The Will of a Good Man

"I, Hugo Darroway, in the presence of the heavens, solemnly swear my unwavering loyalty to the noble prince Gilgamesh Asura. I promise to protect his interests with honor and courage, to defend his kingdom against any threat, and to follow his guidance in times of peace and war. My sword and my heart are at his service, ready to act in his name whenever necessary. I pledge to uphold the code of knights with devotion, displaying virtue, courage, and justice in all my actions."

The first to step forward was a young man of about twenty-four years old. He appeared young, but his words were sincere, and his loyalty was more than enough for Gilgamesh.

"A good name, indeed. So listen carefully. Today, in this humble place, I dub you a knight of my guard. Your oath resonates with my pride, and I accept your allegiance. From this day forth, you are a guardian of my decisions and orders."

Gilgamesh then conjured a golden ripple that illuminated the knight's face. With closed eyes and calm, Hugo saw the hilt of a sword, and his soul stirred.

"As my absolute sword, I entrust you with this invaluable blade, unparalleled in the world. This weapon is not just a tool of power but a reflection of your purpose and a promise you have made. Both this sword and any that will be bestowed today will have the power to bend to their owner if they ever betray their oath."

"May this truth be a constant reminder of your duty and the steadfastness of your commitment. With this sword in your hand, you will embark on a glorious path, face challenges, and spill blood in the course of our destiny."

Gilgamesh then walked toward the next knight after bestowing that sword infused with a cursed master-servant contract magic, which not only utilized a contract but also granted potential abilities to the sword's user that would become more evident later. These abilities were something like blessings, but they applied only to the sword, not the man who didn't hold that sword. Moreover, if these guards were somehow sent by the enemy, the sword would act as one of their assailants and pierce through the bearer's chest.

Although it sounded really harsh, Gilgamesh judged that everything these men would receive in return would be worth it for pledging with their lives. So, as long as none had dangerous thoughts and actions, they would be fine.

After some time, all the knights except for Simon and Alastor had a new sword at their sides. And the ones they had been carrying entered Gilgamesh's Babylonian gate one by one without exception.

Gilgamesh directed a gaze at Simon, who stood by his side, and said, "You have one final task. Before receiving your sword, you must engage in a sword duel with Alastor, and after evaluating him, we will decide what to do with him."

"The confrontation will be with wooden swords, on equal terms, and the battle will end when one of you is disarmed or receives an attack that would be lethal in a real sword fight," Gilgamesh said, having high expectations for Alastor. That old man had a strong spirit despite his age.

Both contenders picked up a wooden sword, locked eyes, and waited for the moment to make the first move.

"I won't disappoint my lord, so I won't hold back," said Simon as he raised his sword and prepared himself.

Contrary to what everyone expected, Alastor raised his sword and, in the blink of an eye, disappeared from the spot, moving at a terrifying speed.

Thud!

Simon, who used a different sword technique than the others, prepared himself with composure and countered the attack with an excellent block that gave him momentum to advance.

Simon was close to being a Sword King, making him an excellent warrior with incredible potential for further improvement.

The battlefield resonated with the clash of wood against wood as the two figures faced each other in a deadly duel. Simon, the captain of Gilgamesh's guards, wielded his sword with overwhelming strength; his movements were aggressive and swift, like a powerful whirlwind seeking to annihilate his opponent. Facing him, elderly Alastor held his sword with serene control and unchanging grace.

Alastor's movements were smooth and calculated, as if each step he took had a purpose. He dodged Simon's attacks with astonishing agility, his body gliding like an evasive shadow, barely grazing the edges of the enemy's sword. His gaze was calm but intense, as if he were calculating every move of his opponent.

Simon, on the other hand, lunged with relentless fury. His strikes were powerful and brutal, but Alastor seemed to anticipate each one of them. The sound of wood clashing filled the place, and sweat beaded on the foreheads of the two contenders as they faced off in a duel of skill and will.

But as seconds passed, Alastor began to give ground. Simon's brute strength seemed to overwhelm him, and his movements grew slower. Simon's blows became more accurate, and his attacks began to land with greater force. Alastor retreated, his face reflecting the internal struggle he was waging.

"My grandson cannot see me lose..."

As he said this, in an instant, Alastor's eyes filled with an unyielding spirit. His movements changed, his body moved like a viper, evading and countering with impressive agility. Simon's attacks started to lose their focus as Alastor advanced with determination.

Boom!

In a fluid and precise movement, Alastor disarmed Simon. The sword of Gilgamesh's captain of the guards clattered to the ground with a loud noise, and the room fell momentarily silent. Alastor's eyes met Simon's, and in them, an indomitable resolve shone.

"It can't be..."

"That old man defeated Simon..."

It was then that Alastor spat blood, his expression turning pale, and he said, "Do not be overwhelmed by this small defeat. If we had real swords, I would have lost. But today, I couldn't afford to give up this victory; my grandson is watching me."

"His grandson?" Simon asked, confused, not understanding what Alastor meant.

Gilgamesh, on the side, then understood. What moved elderly Alastor was not his own will, but the will of someone younger, like the loss of a loved one.

The old Alastor's talent was unmatched, but judging by the condition of his body, it was easy to identify that he began training at an advanced age, as if something pushed him toward sword mastery.

So, Gilgamesh knew that Alastor's will was not his own but that of a loved one who was no longer in this world.

Elderly Alastor had not been defeated. He had found an inner strength, an impenetrable focus that had led him to overcome the disadvantage. Those present in the room watched in astonishment as the battle tilted in favor of Alastor.

"For whom do you fight?" Gilgamesh asked as he looked directly at Alastor.

"I fight for my grandson..." Alastor said as he knelt on the ground.

"If I give you the key to the power you seek, you will live at most fifteen more years... Are you willing to fight for me during those years?" Gilgamesh's question was special, as it was directed toward a purpose that was nothing more than killing and fighting in his name.

Understanding this, Alastor smiled and said, "You are an old fool, but since your spirit and will are so peculiar, I, Alastor, am willing to become your silent sword and do nothing else."

"You are a foolish old man, but since your spirit and will are so peculiar, drink this magical potion. It will enhance your abilities, adjust your lifespan, and rejuvenate your talent, but you will still die. Your body won't rejuvenate, nor will your muscles; only your talent will be amplified, and it will enhance all your power."

Gilgamesh's words were clear to everyone. Considering Alastor's age, he would live at most another forty years. But with that potion, he would live no more than fifteen years. Anyone who heard this would refuse to live so briefly just to regain the talent of their youth, gain a bit more strength, and die only knowing the sword.

No one understood this sentiment better than Gilgamesh himself, as he was willing to do anything to obtain immortality, searching the world for that power that only the gods could possess.

Alastor was no different; his desire to become stronger was something he wanted to achieve for a loved one lost to death. In that respect, he and Alastor were not so different.

"Drink the potion and take this sword, remember that if you betray me, you will die by the very sword you hold in your hands." Gilgamesh watched as Alastor drank the potion, clutched his chest, and fell unconscious to the ground.

"Take him to an unoccupied bedroom; he will awaken when the effects of the potion integrate with his body."

"Yes, sir." Several guards stepped forward and lifted Alastor from the ground.

"Is it a good idea to give him that power?" Simon asked with a calmer expression.

"It doesn't matter; he will be a good guardian in my ranks as long as he fulfills his desire." Gilgamesh shook his head and said, "Now it's time to give you a sword, Simon; do not disappoint me."

Simon's expression turned serious, and he said, "Even if I die, I will not disappoint you, my lord."