Tale of the Fake Hero

Chapter 4

"The swordsmanship I use is called Tenfold Cross Blade."

As the morning sun shone through the drifting volcanic ash, casting a distorted red hue, Camilla's training began.

On the battlefield, in the southern lands, it was always like this.

The world consumed by the Abyss underwent bizarre geographical mutations, turning mountains into volcanoes that ceaselessly spewed smoke and ash into the sky. Only after rainfall could one glimpse a sky reminiscent of the old world.

"It’s a technique that integrates both offense and defense, utilizing both the sword and the scabbard."

In her right hand, the sword.

In her left, the scabbard.

The way she crossed the two exuded an indescribable elegance.

"Tenfold Cross Blade? What a lame name."

Was it named after the cross-shape formed when the sword and scabbard intersected?

"Hey, you little bastard. Every successor of Aradamantel has used this style. Show some respect."

"Hmph."

"Hmph? Hmmm? Hmmmm? Did your father tell you to cross your arms and go 'hmph' when showing respect?"

Looking back, Camilla never invoked his mother when making irreverent remarks.

"Stop hitting my head! Why are we talking about my dad?"

"Brats like you, who were raised with no proper discipline, need to be beaten regularly to instill some humanity. Now, I’m curious—what did your old man look like?"

"He was handsome! Extremely handsome!"

"Judging by your wrecked face, I highly doubt that."

Every time the mercenaries observed Camilla training Kaisen, they found it remarkable.

'Lady Camilla has never been this talkative before.'

'And to think she’s actually teaching someone.'

'Any other kid would’ve been knocked out cold and thrown out by now.'

For Johann Wolf Frost, the feeling was even more profound, though he didn’t yet understand why.

It was both heartwarming and bittersweet.

He didn't realize it was the weight of sorrow Kaisen carried as the son of the former commander.

"Listen carefully. To use this power, you need to learn two types of mana control."

"Mana control?"

"First, for wielding the sword in your right hand, you’ll use Mana Chain. It’s the act of extending the mana within you like roots throughout your body."

Suddenly, the tip of her blade lunged toward Kaisen’s face, causing cold sweat to bead on his skin.

'But the sword shouldn’t be able to reach me from this distance?'

A crimson aura coiled around the blade, extending its reach impossibly far.

'Right… This is what my mother used back then…'

When grief burns in the heart, it becomes wrath. Kaisen barely managed to suppress it.

"Most swordsmen rely on Mana Chain. The core techniques of Tenfold Cross Blade originate from it, but do you think that alone will be enough to take down the Uruk?"

"Then what?"

"You also need to wield Mana Heart. Hey, Wolf!"

A mathematical calculation unfolded in Wolf’s mind, disrupting a small corner of the world's natural order.

Suddenly, frost coalesced in his palm, solidifying into an icicle.

The icicle shot toward them at breakneck speed, but it rebounded off a crimson barrier that flared from Camilla’s scabbard.

"The sword for offense, the scabbard for defense?"

"You need to master both. You sure like taking the easy route, huh? …That said, since you’re a man, you won’t be able to use Tenfold Cross Blade in its true form."

"Why not?"

"Men can’t wield Mana Chain with the same precision as women. The difference is so vast it’s almost laughable."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Instead, men can wield it in a much larger, more powerful way. That’s why male swordmasters who reach the expert level tend to use heavy weapons to compensate."

"Are you telling me to change weapons?"

"We’ll see, but there is a way for you to utilize your naturally greater mana reserves within Tenfold Cross Blade."

"And that is...?"

"Iaijutsu—Draw Techniques."

"Iaijutsu?"

"That’s right. Since you were born with a dick, you’ll need to focus on a Tenfold Cross Blade style that specializes in draw techniques. That’s my assessment. Historically, no man has ever become Feiquaria or mastered Tenfold Cross Blade."

"Iaijutsu is just for show. It’s only useful for assassinations or countering assassins. I don’t like it."

