Chapter 4: Young Hearts (1)

Young Hearts (1)

In the four-person room of the orphanage dormitory, I sat on the bed, gazing into the mirror.

Golden hair grown thick like a stray dog. A set of deep-blue eyes. A face line that still hasn't lost its baby fat. A height that doesn't exceed 170, and proportions that I can somewhat be proud of.

That's me at eighteen.

Usually, eighteen is when growth is nearing its end, and most people don't deviate much from the physique established at this time. But I was different.

I grew taller, stronger.

Ironically, thanks to my Cancer of the Magic's Core.

As the cancer cells of the Magic's Core proliferate, they emit a special mana called 'fission force', which touches the skeletal system including the growth plate, forcing abnormal 'tertiary growth'.

Of course, the growth isn't infinite. At some point, the body adapts to the fission force of the cancer cells and gains resistance.

Anyway, I grow nearly 30cm taller here. My bones and muscles become stronger, and my already good proportions are honed into a good structure for combat.

That's why I could even survive at the bottom.

The insides were rotting, but the outside were tough.

"...Three days."

I looked at the calendar. The match was just around the corner.

I've trained quite hard in the meantime. I've built core muscles in a week, loosened my body enough to adapt to training, and subscribed to many channels.

Boxing with [Sen-gun], Judo with [Body-Beater Degel], Swordsmanship with [Active Knight A].

Look-See-Do was faithfully applied in all these processes, and I confirmed that this was the 'passive' of the「Notepad」.

[33 / 100]

Capacity history within the last 24 hours: +3

Even though I didn't remember anything, the capacity increased by 3.

"Ah, my body aches."

Of course, even with Look-See-Do, it takes time, training, and effort to 'properly' follow those movements.

However, there is also a way to 'pull' proficiency while skipping all of that.

You just need to infuse mana.

For example, just because I target a 100m sprinter with 'Look-See-Do' doesn't mean I can run 100m in 5 seconds.

Obviously, because my athletic ability is lacking. Because the muscles essential for running are not formed.

But if I get the assistance of magic power, I can roughly, or rather 'forcibly', come close.

The price is tremendous muscle pain.

"Should I start heading out?"

I looked at the clock on my phone and pushed myself up.

It was almost time for my training session and the appointment.

I had an appointment too.

* * *

"Hey, Shion."

As soon as I sat down on the bench in the orphanage park, someone called me. It was a rough-looking man.

He approached with his hands shoved in his pockets and sat down next to me.

"You seem pretty fucking relaxed, don't you?"

His voice was tense, teeth gritted.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"There are only three days left. You guys should also start resting and managing your condition."

"...No shit, Sherlock. What the fuck's with you, really? You weren't like this before. You used to train like a madman even without being told!"

I looked at him. His skin was a dusky color, covered in freckles, his black hair was wavy and shiny, and his physique was robust.

He was a distinctive man, but I couldn't remember who he was.

I sighed, muttering under my breath.

"I can't train like that anymore. I've gotten too old. My body isn't in good shape."

"Are you fucking crazy? What do you mean, old?"

Physical exercise is poison to me. I'm limited in how much I can move my body in the first place. That's how it is for Magic Core cancer patients.

You wouldn't understand unless you've experienced it.

"Enough, you bastard! Even if we're all old enough to be independent soon, those kids will still have to stay here."

He pointed to a playground in one corner of the park.

There were many children playing on the swings with their small hands and feet, climbing jungle gyms, and playing games like cops and robbers, and hide and seek.

"If we lose, everything will be destroyed. If they get adopted, they're lucky, but if they don't, no one knows which orphanage they'll be scattered to. You know that. They could even be sold to another country!"

He ranted and put his hand on my shoulder.

"...Ah. Right. You're Telrun."

Then I suddenly remembered.

Telrun.

I know this guy.

When I had to shave my head for brain tumor surgery. There was a guy who acted tough in front of the kids at the orphanage who were making fun of me, saying 'it's childish to make fun of something like that'.

"You wanted to be a Knight of Libra, didn't you?"

"...That's old news."

Telrun slightly furrowed his brow. I saw the sword hanging at his waist. It was a broadsword.

"Are you planning to fight with a sword?"

"I have to. I even got praised by Instructor Dent. Not as much as you, though. Your dad was a Knight of Libra."

A Knight of Libra.

My father was.

If you can call a low-ranking knight a knight.

I looked at the playground of the orphanage and asked.

"...Do you like Libra?"

"What? You're fucking crazy. We're here thanks to the Libra lords."

"Is that so?"

