The size of the garment didn't seem to bother him, but Oksana frowned as if it were a serious matter and instructed her maids to do something about it.
"You'll have to stick your chest out."
"...”
As she directed, the maids clung to Vlad and started adjusting him. Accustomed to women's touches, the feel of the maids as they adjusted his clothing was unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
"How does this feel?"
Vlad's mind couldn't stop wandering. The fabric felt very soft. It was an almost uncomfortably luxurious sensation for Vlad, who had spent his entire life in rough clothes.
"It shouldn't be too tight, right?"
"At 17, you're still growing."
"Well, Joseph was quite big by then too."
Winter had passed, and spring was arriving. New times, new opportunities, and new clothing. And new people.
Oksana rose from her seat as if she finally liked how Vlad's clothes looked on him.
"Dress for the season," she said, "So you don't lose strength."
Vlad held his breath as she approached and touched the fabric. He feared his exhale might carry a strange odor.
"I'll buy you more clothes this summer. For now, we'll have to deal with this outfit."
"I'm sorry."
Until now, Vlad had managed with the clothes he had worn since the outpost. They didn't smell bad, though the maids had diligently washed them, but they didn't fit well, were out of season, and, above all, didn't belong to him; they belonged to the late Liman.
What the men, Joseph, and Jager hadn't attended to, Oksana was taking care of now.
"Anyone wouldn't think you grew up in an alley from the way you look now, a handsome young noble."
"..."
Oksana's words were true. Right now, Vlad was an imposing figure of nobility. Perhaps it was because he wasn't wearing something taken from others but something he had earned by proving his worth.
Apparently satisfied with her work, Oksana gave a slight pat and smiled.
"... Thank you. Lady Oksana."
Struggling to reciprocate Oksana's smile, the boy looked down in disbelief.
"You saved my son's life, but I should be thanking you," replied Oksana, stroking Vlad's blond hair.
"Such golden blonde color, a color that would be the envy of nobility, and so different from my son's."
Vlad remained silent, unable to find the words to respond.
"I apologize for interrupting your training, but now you must leave. I'll fix the rest of your clothes and send them to your room."
"Thank you very much."
Vlad took the bundle of clothes Oksana had given him and left the room.
"Take the ones I left there too."
"Those..."
said Oksana, pointing with her hand to a pile of clothes by the door as if she had just remembered.
"You're only a real man if you can be polite when others aren't looking."
"..."
Vlad looked where Oksana was pointing, and the corners of his ears turned red.
The objects Oksana had set aside were underwear. What the boy didn't know was that sometimes a mother's care went too far.
***
The hallways were tinted red in the twilight.
Vlad felt the warmth of the breeze, but a sense of unease arose deep in his chest.
"I can't get used to this."
Since entering the Bayezid mansion, Vlad had tried to adapt to his new surroundings, but he consistently felt like he didn't belong here.
He felt like he was fattening up.
Flesh clinging to his soul.
“.…..”
Arriving in his room, Vlad released a sigh he had been holding deep within.
"Not yet."
Looking at the narrow room, Vlad suddenly felt relieved.
This is my home.
For now.
He placed the clothes he had brought on the bed and took off the ones Oksana had given him.
Then, he put on the mercenary attire he had grown accustomed to.
Vlad smiled, feeling the rough fabric pricking the back of his neck.
I'm not ready for the fancy clothes Oksana gave me. So, this will do for tonight.
"Let's go."
When he entered the room, he was Vlad of Soara, but when he left, he was Vlad from the alley.
He needed that tonight.
Twilight descended.
Vlad walked through the increasingly dark hallway.
The boy's steps were light as he entered the familiar.
***
Night.
At the end of the day, during the personal grooming hour in their rooms, someone knocked on Portly's door.
"Who is it?"
Portly peeked out and opened the door to a room larger than Vlad's but narrow enough for plenty of sausages.
"Vlad?"
"Everything okay?"
Portly smiled at Vlad, who, for some reason, seemed to be in a good mood. He wasn't ready to call him a friend yet, but Vlad was the only one still treating him like a person.
