The Knight King's Saga and a Daughter's Fury
Runaway Leo deliberately came home a little late. Screech. The living room was empty. The person welcoming him wasn't in the living room but in her bedroom. There was no daughter waiting on the living room sofa like always. How long would this go on? It was Leo's constant worry every time he came home. But Leo wasn't just sitting idle either. Knock knock. Still holding the two theater tickets he'd bought right after being ignored by Elizabeth, he knocked on his daughter's door.
"Ellie. Sorry about earlier. Can you come out for a sec?"
"…."
"Just for a minute…."
Bang. The door flew open. Elizabeth gripped the door and looked up at him silently. Her attitude said: spit it out if you have something to say. Leo hesitantly held up the two theater tickets.
"Uh, well, it's got famous actors, y'know? Got 'em lucky. Exactly two tickets. My friends don't like this stuff… Thought our Ellie might enjoy it…."
His voice trailed off smaller and smaller. Any reaction would be nice. Her blank stare deflated him.
'Not working, huh….'
He'd tried to make some father-daughter time. No way he'd gotten the tickets "lucky." He'd scalped them at three times the price. But even this wasn't enough, apparently. He was turning away dejectedly when—
"Let's go."
"Huh?"
"To the play."
"Really? Then…!"
Screech. Click. Elizabeth said that and shut the door again. But Leo's heart soared. He left the door with a joyful step.
"….."
Elizabeth lay on her bed trying to sleep. But her heart pounded wildly, keeping sleep at bay.
*
A few days later, holiday evening. Leo was dressed to the nines. Knowing how crucial this chance was, he'd put every effort into his appearance. The reason Elizabeth had ignored him last time? His shabby look, obviously. He'd gotten a neat haircut, splashed on cologne, dressed sharply, and headed to the meeting spot.
"Over here! Elizabeth."
Elizabeth, just out of school, was in her uniform. The bright blonde hair and white uniform suited her perfectly, drawing stares from everyone. She came over, they handed in their tickets, and entered the theater. She hadn't said a word until then, but Leo took her sitting beside him as a positive sign. It'd been half a year since they'd been this close.
"Wanna drink this?"
He offered the beverage he'd bought at the theater—one sip taken. Elizabeth glanced and took it, drinking.
"Hey."
"?"
"That was just one sip."
"…."
Elizabeth eyed him uncomfortably and handed back the juice.
"Nah. I already put my mouth on it, so you drink it."
"…You're kidding?"
"Dead serious?"
"……"
A few exchanges, and the old natural vibe returned. Minutes later, the announcement played, lights dimmed, and the audience hushed, eyes on the stage. Leo whispered.
"First play, right?"
"Seen a few with friends."
"But not a big one like this."
Silent Elizabeth. That meant yes. The play began. Its name: Knight King. The founder of the Aihenvalt kingdom, a knight of the empire. His life story was brutal: demons' schemes, battles with barbarians, empire nobles' schemes more wicked than devils. All based on true events. As the nation's founding tale, the audience was hooked. Even Elizabeth focused on the stellar acting and staging.
The Knight King's journey was grueling, sometimes funny, sometimes sad. When his comrade lost one testicle to a demon mid-sleep, the whole theater roared with laughter. Leo glanced—no averting eyes—and saw Elizabeth biting her lip, stifling giggles.
When his lover was captured and killed by barbarians, everyone raged and grieved. Elizabeth's fists trembled, teary eyes glaring at the barbarian actor.
And when the final villain demon appeared in terrifying staging—
"Eek!"
She buried her face in Leo's chest with a shrill scream. Prepared, Leo patted her back. Elizabeth quietly pulled away. Head down, but flushed cheeks peeked through her fallen blonde hair.
"Th-that was just 'cause it was scary. I mean…."
Knowing it sounded like an excuse, her face burned hotter. Seeing her tomato-red, Leo chuckled.
"If you're too scared to sleep tonight, tell me. I'll sleep with you like old times."
"N-no need for that…!"
Elizabeth whipped her head away. Leo smiled and focused on the play. It built to its finale. The knight finally felled the demon, earning the emperor's acclaim to found his own nation in the empire's north.
"You are this land's sword, the world's hero. Thus speaks Kaisis Hesenia Stella of Bornat's Lenz. To you who held 30,000 against 100,000 barbarians at the Allans Mountains, who single-handedly executed the traitor Kerbius Voltinos, who slew the hellfire demon Ignis, who ended the empire's twilight—you, I grant this banner. Go north and plant it. Rule that land."
