Aslin speaks up.

“Did you know? The moment I heard the outrageous words your father spoke, I split the desk in front of me in two, right on the spot.”

Though she laughed as if it was all in the past, Aslin’s raised right hand, presumably the one that shattered the desk, made it clear just how furious she must have been at that time.

I nodded silently, showing that I understood the anger she felt back then.

“I once promised, right in front of my father, that if I ever met the ‘Sword Duke’ on the battlefield or ran into any of his kin, I’d leave them in the same state as that broken desk.”

“A fitting promise, indeed.”

I weighed the intent behind Aslin’s words, revealing the calm rage she harbored from that time.

“Do you know what else? The first time I set foot in the southern parts of the Zakharat Mountains, which were in complete chaos, I found out that the one responsible for holding back our forces was, of all people, your kin—the descendant of the Sword Duke. Do you want to know what I said at that moment?”

Aslin was about to share something only she knew, a truth even I hadn’t heard before.

“I’m a bit curious, I’ll admit.”

I urged her to tell me what she had said.

“Hah! Like father, like son, right? Fine! Then I’ll start with him and make him pay for the insult to me and the Sword Spirit!”

Gone was her calm tone, replaced by a booming, rugged voice—a voice that didn’t quite suit her, yet one that echoed across the battlefield.

Despite her serene and mysterious appearance, Aslin’s words held a roughness on the battlefield, matching those of hardened war veterans, known for their foul language.

Even I, who was well acquainted with the harsh language of back alleys, was stunned when I first met her on the battlefield. Her fierce voice and brash words caught me off guard.

But there was something different about Aslin now, something I hadn’t seen before.

“…That’s what I said.”

No sooner had she finished her words than her face flushed red, a hint of embarrassment showing.

Was she embarrassed because she’d shown such an unusual side of herself?

Or maybe it was the setting—a quiet, peaceful room rather than a chaotic battlefield—that made her feel shy.

‘Cute…’

I barely managed to swallow the thought, an unconscious sigh escaping as I admired how unexpectedly adorable she looked.

Would she ever know that the man she’d taken as a hostage, who should’ve been bending to her whims, was secretly finding her adorable during this serious conversation?

If she caught on… well, I’d probably end up on the wrong side of her blade that very day.

Well, as long as I’m careful, I should be fine.

‘If she doesn’t find out, I’m safe. If she doesn’t find out, I’m safe.’

Resolving to keep my thoughts hidden, I listened to Aslin continue her story with a calmness, as if it were all in the past.

“It wasn’t an empty vow. I can only wonder what twist of fate allowed me to survive until now.”

Cautiously, I asked why her vow had never come to pass.

“Haha…”

Aslin chuckled lightly at my question, a soft smile on her lips.

“After watching you and the ones you led on the battlefield, I came to a certain realization.”

“What realization saved my life?”

“To be honest, I used to think the saying ‘If the top is rotten, so is the bottom’ wasn’t far from the truth.”

“…I can agree with that.”

Though her words were wrapped in indirect language, I understood the meaning behind them and nodded in quiet agreement.

“But then, seeing you on the battlefield, I realized that sometimes, such truths don’t always apply.”

Aslin smiled at me as she started to recount the story, letting the suspense build before diving into the main point.

She spoke as though it were no big deal, yet the way she recalled it, one could see her remarkable composure and how she treated what others would consider a significant event as a mere memory.

Back then, at the southern front of the Zakharat Mountains, not far from the Sword Duke’s territory, she had charged forward, fully prepared to crush her enemies.

Opposing her were the Sword Duke’s elite forces, the Blackwing Knights, who had rallied most of their strength to hold back Aslin’s Radiantwing Knights.

Commanding them was my elder brother, Endymion, and I, wearing an iron mask befitting my role as his shadow, stood by his side, supporting him.

Despite rallying all available forces, the Blackwing Knights were still vastly outnumbered by the Radiantwing Knights on the offensive.

“I was convinced back then that I’d crush that pitiful force in an instant,” Aslin told me, with unwavering confidence in her victory.

The moment I heard her say that, I couldn’t help but think back to my brother’s almost insane tactical genius that barely held off her massive forces during the initial clash.

It wasn’t a distant memory, and it resurfaced clearly in my mind.

It had been a tremendous battle—there was no other way to describe it.

Despite leading knights clad in armor much larger than herself, Aslin pressed fiercely, trying to break through the Blackwing Knights’ defensive line.

My elder brother, who had been mocked as a frail successor, showed not a hint of fear during that first encounter; he remained calm as he led his forces to repel Aslin’s relentless assault.

The Radiantwing Knights had to force their way through a narrow, winding path to break the Blackwing Knights’ defensive camp.

“When I finally pushed through that narrow path and reached your position, I thought you were mocking me,” she said with a soft laugh.

Haha—

She chuckled lightly, but it was clear that remembering this wasn’t really a lighthearted matter.

After all, Aslin, who had been toyed with by my brother’s tactics, would have had every reason to be furious.

