Not a Knight-Errant. Not Even a Knight (7)

You've seen animals do tricks before.

A lion leaping in and out of a ring of fire. A bear or an elephant going through its paces. A dolphin cutting bright shapes through the water in a glittering show.

…And yet.

Kaaaaa!!!

No one alive would ever have imagined a monster putting on an act. Why? Because it was that far past impossible.

A goblin—a monster crazed for leaping on people and gorging itself on human flesh—was diving through rings of fire.

Krrr!

A pack of gnolls ran on all fours like actual dogs, tumbling through an acrobatic routine. Creatures intelligent enough to be called man-hounds, and arrogant past all reason, were down there doing that.

And then the main event.

Kreeee!

A wyvern. So foul-tempered and savage that it had even earned the nickname of a flying zebra. Once, a handful of knights had bled themselves dry trying to tame one, dreaming of becoming wyvern knights, and not a single one of them had succeeded. There was even a story of a wyvern that let a knight believe he had broken it, then dropped him out of the sky and killed him on impact. Cunning, and wicked on top of it. That was a wyvern.

Whoosh!

"Wooooah!"

"This is insane!"

"Give me a ride too!"

…And yet here was that same wyvern, carrying people on its back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as it flew, showing off tricks. Loops, and a whole catalog of stunts besides. A sight you couldn't believe even while you were looking at it—one built to hit a crowd straight in the dopamine.

Clap, clap, clap, clap!!

Every time the monsters ran another act, thunderous applause refused to die.

And before long—

"So monsters can be tamed!"

"Right?"

"Think we could get along with them?"

People were showing the creatures affection. They were still afraid, yes, but a hopeful little circuit had started up in their heads: maybe the two sides could become something that understood each other.

……Enough to drag a sigh out of a man all on its own.

"Haa…."

"M-my lord?"

"…Worst show of my life."

"……."

Weariness sat plain on Lee Han's face. The longer the monsters' performance went on, the harder that face set, until he was pressing at the space between his brows like a man who had just seen something obscene.

Then—

"…Hey. You."

"D-did you call me?"

Corin, tense without quite knowing why, answered on instinct, and Lee Han gave a short nod as he asked.

"That master of yours. He ever see this show?"

"…He has. Only once."

"And after?"

"……About the same as you."

Corin's pupils widened for an instant, as if he had just remembered something he had forgotten.

And then—

"That would've been about a year ago. After he saw the performance, Master started leaving town all the time. He was looking into something, but he never once told me why he was so busy."

"That so."

"…I wanted to help. All he'd ever say was, 'I don't need help from a half-baked fool like you yet.' Whether that meant he didn't want my help at all, or…"

"It didn't."

"…Sorry?"

"He was worried about you, so he couldn't say a word. Instinct. He knew what he was doing was dangerous."

"What do you…?"

Lee Han didn't answer. He stood up all at once, that cold, set expression still fixed in place, and decided he was done with this nauseating circus.

"Don't follow me. Get tangled up in this and you'll be in danger."

"…What have you been talking about since a minute ago? What did you see, sir?"

Giovanni had been standing in the same space, looking at the same thing, and the conversation refused to mesh. He was dumbfounded, as if the two of them had been watching scenes a full hundred and eighty degrees apart.

The only answer Lee Han could give him was this.

"…You know monsters can never be tamed."

"What?"

"If you've ever been threatened by one, you know what I mean. Monsters and humankind can't coexist. We're nothing but rivals in a fight to survive."

"……."

"Unless it's something sitting on the line between spirit-beast and monster, like Orthrus or a griffin, a monster is just a monster. An unchanging truth, the kind that doesn't bend. …Which means—"

"…gulp."

Listening, they swallowed dry without meaning to. It felt like hearing a secret the world had kept buried, and now a small thread of it was coming loose: what had he seen, and what had he realized?

"A monster that lets itself be tamed isn't a monster. That thing is probably—"

Flutter—!

"Surround the priests!"

"Out of the way! The criminals are over there…!"

The lord's soldiers came pouring in, sword and spear leveled at Lee Han and his companions, their killing intent thick enough to taste.

"……."

Even in the middle of it, Lee Han calmly raised both hands, as if surrendering.

And so—

"I'll give you the rest of that answer later. There's something I still need to confirm."

"……I don't think I'll be able to sleep, not knowing."

"Don't worry. You'll find out soon enough."

Lee Han ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shrugged, and let the soldiers lock the shackles on him.

Clack—.

The soldiers took Lee Han, Corin, and Giovanni along with them. Something about having been in their company.

"Hey! What did we even do!"

"Quiet, Briton!"

Thud!

Corin showed his temper and demanded to know why they were being dragged off, and got racism and a kick to the shin for his trouble. Tears stood in his eyes—he was in agony—but the soldiers only laughed at him.