"What's up?"
"I need something from you."
"Something?"
Vlad glanced around Portly's room, and when he found what he was looking for, he raised a finger and pointed.
"Give me that."
"That?"
Where Vlad's fingertips pointed, there was a piece of high-quality ham. It was expensive, the kind of premium meat even Portly didn't waste.
"You want that? The whole thing?"
"Yes."
Vlad's unexpected late-night arrival to ask for ham left Portly feeling bewildered and bitter.
"It's okay."
Maybe they would never be friends, but at least they could share a laugh. Yet, the street kid didn't seem to think of himself that way. He was just a piece of meat. Even for a hefty kid from an affluent family, giving away a five-year-old ham was too much.
Nonetheless, Portly kindly offered the piece of ham. He didn't want to eat alone again tomorrow. The loneliness of being alone and the alienation of not belonging anywhere were still too much for a boy his age.
"There's a guy I know... who says this."
"What?"
"I thought I had taken what I wanted and would never look back. But a knight only takes what is rightfully his."
"Huh?"
"This is my fair reward, so don't be too hard on me."
"Huh?"
Portly could only shake his head as he watched Vlad utter his unintelligible words.
"If some other bastard knocks on your door tonight, don't open it. Don't even follow him."
"What do you mean?"
"Just remember that."
Portly wanted to ask more about what Vlad had said, but the boy who wanted to be free everywhere was already walking down the dark hallway.
"Take care."
Portly called out to Vlad as he walked through the candleless, pitch-dark corridor, but all he got back was a whisper.
"Alright."
Echoing Vlad's words.
***
Today, the sky was clear. There were no clouds, and the wind was calm. Additionally, it was a full moon night, so the darkness didn't seem too intense.
In the clarity of the night, someone was groaning.
"Stop... aah."
"Lie down there. If you move an inch, I'll crack your skull open."
The squire, who had fallen to the ground upon hearing the voice from above, decided to stay still for the moment.
This guy was really going to crack his skull.
"Catorce men for one guy is too much. Not even street thugs do this."
"Shut up!"
In a small corner of the mansion, illuminated by the full moon, Sovanin growled at the blond boy who was backed against the wall.
"Let's see how far you go, damn it. Bastard."
"You're scaring me to death."
Surrounded on all sides, Vlad could only muster a bored smile.
"Come. I came alone all the way here; you should do the same."
All the squires in the vicinity swallowed hard, seeing Vlad's mocking palm.
He was surrounded, yet they felt surrounded. It was one man against over a dozen, but the momentum strangely favored Vlad, who was alone.
They all knew that if he attacked them one by one, even the strongest among them would be defenseless.
"Ughhh…"
"Sovanin..."
But the sight of the other man now lying on the ground made them hesitate. They were in bad shape, and the position they were in made it difficult to attack all at once. It looked like a wall of corpses.
"Cee-bah!"
Sovanin let out a wild scream when things didn't go as he wanted and started glowing.
"We outnumber him!"
More numbers. Better circumstances. And the vassals, who had grown up in better conditions, surrounded a dog that had come out of an alley, barking pitifully.
"Are we going to let that bastard keep causing a ruckus?"
"No!"
"Don't let him!"
As much as Sovanin looked and shouted, none of the vassals were willing to step forward.
The man in front of them was more powerful than Sovanin's fervor by his side. They didn't dare to compare.
"…"
Blue eyes burned intensely in the shadows under the moon.
"That bastard…"
Those eyes had hunted the squires when they were alone and flashed sharp teeth. Still stunned by the horror, Sovanin's group couldn't move easily.
"…"
Sovanin's wild charge and the squires stopping short created an ever-growing gap between them.
"… Yes."
It was like someone who had already lost the will to fight out of boredom.
The gap between Sovanin charging forward and the squires stopping was widening.
"Only once more!"
Sovanin's lack of understanding of the situation only fueled his anger at Vlad's mockery.
A wooden sword charged with power. One hit with it, and even he would be dead...
But Sovanin's eyes widened as he rushed towards Vlad. Vlad had only needed one movement, and now his body was leaning to the left.