"You brainless idiot, Tenfold Cross Blade’s Iaijutsu is different from all others."

For an instant—

Camilla grasped the scabbard with her left hand and the hilt with her right, and the atmosphere shifted.

Oppressively heavy, razor-sharp.

"What did I say? You use Mana Heart with your left hand."

A torrent of mana surged from her palm, flowing into the scabbard.

"What happens when you keep filling a leather pouch with water?"

"It bursts."

"Exactly. Tenfold Cross Blade’s Iaijutsu works on the same principle."

Mana piled up inside the scabbard like a growing mountain, reaching its absolute limit. The sheer heat of condensed energy made Camilla’s hand tremble.

"Once the scabbard is filled to the brim, you bind the compressed energy with Mana Chain for an instant—and then release it in a single explosive burst."

And then—

Camilla drew her sword.

Kaisen didn’t see the slash itself—only the result.

Perhaps this was what standing at the heart of a perfect sword dance felt like. A form of art born from the blade.

As the sunlight reflected off the drawn steel, a crisp slicing sound echoed.

Three massive trees in the forest behind them split cleanly in half and collapsed.

Was it childish excitement? Kaisen felt his body tremble with awe.

"Teach me how to use it."

"Like this."

Wait…?

A sudden, searing pain exploded in his chest, turning his vision blood-red.

It was only after the excruciating sensation that he realized—

Camilla had stabbed his heart with her scabbard.

The force of the energy ripped through his veins, sending shockwaves through his entire body. Blood spurted from his mouth, nose, and eyes.

"Breathe, idiot! If you lose consciousness, you’ll die."

As the world darkened into crimson hues and twisted, his balance shattered, and the horizon flipped upside down.

"Normally, it takes years of training to use this technique. But am I crazy enough to waste years on you?"

"...?"

"I just forcefully opened the mana pathways in your body. If you can’t handle it, the backlash will kill you. If you survive... well, we’ll see."

As Kaisen writhed in agony on the blood-stained field, the mercenaries shook their heads knowingly.

Johann and Eltoram, however, wore serious expressions.

As Camilla passed Johann, the frost-eyed mage muttered,

"I never expected you to favor Kaisen this much."

"What?"

"You didn’t just open his mana points—you’re sharing your own energy. Are you sure you’ll be alright after giving away that much?"

"Hmph. I’m just returning what was given to me."

"Returning? What do you mean?"

"I don’t need it anymore. Now shut up, I’m tired."

Yeah.

This was something her master had entrusted to her.

'If he blames me later, so be it. He chose the path of the sword himself.'

***

While Kaisen was recovering from his internal injuries, he was assigned to the Third Squad.

"Until you recover, clean up their mess. At least learn the basics of combat so you don’t become a burden."

The squad members didn’t dislike Kaisen—in fact, they were initially thrilled to have an adorable new recruit.

"What should I do?"

"What do you mean? Don’t do anything."

"Just stay still?"

When it came to battle, they were strict and refused to let Kaisen participate easily.

"If you really want to be useful, warm up my bed. You’re pretty enough that if I close my eyes, I might mistake you for a woman."

"Hahaha!"

The sergeant making the crude jokes was Jin, known as Long Rifle Jin.

The long rifle was one of the most powerful steam firearms, but it was also notoriously difficult to aim, reload, and incredibly expensive.

Using such a weapon meant Jin was a veteran among veterans—after all, surviving long enough to afford one was proof enough. He claimed he had been wielding it for nearly fifteen years.

Kaisen had even seen Jin shoot down an Uruk war captain from 200 meters away with flawless precision.

"Shut up and watch, Uruk Slayer. We’re not Uruk—you might be skilled, but that doesn’t mean we all are. You probably don’t even know what a squad is."

At this time, squads were formed based on the Iron Bird Formation (鉄鳥陣), a tactical doctrine designed for survival.

Two spearmen.

Four riflemen.

One sergeant.

Seven members made up a squad.

