Chapter 137: A Knights Pain (2)
He had protected Jenny and Jake through disaster, betrayal, forest roads, Ravencroft humiliation, and noble danger. Yet now a newly accepted mercenary leader had walked into the house and become the strongest warrior in it. Peter did not hate Brant for that. That was the problem. Hate would have been easier. Instead, he hated his own weakness.
That night, Lucard found Peter in the training yard.
The moon was thin. The yard was quiet. Most of the house slept. A few guards moved along the wall, but none came close. Peter stood alone with a wooden sword in hand, striking a training post again and again.
The sound was dull.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Each strike was controlled. Too controlled. Peter was not training to improve form. He already knew the form. He was striking because something inside him needed to hit something that would not bleed.
Lucard stood near the shadow of the corridor and watched.
Peter swung again.
Thud.
His breathing was heavier than it should have been.
Thud.
His grip was too tight.
Thud.
On the next strike, the wooden sword cracked.
Peter stopped.
For several breaths, he only looked at the cracked blade in his hand.
Then he lowered it.
"Young Master," he said without turning around.
"You noticed me."
"I would be a worse knight than I already am if I did not."
Lucard stepped into the yard. "You are not a bad knight."
Peter laughed once. It had no joy in it. "No. I am only not good enough."
"That is different."
"It feels the same."
Lucard walked closer and looked at the training post. The wood had deep marks all across it. Some were old. Some were new. The newest ones were rougher than Peter’s normal practice.
Peter placed the broken wooden sword on the rack.
"I came to ask you something."
Lucard waited.
Peter turned and lowered his head. "Young Master, I request to leave."
The words entered the yard quietly, but they were heavy.
Lucard’s eyes did not change. "Why?"
Peter did not look away. "To become stronger."
"How?"
"I do not know yet. I can go to the old knight grounds in the east. I can find a battlefield. I can join a monster hunt. I can beg an old aura master to teach me. I can do anything that might help me cross into Rank Four."
Lucard looked at him. "And leave Jenny and Jake here?"
Peter’s face twisted with pain. "That is why I have not asked before."
"But now Brant is here."
Peter’s hand clenched.
"Yes."
There was no jealousy in his voice. Only shame.
"Brant Ashwolf is a Rank Four knight. He can use aura. If danger comes, he can stand where I cannot. He was sick before, but now he is recovering. He will soon be stronger than me by more than a little. House Vardros needs strong protectors. Lady Jenny needs them. Young Lord Jake needs them. You need people who can stand beside you without becoming burdens."
Lucard said, "You think you are a burden."
Peter lowered his eyes.
"I know I am loyal. I know I can still fight. But loyalty does not stop a fire spell. Loyalty does not cut through aura. Loyalty did not stop the Ravencroft guards from surrounding us. Loyalty did not stop Dorian Velkhur. Loyalty did not stop Garran."
"You survived."
"Because you were there," Peter said. "Again and again, because you were there."
The yard became quiet.
Peter’s voice dropped lower. "When your father was alive, I swore to protect his children. I failed to protect the house. I failed to protect your parents. I failed to keep Lady Jenny and Young Lord Jake safe from humiliation in Ravencroft’s house. I could only stand there wounded while others decided whether they lived or died."
Lucard looked at him.
Peter continued, "Now House Vardros may rise again. The emperor has noticed you. The nobles are watching you. Enemies will not stop because of one decree. They will only become careful. If I remain like this, then one day I will stand beside Lady Jenny and Young Lord Jake and watch another enemy walk past me because I am too weak to stop him."
His voice shook once before he controlled it.
"I cannot accept that."
Lucard was silent for a moment.
Peter lowered himself to one knee.
"Young Master, please grant me leave. I will return stronger. Even if it takes years, I will return and serve House Vardros properly."
Lucard looked down at him.
Years.
That was the word of a normal man.
A normal knight trained for years to break through. Some never did. Rank Four required aura awakening, and aura awakening was not given by desire alone. It needed body, will, blood, battle, technique, and often luck. Peter might leave for three years and return with scars but no aura. He might die in some forest while chasing strength. He might come back too late, when the house no longer needed him or when everyone he wanted to protect was already buried.
Lucard asked, "How long will it take?"
Peter opened his mouth.
No answer came.
His silence was answer enough.
Lucard said, "One year?"
Peter’s jaw tightened.
"Two?"
Peter looked down.
"Five?"
Peter closed his eyes.
Lucard’s voice remained calm. "You want to leave the people you swore to protect, chase a chance you cannot measure, and return at a time you cannot name."
Peter’s face paled.
When Lucard put it that way, it sounded foolish.
But it was still the only path Peter could see.
"I know," Peter said quietly. "But if I stay, I know exactly what I am. If I leave, at least there is a chance I can become something more."
Lucard watched him carefully.
That was not cowardice.
That was pain.
A useful pain.
Peter did not want strength for pride. He did not want it to stand above others. He wanted it because weakness had made him watch too many things. That kind of desire could survive suffering. Perhaps it could even survive what Lucard had in mind.
Lucard walked past him and looked up at the thin moon.
"I can make you stronger."
Peter lifted his head sharply.
"Young Master?"
Lucard turned back to him. "I can give you a path faster than wandering roads and begging old men."
Peter stood slowly, hope and fear mixing across his face. "You can help me reach Rank Four?"
"I can try."
Peter’s breath caught.
Lucard continued, "But it will not be clean. It will not be gentle. It will not be like normal training. Your body is already Rank Three, but your blood, bones, and mana channels are ordinary for this world. To force them open, they must be broken, burned, cleaned, and rebuilt."
Peter listened without moving.
Lucard’s eyes became colder.
"The pain will be worse than death."
Peter’s face tightened, but he did not step back.
Lucard said, "Death ends. This will not end quickly. You may beg. You may curse me. You may hate me. If you fail halfway, you may become crippled. If your will breaks, you may die. If your body cannot carry what I do to it, I will not be able to put every piece back the way it was."
Peter swallowed once.
The yard seemed to grow colder around them.
Lucard stepped closer.
"So I will ask only once."
Peter straightened.
Lucard looked into his eyes.
"Are you willing?"