It was like a rippling wave.
"I got him!"
The wooden sword that had missed its target struck the ground with fury. The kicked-up earth covered their view.
"Have you ever killed someone and dare to say that?"
A chilling voice whispered into Sovanin's ear. The voice, whispering in the darkness, mocked.
"That bastard..."
Bam!
"Kuck!"
A flash of light.
Sovanin recoiled sharply, unable to make any sound as a rough sensation pierced through his lungs. Followed by a strong blow to the jaw.
"Hold on!"
The blow was barely blocked, but Vlad seemed to have anticipated it and kept attacking.
A continuous flow of blows. But there was a sharpness to it that Vlad was born with. It was the kind of energy that could spread poison through a person's body with a single cut.
"Crazy!"
Sovanin felt caught in a great stream that he couldn't control.
"He hasn't even wielded a sword for long!"
Sovanin was deeply perplexed as he watched Vlad, who was not the same man he had dueled.
[That's right, you catch your opponent within the gap you create.]
"…"
In the slaughterhouse, Vlad had done little more than deliver a series of concentrated blows. But with Jager's training and the Voice, Vlad had matured and now knew how to create his own flow in battle. It might not seem like much, but if you were aware, you'd know that Vlad had leveled up.
"Kaboom!"
A level that the boy swinging the wooden sword hadn't reached yet.
"That's not how you do it!"
Sovanin shouted as the attacks came from all sides.
The tables need to turn.
With that thought, he was about to plunge his wooden sword into Vlad.
"Huh? I thought I saw a flash of light from Vlad's wooden sword."
With that thought, the world tilted.
It was as if the ground was rushing toward him while he remained still.
"Why?"
Sovanin's sword was already beyond the squire's comprehension.
The beauty of a fatal blow comes from the unexpected. And by unexpected, I mean something beyond unpredictability. Like now.
Thump-.
With a loud hit, Sovanin's body fell like a kite from its string.
"Ugh!"
Sovanin struggled to recover from the fall. In the reflection of his eyes, all he saw was the moon floating in the night sky.
"Get ready."
And out of the corner of his eye, covering the moon, was the face of someone.
"…"
Sovanin thought Vlad was smiling, though it was hard to tell in the moonlit background.
Winners are above, losers below. The winner has it all.
The winners take everything!
With each flash of the wooden sword, someone's blood splattered. Along with a grotesque scream that couldn't withstand.
The squires around Vlad staggered backward from the maddening slashes.
"Aaaaaaaargh!"
"… I'll tell you this once, don't make eye contact with me in the future."
Vlad spat at Sovanin, writhing on the ground, whether from pain or fear.
The dripping saliva coldly clung to Sovanin's cheeks.
"Don't even think about touching Portly."
"Ugh…"
It was humiliating, but Sovanin instinctively tried to avoid Vlad's gaze.
"Understood!"
Helpless, Sovanin could only nod as he faced an unknown fear for the first time in his life. It was the kind of fear that only someone who had truly killed a man could exude.
"That's it…"
Vlad raised his head and stretched his stiff neck.
His revenge against Sovanin had just ended. And the price for the ham collected.
They were small things, but they had to be done, and he wanted to do them.
"Who's next?"
Now that I've done what I had to do, I can run freely. Vlad lifted his head, his sweaty blond hair gleaming in the light of the full moon.
"Who are you?"
"…"
Vlad's eyes glowed fiercely as he raised his blood-stained wooden sword.
But there wasn't a single person who dared to answer his question.
"If you're not coming, I'll go."
Vlad disappeared into the shadows in the moonlight.
Life is a struggle. A child born in a place where you can only eat by taking from others knows this well. That's why today he stumbles in the darkness, fighting a battle he'll never tire of.
To survive. And for the other revenges he must take.
"That's great."
Someone nodded, listening to the cries of the squires echoing in the night sky. Their gaze remained fixed on Vlad, a satisfied smile on their face as they surveyed the battlefield splattered with blood.
Like the stars in the night sky, the boy's wooden sword still glowed in the moonlight.
