The Mad Dog Becomes a Knight
Rood opened his eyes naturally at the sound of knocking on his door early that morning.
"Sir Rood. May I come in?"
It was not Isabelle's voice, but someone else's, so Rood had to think for a moment.
"You may enter."
At Rood's permission, five maids filed into the room. They were pulling a tray loaded with items, all of them luxurious cosmetics. The last two maids dragged in a wheeled clothing rack packed with garments.
'They must be here to prepare for the knighting ceremony.'
Rood knew what they intended to do, yet he inwardly recoiled at their approach. He instinctively rejected the extravagance of makeup, and as a soldier, he found the idea of wearing it distasteful. Living in a world where he never knew when he might have to roll through mud or be drenched in blood had hardened his thoughts like old scabs.
"May I ask whether you prefer something ornate or something simple?"
Rood paused briefly before answering.
"Simple. Just the basics, please."
But despite his request, all five maids descended on him at once, rubbing powder and brushes across every inch of his face. Since this was the first time Rood had ever received such treatment, he said nothing and kept a straight face so as not to interfere with their work.
"Sir Rood, it would be better if you relaxed your expression. The makeup will turn out much nicer."
"Ah, yes. I'm sorry."
Rood unconsciously loosened the tension in his facial muscles. However, he couldn't quite tell if he'd relaxed them properly, so an awkward expression remained on his face.
With a soft rustle, one of the maids lifted an armful of clothes from the rack and stood beside the still-made-up Rood.
"Sir Rood. Which color among these catches your eye?"
"Ah, well. Any of them is fine."
"Then would it be acceptable if I arbitrarily interpret the meaning of the knighting ceremony and suggest something tailored to you?"
Rood gave a short affirmative.
After hearing his reply, the maid set aside several garments, selected a few more, and held them out to him.
"The soldiers of House Voenac wear white and blue. However, since you are to be the proxy head's personal knight, we also wish to incorporate the house colors."
The colors representing House Voenac were green and purple. The maid explained that the overall outfit would be based on white and blue, with brooches or belts featuring the house colors as accents.
"Given that your eyes are a bright teal, perhaps a green would suit you..."
Rood inwardly preferred green over purple, so he nodded in agreement.
"Now then, would you please remove your clothes?"
"Right... now?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"I'd like to dress myself. Would that be all right?"
At Rood's words, one of the maids asked in a bright, puzzled voice.
"Oh my, is there anyone here who didn't see you completely naked when you first arrived? Just let us handle it!"
Rood's face instantly flushed with embarrassment at the maid's words. He recalled the time shortly after his arrival when he had stood before the other servants without a stitch of clothing.
"S-still, I'd rather do it myself."
At Rood's insistence, the other servants didn't press the matter and left the room.
"Once you've changed, we'll return to check your makeup and escort you to the ceremony."
At the sound of the door closing, Rood let out a light sigh and began putting on the clothes the servants had chosen, one piece at a time. His shoulders and back were broader than most people's, so he had worried the garments might not fit, but they turned out to be perfectly tailored.
"It's... surprisingly comfortable."
The white uniform was flawless, without a single loose thread. On the chest was an embroidered golden hawk carrying lavender in its beak as it soared. The lining was a deep blue, and Rood's heart raced at the enchanting hue. Since ancient times, blue had been a rare pigment reserved exclusively for the royal family and nobility.
Rood's belt was made of leather dyed a deeper green than the color of his eyes. It cinched his waist, which seemed slightly broader than average, snugly in place.
Rood walked over to the full-length mirror and examined himself, nodding in approval.
"Not bad at all."
He noticed that his face looked a bit fairer and his features sharper than before the makeup. Still, he felt no excessive excitement or surprise.
"You may come in now."
At Rood's call, the maids filed back in and began inspecting his face from every angle. After a few more brushstrokes, they nodded in satisfaction and began packing the cosmetics back onto the tray.
"We will now proceed to the location of the knighting ceremony. Please follow me."
