gaze turned icy, and I instinctively dropped to my knees under the suffocating weight of her presence.
“Be grateful you’re young and ignorant. Otherwise, my sword would already be through your throat.”
Her cold voice sent a shiver down my spine. My breath came in dry gasps, indistinguishable from the parched wind. The elf must have seen my terror because she withdrew her killing intent and sighed heavily.
“I can’t teach you the sword. I know what you mean, but it’s impossible.”
She sheathed her blade and turned her back to me. I stared after her, speechless. A cool breeze blew through, rustling her golden hair. Just as she was about to leave, she stopped abruptly, scratched her head in irritation, and turned back.
“Fine. I’ll teach you the basics. Just the basics.”
I stared, dumbfounded, as she extended a delicate hand toward me.
Crash!
“Your sword is trembling, Theodora.”
“For all your boasting, you’ve stooped to crossing blades with me. What a wretched excuse for a human being.”
Leon’s mocking words were met with a growl from Theodora. Even as she squared off against him, her eyes flicked toward Maxime, worried for his safety.
“Are you concerned about your lover?”
“Shut your—!”
Boom!
Theodora unleashed a burst of aura, platinum wings unfurling around her. Leon’s brow twitched as he felt her strength suddenly overwhelm his dark energy.
“You still had reserves?”
She didn’t answer. Theodora drew on even more mana, matching Leon’s aura that had been bolstered by black magic. As their swords clashed, Leon’s laugh rang hollow.
“My daughter, so strong. You could become the greatest knight in the kingdom’s history. You mustn’t die, Theodora.”
“But you’ll die by my hand.”
Leon’s twisted grin widened at her response.
“Go ahead, try all you want.”
Boom!
Theodora pressed her advantage, her platinum aura overwhelming the dark energy that had dominated until now. Though their swordsmanship matched evenly, her technique evolved with every clash. Leon Benning, however, struggled to block Theodora’s strikes, which twisted unpredictably and cut through his defenses.
“If I just kill you first, wouldn’t that solve everything?”
“Perhaps. But do you really think you can kill your own father?”
Theodora, irritated by Leon’s smirk, lunged with the tip of the Black Wolf Blade aimed directly at his face. Leon barely dodged, leaning back, but for the first time, he failed to avoid it completely. A shallow cut appeared on his cheek, and a single drop of blood slid down. His expression stiffened as Theodora gripped her sword tighter.
“Tch.”
The Black Wolf Blade left streaks of aura in its wake, slashing ruthlessly at Leon’s oppressive black energy. His aura cracked and reformed repeatedly, as if a shell were shattering and mending over and over. Yet, the regeneration couldn’t keep up. The relentless assault pushed Leon further as Theodora’s platinum wings unfurled, radiant and untouchable. Leon frowned, his dark magic struggling to match the speed of Theodora’s strikes.
“Impressive—”
Thud.
Leon’s body was hurled into the air. Theodora gripped the Black Wolf Blade with both hands and launched herself after him. Her mana left trails like a comet’s tail, scattering particles of light in her wake. Leon hastily gathered his remaining dark aura to form a shield.
Silence.
With a soundless roar, Theodora’s sword slashed through the void. The impact cleaved the throne room’s ceiling in half, sending debris crashing down. As the collision approached, Leon’s gaze flickered toward Maxime. He was still unmoving, frozen as if trapped in a nightmare.
At that moment—
Maxime’s fingers twitched, the faintest click as they tightened around the hilt of the White Fang Blade.
Even as the brilliant aura threatened to blind him, Leon’s lips curled into a triumphant smile.
“Take care, Maxime. Write to us once you’ve completed your training.”
My father’s hand, once so strong, no longer felt as firm as I remembered. He patted my back a few times before finally letting me go. I looked at him—his head now level with mine. His expression was a mixture of pride and worry.
“Maxime, I believe in you. You’ll do well,” my mother said, gripping my hand tightly. Her face held far more concern than pride, unlike my father. Though she hid it poorly, my trained instincts caught every sigh, the redness in her eyes, and the way my father’s nose twitched as if holding back emotions.
“Don’t worry. I’m stronger than I look,” I said with a smile, trying to reassure them.
The coachman was waiting. My father nudged me toward the carriage, and I stumbled awkwardly forward. Climbing inside, I looked out the window one last time at my family, waving as the carriage began to move. The landscape blurred as we left.
“You’re on your way to become a knight candidate!” the coachman said, his voice rough from years of smoking a pipe.
“Yes,” I replied quietly. My answer was drowned out by the rattling of the carriage and the pounding of my heart. I placed a hand over my chest, feeling the rapid beat as if it might burst out.
“I’m excited,” I muttered, though I wasn’t sure if it was the journey or the fear that made my voice waver.
Clang.
The sound of a sword being drawn echoed. A scraping noise followed as its tip dragged across the stone floor. Theodora, kneeling and barely holding back Leon’s blade, turned her head toward the source of the sound.
“…Maxime?”
The battle came to a halt. The swirling auras of Theodora and Leon dissipated simultaneously. Leon, his unnerving smile still plastered on his face, glanced between Theodora and Maxime, who was now slowly advancing with his head hung low.
This isn’t the Maxime I know.
Theodora didn’t loosen her grip on the Black Wolf Blade. Leon chuckled, his laughter echoing ominously.
“It seems the transformation is complete.”
A twisted gleam of triumph shone in Leon’s eyes.
“Now, Theodora, watch closely to see what happens next.”
“■■■■.”
Words—words I couldn’t recall. My vision blurred, obscured by shadows. Memories replayed like a river’s current, flowing back to a moment when everything stopped. I couldn’t discern who was speaking or what they said, yet it felt warm, familiar, and achingly distant.
“What…?” I asked, but no answer came. The fragments of language left only a hollow sound in my ears.
“You always hesitate at critical moments,” a voice said clearly, cutting through the haze. It struck like a whip, sharp and painful.
Am I hesitating? What am I regretting?
“■■■■.”
I spoke, but the words were incomprehensible, fading into the void like echoes in a cavern. The remnants of memory washed away, leaving behind faint hues of platinum—a fleeting image trailing into the distance.
“Maxime…”
Theodora’s voice trembled as she looked at him standing between her and Leon. The Black Wolf Blade, which had roared with fury moments ago, now pointed limply to the floor. Leon said something, but to Theodora, it was no more than the meaningless rumble of rocks.
Look at me, Maxime.
She extended a trembling hand toward him, but Maxime didn’t acknowledge it. Leon’s voice cut through the silence again.
“Maxime Apart, you know what to do.”
Maxime’s head bobbed slightly in response, his movements lethargic. His arm rose, and the White Fang Blade let out a mournful cry as if it, too, lamented what was about to happen. Leon grinned, his words dripping with malice.
“Don’t kill her. Just subdue her. It would be a waste otherwise, understood?”
Maxime raised his head, locking eyes with Theodora. Despite the cold emptiness of the situation, his golden eyes still held the faintest glimmer of light. Theodora reached out, touching his face gently. Maxime’s lips moved, forming words that made her heart sink.
"I..."
"Am..."
"Standing."
The next sound was the sharp thrust of a blade piercing flesh.
“…Maxime?”
The White Fang wasn’t aimed at Theodora but instead protruded from its wielder’s own chest. Maxime clasped Theodora’s hand resting on his cheek and smiled faintly. Then, turning back to Leon, he stood tall despite the blood pouring from his wound.
“How… how could you?”
Leon’s face contorted in disbelief, his arrogance shattered. Maxime, still grinning through the pain, spoke with defiance.
“You think you’re the only one with magicians?”