The Weeping Swordsman

Tony relaxed in his manor, enjoying a cup of his morning tea—a habit of his, or rather, a routine. Well, he likes it, and that’s enough reason for him to indulge in such acts before breakfast. Today, the first step of their plan comes into play, one that may change the Kingdom of the Nine Realms for years to come: War.

The Kingdom wasn’t always called the Nine Realms. Years ago, the world fell into turmoil, including this isolated land. The current ruler then died from complications, leaving behind his wealth and land to his beloved children—five in total. Traditionally, the eldest was to attain power, but his siblings thought otherwise, each having the connection and resources they believed entitled them to the throne. The kingdom lost the battle of becoming the world’s leading nation and instead focused more on their civil war, which persisted for nearly a decade. Eventually, the siblings signed a treaty, leading to the creation of the five realms. Expected stability quickly dissipated as the fourth and third realms began to face difficulties. Their rulers were incapable of managing their kingdoms, which led to some of their nobles leaving out and conquering other lands. This sparked the creation of the sixth realm, followed by the seventh, eighth, and ninth. Each realm of the kingdom had its own key customs and cultures, all containing traces of their old world. A world Tony wished to bring back—one with just a single ruler and a single realm.

“Lord Tony, the guests have arrived,” a young maid reported. He responded with a wave of his hand. She bowed and left the room. “Ok, let’s get this over with”, he got up from his velvet couch, picked up his golden falcon-head walking stick, and went to meet his friends. They were already in deep discussion before he arrived, making him a little left out.

“Salutations, my friends”, he said, offering a bright smile showcasing his clean set of teeth.

“Oh Tony, a beautiful day, isn’t it? The world is bright. The songs of the morning critters are melodious as always,” Sparrow replied.

“Tony, we were just talking about the good old days. You really were something back then,” Hack smirked, stroking his white beard.

“Were? No, I haven’t changed in the slightest. If anything, I would say I’ve gotten stronger and also more handsome, right?”, he turned to his maid.

“Yes, you are, my lord,” said Mary.

“See?” he said, taking his seat. “Why isn’t Hudson here, Mary?” Tony asked

“Well, he’s on his way- “

Interrupted by the sudden opening of the doors, a young butler walked in, a plate holding three glasses of crimson wine in hand. He offered it to the gentlemen, giving a polite bow to each individual.

“Hey, Hudson, why are you late?” Tony questioned, his face stern. Hudson explained how he overslept, fell into a ditch in the garden, forgot to take his bath, forgot to wear clothes, and finally decided on which wine to pick. Tony stared, dumbfounded, trying to pick out the words to use in this scenario. Tsk, he turned back, enjoying his glass of wine.

“Hahaha, you have a funny one. Hey, maybe you can quit your job here and come work for me instead,” Hack offered. Tony dropped his glass, giving him an icy stare.

“Scary,” he said, winking at Hudson.

“They’re here,” Sparrow said abruptly, sipping his wine as five immense men walked in, all brandishing weapons.

“Leave us,” Tony said. Mary and Hudson absconded the room. Lester, one of the men, briefly locked eyes with Hudson as he passed.

“So, may we begin?” Dropping his glass, Tony turned to the five men. They discussed the confrontation at the seventh realm border and the lack of supplies, revealed how many people escaped and how they were able to avoid the authorities. Sparrow played with his glass, enjoying the flow of wine trapped in a prism of thoughts. No point in him hearing the same words twice.

“Yeah, yeah, you survived. We get it,” Hack faced sternly, “Now, tell us, did you find it?”

“Yes,” Lester said, signaling a worn-down Matthew to bring over a small chest. He opened it, revealing a black rock with red carvings.

“Marvelous,” Sparrow said, adjusting his monocle to have a closer look. “A beauty indeed, if I do say so myself.”

“What’s so beautiful about a stone? Just say it’s a powerful one,” Hack scoffed. Sparrow ignored him, returning the stone to its chest.

“Good work,” Tony said, eyeing Matthew. “Do you mind explaining who this guy is? I don’t recall seeing him in your squad the last time we spoke.”

“He joined just recently. He’s a good fighter and a silent one, too.”

“It’s an honor to meet you all,” Matthew said, giving a quick bow before returning to his post behind Lester. Tony smirked while he placed his glass on the table.

“I see. Are you ready? This is your most dangerous mission yet; you are aware, right?”

“I’m prepared, my lord,” Lester grinned. “By the end of the week, this town will be out of the map”

“I see you hired a crazy one, didn’t you, Tony?” Hack said, gouging down his wine, “I like him”

Lester thanked Hack for the compliment. They discussed more about their plan, making everything clear to avoid trouble in the near future. Hudson’s eyes widened, unable to calm his nerves as he unintentionally opened the doors. He stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. Tony and his men quickly spotted him, their expressions shifting to anger. Realizing his mistake, Hudson spun on his heels and sprinted down the empty hallway, panic driving his every step. The sound of heavy boots and shouts filled the air as the armed men chased after him under Tony’s command.

“Oh, Hudson,” Tony sighed.

“Shouldn’t we be more worried about this? He heard everything!” Hack yelled, rising from his seat.

