Return of Runaway Groom

"You're getting married."

He had heard these words when he was only fourteen years old.

It was clearly an arranged marriage.

In Elric's memory, his father, Hoven Portman, had said those words with an emotionless expression.

"Your wife will be Lord Wyvern's daughter. She is 18 years old and exceptionally beautiful. Moreover, she is a well-behaved girl who enjoys gardening as a hobby; she would make a good match with you."

Elric didn't understand his father's words at the time.

Not only was the sudden order to get married surprising, but, most of all, he didn't understand why a noblewoman would marry a Portman, a person from a common merchant family.

He had asked about it, but his father never gave him any answers.

Intrigued, he had asked some other adults, but they were equally unresponsive.

Eventually, the boy, who didn't even know what a woman was, was swept away by a current he couldn't control and married her.

In the end, the day of the wedding ceremony arrived, during the season of autumn, the most abundant time of the year for the land.

The events of that day were so fresh in Elric's mind that he could still recall them clearly, even now, more than a decade later. It really was a strange world to him back then, almost alien to his young mind, to say the least.

"Tyria Wyvern."

First was her soft blond hair that resembled the wheat fields of the Wyvern estate, followed by soft eyes that resembled sprouts and had a tender greenish color, exuding softness. Her pure white skin was the color of milk, and her lips were a vivid red, like cherries pitted and glued together.

Her voice was raspy, but her pronunciation was clear and, with a strong emphasis at the end of each word, her speech easy to understand.

Her upright posture and slightly clenched hands, which looked fragile enough to break if held too tightly, were yet stubborn in some way and exuded elegance.

In one phrase, she was mysterious and elegant.

She was a girl who reminded one of a fairy taking a nap among flower buds.

Well, there was probably a better way to express his first impression of her.

As for his own feelings, for the first time, young Elric had started regretting his past, when he had shunned books and had fought around instead.

"Elric, say hello."

"Hello…."

His voice had cracked.

He felt a surge of embarrassment at how different she was from him, even though they were only four years apart.

He felt as if someone had stuck a fireball inside his body, and had grabbed him by his hair and had shaken him from the threads.

Everything was so confusing, and amidst all of that, he had one thought that kept coming to mind.

He realized that he was now married, and was stuck with this person for the rest of his life.

At that time, he didn't have the words to define that strange and ticklish feeling in my chest, but looking back now, it was his feelings of first love.

The wedding was a small affair that was attended only by the families of the bride and groom without any special guests.

The 18-year-old girl that walked down the aisle in a white wedding dress that day had introduced him to the concept of the opposite sex.

Elric kept the corners of his mouth down in embarrassment at the thought of wanting to laugh for a reason he couldn't understand.

As they exchanged rings, he couldn't help but smile and had to quickly suppress this feeling, making him frown.

After that moment had passed and he was alone, overcome with curiosity, he had asked his butler,

"Why is she marrying me?"

Anxiety.

That was probably it.

What if she didn't like him and broke off the marriage?

What if he never saw that girl ever again?

With those thoughts, Elric gripped his butler's collar and shook it, demanding to hear the truth, and so the butler reluctantly spoke.

"This is a strategic marriage."

The truth was shocking.

At least it was for 14-year-old Elric Portman.

"Viscount Wyvern is poor. He doesn't even have the funds to support himself as a nobleman, and he's drowning in debt. So, he asked us to marry you to his daughter in exchange for a loan to pay off his debts. In return, this would allow us to join the ranks of the nobility."

How could a young boy possibly understand the complex deal that was made through various relationships?

Elric, who had the talent to grasp the context and essence from words spoken to him, had realized only one fact.

"Then, was she sold to me?"

The butler didn't answer.

He probably did so to avoid saying anything that would offend his young master, but to young Elric, his action seemed like an affirmation to his previous question.

Elric felt like he had become the villain at the center of a bad deal to sell the girl.

It was the greatest feeling of despair and guilt he had ever felt in his fourteen years of living.

For a boy who dreamed of being a knight, the act of buying a girl's life seemed extremely disgusting.

Elric wanted to explain the whole situation to his now wife, to clear up any misunderstandings.

Even though no one had asked him to do such a thing, he hurried as if he were being chased, heading towards where his bride was supposed to be.

