The Sword of a Dream

Frederick never found himself fit for the title of “the Finest Knight.”

That much had been clear since the day Tristan stepped into the scene. From the way he walked to the way he talked. It was all too perfect. If anyone deserved the title of the finest knight, it should have been him, right? But Tristan himself saw another truth. One Frederick could never.

Once there was a country boy. A commoner who knew no wisdom, and carried no power, and yet found himself in the Royal Knights Order. He trained with the most elite warriors of the Kingdom, and grew to battle against monsters all over.

At first he was heavily ostracized, being seen as someone unfit to wield the sword under the king’s name. Yet maybe, because deep down that wasn’t what he was fighting for, the boy never faltered, and never backed down. He continued swinging his blade, from the start of dawn to long after nightfall. Even when all the other trainees had fallen asleep, the boy still swung his blade. No one ever took notice of this–except the Gifted Knight himself.

Basking in the moonlight where he needn’t put up a front, the boy who joined the order merely out of obligation watched the talentless Frederick endlessly swing his sword.

It was then he saw “it.” The spark that no other knight could ever replicate.

*******

The beast continued barreling towards the village. The outer walls did nothing to stop it. It kept running. Running straight toward the center.

But this was wrong, where did it come from? The demons previously came from within the caves, this one just appeared out of the forests. Frederick turned, ready to give the order as it entered the borders of the village, but Darakota shouted–

“Oi Oi Oi, the hell is this!?” and jumped out of the way as it barreled through.

Frustrated, the adventurer took his mace and swung at rapid speeds like a whip, and slammed it onto the creature's black, grotesque, foul-smelling flesh. At the same time, off in the distance, arrows rained, courtesy of the Green Hood.

However, while the strikes were no doubt of great power, the beast completely absorbed the impact. The arrows sunk into its flesh, and so would the mace had Darakota not pulled it back.

Then it stopped and stood frozen.

Having such a large creature standing so perfectly still was in itself strange, yet it only lasted for a moment before tentacles protruded from its body alongside deep crimson eyeballs that, every time it blinked, moistened themselves with blood.

Its pupils darted around in all directions, following no rhyme or reason until all at once, they stopped, finding its targets. Half looked straight onto the church, and the other down on the ground where the adventurer stood–and then it shot.

Robin felt chills run down his spine and quickly tried jumping off the church belfry.

The arrows it had absorbed were shot back with much more power, and in less than a second, completely destroyed the belfry with one shot. And even though he anticipated it, Robin wasn’t able to avoid all the debris that came his way.

One particular piece struck him badly, sending him crashing onto a rooftop nearby.

“Robin!” Frederick shouted, but in reality, he was the lucky one–the man on the ground wasn’t so lucky.

Before Darakota could process the attack, his liver had already been pierced. He fell to the ground bleeding and coughing up blood.

“Oh my~... What a terrifying beast!”

While Nout’n was gazing at the majestic nightmare of a creature, translucent chains erupted from the ground to wrap and prevent it from moving forward.

“Help me guide it away from the village, it’s likely approaching the church due to all the people inside,” Tristan said, suddenly appearing beside Nout’n.

“Yes Sir!” Nout’n replied with a salute, then snapped his fingers.

Behind him, five flaming wisps of an assortment of colors appeared and shimmered, before flying onto the beast and exploding on impact. Meanwhile, Tristan rushed to slash its thick hard legs. Unlike its upper body which almost seemed like sludge, its legs were harder than steel.

Tristan clicked his tongue in dismay, but the time had run out. The creature had broken through the chains he conjured up, and out again it sprouted tendrils with eyeballs. Just like moments prior, it had looked straight at them, as if taking aim.

“Uhm… Sir Tristan, we seem to have gotten its attention~” Nout’n said.

“Damn it, I know!”

Just then, Tristan bolted as fast as he could while the creature roared and charged after them. He was slower than Robin, which in normal cases would spell his death immediately, but rather than relying on speed, he used his terrain. Using several chains like a net, eventually making his position barely visible. And when the creature would lose interest, he’d show himself to strike again. All the while Nout’n did the same.

“Guh–!” Tristan gasped.

As he passed by one of the houses, a demon tackled him from the side, sending him tumbling down a slope and crashing right onto a minecart and knocking the wind out of his lungs. He quickly decapitated it, but it was too late, the creature had found him.

“Shit…” Tristan got up as quickly as he could, ignoring the searing pain in his side, but it was too late, the monster had reached him and running on his own two legs wouldn't be enough.

It was getting closer, and wailed again, it was getting ready to strike!

When the creature finally launched its attack, the ground exploded once more, but rather than being in the center of the blast, Tristan found himself being carried by a giant wolf sprinting on the ground. It had bitten his arm and kept running, digging its teeth into his arm.

“NGH–” Tristan groaned.

