ERTHMB Chapter 114

Shield and Cage

Samte meant “shield” in Rihalt. Though it was a somewhat crude name, Samte treasured this name his father had given him.

When his father brought a child who resembled himself into this world, Samte understood what his father’s feelings must have been, even at the young age of five.

[Dirty foreigner, what do you think you’re doing coming in here!]

[The stench is overwhelming. How can we live alongside something that’s neither human nor dog?]

Like a shield that blocks everything, he must have wished for him to live strong without getting hurt.

From the moment he was born, his life continued like duckweed. He couldn’t put down roots anywhere and wandered about. Every place he set foot became a place to live.

Deep forests or caves hidden in foothills mainly became the father and son’s temporary dwellings. They had no home.

But even during all this, his father taught him swordplay. Though he claimed all he possessed was crude technique, he said that Samte had talent so great that even he couldn’t fully embrace it, and trained him daily.

Samte also felt it the moment he gripped the handle of the roughly carved wooden sword. This was the path he should take. This was a challenge he could dare attempt as a foreigner.

Samte’s training, which had started with him being one-sidedly beaten by his father, ended when he turned ten.

His father’s stamina could no longer handle him. Samte’s opponents changed to low-level magical beasts. Even that became manageable after another two years passed.

Everything flowed smoothly. Signs of change were stirring in the world, and before long, even foreigners would be able to become knights. Samte wanted to be the first such knight.

But when he turned twelve, his will was broken.

It was during turbulent times when the princes’ rebellion occurred. The anticipated Foreigner Discrimination Law and Slave Abolition Law turned to a handful of ashes. The world became harsh toward foreigners once again.

Even so, Samte had to live on. And his father wanted him to live dreaming of the future, not merely surviving. He hoped that even if the world changed dramatically, the shield Samte had forged would not become soft.

Even if it meant trading his own life for it.

[I refuse, Father. I don’t need swords or meat. If we need food, I’ll hunt it myself.]

Uncharacteristically, Samte grabbed his father’s pant leg and clung to him. His father would go to the city center once a month to obtain daily necessities and a sword for Samte to use.

Due to the unstable political situation, they had endured three months in the forest, but it was no longer feasible.

His father eventually left the forest, and Samte couldn’t see him return with the promised sword before sunset, even after night had fallen.

‘It’s already been more than ten years since then…’

Samte stopped walking and pulled his hood down further. Quick footsteps were approaching from the opposite direction.

A natural process of deducing his opponent flowed through his mind. Inside the Partren Guild, and with those footsteps of that weight coming toward this area, it could only be her.

Samte stopped obediently and waited for her to pass by him. When he crouched like a rock with his face covered like this, most people would step aside on their own.

However, it was somewhat puzzling that he heard only one set of footsteps.

He had certainly seen her going to the marketplace with his lord that morning. Moreover, as the distance between him and her grew closer, the rough breathing he could hear was also concerning.

Samte debated whether to continue staying in place or move. But Helena’s reaction was faster. As if she too was walking without looking ahead, she bumped right into his chest.

“Are you alright?”

Samte hurriedly supported her. Helena nodded without properly looking at him, then hurried away with frantic steps.

Left alone, Samte stood dumbfounded and felt around the chest area of his gray robe. Two small black dots were spotted there. They were damp spots.

Without realizing it, Samte turned around to check Helena’s retreating figure. He could see her slender shoulders trembling from time to time. The tear-streaked face he had just seen was not his imagination.

‘Miss…..Helena.’

Samte returned to his room, took off his robe, and slumped into a chair. The chair that Flam had adjusted to fit his build was large enough that his legs wouldn’t stick out, even if he couldn’t sit comfortably.

Seeing someone’s crying face felt strange. It also made him restless.

Samte habitually brought his hand to the back of his neck. When he pulled up the crude metal chain from inside his t-shirt, a coin at the end clinked. It was an Instantia copper coin.

Samte continuously rubbed the grimy thing. Thirteen years ago, his father, who had been sold as a slave, had miraculously returned and given it to him.

His father said he had been able to escape from a house in Instantia where he had been imprisoned, with the help of a certain girl.

The girl came every day to provide food and water, and on the day she unlocked his chains, she even provided travel money for his journey home. The Instantia copper coin was that travel money.

More unbelievable than his father’s return, Samte had stopped crying and asked.

[That child… freed them? The slaves?]

[Yes.]

[So… ‘Papa’ too?]

Even foreigners?

Unless one was insane, there was no one in the world who would treat slaves, let alone foreigners, as human beings. At least that had been Samte’s life experience.

Understanding his implicit question, his father gently stroked Samte’s round head and said.

