Chapter 28
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 28. Definition of Courage
To the nobles of the Empire, a duel is a formal procedure. It is a play to protect honor, a performance to save face. Usually, it is customary for a mediator to intervene before a single drop of blood is shed, concluding it amicably by declaring that "both sides' honor has been satisfied."
But to a Northerner?
"It’s a duel! And it’s the Black Knight’s duel at that!" "The opponent is the Hero of the Holy Sword?" "I can't miss this! Bring the ale! And the meat!"
On a hill overlooking the vast snowfields outside the walls of Frostgard, Northern warriors flocked like a swarm of sharks smelling blood. To them, a clash between the strong was the ultimate form of entertainment.
It wasn't a question of who would win, but rather how long the Hero could survive.
"Stop it! Both of you, please!"
Only Lucia stood there, clutching her hands together and stamping her feet in anxiety. Freya caught her by the arm.
"Sister, it’s dangerous to intervene."
"But—!"
"If you step between them now, you’ll actually die."
Freya wasn’t exaggerating. The two beings standing on that hill had already drifted slightly beyond the realm of common humanity. Leona stared at the Black Knight, her thoughts racing. A massive frame over two meters tall, with a greatsword on his back that exceeded the height of a grown man.
'It’s as if violence was molded into a human shape.'
He was a disaster in the form of a man.
"Let us begin," the Black Knight said.
The abyssal aura rising from the black armor dyed the snowfield. Darkness gained substance, writhing like a living thing.
'The monster that torments Lucia.'
Leona gripped the Holy Sword tightly—the legendary blade said to be forged from star fragments, a divine artifact imbued with the Goddess’s blessing.
'I end it here.'
Leona took the initiative. She kicked off the ground and charged, a trajectory of light carving through the snow. She concentrated her divine power into the Holy Sword until the blade shone like a miniature sun. The Black Knight raised his greatsword without moving an inch from his spot.
KWAAAAANG!
Light and darkness collided. The resulting shockwave swept outward, blasting the surrounding snow away in a perfect circle. Leona’s wrists stung, her bones creaking under the pressure.
'He’s heavy.'
Just clashing blades made her arm go numb. It felt like trying to cut through a mountain. The Black Knight absorbed Leona’s charge without being pushed back even a single step.
'I can't win with brute force.'
Her judgment was instantaneous. Leona twisted her blade and retreated, only to charge again. She changed her strategy: curves instead of straight lines, speed instead of raw power.
SHUPAT!
She darted in and out, her strikes becoming faster and sharper. It was a barrage of consecutive attacks so rapid they left afterimages. Up, down, left, right—the light of the Holy Sword danced wildly. Ten bouts. Twenty. Thirty.
A storm of attacks that refused to let up illuminated the entire hill. However, the Black Knight parried every single one of them.
'...This bastard.'
He was still composed, almost as if he were merely playing along. A low voice vibrated from within the Black Knight's helmet.
"You’re struggling." A low chuckle escaped him. "As prey, you are acceptable."
Prey? A vein throbbed on Leona’s forehead. Had he really just called her prey? But there was no time to dwell on the insult.
WHIIING—!
For the first time, the Black Knight shifted to the offensive. His greatsword cut through the air, scattering black aura in its wake. Leona ducked, barely avoiding the strike, though a few strands of her hair were severed.
The second attack came instantly. There was no room to dodge. She raised the Holy Sword to block.
KWAANG!
"Kh...!"
Her body was lifted off the ground. She was blown back five steps, her feet carving deep furrows into the snow. Every nerve in her body was screaming.
'One clean hit and it's over.'
A graze meant injury; a direct hit meant instant death. The Black Knight followed up with a horizontal slash. Leona swung the Holy Sword to counter it. She managed to block, but the sheer aftermath of the colliding auras grazed her.
Her armor shattered. And then...
'...!'
A portion of the compression bandages wrapping her chest tore, revealing a glimpse of bare skin. Her face burned hot. The Black Knight paused. The red glint within his helmet scanned Leona’s body—slowly, from top to bottom, as if evaluating a prize.
'...What is that look?'
It was a gaze that felt like it was licking her skin, an utterly repulsive sensation.
"It will be troublesome if your scars increase. I wish to collect you without any blemishes."