“Calm yourself, Hack. He won’t last long,” Sparrow said, admiring the sun’s gaze.

“To be safe, we’ll leave the town earlier than planned. But before then, I’ll go have some breakfast.” He rose from his seat and helped himself to another glass of wine before heading off to the dining hall.

*

“Hey, Mr. Swordsman, quick question,” Pasta asked, his face buried in a bowl of scorching hot rice.

“What did I say about calling me that?” Mr. Swordsman leaned back in his chair, patiently waiting for his meal.

Pasta took another spoonful of rice, savoring its taste. “Well, you don’t have a name, right? So I’ll call you Mr. Swordsman, since you are a swordsman, after all. As for my question, when are we going to begin our quests?”

“Here you go, sir,” the server said, dropping off a small bowl of soup for the swordsman. He thanked the waiter for the meal and turned to Pasta. “Listen, boy, we are not embarking on any quests,” he said calmly, taking a few sips of his soup. Emilia remained quiet, her side of the table vacant. In her hand was a beginner’s guide to adventuring, one given to all E ranks, the same for Mr. Swordsman and Pasta, but theirs were long gone.

“How can we call ourselves adventurers if we’re not out there taking on quests,” he said, turning to Emilia. “I’m itching to go fight some dragons, right Emilia?”

Emilia remained engrossed in her book.

“My mission is to guide you to the fourth realm, not to make you renowned adventurers.” He took another sip, his nose wrinkled, and his upper lip curled in revulsion as he pulled his head back slightly. He plucked a strand of hair from his mouth and went for another sip.

“He’s right, Pasta. We need to hurry to the fourth capital as soon as possible.” Emilia said, “But first, we need to have a quest done for us before we can leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Mr. Swordsman asked, his bowl now sparkling clean.

“Look here.” She showed him the fifth page of the adventurer guild book. “It says all newcomers must partake in at least a single quest before leaving the town they registered in .”

“Yes!” Pasta screamed, enjoying the stoic look on Mr. Swordsman’s face. “This is what I’m talking about. Bring it on, baby!” his loud voice drawing in unnecessary attention.

“Considering how Bloodborne can be, this is legit. I wouldn’t mind breaking a law or two, but this is the old man’s town.” He looked at his bowl and sighed. They were still in the seventh realm and it would take a week or more traveling to the fourth. He is new to adventuring and is curious about what their quests are like. Mr. Swordman smiled, thinking that it wouldn’t hurt to get some hands-on experience before heading out.

Emilia, on the other hand, hid her excitement behind the adventuring guidebook, pretending to still be engaged in it. She knew Mr. Swordsman wouldn’t allow them to take quests, so she’d be searching all day, hoping to find something. Grabbing her bag of resources, she joined Mr. Swordsman and Pasta as they made their way out of the restaurant. A seventeen-year-old girl going out on her first adventure, she was so excited she could scream. Maybe, just maybe, she could even find a handsome prince or a cute elf, even though they were so rare. She continued daydreaming of the possibilities and looking forward to their first quest.

*

“Sun blossom picking?” Emilia asked, her brow furrowing as she blinked rapidly. The taskmaster confirmed with a nod.

Pasta dropped his sword in disbelief. “Hunting dragons, chasing criminals... why?”

“So technically we are going sunflower picking,” Mr. Swordsman said, wiping his sword with a small cloth. Emilia hurriedly opened her guidebook.

“It says here they differ from sunflowers. They possess the ability to harness a bit of the sun’s radiance and produce a golden drop, which is used in the production of local medicine.”

“So, sunflowers,” Mr. Swordsman said, his face stoic. “if it looks like a sunflower and smells like one, then it’s a sunflower”

“But it’s not”

“I beg to differ,” he said, returning to cleaning his sword, hiding his disappointment. Today hasn’t been going well for him ever since he was given the E rank because he is new to being an adventurer. It irritated him knowing he shared a similar rank with the kids, and now he’s going to pick sunflowers.

Emilia remained positive, hoping they’d get a better quest soon. As for Pasta, well...

“Give us a better quest, I command you!!” he dashed toward the terrified taskmaster. Emilia quickly thwacked him with the back of her sword, knocking him unconscious. She grabbed the map of the sun blossom location from the taskmaster before heading out with Mr. Swordsman, pulling unconscious Pasta behind.

*

The crew made their way out of town; the map pinpointing the location of the sun blossoms near the outskirts of Pyrovile. “It will take a day or two to arrive,” Emilia pointed out. “There’s also a volcano nearby. Maybe we can go take a look.” she looked forward and noticed they weren’t even listening. Pasta was behind talking to himself, and Mr Swordsman was ahead, clearing the path with his bare hands, given that using his sword will humiliate him as a swordsman. She continued reading the guild book, which had become her new best friend.

Mr Swordsman made a stop, clenching his fist to signal the others to stop, then pointed towards a small open field in the forest where four giant mushrooms dwelled. Mushrooms with little eyes and no mouths and their cheeks bright red, so adorable you just want to dive in and gobble them up. Emilia quickly flipped through her guidebook.