The four maids who had helped prepare Rood for the ceremony headed toward another part of the mansion, while Rood followed the one assigned to guide him. They passed through the garden outside the mansion and turned onto the path leading to the training grounds on the right.
Inside the training area, two buildings were arranged in an L-shape. Rood followed the maid into the building directly ahead. Compared to the mansion, its decorations were plain and its appearance austere, but the building's clean straight lines made it feel open and comfortable.
"Ah, Sir Rood. I'll need to hold onto the sword you're wearing for a moment."
"I cannot relinquish my sword."
"It's because you cannot carry any other blade during the ceremony."
At the maid's explanation, Rood let out a short groan, unfastened the tightly secured sword from his belt, and handed it to her.
"Thank you for your understanding. Now then, remain silent for a long time, and act in a single moment."
The maid left him with that strange remark and disappeared down the corridor. The soldiers standing on either side of Rood announced his arrival and opened the massive doors.
An array of knights' swords completely blocked Rood's view.
"Enter!"
Rood had worried that his long years on the battlefield might have made him forget formal etiquette, but contrary to his fears, his body moved with precise, disciplined steps. With every stride he took, the soldiers on both sides raised their swords in perfect unison, literally parting a tidal wave of blades before him.
After cutting through countless waves of swords, he reached the end where Isabelle stood, dressed differently than before. She wore a white and purple dress, and the ribbon tying her braided hair shimmered in lavender as well.
Rood approached her with proper courtesy and knelt.
"I greet the esteemed proxy head of House Voenac."
While Rood waited with his eyes closed for Isabelle's response, the sound of a sword being drawn rang out.
Shing.
It was an endlessly clear and light sound. The beautiful ring of the blade made Rood's heart stir so strongly that his eyes nearly flew open.
"Rood, you may open your eyes."
Isabelle's voice carried a gravity and dignity unlike her usual tone, yet it felt surprisingly natural. Rood opened his eyes.
'She's beautiful.'
The Isabelle before him stood transformed. The deep navy blade she held was so dark and blue that it seemed to swallow even the sunlight.
'So this is a sword made of Ispero steel. It's truly exquisite.'
Rood instinctively realized it was the blade forged from the Ispero mountain steel he had selected in a previous report. Just the thought that such a magnificent sword would become his own made Rood's heart pound violently.
"Rood, first-class special operative of the Kingdom Alliance. Do you understand why you stand here today?"
Rood answered in a tone that anyone could tell was performative.
"How could a lowly man of meager understanding possibly comprehend your august will?"
Before the ceremony, Isabelle had insisted he memorize the archaic speech, and Rood had struggled quite a bit to learn the obscure formal language.
"I know that you have guarded the peace of the land and produced results beyond your duty."
Isabelle continued.
"I know that you desired the peace of all nations above your own safety, and that you displayed an indomitable will to overcome any adversity."
Rood responded.
"This foolish subject begs you to show him the path he must walk!"
"Remember this. A knight is not one who can wield a sword..."
Isabelle said with a gentle smile.
"...but one who endures to the end the reason a sword is needed."
One who endures to the end the reason a sword is needed. At Isabelle's words, Rood bowed his head of his own accord. In truth, there was a conviction he had never lost on the battlefield where he had endured so much. It was not only the strong who survived on the battlefield. That logic generally held true, yet sometimes even the strong died or were wounded easily. However, after watching those who survived, Rood had discovered one common trait.
Those who knew why they swung their swords survived with stubborn persistence. Rood had seen far too many cases where people who lost their purpose amid countless wars and tragedies failed to live out their natural lifespans despite their skill. After losing Dale, Rood himself had been shaken so badly that he had walked the line between life and death several times.
By now, Rood's voice no longer carried any trace of performance. It was filled with genuine sincerity as he sought the answer.
"How does one fulfill that purpose?"
"Do not oppress the weak. Do not raise the tip of your sword with lies. Do not value honor more lightly than blood."
Rood flinched at Isabelle's first words: do not oppress the weak. The command not to raise the tip of your sword with lies meant not to elevate your name through deception, but it also seemed to point directly at Rood's fighting style, making him flinch again. After all, he had always won battles by deceiving and toying with his opponents.
