The Blood on His Sword: What It Means to Raise Modern-Day Knights

There’s a story Austin Leupp tells. One you won’t hear in your local public school or read in the back of a homeschool co-op workbook. It's the story of a knight—his name long forgotten—who returned from battle, blood on his blade, dust in his beard, and fire in his eyes. But before he put his sword to rest, before he stabled his warhorse or unclasped his mail, he fell to his knees. He wouldn’t sheath his blade until it was cleaned.

Because every knight knew—you never return a bloody sword to the scabbard.

If you do, it rusts. If it rusts, it weakens. And if it weakens, men die.

That knight, whoever he was, understood something your average “nice guy” today never will: strength without discipline is dangerous, and discipline without reverence is useless.

Your Sons Are Watching

The modern father, wrapped in convenience and comfort, has traded armor for apathy. His sons are soft, his home is silent, and his soul is asleep. But the knight knew his life wasn’t his own. He trained not for pleasure but for protection. He didn’t raise sons to be liked. He raised sons to stand when every other man ran.

We’re not talking cosplay. This isn’t about chainmail at the Ren Fest. This is about training your boys to war against the flesh, the world, and the devil.

And that war starts at home.

Chivalry Ain’t Dead—It’s Just Been Neutered

The world tells you chivalry is holding doors and wearing a tie. But that’s Victorian fluff. Real chivalry was about honor, courage, loyalty to your King, and sacrifice for the weak.

And yes—Christianity shaped it. The old knights were sinful men, but many feared God more than death. They knelt to Christ before they rode into battle. And they knew their sins needed blood—not just on the battlefield, but on a cross.

“Knighthood without chivalry is dead.”

Today, that’s like saying: Fatherhood without godliness is failure.

The Battlefield Is Your Living Room

Raising a modern knight doesn’t start with jousting lessons. It starts with cleaning up after dinner. It starts with a boy learning to master himself—his anger, his laziness, his mouth.

You think that sounds too small? Then you’ve never trained a soldier.

Teach your sons there’s a knight and a dragon inside them. The knight fights for truth. The dragon is sin. Every day, one of them wins.

You’re either teaching your boy to slay dragons—or you’re letting him become one.

Ceremonies Matter—Because Milestones Matter

The old world understood something we’ve lost: boys need rites of passage. Moments that mark the transition from child to man. Call it a page. An esquire. A knight. Call it what you want—but mark it.

If your son doesn’t get a ceremony of honor from you, the world will give him one soaked in shame.

And don’t think you’re off the hook because your kids are young. You’re in the forge right now.

Teach him to bake bread? Yes. But not to become effeminate. Teach him so he knows what his future wife’s work is worth. So he’s not tricked by a pretty face with no backbone. So he understands provision and patience.

Let your son learn to sweat, to kneel, to pray, and to bleed.

Conclusion: Clean the Sword

You never return a bloody sword to the scabbard.

So don’t let your sons live with sin unchecked. Don’t let them sit in weakness. Don’t let them grow without a vision.

The point isn’t that they become medieval reenactors. The point is that they become men.

Train their hands to work. Train their mouths to speak truth. Train their hearts to kneel before Christ the King.

Raise knights, or raise cowards. But don’t pretend there’s a middle.

This is the work of men. This is the call of Christ.

Build. Fight. Protect. Lead.