What? An alarm went off in Leona’s brain. She was clearly in disguise.
And yet, why was he looking at her like that?
'Did he see through it? No, that’s impossible. Then...'
A chill ran up her spine.
'Does it mean it doesn't matter even if I'm a man to him?'
The moment that possibility crossed her mind, goosebumps broke out over her entire body. Was this bastard truly so twisted that he didn't care about gender?
The Black Knight rested his greatsword on his shoulder. "Shall we strip away a bit more? I intend to uncover every nook and cranny."
"You... you absolute pervert!!!"
Leona gripped the Holy Sword even tighter. Her face was flushed, though whether from rage or shame, she didn't know.
'I’ll kill him. I'll rip that tongue right out of his mouth.'
Below the hill, the Northerners were buzzing.
A new level of awe for the Black Knight began to take root. That conversation drifted up to Leona’s ears.
'These barbarians...!'
It was horrifying that their interpretation matched her own deduction. The Black Knight was a mad demon, and the Northerners were the barbarians who enabled him.
"Stop, Leon!" Lucia shouted from the foot of the hill. "I'm fine! Really! It's all a misunderstanding! Please... stop fighting!"
‘...She’s lying.’
Lucia was a terrible liar. Her emotions were written all over her face. That pleading look was one of genuine worry—for Leona.
'You're okay? How can you be okay, Lucia? You cried every night until you finally gave in and went to his room. You're being forced to eat strange things... your body is being ruined...'
Leona ground her teeth. She felt a crushing sense of guilt. It was because she was weak and insufficient that Lucia had to suffer and worry.
'If I back down here, I'm sacrificing Lucia. If I lose, she’ll be trapped in that monster's grasp forever.'
She couldn't retreat. To retreat wasn't just a loss; it was abandonment.
"HAAAAA!"
The battle resumed. Leona charged once more. The Holy Sword blazed.
KING! KANG! KWAANG!
Every time their blades met, she was shoved back. Her stamina was bottoming out.
WHIIING—!
The Black Knight swung his greatsword.
KWAAAAAANG!
The shockwave slammed into her. Her vision spun. Her body was tossed through the air before she crashed into the snow. She used the Holy Sword as a crutch to barely pull herself up.
Her armor was in tatters, and her skin was covered in minor lacerations. As she panted for breath, she saw the Black Knight walking toward her with leisurely steps.
'...He's too strong.'
The arm holding the Holy Sword felt like it was made of lead. Doubt began to seep in. Leona had never truly imagined defeat. She was the Hero, the chosen one. She had always triumphed over every beast and villain.
'If I lose... do I die?'
The Black Knight’s earlier words echoed in her mind: "I'll display you next to Lucia." A future she didn't want to imagine flashed before her eyes—something perhaps more terrible than death. The silhouette of the Black Knight seemed to grow larger, an abyss threatening to swallow the world.
"Disappointing."
"What?"
"To think the Hero of the Holy Sword was only this much. The Goddess has terrible taste in people."
The Black Knight rested his sword on his shoulder as if she were no longer worth the effort. "Go back. Crossing blades with the weak is a waste of time."
Something burned deep within Leona’s chest. Pride. Rage. Spite. Her blood boiled. Anyone can fight when they know they can win. Stepping forward only when the odds are in your favor is just calculation.
True courage was standing up even when you knew you would lose.
Leona straightened her knees. She raised the Holy Sword.
'But it won't end with me on my knees. Even if I fall, I will fall forward.'
The Holy Sword vibrated, responding to her will. A new light bloomed from the blade—purer, hotter, and more dazzling than before. Her wounds stopped bleeding. Her heavy arms grew light. Her blurred vision snapped into focus.
'...I see it.'
She saw the trajectory of the Black Knight's sword and the empty space within his guard.
Leona lunged. Her movements were faster and sharper than before. Weight shifted into her strike as she moved from defense to total offense.
"HAAAAAAA!"
KING!
Sparks flew. She clashed with the abyssal blade, and for the first time, the Black Knight—that immovable monster—was pushed back half a step.
"...!"
The murmuring of the Northerners stopped. Everyone watched with bated breath. The Black Knight was still overwhelming, but Leona was no longer trembling. She had swallowed her fear and stood atop her despair.
Leona’s blue eyes stared directly into the red glint of the abyss.