"A Briton, of all people, running his mouth…!"

Contempt for Britons lay thick and ordinary in the voice, and underneath it the assumption that even violence without a reason was allowed.

"You rotten bastards…!"

Corin bit down and let the venom show, and the soldiers raised their clubs to beat him quiet.

Then—

"—Stop."

"……What?"

"I said stop."

"……."

It was Lee Han, who until then had been letting himself be led along without a fight. The soldiers blinked, then snorted, as if these men didn't understand their own situation.

"Ha. Criminal scum, talking to a soldier like—"

Crrrack!

"………."

Their mouths shut on their own. The shackles were tearing like paper. Whether tearing was even the right word for iron cuffs was debatable, but there was no better one for what they were seeing. The scene was that unreal, and something in their blood went cold.

And then—

"We go quietly. Quietly."

Smack. Smack.

He tapped the soldier's cheek twice, precise. It was humiliating, and it hurt a little, and the man did not dare resist. Lee Han drew a fresh pair of shackles from the soldier's belt, tossed the broken ones aside, and put the new ones on himself.

"Let's go."

"……."

…In that moment the soldiers understood. They had not captured this man. He had allowed himself to be captured.

And even knowing that—

"…W-we'll go."

…they did not dare resist.

They arrived at the dungeon beneath the lord's castle. Mold to start ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with, and then the stink of sewer filth, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thick enough to turn the stomach—a place so foul that a single day in it felt like it might shave two off a man's life.

"Uegh…."

"Urk!"

Sure enough, Corin and Giovanni were both gagging, only the pitch of it different, and Lee Han clicked his tongue.

"I told you to run. Why'd you just stand there."

"I-I may be a merchant, but I've got loyalty. I couldn't send you in alone, sir."

"What good would running do me, khek—! I-I'm a priest too. They'd have grabbed me anyway."

One of them claimed loyalty. The other claimed reason. Lee Han shook his head at men who couldn't be honest.

"Caravan master's sniffing around for a way to profit off this mess. And you came along quiet because you thought your master might be in here."

"……."

"……."

"Acting the opposite of how you look."

"…Ahem."

"Look who's worrying about whom…."

He scoffed at the two of them—shame written all over faces that didn't quite deny it—and Giovanni slipped in a question.

"Um…. Sir, did you know the soldiers were coming for us?"

"Not before the circus. After I saw it, I knew. Telling the lord there was a demon was a mistake from the start."

"……Wait. You mean—!"

To Giovanni, the words landed like this.

"Count Deniro already knew something?"

Otherwise he would never have had them seized. That was how Giovanni heard it, and Lee Han agreed.

"He'd know. Maybe he already knew about the demon and was the one hiding it. Or maybe he's been working with that circus troupe—the Black Moon—from the beginning."

"Th-that can't…"

"I'm not certain. It's my guess. But the moment we brought him the news, he sent soldiers to grab us. I'd put my suspicion at about eighty percent."

"…To me it looks like a hundred."

The timing was too perfect. There was no talking their way out of this now.

"God. Why would Count Deniro…?"

"No idea. Don't care about a noble's reasons. I just need to find that man's master."

"…Why do you want my master?"

"Because I think he's got the answer to what I want to know."

"B-but how are you going to find him in a place like—"

Scrape.

The cell holding Lee Han and the others looked, at a glance, impossible to escape. Walls a good thirteen feet thick, and a heavy iron door that had not been built to let anyone out. Searching for anything in a place like this was—

"Move."

"?"

"The iron door would be easier. But a place like this might have something hidden. We'll start by breaking the wall."

"…What?"

Hoo.

Before they could ask again, Lee Han closed his fist.

Crrrrack!

…For an instant, a sound like thunder rang in their ears. It was coming from his fist.

Thoom—.

"…Hoo."

You gather your strength, and then you strike. Everyone knows that. What Lee Han meant by gathering strength was not what anyone else meant.

Thoom!

A vibration rising from inside the body. The low hum in his fist swelled into a vast resonance, and the two men watching felt the hair stand up along their spines. In that moment, the dreadful compression of force in the man's fist was sharp enough to see with the naked eye.

Thud! Thoom!

That no longer applied to Lee Han. Diamond Indestructible Body. For a man who had completed that realm, Stacked Energy was no longer a technique he had to spend while worrying over his own frame. He could have fired it in a chain if he wanted….

Three stacks ought to be enough.

KRA-CRACK!

The day before, the stacks that had blown away a demon and an entire building had been five. What he used now was a very modest three. Modest or not, the power—

Whoosh!

—was more than enough to punch through the barrier holding him. It was excessive.

KRRRRRUMBLE……!

…That day, an earthquake of unknown origin struck the lord's castle. A small one. The kind that still turned the guts to ice.