The emperor handed a massive banner to the kneeling knight. A lion roared with sword in paw. The knight went north and planted it. Seasons passed countless. Time flowed, the banner still fluttered. It faded to modern day. Curtain fell; play ended.
Clap clap clap clap clap! The audience cheered the masterpiece. Elizabeth applauded with a gasp of admiration. Leo slipped in casually.
"Fun, right?"
"W-watchable."
Elizabeth's ears flushed red.
* * *
One day in early 15-year-old Elizabeth's life. A freezing winter day with snow pouring, Leo took her to a snow-blanketed clearing—pure, untouched. Father and daughter had a snowball fight. More like snow play, childish as could be. Elizabeth chucked snow; Leo couldn't dodge, got hit, fell. "You're so good," he'd praise. Liar—he could dodge. After the romp, Leo led her down a street lined with shops: food, clothes, jewelry, toys, books. Leo valued memories and love over money or things—invisible bonds over the tangible. So without hesitation, he bought her expensive clothes, jewelry, books. Nothing for himself. That day, Elizabeth brimmed with love and affection. Leo wrapped a red muffler warmly around her neck.
"I love you, my daughter."
Me too. I love you too, Dad. Really.
"Ellie, your smile's pretty."
"Huh?"
"Just now. Smiling at the window."
The squirrel-cute girl chatted up Elizabeth—her bestie, Daisy. No noble, just a normal family girl. That's why they clicked so well.
"Ellie's pretty anyway, but smiling makes you prettier."
"What's with the sudden…."
"So smile at your dad too."
"……"
Elizabeth went silent. Daisy had been there the day Leo got ignored by his daughter.
"Such a waste to keep that smile just for us."
Daisy continued carefully. For nearly a year at school, Leo picked her up daily, without fail. Other kids got family servants; only Elizabeth's parent came personally—every day. She used to brag about it, praising Dad's intellect, kindness, coolness. It made everyone think she really loved her dad. But suddenly, that stopped. Mentions of Dad plummeted to zero. She went from cold-shouldering pickups to outright ignoring. Daisy had thought it too much for a while.
"…Whatever. I see him every day anyway."
"Why the sudden change? Puberty?"
"Not puberty."
"Then why?"
That was… She didn't know. She loved Dad. But what was love? Just wanting to be together? No. Hers was thicker, stickier. One day, she'd touched his lips while he napped—soft, moist. Pressed her thumb on his lower lip, rubbed. Pulled away, licked her saliva-wet finger. Knew it was crazy, but couldn't stop. After, Leo felt alien. Together, her heart raced uncontrollably. Used to be fine; now face heated, ears red. Do all daughters feel this for Dad? Wanted to ask, but it'd make her weird. Even hid from bestie Daisy.
"Drop it. No Dad talk."
"…Ellie. At least not in front of others. It hurts him."
"That's."
Your fault. Dad's mine. I'll keep him all to myself.
"…Daisy. I said drop it."
Elizabeth replied coldly.
"…Sorry, got it."
Daisy nodded awkwardly and backed off. Class started: piano, history, math, imperial language. Elizabeth excelled in all. Especially imperial language—Leo taught her. Conversational with native profs. Students gathered at the sword training grounds. Lenz School required swordsmanship as core curriculum. Named after Knight King Lenz, its roots were knight training. Though evolved, chivalry remained. Swordplay was natural.
Clang, scrape, clang!
"Ugh!"
"Elizabeth Valentine wins."
The boy dropped his sword, ass-planted. Elizabeth stood stone-faced before him.
"Whoa, she's seriously amazing."
"Beat a guy easy."
"What'd she train in since kid?"
Students marveled. Aihenvalt nobles trained swordplay regardless of gender. They had confidence—until her. Not just Class A; few second-years beat her at swords. The few who did were exceptions: pro knight trainees, and boys. Losing was expected, but she traded blows evenly, even nearly won. Without pro training.
"Man, jealous. If I was that good, no nagging from folks."
"You don't even try. Always chasing girls."
"Anyway… Pretty, talented, nice personality. Got it all."
"Missing one big thing. No title."
"Marriage fixes that. Lenz grad? At least baroness."
"Wanna marry Elizabeth. I can give her a title."
"Same lol."
Elizabeth was campus first crush. As boys gossiped, Beatrice approached with a sly smile.
"Fine girlfriend, not wife material."
"Beatrice?"
"What?"
Mysterious words; boys asked back.
"Literal. Ignores her own dad completely—think she'll respect a husband? Lucky if not."