“Stop squirmin’ around, ya prick!” a voice chimed. It had not come from another person around, but from the wolf itself. The terrifying creature standing two meters tall and four meters long spoke like a human.

“You’re a werewolf?!”

The giant wolf that had been pulling his arm was Darakota.

“Did that old man not tell ya? What a weird one, that guy,” he replied. “Don’t let go! It’s gainin’ on us!”

“I can’t let go, your teeth are digging into my ar–ARGH!”

“Stop movin’!”

“YOU’RE THE ONE SHAKING TOO MUCH!”

Every second he was being carried like this was a second the teeth would dig deeper into his bones. And even this eventually became futile as the creature had almost caught up to them, and would easily crush them with its thick foot. Darakota could have run faster, but even he was aware that being any less careful would tear off Tristan’s arm.

The beast wailed. It had been attacked. This time by the Black Wizard who took its attention away. The large monster was faster and stronger than any monster their team had faced so far. It would be no stretch to say that if they had faced it like normal, they would all easily be wiped out. But that wasn’t the case. They had a trump card. A key to defeating an unbeatable creature. All they had to do was reach him.

“Horrifying, terrific, terrifying. Oh~! I feel like I’m going to die. Is this what it feels like to be a hero!? So exhilarating~! Don’t worry, leave this to me! WOAH!”

Now the target of the beast, Nout’n had no choice but to run and apply the same tactics Tristan did. Covering the houses with vines. Only this time, he’d use his wisps to change the beast’s focus whenever it got too close.

“Don’t worry, keep moving forward, you’re almost there!” Tristan shouted.

“Aye Aye~!”

And there, finally, they made it out of the village. The smoke made the open fields difficult to navigate, but victory was already in sight. Contrasting the cold aura of the beast, there was something else in the air. Warmth. And in this seemingly impossible to overcome situation, there was light at the end of the tunnel.

There on the hilltop, watching as the rampaging giant headed their way was one man. Gazing at him from afar was an old master who had taught almost everything he could, the one to stand alone was the resilient student who wouldn’t give up on his childish ideals.

“It’s coming,” Sir Logan said, holding onto his looking glass. “They have forged this path for you. Don’t waste it, Frederick. Give them the path to victory.”

“By your command, master,” the Finest Knight replied, drawing his glowing sword with absolute conviction.

Seeing the two already in position, Tristan pulled out his looking glass in pain and shouted–

“Nout’n, move out the way!”

“Yes Sir~!”

Nout’n sprouted thick vines from the ground and pulled himself in, deeper and deeper until he was completely underground.

Meanwhile, back at the church, Robin got up, hand on his head as he shook off the concussion. He still stumbled with every step, but after sloppily jumping up onto a rooftop, he watched as the monster drew closer and closer to Frederick, who seemingly had no intent of stepping away. Instead, he raised his sword that glowed with an aura that danced with fire and gold, and stood calmly.

He looked like an ant next to the beast, but even then, he didn’t feel smaller at all.

Legend has it, a long, long time ago, there was a noble hero who fought for justice and truth. A being that embodied the ideals of what a knight should strive to be. One day they crossed paths with a powerful dragon that had been tormenting a village for hundreds of years prior. It was a great and powerful beast, yet the hero never faltered. Instead, he faced it head on, and with his blade in hand, he raised it and swung down, bringing victory and peace despite the impossible odds.

There Sir Frederick stood, calm as his blade glowed and finally chanted–

“In my hands is the tool that gives me purpose.

A weapon to overcome darkness and bring light.

I protect. I fight. For truth and justice.

To slay hundreds is my mission.

To protect thousands is my duty.

Till death I swear to stand by thee.

To the weapon that gives me meaning–

I ask once more for your assistance.

So here I call thy name… Avalon!!!”

The sword glowed brighter and brighter till it enveloped every corner of the village, its radiance echoing that of which could only be found in legends, and with one clean and mesmerising slash from above, the light it birthed cleaved heaven and earth and eclipsed the monster, wrapping it in its grandeur till it faded out of existence, and with it, an explosive ring that carved the grounds tens of meters wide, and hundreds of meters across.

Therein lies the technique of the Finest Knight, Avalon.

What immediately followed was the tenacious ring in the ears of anyone who was close enough to experience the shockwave of his attack. Afterward, bits of dirt fell like tiny pricks against their skin. And lastly, the clouding dust began to settle.

One strike was all it took, and then tranquility and peace returned. The cries of the demons disappeared.

Once everything had settled, like the pulling of curtains, what was unveiled was a lone man standing atop the hill, gazing at the heavens. Somehow, even after his victory, he still seemed deeply alone.

What was he feeling? What was in his heart?

To the ones who could see him, that was the only thing that came to mind.

Until finally, a cry echoed off in the distance.

“W–We’re saved!!!” and people ran out in joy.

The demons that pillaged their village had been dealt with.

Mirtue Village was saved.