It was called the Iron Bird Formation because, like migrating birds, the squad would form a V-shaped battle formation.

Ten squads made a platoon, five platoons made a company, and three companies made a battalion. Naturally, the larger the unit, the bigger the V-shaped formation became.

"The two spearmen stand at the front, while the riflemen spread out like wings on either side."

"Hmm."

"The spearmen use their two-meter-long pikes to hold back the Uruk, while the riflemen fire from behind and reload while taking cover."

"Then what about me?"

"You? Sit back and suck your thumb. Think about your dream girl while you kill time. Maybe Lady Camilla?"

"You’re going to get yourself killed."

"My apologies, Lady Camilla. But I’d rather die than lie."

Jin had intended to teach Kaisen marksmanship.

After all, a kid wielding a sword against an Uruk warrior was absurd.

However, no matter how much he tried to learn, Kaisen only saw the limitations of firearms.

"Too heavy."

First, he needed to equip a SteamCore—also called a Prispia Core—to use a steam rifle.

Prispia was the name of the inventor of steam technology. At the time, the technology was primitive, requiring soldiers to wear a steam engine like a backpack just to fire a rifle.

The Prispia Core connected to the rifle through ten tubes, supplying power for firing.

As a result, their military packs had an impractical hole right in the middle.

"How do you even fight while carrying this?"

When Kaisen grumbled in frustration, Jin and the other mercenaries chuckled before bursting into laughter.

"Pfft, hahaha!"

"Hahaha!"

Was this some cultural gap?

What was so funny about that?

"It’s been so long since we heard something like that!"

"?"

"Not just us, but all Feiquaria corps recruit only skilled fighters. We pay them well too. It’s been ages since we had a recruit complain about heavy gear. Damn, seeing it again is almost cute."

They were the White Skull Corps.

White helmets engraved with skulls, pure white uniforms, and flowing white cloaks.

Their attire symbolized supreme confidence—no enemy's blood would ever stain them.

"Don’t pinch my cheeks."

"Hahaha! Imagine making history as the man who pinched the Uruk Slayer’s cheeks and lived to tell the tale."

"Then me too."

"Me too."

"Hey, stop it!"

If he weren’t injured, he would have beaten them all to a pulp.

He had no interest in marksmanship, but he figured learning the squad’s combat strategies was beneficial. So he joined their training.

Not by his own decision, but because Johann had subtly hinted at it.

"Think about why Camilla assigned you to a squad, specifically this squad with Jin."

"With current technology, each magazine holds five bullets. Do you know what that means?"

After firing all five rounds, reloading was necessary—a process that required significant skill.

An average soldier took 30 seconds.

Experienced soldiers in the corps could reload in about 10 seconds.

Jin? He did it in six.

"Shooting, reloading—every battle has a rhythm. Understanding the rhythm of combat leads to understanding the rhythm of war."

A heat that no armchair strategist could ever grasp.

"Squad, form ranks! Fourth Iron Bird Formation!"

At Jin’s command, the squad members immediately wiped the humor from their faces.

In an instant, they formed a V-formation.

In battle, the ability to form ranks quickly determined life and death.

‘So this is the Iron Bird Formation.’

Even if he never mastered firearms, Kaisen now fully understood the structure of a firearm-based formation.

Rest periods weren’t just for training—they were also moments where fated encounters occurred.

The core members of the corps were known as the Hero’s Party—a four-member unit.

Feiquaria Camilla.

Johann, the Frost Magician.

Eltoram, the White Bear.

Jin, the Long Rifle.

Originally, there had been a fifth member, a healer, but she had died in battle.

The corps treated one another like blood brothers.

Eltoram and Jin led their respective units, not in a strict hierarchy but as close comrades.

The exceptions were Camilla and Johann.

Camilla wasn’t a friend—she was their revered hero.

Even veterans like Jin would joke with her occasionally, but everyone knew to respect the boundaries.

