Chapter 121
Chapter 121
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 121
Chapter Title: 38. Same Bed, Different Dreams (2)
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Gawain had long been aware that something was wrong with him.
But at the time, it was just crumbs on his lips and hands, or a bit of indigestion—nothing worth dwelling on deeply.
He first grasped the severity of the issue after some time had passed since arriving at the capital.
When he woke up, his body was caked in dirt. There were even bloodstains on his boots.
He learned belatedly that the day before, he'd followed the prince on some mission, and the dirt and blood were from that. It was on a whole different level from indigestion or food scraps.
To leave the castle without any awareness and even swing a sword...
He agonized over it, but there was no solution.
Since nothing else happened afterward, he buried the unease deep in his heart.
Until his visit to the Marquis of Entrant's estate.
When he woke, he had become a hero who defeated an imperial paladin. As a bonus, he got the embarrassing title of "Unyielding Third Knight."
And his body—what a mess it was.
His armor was covered in slashes and stabs, and the mana inside him was a chaotic storm.
It made sense after fighting a paladin.
The problem was that he remembered none of it.
His comrades who fought alongside him were in the same boat.
They racked their brains together for days.
Then, the First Prince suddenly came to mind.
The prince knew they couldn't match a paladin. It felt off that he had put them forward as opponents in such a crucial match.
Maybe the prince knew something.
"So that's why you came to me?"
Gawain nodded at the First Prince's question.
"What if I threw you out as disposable pawns in a fight I knew we'd lose anyway?"
Gawain was speechless for a moment.
It was an unexpected question.
Something they could've figured out with a little thought—why hadn't he and his comrades considered it?
What had they been expecting, exactly?
Gawain's face flushed crimson with shame at his own childish behavior, seeking answers from such a young prince.
He shot to his feet, about to flee the carriage,
"No, you came to the right place."
The First Prince stopped him.
"Sit down first."
Reluctantly, he sat back down and waited for an explanation.
"You really want to know?"
"What happened to my body. Of course I do."
The prince confirmed several times if he truly wanted the truth, even murmuring cryptically that ignorance was sometimes bliss.
Terror gripped him, but Gawain steeled himself and demanded the truth.
"If that's what you want."
The First Prince began his tale with uncharacteristic seriousness.
The revealed truth was shocking.
"A wraith—a Death Knight's soul—entered my body?"
His face drained of color as he patted himself down frantically. The prince added in a low voice.
Death Knights weren't inherently evil. They were the noble spirits of knights who gave their lives for the founding king, lingering in the world only because unfinished business remained.
"I don't know what mission keeps them here. But one thing's certain—they mean you no harm."
"You call that no harm?!"
"If you don't believe me, check your mana. It's probably increased from before. The pain should be less too."
The prince's words rang true. Gawain knew his own body better than anyone.
But he couldn't accept it.
This wasn't about gains and losses.
It was a threat to his very existence, a fear that human Gawain might vanish.
He felt like the Death Knight could seize his flesh at any moment. Just imagining it made his heart clench, his body turning ice-cold.
A terror he'd never known.
"I said it before—they won't take your body by force."
"They've already used it without permission several times! I don't even remember! And you knew and exploited it!"
The carriage door flew open, and the prince's female knights appeared. They'd rushed over at the commotion.
"Your Highness, are you alright?"
They rested hands on their sword hilts, eyes sharp as blades, ready to strike on command.
"It's nothing."
"Your Highness."
"I said it's nothing."
The First Prince waved them off.
"Gawain, was it?"
Just before the door closed, the knight whispered.
"If you don't want regrets later, don't act rashly."
"Arwen!"
At the prince's irritated voice, the knight bit her lip.
"Remember what I said."
Or regret it for life.
She apologized to the prince and shut the door.
"What a worrywart, and she's not even a kid."
The First Prince shook his head, looking oddly awkward.
"I'll apologize for using them without permission."
But Gawain paid little mind to the prince's expression.
Right now, resolving the anomaly in his body was all that mattered.
"I'll ask permission from now on."
"You think I'd give it?"
"If you really refuse, no choice. But I can't stop them from acting on their own. They don't listen worth a damn."
"How do I get rid of them?"
"What am I, a priest? How should I know?"
"Would a priest fix it?"
"Guaranteed, go to a temple and the priests will try to incinerate you whole. 'Impure flesh must be purified by fire,' they'll say."
As he bantered with the prince, the fear ebbed away.
Listening to the prince talk so casually, Gawain wondered if he was just overreacting. As the prince said, the losses were minimal, gains substantial.
Of course, he didn't truly believe it. He was just trying to convince himself.
"Anything else I need to know?"
The prince pondered before speaking.
"Echion."
"Echion?"
"The kingdom's youngest Royal Knight, who sacrificed himself for the king 400 years ago. Honored as a paladin in death."
Gawain stared blankly, and the prince shrugged.
"Figured you should at least know the name of the one inside you."
"No need."
Even as he said it, Gawain etched the name into his mind.
His heart tingled oddly.
A body that failed to die for the king, now housing the soul of one who did.
