How to Live as a Swordmaster of the Enemy Nation

Band of Bandits

As the bandit swung his sword down from above, Gregory was already wearing a fishy smile.

Unable to move without a wagon, and feeling bored, he decided to enjoy the moment.

Gregory dodged the descending sword in an instant, then struck the bandit hard with the flat of his blade, rendering him unconscious. There had been fourteen bandits; now, with one down, thirteen remained. Although they weren't skilled enough to truly satisfy his thirst for entertainment, at least it was a chance to warm up.

'This is actually better.'

Thud—

Though they sensed danger at the sight of their comrade collapsing limply, they exchanged wary glances and instantly switched up their tactics. A coordinated attack—they had judged this was the only way to stand a chance.

But that too failed. Their mistake was believing that just because they launched a group attack, their crude moves wouldn't be seen through by Gregory. On the contrary, if Gregory changed his movements, it was obvious they would only trip over each other as they all rushed in at once.

Tick—tick—

Swords jabbed at him from every direction, but Gregory deflected them all. As he expected, the band of bandits ended up in a jumbled mess. The hoods they wore to cover their faces also blocked their vision, contributing to the chaos.

Even when one of them fell, they were not flustered, but as every attack failed, overwhelming terror finally consumed them.

In a word, he was a monster.

Frightened, some bandits tried to run to their leader. The chief himself looked rather flustered, but Gregory simply used the flat of his blade to strike down the necks of those fleeing one by one, and soon they all collapsed.

One bandit remained: the chief.

The chief fell to his knees without even offering resistance. He had planned to use his strength only after everyone else fell, but confronted with the scene before him, he realized he was no match for Gregory. Bowing his head low, he recited his plight.

"F-forgive me! Please, just spare my life! I only did this to survive..."

Gregory cut the chief off.

"That's enough. Where's the loot?"

The bandit chief feigned ignorance.

"What do you mean by loot...?"

"You must have stashed away what you've collected. This isn't your first time doing this, is it?"

Even if they were novice bandits, there was bound to be loot accumulated. Gregory planned to take what he needed from their stash.

This was the last mercy he would show. He already understood, thanks to his memories from his past life, just how impoverished the lower classes of the Blandi Kingdom had become.

These were citizens from the Blandi Kingdom, a place suffering inevitable financial collapse and food shortages. While theft could never be justified, seeing the half-starved bandits forced him to realize the reality.

When Gregory, clearly implying he knew something, asked about their loot, the chief hesitated for about three seconds, then led the way.

Gregory found their stash piled beneath a small cave. Perhaps because they were novice bandits, there wasn't much. Still, it was enough to buy food to feed all of them handsomely for a day.

As Gregory was about to just take one item, the shape of a familiar sword caught his eye. He hurriedly approached and carefully examined the weapon.

The inlaid patterns and repeated designs. Gregory seemed to recognize the sword.

"Is this really...?"

It was. The sword was Durandal—the very weapon Gregory had used in his past life. Even then, Durandal had a notorious reputation. It was such a sinister-looking sword that even merchants shunned it, wrapping and trading it in bandages like these in various exchanges.

It was rumored that whomever took up this sword would be cursed, and those under the curse would ultimately die.

However, Gregory had overcome Verk's curse twice: once in his past life, and once after awakening in this body.

Anyone who had overcome Verk's curse could wield this sword with no ill effects.

Conversely, anyone who had not, yet tried to wield it, would have the sword bound to them, draining their mana bit by bit, and no one else could wield it until the wielder either overcame the curse or died.

"Please have mercy... I know I have no right to ask, but I have a family to feed..."

Gregory shook his head from side to side.

"You said you were a citizen of Blandi. Carry a white flag and go to the Arme Kingdom. The Arme Kingdom will accept you."

"To the Arme Kingdom...?"

"Compared to Blandi, Arme at least won't run out of food for several years."