Camilla was the corps’ stern father, while Johann was the gentle mother—albeit with their roles reversed.

Strict as she was, Camilla had never abandoned a single soldier (so long as they were alive), and under that firm trust, the soldiers followed her without question.

Except for one.

Jin emphasized that point multiple times.

Amid countless battlefields of carnage, Camilla had never once abandoned a single soldier.

"Both of them are incredible. Our corps is the strongest among all Feiquaria corps. You wouldn’t believe how many people are lined up, desperate to join us."

Jin proudly gestured to his stark white uniform and the eerie skull insignia on his helmet.

"Pure white uniforms symbolize confidence—we won’t let a single drop of enemy blood stain them. And we are the rightful successors of the Crimson Lotus Corps."

"Crimson Lotus Corps?"

"You don’t know? It was the legendary corps led by Laminea Alter Aradamantel."

Since Camilla and Johann had once been part of Laminea’s Crimson Lotus Corps last summer, the Crimson Lotus Corps was naturally seen as the predecessor of the White Skull Corps.

'In other words, they knew my mother.'

Camilla had been her direct disciple. He wondered what kind of mentor his mother had been.

"Tch, idiot. Useless at everything. I swear, I’m just curious what your father looked like."

Well, she probably wasn’t like this.

He was curious, but he didn’t ask. He didn’t reveal his identity. There were more pressing questions to be answered.

That name, that swordsmanship.

The way of slaughter—the tool for offering living sacrifices before his mother’s altar. He had to learn it now.

[Among the Six Demon Clans, there was a barbaric race known as the Gigabone—the Uruk.]

Since he couldn’t train in swordsmanship until his body fully recovered, he fueled his thirst for vengeance by reading Johann’s historical chronicles.

[The Uruk led the first wave of the invasion in 1692. These towering giants, each averaging seven feet in height, overwhelmed the Old Republic effortlessly.]

The Uruk shattered the southern strongholds within fifty days, dividing their forces into left, right, and center armies, and ravaged the entire nation with an almost absurdly explosive momentum.

[During this time, the Papal Order dispatched the Feiquaria warriors. Their mission was to hold the line until the refugees could retreat behind the Inferno Line...]

Wait.

Just wait a little longer.

I will come for you soon.

"Idiot! You can’t even do this? Swing the sword so it whistles through the air."

"?"

"Ha, how do I deal with this moron? Whoosh! Swish! Get it? Whoosh, swish, whoosh, swish. Is that so hard?"

"?"

"Are you telling me you can’t do it? Are you messing with me on purpose just to piss me off?"

"!"

"Try it. Just try! See? It worked!"

But getting to that point had been a brutal ordeal.

Wolf sighed as he watched, adding another note to the journal where he meticulously recorded Kaisen’s childhood.

[If nothing else, Kaisen may have been the perfect student for enduring even this kind of training.]

When he wrote that, Wolf quietly chuckled as he observed Camilla and Kaisen.

Camilla, who was normally cold and indifferent, had an unusually expressive and relaxed demeanor when teaching Kaisen. And Kaisen, in turn, was the same.

"Camilla doesn’t seem to hate teaching as much as she claims."

Beside him, Jin, who was carefully maintaining his long rifle with a cigarette in his mouth, smirked mischievously.

"It’s like watching a baby chick."

"A baby chick?"

"Yeah. No matter what the mother hen does, the chick tries to imitate it. It’s adorable—so much so that my little sister went crazy over ours."

"What happened to it?"

"It ended up on our dinner table for my tenth birthday."

"...Did you have to add that last part, Jin?"

"Lying isn’t my style. Anyway, even as a bystander, it’s charming to watch. Imagine how it must feel for the mother."

A mother and child...

Jin’s words made Wolf smile wistfully.

"At Camilla’s age, it wouldn’t be strange for her to have a child of her own."

But Camilla was Feiquaria, and Feiquaria warriors became infertile through bodily modification.

'Yeah. But if Camilla hadn’t become Feiquaria...'