Beatrice hadn't forgotten the humiliation. 'Shut up? That laborer's daughter dared insult me, marquis's second daughter?' Lenz stressed equality, but class gaps lingered. Elizabeth? No noble—commoner, laborer's kid!
'Did I curse her ancestors or what?' More infuriating: had she even deserved it? Elizabeth ignored Dad publicly first, then death-glared and cursed when called out. Scared then, no response—but Beatrice didn't let slights slide. Payback time.
"Saw her rude to her dad last time."
"Elizabeth?"
"Yeah… But kinda understandable."
Beatrice paused, gauging interest. They were hooked on her family secrets—Elizabeth kept distance. As more gathered, Beatrice feigned sorrow.
"Happened to see her dad that day… Sigh, should I say…."
"What what."
"Don't cliffhanger!"
Perfect; Beatrice sighed helplessly.
"Seems he does hard labor. Looked…."
"Stop."
Daisy cut in. Saw crowd forming—yep, Beatrice stirring trouble.
"Daisy."
Beatrice eyed the interrupter annoyed. Others glared at story-ruiner Daisy.
"What to stop?"
"You know."
"No clue? Explain?"
"Must you?"
"What? That Ellie's dad's a laborer?"
Beatrice smirked, spilling it. Words rippled out. Aihenvalt was conservative. Unlike commerce-driven empires like Britannia or Espanya where bourgeois led, here honor trumped gold—rooted in knighthood. Laborers earning little? Rock bottom, honorless.
"Laborer?"
"For real?"
"Explains the family secrecy."
Students buzzed.
"You bitch!!"
Daisy raged. Commotion drew crowds: profs, even Elizabeth pausing spar.
"What's up?"
Elizabeth asked fuming Daisy amid stares. Daisy hesitated—tell or not….
"Nothin' big~ Right, guys?"
Beatrice giggled. Kids nodded awkwardly. Seemed over. But not Elizabeth.
"What'd you say? About my dad?"
"Huh?"
Beatrice startled—straight ball?
"Guess so. Said Dad works construction?"
"S-so what'll you do?"
Vowed no fear, but those transparently chilling eyes sped her heart.
"Do? Why think I'll do anything?"
"…Last time you—"
"Just embarrassing for you."
"What…? I'm embarrassed?"
"Yeah."
Clueless, but her confidence hit home.
"I don't hate my dad. He works hard—for his and my happiness. Don't love the body-wrecking job, but respect his will and sacrifice."
"J-just manual labor."
"Yeah. Out mornings, dusty sites: digging dirt, paving roads, hauling wood, stacking bricks. Hands ruined. Saw? Fingers twisted. Palms rough, callused. But real—honest, diligent. No hypocrite slime."
"You little…."
Shut down. Elizabeth's rhetoric won. But Beatrice counterattacked—no way she'd lose pride!
"Talk big—your lowblood change? Honest diligent? Happy slaving forever? Just die miserable."
Snap. Mentioning Leo blanked Elizabeth's emotions. Oblivious, Beatrice blabbed.
"Studied poorly, so labor. Lowbloods do low work. Like your dad. Oh, but handsome—could slack on looks, women love."
Personal attack stunned friends. They checked Elizabeth: expressionless, lips tight, breath silent. But eyes blazed. Deep, cold fury like abyssal flames. Insulting Leo snapped her reason. She advanced slowly.
Smack!!
Hand sliced air, slapping Beatrice's cheek. Head snapped. Shock before sound. Friends speechless, silence fell. No words—just eyes said all. Slapped Beatrice gaped soundlessly. Those cold eyes loomed like lofty stars—overwhelming authority no criminal resists. She submitted instinctively.
'Wh-what.'
Grabbed swelling cheek. Blood trickled—inner mouth torn. Head bowed in submission. But Elizabeth's rage wasn't one slap. Grabbed ponytail, unleashed frenzy with other hand.
Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap, slap!!
Ferocious sounds filled the grounds.
"E-Elizabeth!"
"Stop!"
Overawed friends snapped to, prying girls apart. Held by limbs, Elizabeth clung to Beatrice's hair.
Rip! Strands tore viciously. Beatrice screamed.
"S-sorry! Please stop! Sorry sorry sorry! Aaaah!!"
"Stop! Let go, Elizabeth!"
"You're in deep shit!"
"Ellie!!!"
"Girl's got insane strength!"
"Elizabeth Valentine!!"
Girls' screams, friends' pleas, prof's roar—chaos. Amid it, Elizabeth stared straight, unflinching.
"Say it again. Beatrice. What about my dad?"
Shortly after, Leo was summoned to the school.