The final admonition—not to value honor more lightly than blood—delivered the finishing blow to Rood's already twice-flustered heart. He had always treated honor as something trivial. He had reached this position by pursuing only survival and efficiency.
Whether she knew what was in his heart or not, Isabelle smiled brightly and said,
"You may raise your head."
Rood met Isabelle's eyes. At some point, she had become someone else entirely. Just as when she had used magic before, Isabelle now stood before him in the complete form of an adult. The soldiers, the people of the family, and especially Pete and Moneck stared at her with faces frozen in shock, but no one uttered a sound.
The dress that had seemed slightly loose on her now fit her body perfectly, revealing every graceful line without flaw. At the sight of her, Rood even forgot about the sword she held.
"I know that you have risked your life for me not once, but twice. A knight must originally be able to wield Aura, however..."
Isabelle said.
"I have judged that you are already a man capable of wielding Aura. Therefore, I hereby knight you."
Isabelle raised the tip of the sword that had been pointing downward. Shing.
Rood stared fixedly at Isabelle's sparkling eyes as if entranced. She tapped his right shoulder twice with the flat of the blade, then did the same to his left shoulder.
"By the family motto of House Voenac, I complete this knighting ceremony. Remain silent for a long time, and act in a single moment."
At Isabelle's words, thunderous applause erupted throughout the room. Only then did Rood realize that the strange phrase the maid had given him before entering the room had been House Voenac's family motto.
Isabelle placed her hands on the hilt and blade of the sword and offered it to Rood. He accepted it with both hands, which he had already extended. Isabelle then bestowed upon him a scabbard engraved with the Voenac family crest of a lilac-bearing hawk and a pair of golden spurs.
The new sword, scabbard, and golden spurs were the symbols declaring that he had become the personal knight of House Voenac.
As Rood received them all, he felt joy, yet inwardly he thought,
'To think that I, who was called the Mad Dog on the battlefield, would receive a knighting ceremony. What a strange turn of events.'
The first face that came to Rood's mind was Dale's. His old comrade, whose martial prowess had not surpassed his own but whose mind had already been mature. Though he still could not use Aura, the fact that he had ultimately risen to the position of knight could not be denied. Imagining what kind of expression Dale would make if he saw him now was rather enjoyable.
The knighting ceremony thus concluded amid grand applause.
After the ceremony ended, Rood rose from his position and looked down at Isabelle. Her appearance, now fully matured, was both difficult to get used to and breathtakingly beautiful, so he found himself losing his train of thought every time he looked at her.
Isabelle stumbled, nearly falling, but Rood caught her immediately.
"Why are you being so clumsy?"
"Hehe, it seems I pushed myself a little too far."
A trickle of blood leaked from one of Isabelle's nostrils.
"Are you all right? Is it because of me..."
"Ahem, no. Still, it was a once-in-a-lifetime knighting ceremony, wasn't it? I thought this much was necessary."
Soon her body gradually shrank until she returned to her former appearance. Pete approached Isabelle with a grave expression.
"Lady Isabelle..."
"Ugh, I said I'm fine! Isn't the main character someone else right now?"
Rood realized that Isabelle had temporarily released the power in her body to match his dignity for the ceremony. He thought her a bit foolish, but at the same time, he could fully feel the weight the knighting ceremony carried. He had become not a sword that would cut down one more enemy, but a shield that would protect her. And she, in turn, regarded him as dearly as her own life.
"Now then, let's enjoy a short party for just today!"
At Isabelle's declaration, everyone gathered in the room began to disperse at once. The party had begun.
When many people had gathered once more, the room was filled with food and drink.
"Sir Rood. If you wish to wield Aura, you must be able to endure at least this much."
"O-of course..."
Rood downed the wine in front of him and glared at Moneck.
"You didn't become a personal knight while being unable to handle even this much, did you?"
At Moneck's provocation, Rood poured the wine from the bottle into his glass with a heavy glug. Fine. Let's see whether you win or I win.