Last Words

At that point, his father realized why he was so confused about Erlen and why he felt bad when he thought about him. The child just wanted to learn swordsmanship and enjoy his hobby, yet his parents objectified his talent and tried to use it for their own benefit. They never asked Erlen what does he want to do.

As the head of the Ravensword dukedom, Vincente faced constant pressure from the other nobles. The glorious title of a duke turned into a burden as the years passed, but Vincente himself did not notice this simple fact. He wished for a talented heir, but only to keep his fame and maintain the noble Ravensword name.

When Erlen turned 12 and received the news about his broken magic core, Vincent threw him away and labeled him as useless unconsciously. He did not think much of it in the past, but now, the thought of labeling his own children like that terrified him.

'What's the point of being a duke if I'm not happy? If my child is not happy? Having a name, fame, money, perhaps a piece of land? That is but an empty glory! How pitiful. I concentrated on the wrong things all this time, and my own child had to help me.'

Vincente looked at the sword fight with a look of understanding and realization. Erlen gently smiled as he exchanged moves with his brother. For Vincente, this genuine smile told more than a thousand words. Swinging his sword not as a duty but as a hobby. A long time ago, Vincente was the same, but this blazing passion slowly disappeared as he took over the duty of a duke.

Seeing his own child pursuing the art of swordsmanship like that made Vincente happy. The passion he once abandoned was present in Erlen. The chaotic troublemaker took the right path all along.

The training fight continued while Vincente fell into a state of concentrated thinking. A wide variety of moves were exchanged. Some of them from unlikely angles. Ryle was able to keep up thanks to his magic power. This training duel tremendously helped him improve. Erlen continuously gave him pointers while at the same time showed how to do specific sword techniques. He glanced at his father and looked back after that.

Ryle listened to Erlen and followed his every instruction. Step by step, his voice turned into a leading light. Ryle shut himself away from the outside world and only listened to the gentle voice that seemed to give him benefits with every word.

"Technique and precision. I explained it to you then showed it as seeing it is believing. Always remember the reason you became a blade mage. Ryle, you will become a fine blade mage, I can see it.

Now that I helped you as much as I can. It's time to end this. There is one move that no one in the world can block. Do you know that move, Ryle? It's a simple full-force swing. When the power difference between two blade mages are too vast, technique, talent, soul sword. Everything becomes irrelevant. That is why no one compares an elephant to an ant."

Ryle listened to his brother in a state of full focus and repeated the information he received with his sword. A full-force swing of a blade mage against a normal swordsman without magic power. The difference was obvious, but Ryle didn't think about the consequences, just repeated what he was told as if he was brainwashed.

Erlen dropped his sword and waited for the incoming attack with a smirk. His clothes meant no defense to the magic imbued wooden sword. The wooden sword successfully made contact with his left shoulder and deeply slashed across his upper body from the left side of his chest to the right corner of his waist.

A deep wound formed across Erlen's upper body, and blood started squirting out at an alarming speed. A few silent seconds passed slowly as the spectators and his brother processed the sudden turn of events. Ryle dropped his wooden sword with a glassy look on his face as Erlen dropped to his knees.

"Why now? Why did you help me if you planned to do this?" The one who asked this was not Ryle, but Vincente, his father. It's only been a few minutes ever since he realized his mistakes. He was ready to make this duel his turning point for him and his family, yet this happy vision slipped away as if it never existed in the first place.

"Why, you ask? Would you have reacted in the same way if this event happened 5 years ago? You had 17 years, and you ask me why now? It's because I always wanted to have a family. So at least in my last moments, I wanted to see your face, not the face of his highness and not the face of the duke. I wanted to see the face of my father."

Vincente broke down in tears as he listened to the last words of his child, who committed suicide in front of his father. A drop of blood trickled down on Erlen's lips, leaving a trail on its path, and his vision started fading.