“Those are Mushkins. They are cold-resistant, love eating, and umm … Yeah, they are also feeble and they only attack on sight. That’s great! We’ll avoid them to prevent any—”

“That won’t do,” Mr. Swordsman said. His muscles relaxed, and a sigh escaped his lips. He was to travel with these kids for several days. They will undoubtedly encounter monsters and other troubles on the way. They both wielded swords, meaning they had some experience in battle. His curiosity got the better of him. He smiled softly and turned to Pasta, who was still lagging behind, using his sword as a walking stick.

“What do you mean, it won’t do?” Emilia asked, puzzled, closing her guidebook and returning it to her bag.

“Bloodborne informed me you both have impressive swordplay. If we plan to travel together, we should know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, don’t you agree?”

Emilia remained puzzled, not due to his reply, but because she couldn’t comprehend how Pasta could hear from so far away.

“Let’s go!” He launched himself toward one of the Mushkins, who quickly dodged his slash. A grin appeared on his lips as he twisted his body midair, going for another strike to its cap, but the other mushroom quickly pushed its comrade out of danger. “Being cooperative, are we? Hey, sis! Want in or not? If you keep standing there, I’ll have to get rid of them myself.”

“No need.” She unsheathed her sword. In a flash, she pushed herself towards the third Mushkin. “Crescent row!” she yelled, giving a curved slash across the Mushkin’s torso, cutting it in half, “Now I just feel bad”.

“Nice, Sis, it’s my turn,” he chuckled. Both Mushkins jumped, spewing orange goo that screamed, “Do not touch!”

Pasta dodged the goo and appeared beside the Mushkins.

“You call that poison? Let me give you a taste of mine.” He quickly cut both Mushkins, leaving only scratches. Their eyes bulged as their bodies turned grey and they fell to their demise.

“Weren’t there four?” Emilia wondered.

“Watch out, Emilia!” Mr. Swordsman unsheathed his sword as a Mushkin in the air was about to stomp on Emilia. “Damn! I let my guard down again. I’ll quickly get rid of it.”

Emilia glared at it. As it spat out its poisonous goo, she went right through it and decapitated the head of the Mushkin in a clean sweep.

“You kids are something; you know that? I’m impressed,” Mr. Swordsman said as he sheathed his sword.

“Oh, thanks, Pasta, are you alright?” she said, her body dripping with orange goo.

“I’m more than alright, sis.” He said, walking towards the dead Mushkin. “Yeah! Tremble in fear under the presence of the almighty Pasta, hahaha,” Pasta screamed while continuously stabbing the Mushkin’s corpse.

“Hey, Emilia, are you alright? Isn’t the goo poisonous?” Mr. Swordsman asked, feeling concerned for her health.

“It’s a weak poison, even so. My brother and I are both immune to this sort of thing.”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be realistic for a poison swordsman not to be immune to poison,” Pasta laughed, removing his sword from the Mushkin cap.

“So why bypass the Mushkin poisonous goo earlier?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

Pasta smirked, sheathing his sword, and moved his hands in a rainbow pattern. “For dramatic effect.”

“I see”, Mr Swordsman stared at the Pasta’s sword. The Naga Blade, is a sword that promises an agonizing death. Asking how someone like Pasta got his hands on a weapon like this was none of his concern, nor did he care much.

“Excuse me, guys, we need to hurry. The day is drawing to a close, and I really, really want to clean up,” Emilia said, just realizing she was covered in mushroom goo. Following her lead, they made haste, heading to a river. Luckily, the sun blossoms were nearby, and the day was still bright. Sun blossoms only bloom under the sunlight. Sun blossoms that are picked when they are not blooming will remain that way permanently, making the golden drop inaccessible.

“I knew it! They are sunflowers,” Mr Swordsman said.

“Yeah, Emilia sometimes can be too specific?” Pasta sighed, picking more flowers and tossing them into a small basket Emilia had brought.

“A quest is still a quest no matter how ordinary they are”

“We did get to fight those Mushkins.” Pasta smiled, “Now that isn’t ordinary now, isn’t it”

“I suppose that’s true”

“Arrgh!” A loud shriek was heard at the river. It was Emilia.

They rushed to the spot where her voice was heard, only to encounter a massive piece of wood hitting them in the face. Well, to Pasta’s face, since Mr. Swordsman dodged it.

“What are you doing here, you pervert!” she yelled out. Pasta, unable to answer her question, lay unconscious on the floor, stars and swords circling his head.

“We heard you scream, so we came to help.”

“Can’t you see I’m naked?” she clenched her fists, her blood boiling with rage.

“Seriously?” Mr. Swordsman sighed. “The only things you weren’t previously wearing are your stockings and boots.”

“So?”

“Why did you scream out, girl?” he said, trying to calm his nerves.

“Well—”

Pasta woke up, springing to his feet, and deftly bandaging his head wound, a routine he was well familiar with.

“Come see for yourself.” They went across the river, near a small bush. There, they saw a compact figure covered in blood. His bones clearly fractured, and his breathing was uneven. It was a boy about the same age as Pasta. He wore a tattered suit covered in his blood.