Well, that's the obvious reaction.

My resentment is only my own.

"Ah, forget it."

Telrun dusted off his butt and stood up.

"You're a fucking disappointment."

"Save your disappointment for later. I have no intention of losing."

"...Really? Then I'll trust you. There's nothing else I can do but trust."

Telrun pouted as he spoke. I smiled inwardly.

He's a dignified guy. Quite mature for an eighteen-year-old.

Waaaaaa——

Then, two little kids appeared from the other side of the walking path.

They were 3 and 5 years old. The now familiar children were running towards me, their mouths wide open, calling my name.

Shion——.

Telrun cocked his head to one side.

"Berry, Bell? Why are they? Are they your friends?"

I glanced at the time on my smartphone.

It was precisely 10:30.

"I promised them 30 minutes of smartphone time each day."

"What? What phone?"

"This one."

I pulled my smartphone from my pocket.

"...Where did you get that? Can I take a look too?"

At that, Telrun's expression mirrored that of Berry and Bell, who were sprinting towards us from a distance.

* * *

February 25, 2013.

Noon, on the day of the match to protest the closure of the orphanage.

Under the bright sun on the training field, I stood in line with nine others, including Telrun.

"...Are you ready?"

The atmosphere in the orphanage was tense, but within it was an inexplicable hope called faith.

It belonged to all the children. True to their nature, the children believed in the victory of 'our home'.

"There's no need to be nervous. Just show them what you've got. They're not unbeatable."

Dent said. I looked around. Small children and slightly older ones were sitting in the stands. There were many teachers from the orphanage as well.

They seemed to be cheering us on, but it was rather burdensome. There were about 600 of them. Thanks to that, the nine warriors were already trembling.

"They're coming."

Telrun clenched his fist, looking somewhere.

——Vroom.

A mercenary truck appeared at the entrance of the orphanage. They parked neatly in a corner of the training field and got out in droves.

"Ah~ here we are. Nice to meet you."

A bald man who seemed to be the person in charge approached Dent. He was quite neatly dressed in leather armor.

"I'm Rohas, the deputy leader of the Blue Claw Mercenary Group."

"I'm Dent, an instructor at the orphanage, a junior knight with eight years of experience."

"Yes. I've heard about the situation at the orphanage. Are these the ten?"

Dent nodded. The deputy leader scanned us briefly.

"We've also prepared as balanced a team as possible. All members have less than a year of real combat experience. Here, these are their credentials. Please take a look."

The bald man was talking nonsense.

"They may be young, but once they've promised a fee and a victory bonus, they won't take it lightly."

Unlike his natural bullshit, his attitude was gentlemanly. He was an active knight, even if he was posing as a mercenary.

The bald deputy leader looked at us and said,

"I hope you all prove your skills, protect what you want, and win it."

Swoosh——.

Mixed with his voice was a quiet rumble, quite different from the mercenary truck.

Three luxury sedans reflecting the sunlight were coming into the orphanage from afar. They slid closer, two of them stopped first, and the chauffeur got out and opened the back seat.

The faces coming out were familiar to me. There's no face among Libra's heavyweights that I don't know.

They were the confidants of the eldest son, Derek, who took the butler 'Henry' as his mentor.

"......."

My expression hardened. My veins pulsed.

I clenched my teeth and held back.

I found myself staring at the last of the three sedans. It seemed as if there was no intention of anyone emerging from it.

Perhaps 'Zia', the youngest of Libra, was inside. She was known for her extreme dislike of exposing herself to the outside world.

"Guests have arrived," announced the vice commander.

At his words, Telrun and the others tensed up even more. Meanwhile, Butler Henry and his companions had already seated themselves in high-end chairs.

Had they brought the chairs in the trunk?

"Who will go first?" asked the vice commander. Dent looked at us.

Telrun raised his hand sharply. "I'll go first."

His brave expression earned him a small smile from the vice commander.

"Good. And who's our representative?"

"I'll do it," responded a female mercenary. She had thick makeup and vividly dyed green hair. She even wore a mask, as if she had picked up some mercenary merchandise somewhere.

"Oh, a, a woman."

A blush momentarily appeared on Telrun's face. The mercenary chuckled and asked.

"Swordsman?"

"Huh? Oh, yes. I use a sword."

"I'm a swordsman too. You can go first."

Swallowing, Telrun gripped his broadsword. The mercenary also raised her curved sword. It was a scimitar.

I just watched quietly.

What kind of performance would they show in this match?

"The referees will be me, and Dent here."

"Yes."

