Chapter 218
Chapter 218
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 218
Chapter Title: 64. Empty Yet Full (4)
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"Your Majesty!"
The Old Knight caught the King's collapsing body.
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"
"Cough."
The King vomited a gush of blood.
"To end up like this, struck by the blade of one who once served me... Truly a fitting end for a foolish king."
"No one would dare call Your Majesty foolish or cowardly. You fought brilliantly. More valiantly than any knight."
"I don't care for empty flattery, but right now, I want to believe you. If only one wish... I hope that child thinks the same."
That even this incompetent father was kingly in his final moments.
Watching the King reveal his rare emotions, the Old Knight ground his teeth.
"His Highness the Crown Prince will be prouder of Your Majesty than anyone."
Pretending as if nothing was wrong, he spoke to the King.
The King suddenly looked up at the sky.
"I miss her."
"The Queen must be proud of Your Majesty as well."
The Old Knight said, seeing the pale smile.
"I don't expect that much. As long as she doesn't scold me for neglecting my archery practice and ending up like this."
The deeper the emotion in those words, the quieter his voice grew.
Until it faded away completely.
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"
Startled, the Old Knight called out to the King.
The King, who had slowly closed his eyes, snapped them open.
"Help me stand. I don't want to meet my end cradled pathetically in someone else's arms."
With those words, the King staggered to his feet.
Supported by the Old Knight, the King straightened his back. He then raised his sword, pointing it at the Imperial forces.
"I shall stand with you."
The Old Knight positioned himself beside the King.
The wounded beasts in their eyes made the Empire's paladins hesitate and fall back.
Cunningly, instead of advancing themselves, they gestured for others to move forward.
The Empire's archers in the rear raised their bows in unison.
"I'm sorry. Had you met a capable sovereign, you might have shaken the world with your fame."
"Speak not such words. I met a king worth serving truly, and after decades at his side, I stand here till the end. As a knight, I have no regrets."
A single tear fell from the Old Knight as he stepped in front of the King.
Blood trickled down his back, flowing along his thigh to the ground.
Drip. Drip.
The Old Knight spread his legs over the pool of blood and raised his sword.
Twang.
The Empire's archers released their bowstrings.
Facing the black rain of arrows, the Old Knight poured his soul into the tip of his blade.
Then, with all his life's strength, he swung.
Dozens of arrows shattered as the sword light cleaved through the air.
But hundreds more still darkened the sky.
"Your Majesty. I shall go ahead and wait for you."
Sensing his final moments, the Old Knight embraced the King.
He glared fiercely at the descending arrow storm.
Right then—
Whoosh!
A gale-force wind roared.
The hundreds of arrows caught in the savage blast lost direction, scattering everywhere.
And then—
Boom!
Something enormous crashed down onto the Imperial forces with a thunderous roar.
Like a ferocious lightning bolt. Like a sharp spear.
Dust billowed up.
At the sudden upheaval, the Old Knight strained his eyes.
Grrrrowl.
From beyond the dust, a low throat-rumble echoed.
Screeech!
A horrific scream followed.
Whoosh.
The wind blew. The thick dust was swept away into the distance.
The Old Knight widened his eyes.
Before him unfolded a scene unbelievable even to his eyes.
An Empire paladin, the pride of the Empire, dangled impaled on a spear in mid-air.
Grrrrowl.
A massive beast with an Imperial soldier in its jaws growled deeply.
A wyvern—one of the fiercest and largest among Dotrin's wyverns.
"Tch. No wonder it felt off."
The wyvern's master, the King of Dotrin, clicked his tongue.
The Imperial forces, snapping to attention at the sudden appearance of Dotrin's monarch, belatedly aimed their spears and swords.
Two paladins who had luckily dodged the dive raised their swords and surrounded the wyvern.
But the King of Dotrin seemed utterly unconcerned with them.
"...!"
Offended by his disregard, the paladins roared and charged.
Yet they halted before taking five steps.
At their feet lay a thick line gouged into the earth, as if it had always been there.
"Step closer, and I guarantee something very exciting will happen."
His voice, utterly devoid of excitement despite the words, served as the most certain warning.
Thus pinning down the paladins, the King of Dotrin smiled toward the Old Knight.
"The warlocks are coming. Hold on just a bit longer. They're hopeless at healing magic, but they'll provide some help at least."
He shook the spear skewering an Imperial paladin like a kebab.
"Have you come to our aid? Your Majesty's wounds are grave. Did your kingdom's mages not come? Where are the other reinforcements?"
Regaining his wits, the Old Knight rapidly fired questions.
"I thought you were the taciturn type, but no."
One Doris loudmouth is enough, the King of Dotrin grumbled, furrowing his brow.
"First, the answers. I had a bad feeling, so I hurried just in case. Our mages are en route. The warlocks suck at healing, but they can manage emergency measures."
"Where are the reinforcements? Surely you didn't come alone?"
When the Old Knight asked again, the King of Dotrin bared his teeth in a grin.
"Of course I have company."
He tucked the spear under his armpit and rummaged with his free hand.
Rustle, rustle.
His leisurely motions soon turned frantic.
His eyes, overlooking the world from atop the wyvern, darted around.
Pat.
His hand, groping at chest level, gripped the spear.
"My companion is this fellow."
He meant it manfully, but to the Old Knight, it sounded like the lame excuse of someone who forgot something important.