The size of the garment didn't seem to bother him, but Oksana frowned as if it were a serious matter and instructed her maids to do something about it.
"You'll have to stick your chest out."
"...”
As she directed, the maids clung to Vlad and started adjusting him. Accustomed to women's touches, the feel of the maids as they adjusted his clothing was unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
"How does this feel?"
Vlad's mind couldn't stop wandering. The fabric felt very soft. It was an almost uncomfortably luxurious sensation for Vlad, who had spent his entire life in rough clothes.
"It shouldn't be too tight, right?"
"At 17, you're still growing."
"Well, Joseph was quite big by then too."
Winter had passed, and spring was arriving. New times, new opportunities, and new clothing. And new people.
Oksana rose from her seat as if she finally liked how Vlad's clothes looked on him.
"Dress for the season," she said, "So you don't lose strength."
Vlad held his breath as she approached and touched the fabric. He feared his exhale might carry a strange odor.
"I'll buy you more clothes this summer. For now, we'll have to deal with this outfit."
"I'm sorry."
Until now, Vlad had managed with the clothes he had worn since the outpost. They didn't smell bad, though the maids had diligently washed them, but they didn't fit well, were out of season, and, above all, didn't belong to him; they belonged to the late Liman.
What the men, Joseph, and Jager hadn't attended to, Oksana was taking care of now.
"Anyone wouldn't think you grew up in an alley from the way you look now, a handsome young noble."
"..."
Oksana's words were true. Right now, Vlad was an imposing figure of nobility. Perhaps it was because he wasn't wearing something taken from others but something he had earned by proving his worth.
Apparently satisfied with her work, Oksana gave a slight pat and smiled.
"... Thank you. Lady Oksana."
Struggling to reciprocate Oksana's smile, the boy looked down in disbelief.
"You saved my son's life, but I should be thanking you," replied Oksana, stroking Vlad's blond hair.
"Such golden blonde color, a color that would be the envy of nobility, and so different from my son's."
Vlad remained silent, unable to find the words to respond.
"I apologize for interrupting your training, but now you must leave. I'll fix the rest of your clothes and send them to your room."
"Thank you very much."
Vlad took the bundle of clothes Oksana had given him and left the room.
"Take the ones I left there too."
"Those..."
said Oksana, pointing with her hand to a pile of clothes by the door as if she had just remembered.
"You're only a real man if you can be polite when others aren't looking."
"..."
Vlad looked where Oksana was pointing, and the corners of his ears turned red.
The objects Oksana had set aside were underwear. What the boy didn't know was that sometimes a mother's care went too far.
***
The hallways were tinted red in the twilight.
Vlad felt the warmth of the breeze, but a sense of unease arose deep in his chest.
"I can't get used to this."
Since entering the Bayezid mansion, Vlad had tried to adapt to his new surroundings, but he consistently felt like he didn't belong here.
He felt like he was fattening up.
Flesh clinging to his soul.
“.…..”
Arriving in his room, Vlad released a sigh he had been holding deep within.
"Not yet."
Looking at the narrow room, Vlad suddenly felt relieved.
This is my home.
For now.
He placed the clothes he had brought on the bed and took off the ones Oksana had given him.
Then, he put on the mercenary attire he had grown accustomed to.
Vlad smiled, feeling the rough fabric pricking the back of his neck.
I'm not ready for the fancy clothes Oksana gave me. So, this will do for tonight.
"Let's go."
When he entered the room, he was Vlad of Soara, but when he left, he was Vlad from the alley.
He needed that tonight.
Twilight descended.
Vlad walked through the increasingly dark hallway.
The boy's steps were light as he entered the familiar.
***
Night.
At the end of the day, during the personal grooming hour in their rooms, someone knocked on Portly's door.
"Who is it?"
Portly peeked out and opened the door to a room larger than Vlad's but narrow enough for plenty of sausages.
"Vlad?"
"Everything okay?"
Portly smiled at Vlad, who, for some reason, seemed to be in a good mood. He wasn't ready to call him a friend yet, but Vlad was the only one still treating him like a person.