[The world isn’t just this forest cabin, Samte. Even on this land, there are people who help beings like us.]

As if to prove this outright, his father had not returned alone. From behind his father’s large back, a boy with silver hair as dirty as a coin peeked out. He appeared to be the same age as Samte or perhaps a year or two older.

Ambition that couldn’t be obscured by worldly stains shone clearly in his eyes.

The boy extended his hand to Samte.

[From now on, I’m going to give my all to rise to the capital. To create a world where you and I can stand purely on this land. Will you… come with me?]

Samte looked blankly at the hand, glanced at his father once, brought his eyes back to the hand, and then took it.

In truth, it was a moment that required no hesitation. It was a proposal he couldn’t refuse, a person he couldn’t help but follow.

And so, years later, the boy ascended to the throne, and Samte proudly became his shield, as his name suggested. He protected him as the first foreigner knight.

And now, selected as an elite unit guarding Rihalt’s moon, he had arrived in Instantia, the land his father had once walked.

‘From the beginning… there was no other choice.’

Samte emerged from the waves of the past and suddenly looked out the window. Unlike then, clean silver hair was passing by. Seeing him reminded him of the crying face from earlier, as if they were a pair.

Samte forgot to put on his robe and rushed outside hastily.

“-My lord.”

Ian, who had been striding along, stopped at Samte’s call. As soon as he turned around, Samte spoke as if making a sudden confession.

“What you mentioned before, I’ll give it a try.”

****

Returning to the hotel, Eugene continuously recalled Helena’s tearful face. It wasn’t simply the scene of his wife crying.

It was a crack.

Finally, a crack had opened. Then the only thing to do was to dig into it.

Whether the gouged crack bled or festered, he had to pry it open by any means necessary. He had to hold it open so it couldn’t heal. If it healed, it would be completely over.

Eugene swallowed once as if suppressing his irritating mood, unfamiliar with the feeling of craving something. It was a sensation he had forgotten to live with after meeting Helena, after holding their wedding ceremony.

From their very first meeting, it had been like that. She was a woman who couldn’t be swayed by what he possessed. She was a woman who had followed him looking only at his complete self.

But…

[There’s no way I could want anything from you.]

[Tell me you loved me. Tell me you don’t love me now. Don’t look at me with those disgusting eyes and just say it!]

No matter how much he tried to grasp her, Helena slipped away like grains of sand. There was nothing left he could hold onto. He couldn’t bring her back with any plea, with his very existence. So there was only one remaining means.

‘Once she returns, then… everything will change. Me too, you too. It won’t be the same as before.‘

This time, no matter how much she struggled, it would be useless. Everything was destined to return to its original state. Helena was, above all, a woman who responded best to inertia.

While Eugene was organizing his messy thoughts, Walter announced that Baron Spencer had arrived. To him, who entered bowing and scraping, Eugene tilted his head toward the seat opposite him.

Not a single word of formal greeting was exchanged, but Garta received even that perfunctory nod with gratitude.

“What business did you have in summoning me…”

Eugene again exercised his right to silence. Only after puffing on his cigarette smoke a few times did he open his mouth.

“I had a bird I was raising. I took in one with an injured leg and cherished it… but it ran away. To another cage.”

“…You must be deeply saddened.”

Though unable to grasp the intention immediately, Garta quickly groveled. It sounded exactly like the squealing of a pig with its snout buried in a feed trough, causing Eugene to briefly hold a faint sneer.

But there was also some truth to his words. If it were merely heartbreak, he wouldn’t have come this far. Eugene brought his glass to his lips while holding the cigarette between his fingers.

As he swallowed a sip of whiskey, the bitterness on his tongue seemed to subside. Eugene killed the sigh that was about to escape and continued speaking.

“But what’s done is done. The bird absolutely won’t come out no matter how much food I offer or how much I coax it. What would you do in my place?”

“…Couldn’t you just catch it and pull it out? I believe Your Grace’s abilities would make that entirely possible…”

“What if it gets hurt in the process?”

Eugene’s voice suddenly carried weight. What was merely vibrations in the air took on substance and strangled Garta’s neck. Cold sweat traced down Garta’s spine.

Fortunately, though Garta was dull, he was quick to read situations. He rolled his eyes here and there before bowing his head flat.

“My inadequate mind cannot fathom your meaning. Since Your Grace seems to have a preferred method, I would be grateful if you could enlighten me.”

“It’s not what I want… it’s the only method.”

Eugene flicked his cigarette ash and raised his gaze. The golden eyes that met his seemed to pierce through his heart with their sharpness.

“What else is there besides shaking the cage?”