What you saw at the castle on that windy night.
How I smiled.
Never utter a word to anyone.
If you do, I'll find you and kill you.
No matter where you are.
I will kill you.
I'll rip you apart, smash your bones.
Eat your flesh and drink your blood.
I will devour you.
Yesterday, the village sage told us...
that a long, long time ago, when books symbolized culture and authority...
there was a bizarre period in which laughing out loud was a heinous vice.
Books instigating such were burnt away all together.
Thought it was a pretty stupid story.
But when I saw flowers blossoming amongst the snow this morning,
it suddenly made sense.
Finally found the answer I was seeking for 15 years.
Of course, I thought.
He was born during such a time.
I was only five when this all happened.
Four days away from our village on horseback, lies the Black Forest.
Another day on foot takes you to an ancient ruin,
known to us as the Devil's Castle.
For some time, the villagers had been speaking of
a young swordsman who had settled there.
One said he had exotic features with black hair and pale skin.
That he handled his sword like a feather in the wind.
Another said he could see at night as if in daylight.
Among them was a rather peculiar rumor,
that the swordsman would only accept old books for his service.
Rare books of a specific genre.
So I came up with an idea.
It was the day of the Harvest Festival.
Before the English attacked,
I grabbed a book and ran out of my house.
When I saw the Black Forest...
reflected on the surface of the lake,
I suddenly fell asleep.
Or rather, fainted.
I don't remember how long I slept.
And then I met him.
The Black Swordsman.
In a chamber filled with old books and swords.
That's where we exchanged words for the first time.
I asked him to help me. To save the village and my family.
And to kill every one of the English soldiers.
Pleaded desperately.
And when I finished, I handed him the book I had brought.
I don't know why, but I was confident.
I somehow knew that he had been looking for this one book.
Why? How should I know?
He didn't utter a word for a long time.
But his eyes were glued to the book.
Finally, on the second night, it happened.
Ever so slightly, he smiled.
I win, I said to myself...
Now, it was only a matter of time.
I'll do it.
See, I thought to myself.
I'm a genius.
In the morning, there was nothing left but the red of the bloodshed,
and a pile Of steel armor void of its bearers.
"What happened to the bodies?"
Sorry. I can't tell you that.
You see, I made a promise.
Thank you...
It's been 15 years since that day.
Ireland won its independence and peace was restored.
The Swordsman who single-handedly annihilated a cavalry of 200 men,
turned into a legend only to be told on days of festivities.
When everything was over, he whispered to me,
I'll kill you if you tell anyone about this.
In that castle beyond the forest, I can still picture him reading.
Under the moonlight.
On top of that tree.