"What's up?"
"I need something from you."
"Something?"
Vlad glanced around Portly's room, and when he found what he was looking for, he raised a finger and pointed.
"Give me that."
"That?"
Where Vlad's fingertips pointed, there was a piece of high-quality ham. It was expensive, the kind of premium meat even Portly didn't waste.
"You want that? The whole thing?"
"Yes."
Vlad's unexpected late-night arrival to ask for ham left Portly feeling bewildered and bitter.
"It's okay."
Maybe they would never be friends, but at least they could share a laugh. Yet, the street kid didn't seem to think of himself that way. He was just a piece of meat. Even for a hefty kid from an affluent family, giving away a five-year-old ham was too much.
Nonetheless, Portly kindly offered the piece of ham. He didn't want to eat alone again tomorrow. The loneliness of being alone and the alienation of not belonging anywhere were still too much for a boy his age.
"There's a guy I know... who says this."
"What?"
"I thought I had taken what I wanted and would never look back. But a knight only takes what is rightfully his."
"Huh?"
"This is my fair reward, so don't be too hard on me."
"Huh?"
Portly could only shake his head as he watched Vlad utter his unintelligible words.
"If some other bastard knocks on your door tonight, don't open it. Don't even follow him."
"What do you mean?"
"Just remember that."
Portly wanted to ask more about what Vlad had said, but the boy who wanted to be free everywhere was already walking down the dark hallway.
"Take care."
Portly called out to Vlad as he walked through the candleless, pitch-dark corridor, but all he got back was a whisper.
"Alright."
Echoing Vlad's words.
***
Today, the sky was clear. There were no clouds, and the wind was calm. Additionally, it was a full moon night, so the darkness didn't seem too intense.
In the clarity of the night, someone was groaning.
"Stop... aah."
"Lie down there. If you move an inch, I'll crack your skull open."
The squire, who had fallen to the ground upon hearing the voice from above, decided to stay still for the moment.
This guy was really going to crack his skull.
"Catorce men for one guy is too much. Not even street thugs do this."
"Shut up!"
In a small corner of the mansion, illuminated by the full moon, Sovanin growled at the blond boy who was backed against the wall.
"Let's see how far you go, damn it. Bastard."
"You're scaring me to death."
Surrounded on all sides, Vlad could only muster a bored smile.
"Come. I came alone all the way here; you should do the same."
All the squires in the vicinity swallowed hard, seeing Vlad's mocking palm.
He was surrounded, yet they felt surrounded. It was one man against over a dozen, but the momentum strangely favored Vlad, who was alone.
They all knew that if he attacked them one by one, even the strongest among them would be defenseless.
"Ughhh…"
"Sovanin..."
But the sight of the other man now lying on the ground made them hesitate. They were in bad shape, and the position they were in made it difficult to attack all at once. It looked like a wall of corpses.
"Cee-bah!"
Sovanin let out a wild scream when things didn't go as he wanted and started glowing.
"We outnumber him!"
More numbers. Better circumstances. And the vassals, who had grown up in better conditions, surrounded a dog that had come out of an alley, barking pitifully.
"Are we going to let that bastard keep causing a ruckus?"
"No!"
"Don't let him!"
As much as Sovanin looked and shouted, none of the vassals were willing to step forward.
The man in front of them was more powerful than Sovanin's fervor by his side. They didn't dare to compare.
"…"
Blue eyes burned intensely in the shadows under the moon.
"That bastard…"
Those eyes had hunted the squires when they were alone and flashed sharp teeth. Still stunned by the horror, Sovanin's group couldn't move easily.
"…"
Sovanin's wild charge and the squires stopping short created an ever-growing gap between them.
"… Yes."
It was like someone who had already lost the will to fight out of boredom.
The gap between Sovanin charging forward and the squires stopping was widening.
"Only once more!"
Sovanin's lack of understanding of the situation only fueled his anger at Vlad's mockery.
A wooden sword charged with power. One hit with it, and even he would be dead...
But Sovanin's eyes widened as he rushed towards Vlad. Vlad had only needed one movement, and now his body was leaning to the left.