How could she not?

The narrow, twisting path alone would have been challenging enough to pass through, even without any ambushes.

And when she finally reached the end of that path…

“Knights nowhere to be seen, only conscripts. Even now, when I think back on it, I should have either stopped or reorganized and retreated. But my blood boiled over, and I acted rashly.”

Sigh—

A soft, regretful sigh escaped Aslin’s lips as she finished speaking.

“It wasn’t anything extraordinary.”

I responded calmly, observing her.

“It was merely the result of gathering as much information as possible before facing you.”

As someone who had lived through that moment, I could understand why Aslin would have such lingering regrets.

After all, my brother had meticulously crafted that trap to ensnare her.

With a relaxed expression, Aslin looked at me and recounted the story, savoring each detail.

She had set up a line of ragtag conscripts, barely organized, visible at the encampment, while behind them, she taunted me with a cocky wave of her index finger, exploiting my personality with cheap provocations.

Ordinarily, soldiers and knights would need at least a short break after such a forced march.

Yet, convinced that victory was within arm’s reach, Aslin disregarded the Empire’s basic combat doctrines and charged alone toward my brother’s encampment, certain she would reach him if she only extended her hand.

“Honestly, it’s not that I didn’t think it could be a trap…”

“So you were confident?”

“…Haha, yes, I was. Even if my retreat was cut off or the front of the camp was filled with traps, I was sure I could handle it all.”

“That’s exactly where I caught you off guard.”

“Right, in my eagerness to capture you, I charged past every trap you’d set. I almost made it to your shocked face—if not for that mysterious knight, wearing an iron mask, who suddenly pointed his sword at me without a word. If it weren’t for him, I might’ve gotten my hands on you even sooner.”

Aslin’s mouth curved slightly into a discontented line.

‘Hmm…’

Seeing her expression, I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

Of course, it would dry up. After all, in a certain sense, the one who had troubled her the most during the civil war was me—that silent knight in the iron mask, self-appointed as my brother’s shadow.

If I said the wrong thing here and she suspected that not only was I an imposter standing in for my brother, but also that I was the very knight who’d hounded her throughout the war… well, I’d be lucky to live to see another day. I had to keep my words carefully guarded.

If she found out, I’d be in serious trouble. So, I kept reminding myself to tread carefully and kept an eye on what she might say next.

“You were strong… but honestly, that knight would be just as tough to face even now,” Aslin admitted with a begrudging look before nodding in acknowledgment.

Though her memories of that clash were bitter, she showed enough grace to respect the skills of her opponent who had cornered her so fiercely.

It was admirable to see such composure in Aslin, who, despite the frustration, acknowledged the prowess of the one who’d given her such a hard time.

It felt gratifying to be complimented—both as “my brother” and as myself—having mastered our family’s swordsmanship through pure talent alone and using a style personally developed by the previous head of the house.

But then…

Aslin’s expression shifted, suddenly filled with curiosity.

“That knight… with skills like that, he should’ve survived until the end of the war. What was his name, and where is he now?”

The question hit precisely on the topic I most needed to avoid since arriving here.

She wore an expression of strange anticipation, something I couldn’t quite decipher.

‘It’s here…’

This was the moment I couldn’t evade or gloss over. I had to be very careful with my response.

Fortunately, I’d prepared for this question since the moment I anticipated it, rehearsing the answer multiple times until I had it down perfectly.

“His name… I don’t know. Father—, the previous head of our house—brought him in around the start of the civil war as a sort of hunting dog.”

“A hunting dog… He was more like a wolf, even at his worst.”

Oddly, every time Aslin mentioned “the other me,” she seemed pleased.

Though she hadn’t looked too happy when recalling her defeat, her mood brightened each time she brought up “the other me.”

…Could it be that now she’s learned a bit more, she’s hoping to have the “real me,” her prized trophy, by her side, just to wring every drop of usefulness out of me?

Shiver—

“…What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I just felt a sudden chill.”

“…? The window’s closed.”

“That’s why I said it’s just my imagination.”

“…All right, then. Anyway, even if you don’t know his name, he’s bound to still be in your family with skills like that. Is he doing well?”

Aslin’s eyes held a strange intensity, an emotion so profound that my limited understanding couldn’t begin to fathom it.

This gaze contained a torrent of feelings, deeper than any I could decipher with my scant knowledge—a mix of anger toward the rival who had nearly taken her life and fierce competitive spirit toward a worthy adversary.

But there was something more, something I couldn’t interpret in the look she cast when asking about “the other me.”

What could it be? It puzzled me that she harbored these unusual feelings toward “another version of me.” But it was clear that asking her to explain would only pique her curiosity more—a curiosity best left unkindled.

“He perished. Not long after you and he formed a temporary alliance to defeat the monsters,” I answered, reciting the rehearsed response I’d prepared, watching her reaction closely.

Her expression crumbled.

Her gaze reflected an emotion akin to the despair a child might feel watching a meticulously built sandcastle topple with a single kick. It was something I didn’t understand and probably shouldn’t try to understand.