"The rules are international duel rules. If you surrender, you lose. If there seems to be a risk of injury, the referee will intervene. This is a match, not a real duel."

"Understood."

Dent nodded.

"Then."

Ahem. The vice commander, after clearing his throat, shouted loudly.

"Come forward——!"

Telrun and the mercenary. The two climbed onto the stage set up in the center of the field.

"Ready!"

The mercenary extended her hand first. Telrun, still tense, took her hand.

A brief handshake.

The two then turned around, standing ten paces apart.

"——Begin!"

Despite the loud shout, the beginning was a reconnaissance battle. Neither Telrun nor the mercenary moved rashly.

It was a real sword fight.

A graze could kill, and a cut could kill.

"......I'm coming."

Before long, the one who very kindly announced 'I'm coming' was Telrun.

He stepped forward three steps and swung his sword. It was textbook-like, as if polished mainly from textbooks. The mercenary simply parried his sword.

Chang- Chang- Chang- Chang- Chang-

The sound of swords clashing.

No, to say 'clashing' was too monotonous and rhythmic.

"Tsk."

It wasn't worth watching.

Beyond just letting him off, she was putting on some kind of play. Matching Telrun's level and wasting time appropriately.

"Hua!"

Of course, Telrun didn't know. The gap in skill was too great, and the opponent's acting was unnecessarily professional.

"Kuh!"

On the stage, an ordinary person against a veteran actor. Two swords drawn in the air. Chaeang—— In the hollow echo, the exchange of real and fake.

"Kuaa!"

Sweat splashed from Telrun's tense body. Blood flowed from the hand gripping the sword.

Telrun poured out all of himself. His will was sufficient, and his heart was upright. Everything about him was 'real'.

However, this play itself was just a stage to deceive the 'real'.

"Haah!"

At some point, Telrun took a deep breath. Was he about to make a desperate move due to his fatigue? He twisted his body and swung his sword from top to bottom.

A strike loaded with weight.

The mercenary took a risky backstep and simultaneously launched a counterattack.

Shiik—!

With a single thrust, Telrun's guard was broken. The tip of the scimitar touched his throat.

"......"

"......"

They both stopped moving, wordlessly. As if in agreement, they stared at each other.

Haah, Haah-

Their rough breaths intertwined. Sweat dripped from Telrun's chin. The woman laughed breathlessly and said,

"Will you surrender, or should I stab?"

"......I surrender."

Telrun bowed his head with gritted teeth, and the children let out sighs.

The remaining warriors comforted Telrun as he trudged down from the stage.

"You did well."

"You tried hard. I saw it. You did well."

"......Sorry."

Even Telrun himself seemed somewhat relieved. He seemed to think that he had received some reward for his efforts.

I was disgusted.

Because it was a deception.

No, it was beyond deception, it was contempt.

"Victory to the Blue Claw Mercenaries! Next!"

The competition continued without a break.

One after Telrun, two, three, four...... The mercenaries' pace control was excellent in every match. Everyone in the orphanage watched with bated breath, but the result was obvious.

Pretending to push, pretending to pull, then the end.

End. End. End.

All nine lost.

"......Damn. 0 wins, 9 losses."

The deputy commander scratched the back of his neck as if he was troubled.

The nine losers sprawled on the ground, and the playground was already filled with the children's crying.

"The last one must be that guy. The son of a knight."

The deputy commander pointed at me.

"Shion Ascal."

Dent also looked at me, and I knew the meaning of his gaze.

Show me.

Or rather, show them

"It's quite a coincidence, the best fighter in our mercenary group is still left......"

"Hey. Give it to me."

I reached out to Telrun. Telrun, with a look of despair, blinked his eyes and then handed me his broadsword.

"......Shion, you said you wouldn't lose."

"I said that. But I don't know what will happen."

"What?"

Telrun frowned. I immediately climbed onto the stage. The opposing mercenary was already standing on the other side. He was a brown-haired man with camouflage cream between his eyes.

He asked,

"Are you a swordsman?"

I silently gripped the broadsword. It was heavy. The opponent also had the same broadsword. He laughed lazily, holding his sword down.

"Cute. Well, you're the son of a knight. But you know what? These days, the world has changed, and there are more knights who don't use swords."

——Ready!

The enemy is strong.

I don't know how strong he is yet, but for me now, it may be a realm that I can't even touch with my fingertips.

Therefore, he will definitely be off guard.

To put it metaphorically, I am an infant with a hidden gun. Instead of being on guard, he might be worried about me falling over.

He might even think of me as a newborn baby.

Start——!

The Chance of victory.

Is not zero.