Looking at his fallen comrades, thoughts flitted through the bandit chief's mind. But he soon made up his mind, his gaze blazing with new resolve. He had already lost faith in the marauding life. At least in Arme, he resolved to live upright as a proper person.

Additionally, Gregory told the chief to use his own name—'Gregory.' Even though he was only a knight, any increase in population was good news for Arme, and especially so if those people had received Gregory's help.

"Thank you... I'll make something of myself."

"Alright. I'll be taking this sword."

"Why take such an ill-boding sword from among the loot...?"

"It just suits me."

The bandit chief didn't argue further. He thought there was no way to change Gregory's mind.

Thanks to that, Gregory was able to reclaim his sword from his previous life and safely take it with him. Confident he could now use it efficiently, he attached the scabbard at his belt and carried it as he walked.

With a simple farewell, Gregory departed. The bandit chief woke his fallen comrades one by one, gathered their belongings, and then he and Gregory headed off in different directions.

***

Several more days passed without incident. Slowly, the Blandi Kingdom came into view in the distance.

It looked just as it had in the past, and the colorful structures brought vivid memories of his previous life.

Blandi, too, seemed to be focusing on reinforcing its fortress walls, presumably in preparation for war.

Once more, facing the tightly-packed fortifications, Gregory realized—though he hadn't known in his past life—it was a display of the authority Blandi prized so much.

All the soldiers wore iron armor, and the renowned cavalry—considered the very symbol of Blandi—patrolled in groups, guarding the palace.

"It's been a while."

No sooner had Gregory spoken than the soldiers drew their swords and began their drills. Their synchronized, precise maneuvers, and their resounding shouts that echoed through the kingdom...

To him, the soldiers and knights of Blandi had once embodied his dreams and ambitions. But now, things had changed.

They might now be enemies whom he would have to defeat one day. All the more reason not to let his guard down.

According to history, at the outset, Arme and Blandi fought on equal footing. If Blandi's well-trained soldiers could contest with Arme, Arme's true strength must be considerable.

The deeper into the town he went, the quieter the streets grew, and the shadowed alleys between buildings were packed with hungry citizens seeking shelter from the sun.

"Mom, look at that carriage! It's so cool."

"That mark on the wagon... It must've come from the Arme Kingdom."

"Wow..."

The people murmured, watching Gregory stride confidently down the street.

The great famine of Blandi Kingdom described in the books from his past life—now he saw the reality with his own eyes. With crop failure this year and next, it was no wonder things had become like this. In the end, this gave Blandi enough justification to start a war.

As a child in his previous life, he hadn't truly experienced the famine. But judging by the current scene, he could feel how severe it had been.

He thought to himself that even if he placed first in the martial arts tournament, it might not be enough to delay the war. The king himself wouldn't want his people starving to death, after all.

That would again undermine the throne's authority. Gregory decided he must devise some plan for negotiation. If the people continued to starve, manpower would dwindle, and a vicious cycle would ensue.

His arrival in Blandi was not the end. He had to reach the capital to participate in the martial arts tournament.

Oddly, though, the further in he went, the thinner the soldiers looked, and the fewer the hungry citizens. The kingdom's finances were clearly in decline.

The wealthy clustered in the capital to survive, and the toughest, best-trained soldiers had been sent to the front lines to win the war.

For a moment, seeing the soldiers' imposing presence, Gregory wondered if he had overestimated Blandi. It didn't quite match the history books. History is history, after all. It's natural to want to erase the bad past and exaggerate the good.

This was still doable. He hadn't yet experienced Arme's true military strength himself, but Blandi was falling apart.

Yet there was one more thing to investigate quietly. In his past life, Blandi Kingdom had gone to war to claim fertile lands. But that war dragged on for a long time.

If a poor harvest continued the next year, more people would die. So how had this war managed to last for over ten years?

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Gregory is such a softie...
The bandits tried to rob him but he let them live...
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】