“…I see.”

She accepted my words, and in an instant, the previous emotion vanished from her eyes, making me wonder if I’d merely imagined it.

“It’s a shame to lose such an exceptional knight.”

Aslin’s respectful acknowledgment saved me from delving further into her reaction.

“It feels like losing an arm,” I replied.

“I understand. If I’d lost Katarina in that way, I would have felt a profound sorrow too.”

I did my utmost to ensure that any mention of “the other me” wouldn’t arise again.

Though I continued the conversation, my curiosity simmered beneath the surface. Why was she so interested in “his” whereabouts?

I almost voiced the question, asking why she cared so much, but…

‘No, don’t.’

I drew a line in my mind, determined not to mention “the other me” again for the sake of maintaining this fragile peace.

To survive this hostage life, I had to let go of the nameless, unrefined alley rat I once was, scrounging for food and struggling to survive.

I needed to fully embody the identity of Endymion Messer Fayloroad—the heir to the Sword Duke’s House, one of the Empire’s esteemed swordsmen lineages, entrusted with this legacy by the man who had passed his name onto me with his dying breath.

…It’s absurd, really.

I still felt an unquenched rage toward the father who’d dragged me from the back alleys and used me like a tool, even after his death.

And yet, learning of a twin brother I’d never known didn’t upset me but brought me genuine joy. I was grateful for the bond I’d formed with my brother and the other meaningful connections, though all of this was due to that same father I resented so deeply.

And that, in a twisted way, was also what kept me here, compelling me to tread this path, even when I had the freedom to walk away.

‘No wonder I can’t leave the Sword Duke’s House.’

As I recited these thoughts inwardly, I settled my mind.

Indeed, it’s no surprise that they say blood is thicker than water.

When faced with a situation where it seemed inevitable I would die, my twin brother—sharing my blood—chose to embrace death in my place.

If someone, feeling pity for a nameless life like mine, offered me their name and asked me to live the life they couldn’t finish… Who could ignore such a request and simply walk away?

Even if time were reversed and I found myself in that moment again.

‘Rest easy. You’ve done more than enough.’

I would gently close my brother’s eyes with those words, just as I had then—without a hint of hesitation.

“A slight regret, perhaps.”

“…About what?”

“I should have brought some drinks if I’d known this conversation would go on so long… or maybe not,” I said, noticing Aslin’s eyes light up at the mere mention of alcohol and quickly tempering her enthusiasm.

And so, our conversation continued, growing deeper with each passing moment.

No sooner had we wrapped up a brief eulogy for “the other me” than—

“To continue the story, I must say, I almost admire the skill of that knight who nearly took my life and yours for the way you hid your cards and lured me into such a trap.”

Aslin offered a brief, sincere recognition for my brother and me, remembering the moment her supposedly superior position had been turned on its head, leaving her forces to retreat empty-handed.

“Knowing how bold and tenacious you were, it seemed wise to save the one who’d welcome you to our camp for last…” I replied, echoing my brother’s exact sentiments to Aslin as if they were my own.

“Hehe… hehehe…”

Aslin chuckled softly, pressing three fingers to her forehead, her laughter filling our room, unexpectedly warm and free from bitterness—a genuine acknowledgment of a worthy opponent.

Despite the late hour, we stayed up, talking as if the night would never end.

“Honestly, when you stormed into our camp with such confidence, I was thrilled at the thought of capturing you. I was certain that if you’d come that far, there was no way you’d escape.”

“…Our knights had quite a time protecting their reckless lord.”

“They did… Yet despite their efforts, they never inflicted any real damage on the Radiantwing Knights. In the end, all I could do was watch you flee from a distance, utterly helpless.”

“No. Not at all. Because of that, I abandoned my original plan to advance without pause. Instead, I resolved to make you surrender, then strike the Sword Duke’s House directly. In that sense, you effectively blocked me.”

“I may be indulging in some self-praise now that the war is over, but I take pride in the fact that we minimized the damage to our land and people.”

“You have every right to be proud. I’ll personally vouch for that.”

“It’s something, hearing such praise from Aslin Blath Caladbolg herself.”

“I gave you plenty of praise on the battlefield, yet here you are, pleased over just a few words now.”

“Praise, even in abundance, is never unwelcome. It benefits both the one who gives it and the one who receives it.”

And so, we continued to talk, reminiscing about those not-so-distant days, each of us sharing memories, piece by piece.

Slowly, I began to understand why she had saved me after the civil war, even though my life had been forfeit the moment we lost.

Aslin spoke of my brother—unlike our wretched father, he was a truly remarkable man. She recounted how, after the war, when the Emperor declared my brother’s life forfeit, she had proposed this marriage alliance to the Emperor, determined to keep my brother’s leash in her own hands.

Chirp-chirp…

“…It seems the night has deepened,” she murmured, as the chirping of grasshoppers became clearer, filling the quiet predawn air of winter with a strange, vibrant life.