Shattered Glass Slipper Shards Episode 29
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My father held expectations of me that bordered on obsession after two of the three brothers who inherited the family's blood failed to qualify as knights who could bear the Halberd name.
Fortunately, I possessed a physique and strength superior to my older brothers, and a talent for swordsmanship that was unmatched by anyone. Above all, unlike my brothers, I genuinely loved the sword.
I still remember the moment I first encountered an arming sword.
It was shortly before my seventh birthday when my father suddenly entered my room and asked me in a serious voice,
"Do you like swords?"
Around that time, I would pester my nanny every day to take me for walks to the training grounds, where I spent most of my time watching my older brothers practice swordsmanship.
The training grounds were a dangerous place for a young child like me, but I was completely captivated by knights and swordsmanship, especially the real swords they wielded, the 'arming swords.'
The slender blade of the sword, tapering towards the tip with an almond-shaped cross-section, completely captivated my young heart.
The afterimage of light scattering as it reflected off the sunlight was also one of the elements that made my heart flutter.
"Do you want to learn swordsmanship? If you wish, I will let you hold a sword right now."
Looking back, it seems my father had given up on my older brothers at this point.
Rather than clinging to a hopeless cause, he sought to regain his path by focusing on Lustewin Halberd, his last resort.
In the end, my father's choice was the right one. I was more than capable of fulfilling his desires, and in some ways, I even surpassed him.
My talent for swordsmanship was truly remarkable, allowing me to easily dismantle the swordsmanship of others without constant effort, and I effortlessly reached levels that others yearned to achieve.
Perhaps that's why I was called a 'genius' less than a year after learning to wield a sword. My father was greatly pleased with my skills.
"You are the true 'Halberd.'"
In fact, young boys from noble families typically spend seven to eight years learning swordsmanship.
They enter a knight's service or a family that will become their lord, taking on the status of a page and handling all sorts of menial tasks.
However, I was granted the exceptional privilege of taking up a sword immediately, and in less than four to five years, I entered the Bishvarts Family as a knight.
This was an astonishing event, bordering on the unprecedented, and for a while, society was abuzz with talk of my knighthood appointment.
But my knight instructor was my father, Sir Halberd, and he was renowned as one of the most skilled swordsmen among the knights of various families.
And I was considered to have a talent that surpassed even my father. Therefore, Count Bischwartz did not hesitate to appoint me as a knight apprentice; rather, he considered it a matter of course.
It was not unreasonable for people to say that I might become the youngest Knight banneret in the history of the empire.
However, everyone is mistaken in thinking that I was granted the title of knight simply because I was a genius of swordsmanship. It was because of my blood-stained hands.
By the time I took my first steps into the Bishvarts Family, my sword was already soaked with the blood of enemies, and my feet were mired in the gore of others.
I remember the first time I killed someone. It was only a year and a half after I had learned to wield a sword, when I was so intoxicated by the sound of being called a genius that I was overflowing with self-confidence.
The Bishvarts Family, which the Halberd Family served as vassals, owned territories but primarily managed the family through commerce.
Count Bischwartz was born with a natural talent for commerce and was further prospering the family in his generation.
He mainly dealt with precious items used by nobles, and it was no exaggeration to say that all the luxury goods entering society used the Bishvarts Family's merchant ships. As a result, the Bishvarts Family was often targeted by thieves.
As a knight belonging to the Bishvarts Family, my father spent a lot of time suppressing bandit groups.
He knew that the more bandits he killed, the higher his knightly merit would be, and the more he would gain the Count's trust.
So Sir Halberd, my father, demanded that I participate in battles with him, disguised as a squire.
If I close my eyes, I can still vividly remember it. The gazes of those who looked down on and ridiculed a young boy whose youthful bloom had not yet faded.
'A squire? That's absurd. What on earth is Sir Halberd thinking? This isn't a training ground. This is a battlefield where real combat takes place.'
People's mouths are cruel. They judged me solely on what they saw and, furthermore, expressed distrust of my father.
To them, I was a mere husk, struggling to obtain a title by relying on the Halberd Family's aura.
Therefore, many knights present, as well as other squires, doubted whether I could even hold a sword. This continued until I committed my first murder.
Unfortunately, my father wanted me to show the most plausible appearance in this battle than anyone else.
He seemed eager to boast to everyone that there was a genius named me in the Halberd Family. Therefore, throughout the battle, my father treated me as Sir Halberd, not as the biological father of a boy.
Ah, my father did not consider at all what emotions I had or what thoughts I harbored in my first life-or-death battle. It was a great burden to me.
The body remembers. The eyes recall. The head preserves. The hands still vividly retain the sensation of that time. The bandit who screamed and rushed towards me.
