"This is Arcadian territory."
Mom stepped forward, her voice steady despite the tremor running through her bad leg.
From the ring of mounted soldiers, one man dismounted.
Mid-thirties. Dragon-etched armor, far more ornate than the others. Gold trim along the pauldrons caught the sunlight. A commander.
He raised his left hand.
Crimson light rippled — and a Heraldic Sword manifested, heavy and sharp, its edge humming with restrained power.
"Dragon Kingdom knights in Arcadia," he said, amused. "Old habits die hard."
Mom summoned her own sword.
Its glow was faint.
Her Knight's Crest was nearly spent.
The man tilted his head.
"The Dragon Kingdom never forgot the old borders. Three generations ago, your Sword King carved away half our eastern marches in the Crest War."
A smile. Thin. Patient.
"We waited. And now the emperor wants them back."
His gaze swept the village.
"Starting here."
Mom lunged.
Her foot slid forward — low angle, blade cutting upward. The opening strike she had drilled into me a hundred times.
Libert didn't retreat.
He stepped inside the arc.
Clang.
Steel met steel at the hilt. The impact shuddered through Mom's arms and down into her bad leg. Her breath caught.
I saw it then.
He wasn't blocking her attacks.
He was guiding them.
Mom attacked again — high cut, then a reversal meant to catch the wrist.
Libert's sword rotated a fraction.
Blocked. Redirected. Reset.
Each exchange forced her back half a step.
Each step widened the distance between her and me.
Her crest flickered — a heartbeat out of sync.
"Retired knight," Libert said softly. "Crest fading. Raising a child instead of fighting."
Mom struck again — desperate now, beautiful arcs filled with resolve.
Blocked.
Blocked.
Blocked.
"You had courage," he continued. "That first strike might have ended me… if your crest still had teeth."
He kicked her bad leg.
Hard.
Bone cracked — sharp and final.
Mom collapsed with a choked cry.
Her sword spun away, clattering across the dirt.
"Anyone who raises steel against me," he said, voice flat,
"dies by it. That is my chivalry."
The blade descended.
Blood sprayed in a bright arc.
Hot droplets struck my face.
Mom's body jerked once.
The world tilted.
The daily life I had finally accepted — mornings, hugs, cake still sweet on my tongue — was cut apart in a single stroke.
"No—STOP!!"
I grabbed her fallen sword.
Swung.
Blocked.
"Well done," Libert said. "Straight. Clean. She trained you well."
Crack.
Light shattered.
The sword vanished from my grip.
"The Heraldic Sword obeys only its master," he said calmly.
"And I spare no one who challenges me."
Mom threw herself between us.
The blade carved across her abdomen.
Fresh blood soaked my clothes as she wrapped her arms around me.
She ran — limping, bleeding, gasping — carrying me away from the laughter behind us.
She fell.
Hard.
"Mom!!"
"Leo… run. Please. The forest—"
"No! I won't leave you!!"
She screamed.
The first time I had ever heard her raise her voice.
"RUN!!"
I froze.
Libert approached, sword dripping.
"I'll send you both together," he said. "Better than leaving a vengeful orphan."
Mom rose.
Shaking. Bleeding from front and back.
She lifted her sword again.
"I will protect this child."
"Admirable," Libert said.
"But powerless."
They clashed.
It wasn't even close.
Her crest flickered — no master to feed it.
Her leg buckled with every step.
Blood trailed behind her like a red ribbon.
She fell.
Her sword slipped from numb fingers.
"You were a true knight," he said quietly.
"Even as a woman."
The blade rose.
"My name is Leo!!"
I drew the training sword she had given me.
Heavy. Cold. Real.
"With this name and the pride of a knight—
I challenge you to a one-on-one duel!!"
Silence.
Then—
"…Accepted."
"My name is Libert Felt, commander of the Knights of Liberty.
This duel is for the pride of our names and our knighthood."
Cheers erupted — savage, eager.
I charged.
Every strike was deflected.
Steel rang against steel.
My arms burned.
My lungs screamed.
This was a real knight.
Mom had been strong.
This man was on another level.
I struck again — adjusted my angle, aimed for his shoulder.
His blade intercepted mine halfway.
Not a clash.
A stop.
The shock numbed my fingers.
The crest flared softly.
My sword stalled — like striking stone.
"You have talent," Libert said.
"But without a crest, willpower is meaningless."
His sword rose.
Death.
"LEO!!"
Mom moved again.
The blade carved deep into her back.
She collapsed across me — blood warm and coppery soaking my chest.
I dropped my sword.
I couldn't move.
"Kill them," Libert said, turning away.
Mom's bloody hand touched my cheek.
"I'm sorry… I couldn't protect you."
"No—! Mom loved me! I don't deserve it—!"
My voice broke.
"I… I'm not your real child!"
Silence.
Then—
"I know," she whispered.
"…You have other memories. I knew."
She smiled.
Weak. Fading.
Still the same sun-bright smile.
"But the time we spent together was real."
She squeezed my hand.
"Love doesn't need a reason."
She pulled me close.
I hugged her back — hard.
"I love you too!!"
The words tore out — and something answered.
Heat surged through my body — into my left hand.
Golden light erupted. Blinding.
"What—?! A crest?!"
The light answered my grip.
A sword formed — weightless and solid at once.
I stepped in.
Just like Mom taught me.
One cut.
The golden blade sang once.
A solder eyes widened.
Too late.
The head left his shoulders.
Blood sprayed hot.
The body fell.
The head rolled.
The knights froze.
I ran.
Straight at the commander.
"Why do you have a sword and a crest?!"
"To protect them all!!"
This is a world of swords and crests.
And for the first time—
I chose to fight.