But then, he heard something.

"Sniffle…"

A small sob escaped from beyond the closed door.

There was no mistaking whose it was.

The voice of the girl who had greeted him still lingered in Elric's ears, gnawing at his heart.

Even her sobbing was raspy and clear.

Now it was her sobbing, not her greeting, that was burned into Elric's mind like an inscription.

Feeling his heart pounding in his chest, Elric fled the room.

He tried to think about why she was crying.

Maybe she was sad about being sold away. Maybe it was the pain of leaving her family.

There were many possible reasons, but at the time, Elric was tormented by assumptions that made him feel even worse.

'She doesn't like me!'

She was probably crying because she was not happy with the person she was marrying.

She would suffer a lifetime of looking at his face.

He couldn't be the villain who tormented her.

The fear that he might be hated by the girl if he went on like this consumed Elric.

In hindsight, it was an absurd idea, but for young Elrick at the time, it was a significant event that could be considered his only goal.

So Elric decided to have the marriage annulled.

He went straight to see his father, who, unsurprisingly, refused.

"Don't act like a child."

With those cold words, his father turned and walked away.

Elric grabbed on to him and hung on, but it was of no use.

It was the behavior of a man who had never in his life showed Elric a smile.

After all, Elric was a child born by devouring his own mother.

Elric knew very well that he was such a being to his father.

He'd heard all his life about how much his father had cried at his mother's funeral.

To this day, it was still a source of gossip for their servants.

When Elric refused to give up, his father said:

"You are a noble now. Act like one."

"But…."

"Be cold-blooded. Put reason above emotion. Don't be swayed by anything."

His father spoke at length that day, an unusual occurrence.

And every word was infused with an icy coldness.

"Do what you were raised to do."

Elric couldn't grab his father as he turned away.

He should have vented his anger at his father, but he held it in.

It seemed pointless to try to salvage a relationship that he had already given up on.

Instead of wallowing in his resentment, Elric focused on saving the girl.

Without his father's help, the next place he turned to were the servants of the house.

But, unsurprisingly, none of them would help him.

Who would listen to the words of a 14-year-old boy asking to annul marriage?

He felt as if he was all alone in this world, but he couldn't give up.

Eventually, Elric took to extreme measures.

He ran away from home.

'If I disappear, the marriage will be annulled. You don't have to be sad because of me anymore. You can go back to your family's embrace, and father will be in great trouble.'

It was a childish heroism, and a step taken by a fragile heart that feared being hated.

It was also a form of revenge against his father, who had spoken words so sharp that they had cut deep scars in his heart.

'Go fuck yourself.'

With about three gold coins in his pocket and a newly acquired steel sword that he had received as a gift on his 13th birthday strapped to his waist, Elric celebrated his elopement with a bottle of wine on the night of the wedding.

Trembling with soul shaking fear and guilt, he earnestly hoped that she would not hate him.

He fled the estate and the country, intent on avoiding his father's eyes.

It was at this moment that his innate ability to act came in handy.

He didn't hesitate about what he would do as his next step in life.

Fortunately, Elric had learned swordsmanship and mana manipulation from a knight.

He decided that he just had to live by the sword.

"Hmm? You want to become a mercenary?"

Just like that, he became a mercenary

And,

"My name is Kasha."

He abandoned his name, Elrick Portman.

And he lived like that for ten years.

It wasn't because he still fostered that heroic spirit in him that wanted to save the girl.

Such thoughts had long since faded away.

What kept him from leaving the battlefield was his resentment of his father, who hadn't sought him out since his escape.

Although he had been disgraceful and had been the one to leave, wasn't it human nature to love one's offspring?

He couldn't contain the anger that grew in him like a wildfire, so he used it as fuel, and so, instead of wielding the sword to live, he wielded it to relieve the frustration inside his soul.

At some point, he started wielding the sword to die.

Elric went to war without caring for his wellbeing at all, and yet, he survived and became the terror of his enemies.

A mercenary, wielding an unguarded sword, his body undefended, looking for his next kill.

This was the story of the birth of one of the Seven Great Masters of the Continent, the Sword Demon Kasha.

This was a story that only Elric knew.