It was like a rippling wave.
"I got him!"
The wooden sword that had missed its target struck the ground with fury. The kicked-up earth covered their view.
"Have you ever killed someone and dare to say that?"
A chilling voice whispered into Sovanin's ear. The voice, whispering in the darkness, mocked.
"That bastard..."
Bam!
"Kuck!"
A flash of light.
Sovanin recoiled sharply, unable to make any sound as a rough sensation pierced through his lungs. Followed by a strong blow to the jaw.
"Hold on!"
The blow was barely blocked, but Vlad seemed to have anticipated it and kept attacking.
A continuous flow of blows. But there was a sharpness to it that Vlad was born with. It was the kind of energy that could spread poison through a person's body with a single cut.
"Crazy!"
Sovanin felt caught in a great stream that he couldn't control.
"He hasn't even wielded a sword for long!"
Sovanin was deeply perplexed as he watched Vlad, who was not the same man he had dueled.
[That's right, you catch your opponent within the gap you create.]
"…"
In the slaughterhouse, Vlad had done little more than deliver a series of concentrated blows. But with Jager's training and the Voice, Vlad had matured and now knew how to create his own flow in battle. It might not seem like much, but if you were aware, you'd know that Vlad had leveled up.
"Kaboom!"
A level that the boy swinging the wooden sword hadn't reached yet.
"That's not how you do it!"
Sovanin shouted as the attacks came from all sides.
The tables need to turn.
With that thought, he was about to plunge his wooden sword into Vlad.
"Huh? I thought I saw a flash of light from Vlad's wooden sword."
With that thought, the world tilted.
It was as if the ground was rushing toward him while he remained still.
"Why?"
Sovanin's sword was already beyond the squire's comprehension.
The beauty of a fatal blow comes from the unexpected. And by unexpected, I mean something beyond unpredictability. Like now.
Thump-.
With a loud hit, Sovanin's body fell like a kite from its string.
"Ugh!"
Sovanin struggled to recover from the fall. In the reflection of his eyes, all he saw was the moon floating in the night sky.
"Get ready."
And out of the corner of his eye, covering the moon, was the face of someone.
"…"
Sovanin thought Vlad was smiling, though it was hard to tell in the moonlit background.
Winners are above, losers below. The winner has it all.
The winners take everything!
With each flash of the wooden sword, someone's blood splattered. Along with a grotesque scream that couldn't withstand.
The squires around Vlad staggered backward from the maddening slashes.
"Aaaaaaaargh!"
"… I'll tell you this once, don't make eye contact with me in the future."
Vlad spat at Sovanin, writhing on the ground, whether from pain or fear.
The dripping saliva coldly clung to Sovanin's cheeks.
"Don't even think about touching Portly."
"Ugh…"
It was humiliating, but Sovanin instinctively tried to avoid Vlad's gaze.
"Understood!"
Helpless, Sovanin could only nod as he faced an unknown fear for the first time in his life. It was the kind of fear that only someone who had truly killed a man could exude.
"That's it…"
Vlad raised his head and stretched his stiff neck.
His revenge against Sovanin had just ended. And the price for the ham collected.
They were small things, but they had to be done, and he wanted to do them.
"Who's next?"
Now that I've done what I had to do, I can run freely. Vlad lifted his head, his sweaty blond hair gleaming in the light of the full moon.
"Who are you?"
"…"
Vlad's eyes glowed fiercely as he raised his blood-stained wooden sword.
But there wasn't a single person who dared to answer his question.
"If you're not coming, I'll go."
Vlad disappeared into the shadows in the moonlight.
Life is a struggle. A child born in a place where you can only eat by taking from others knows this well. That's why today he stumbles in the darkness, fighting a battle he'll never tire of.
To survive. And for the other revenges he must take.
"That's great."
Someone nodded, listening to the cries of the squires echoing in the night sky. Their gaze remained fixed on Vlad, a satisfied smile on their face as they surveyed the battlefield splattered with blood.
Like the stars in the night sky, the boy's wooden sword still glowed in the moonlight.