He was a burly man with a menacing appearance due to a scar on his face, and he looked quite murderous.
The man screamed and rushed at me, his sword meant to kill, its purpose clear.
His eyes, flushed red with the expectation of murder, and the corners of his mouth, twisted into a cruel smile, seemed to assure my death.
In fact, I was so surprised by the killing intent of others that I could not move my body and felt fear towards him.
The reason I was able to survive was because the training I had undergone had become ingrained in my body.
The instinct to live and the innate sense of combat exploded and awakened, causing me to stab the opponent's neck.
Thwack.
The sound of piercing flesh tears through the ears. The strange sensation that reaches the hand was terribly gruesome. It was different from a typical sparring match.
The blood flowing down the sword and the scent of blood piercing the tip of the nose, the body wriggling on the sword, were like a nightmare.
The bandit's body, foaming at the mouth and trembling with upturned eyes, was terrifying in itself and delivered a shock that felt like the world was collapsing.
At that moment, everything seemed to stop and be enveloped in silence.
The bandit staggered and let out a rattling groan. His hand, groping towards the air, was flailing as if trying to grasp an unseen phantom.
He wriggled for a while and then grabbed the blade of my sword. Even though blood was flowing between his knuckles, he did not seem to feel any pain as he gasped for breath and glared at me, sending shivers down my spine. His eyes, distorted with resentment, seemed to say 'murderer.'
I was afraid. I was scared. I felt like I would fall into the abyss with him if I stayed like this, so I twisted my body as if shuddering and tried to pull out the sword stuck in his neck.
But the blade stuck in his hand was not easily removed. Exhausted by the fear that I would fall into the mire together, I lifted my foot and kicked his body.
A desperate scream echoed from all directions.
'Save me, save me! Please stop!'
I covered my ears and bent over. At the same time, I vomited what I had eaten. I trembled all over like an aspen tree, vomiting and vomiting again. The feeling of the sword rising up from the flesh and blood of others was so dirty that it made me want to retch.
Unable to bear the rising nausea, I vomited everything on the floor.
But the surroundings did not leave me alone. Most of them rushed at me, saying they would avenge their comrade. Therefore, there was no time to sit down due to the shock.
Above all, in my heart, the desire not to die like that was greater than the fear of killing someone.
So I moved like crazy and swung my sword, mercilessly stabbing and cutting down the enemies who rushed at me. When I came to my senses, there was a mountain of corpses piled up around me.
The battle ended in victory for the Bishvarts Family knights. Only a few knights suffered minor injuries from stray swords, but it was almost a complete victory.
Considering that they were not knights who would lose to mere bandit groups, it was a natural outcome.
'I'm proud of you.'
My father stroked my cheek with his blood-stained hand and was genuinely pleased.
People looked at me again and sent gazes close to admiration. Some patted me lightly on the shoulder and gave me a friendly smile.
'Father, I…….'
'Now no one will be able to ignore you. Yes, from now on, people will know that there is a genius of the sword named Lustewin Halberd.'
I wanted to say that I was scared. I wanted to say that I was afraid of killing people.
But seeing my father so proud, I couldn't show a weak side. So I suppressed the rising emotions and swallowed them forcibly.
My stomach ached and I had a headache, but I needed to be more composed than anyone else.
I knew how great my father's expectations of me were, so I didn't want to disappoint him. Above all, I had a duty as Lustewin Halberd to please you.
Count Bischwartz was very pleased with the achievements I had made and welcomed them greatly. He first praised my father greatly, making you proud, and surprised everyone by appointing me as the youngest knight of the Bishvarts Family.
Considering that boys my age were only now graduating from page to squire, it was a very unconventional appointment.
The people who fought with me in the battle welcomed this situation and agreed that their lord had made a wise decision.
However, most knights, especially those who had just become knight bachelor, expressed dissatisfaction with this personnel decision and were displeased. So they often picked fights under the pretext of sparring.
In fact, around this time, I was barely able to sleep due to nightmares about killing.
I pretended to be composed on the outside, but my physical condition was deteriorating day by day, and I was afraid to close my eyes. I was even afraid of the sun setting.
The people I killed came to me every night as evil spirits. I screamed and struggled at them, or recited prayers to repent for my sins, but it was of no use.
The situation was getting worse and worse. I couldn't sleep properly, so my stamina was terrible, and I didn't have the strength to support my sword, so I often lost in sparring with other knights.
I showed such a terrible appearance that the name of the youngest knight was tarnished and I was ridiculed by everyone. If my second older brother hadn't come to find me, I would have collapsed and never gotten up again.