Could there be a more ironic twist?
Gawain shook his head.
Chicken skin prickled suddenly across my skin.
I watched Gawain step out of the carriage. Faint ripples emanated from him, scattering outward.
Swoosh.
The ripples vanished as abruptly as they'd appeared.
"Hm?"
Gawain tilted his head, then closed the carriage door and left.
Alone now, I chuckled.
"Thought he'd whip up a revenge saga or something right away."
I reached out. Nothing. No ripples, no thrill—nothing.
"Way too late anyway."
But I knew.
The ripples were gone, but that deep resonance would soon resurface.
That's how feats of valor worked.
Knock knock.
As I smirked to myself, someone rapped on the door.
"It's Arwen."
"Come in."
The door opened, and Arwen entered.
Her newly shortened hair made her look even more striking as she immediately apologized.
"I overstepped earlier."
Ah, about her words to Gawain.
"I wasn't going to tell you everything anyway."
"I wanted to."
"Just a thought doesn't count."
"If you hadn't stopped me, I would've."
I brushed it off lightly, finally taking a good look at her face.
"You have something to say..."
She looked more serious than usual, so I gestured for her to sit opposite.
She sat and gazed at me steadily.
"Your Highness, I wish you'd set down some of your burdens."
"Burdens?"
"You're shouldering far too much alone."
"If it's about Gawain..."
"It's not just this."
She critiqued my overall demeanor.
Too tense, trying to handle everything solo—it made her anxious just watching.
She had a point.
Somewhere along the way, my initial plan to live it up as a human had vanished. Independence for the kingdom had become my sole obsession.
"Have you spent even a moment lately for yourself?"
I pondered her question.
And realized.
I'd done nothing for myself.
Truly. Not a single thing.
"It's worsened since Lord Ballerhard's passing. You're driving yourself relentlessly."
Arwen looked at me with pity.
An emotion I couldn't comprehend.
I'd fought, grown stronger, laid foundations for independence.
My time hadn't been wasted.
"No one can live like that. Humans don't."
Why did Arwen keep insisting I was wrong?
It baffled me.
My brow furrowed involuntarily.
Arwen watched the First Prince.
He tilted his head as if hearing something perplexing.
Seeing it stirred something in her chest.
This young prince was fundamentally broken.
She hadn't noticed before breaking through her wall. She just followed him blindly.
Only after surpassing it did she see.
How much he carried alone. How he abused himself.
He always charged ahead without pause.
As if stopping was a sin.
Looking back, he'd always been this way.
Always at the vanguard, diving into the fiercest battles, heedless of his life.
Covered in wounds great and small, he barely survived a mortal blow from the Warlord.
Awakening weeks ago, he rolled through bloodbaths on an injured body to discipline negligent northern lords.
No time to recover, he held endless meetings to reclaim the north, then rushed to the front lines once he could wield a sword.
He acted as if Lord Ballerhard's death and Winter Castle's fall were his fault. What could a mere sixteen-year-old have done?
It was the same now.
Anything could happen in the imperial capital. If the emperor whimsically slaughtered the delegation, no one could protest.
The prince knew it too.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have entrusted stolen imperial intel to stealthy elves.
He surely anticipated the worst, unlike before.
With the dangerous capital looming, he poured all his energy into reassuring knights.
Even indulging a man's complaints when he didn't even follow him.
A three-hundred-strong delegation clung to a boy not yet of age, and no one found it odd. Shameless.
She'd been the same until recently.
Pretending to care now was laughable, but she couldn't hold back anymore.
"If Lord Ballerhard were alive, he'd surely say this."
She emphasized to the prince, who still looked confused.
"You're doing well. So take a break now and then."
The prince fell silent. After a long pause, he spoke.
"I'm too hasty, huh? Got it. I'll heed Arwen's words. Nice and easy. Vincent would freak."
His playful reply drew another sigh from her.
Best to withdraw for today.
It wasn't something to change overnight.
"Then good night, Your Highness."
"You too, Arwen."
She bowed slightly and left the carriage.
"Hm?"
Knights crowded around the carriage.
They averted their heavy gazes, faces full of shame.
Arwen pretended not to notice.
They must've overheard the conversation.
That was all she thought.
That night, the delegation's camp was unusually quiet.
Only the faint footsteps of one fiercely devoted woman pacing before the prince's carriage echoed occasionally through the night.
And dawn broke.
"Let's move out."
At the First Prince's command, the delegation advanced toward the capital.
The formation was tighter than ever, knights' eyes razor-sharp.
A massive fortress appeared in the distance.
Soon, a cavalry unit burst from the gates.
Imperial capital guardsmen.
"Don't let your guard down for a second from now on!"
The Iron Lion Knights' vice-commander barked. Knights' auras sharpened, eyes deepened.
Arwen stuck close to the carriage.
Kals Yulihi, Adelia, the elves.
Exchanging glances, the imperial cavalry reached them.
"We'll escort you to the palace!"
Under their lead, the delegation finally entered the imperial capital.
It was a day five months and a fortnight after setting foot on imperial soil.