Averting the Old Knight's gaze, the King of Dotrin shouted fluently in the Imperial tongue at the Empire's knights.
"......!"
A few Imperial knights snorted.
"Doesn't work, as expected."
"What did you say?"
"Truth is, I had something important to end this battle. Without it, the Imperials won't believe me."
The Old Knight asked what it was.
The King of Dotrin replied indifferently.
"The war is over. The Empire admitted defeat, promised massive reparations, and ceded border territories to your kingdom."
The Old Knight's eyes nearly popped out.
"Your Crown Prince pressured their 3rd Prince into signing a humiliating armistice. A Dotrin wyvern knight borrowed the document briefly and brought it to me. The Burgundy imperial army dispatched to attack your fleet turned back upon seeing the seal, so the document is undoubtedly genuine."
With that, the King of Dotrin smacked his lips.
"But I rushed here so hastily that I left it with someone else and forgot to bring it. That's our current problem."
"What do you...?"
"Well, it's not a big deal."
As the Old Knight let out a hollow laugh, the King of Dotrin smirked.
"Until my slug of a subordinate brings the armistice, I'll just hold them off myself."
At that moment, the Imperial forces, seizing the opening, charged with a roar.
"Stay right there. Get caught in the crossfire, and some ill-tempered someone might try to eat me alive."
The King of Dotrin flashed a roguish grin.
But the Old Knight couldn't find it amusing.
An overwhelming aura erupted centered on him.
The aura became a current, the current a wind.
Whoosh!
The swirling wind became a gale, then a storm.
"I'll be back."
His voice rang exceptionally clear amid the raging winds.
In that instant, the storm engulfed the Imperial forces.
Boom!
Screams and wails rode the wind.
Mixed in was the sound of someone laughing madly.
There was no time to ponder what it was.
To avoid being swept into the raging storm, the Old Knight desperately clung to his remaining strength.
With both arms cradling the now-limp King.
Crash!
The endless-seeming storm began to subside. No more screams, wails, or laughter sounded.
When it finally ended, the Old Knight beheld a superhuman standing aloof amid chunks of flesh and metal shards numbering in the dozens, hundreds.
Like a beast sated after a feast.
Gazing at that full, satisfied face, suspicion naturally arose—had this man deliberately left the armistice behind?
The surviving Imperials shrank back in terror.
The King of Dotrin glanced at them with a bored expression, as if the show was over.
"The warlocks I was waiting for have arrived."
He pointed his bloodied spear tip at the sky.
The Old Knight tilted his head back and looked up.
A hundred wyverns circled the battlefield skies.
Thud thud thud.
Late to arrive, the ground-shaking thunder of hooves echoed.
The Old Knight followed the sound with his eyes.
In the distance, hundreds of cavalry and thousands of infantry charged forward.
Black lion banners symbolizing the Iron Lion fluttering.
* * *
"The Dotrin warlocks could breathe a handful of life into Your Majesty, but they lacked the power to fully heal the wound."
The Old Knight sighed, saying the abdominal injury from that damned traitor had festered after all.
"Your Majesty remained unconscious for quite some time. The Dotrin monarch said the wound wasn't the issue—that Your Majesty lacked the will to live."
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Old memories flashed rapidly through my mind and vanished.
For years now, the King had aged rapidly. Everyone worried, but his vigorous activity dispelled concerns quickly.
I was the same.
The initial frailty and incompetence had vanished, replaced by a fiercely burning king—not a bad sight, I'd thought.
Who knew that flame was fueled by squeezing out his remaining life and soul?
The King had likely lived awaiting the moment to die fighting the Empire, dragging the nobles along. The day he'd burn himself as firewood for the Queen's flame.
When that purpose was fulfilled, nothing remained.
Not the will sustaining his life, nor attachment to it.
"Damn it."
A curse slipped out.
'From here, it's Knight Bail's fight.'
'Someone must stay for the aftermath. I entrust that burden to you.'
My last conversation with my uncle flashed by.
Just recalling it boiled my blood at my powerless self then. My uncle's serene farewell etched so clearly it tore at my heart.
It overlapped with the King, bandaged tightly over painful memories.
The thick shadow of death around the aged King's eyes flickered before me.
If the King died, it would become another burden for me.
Like my uncle's death. Like the Queen's. Like the sword fairies'.
"Everyone does whatever they want. Dumping burdens on me without a thought for how I feel."
At my irritated remark, the Old Knight continued as if he hadn't heard.
"In any case, we owe Dotrin a great debt this time. Escaping the Imperials, and Your Majesty regaining consciousness—thanks to their monarch."
"Escaping the Imperials, fine. But how did Your Majesty regain consciousness?"
I couldn't even guess.
Reigniting embers in ashes burned to the core wasn't done with mere words.
"I don't know the details. The Dotrin monarch whispered something in Your Majesty's ear, and he awoke. That's all I can surmise."
Regrettably, the Old Knight knew nothing more.
I shook off the questions.
Now wasn't the time to wonder what the descendant of Changcheonhu said to the King.
"How much time does Your Majesty have left?"
At my question, the Old Knight's face filled with despair, falling silent.
He couldn't bring himself to speak of his lord's end.
I persuaded him that knowing the remaining time was necessary to prepare for the future.
Only after a long while did he say it wouldn't exceed four months at most.
"Got it."
Having heard the gist, I told the Old Knight to withdraw.
Instead of leaving, he knelt before me.
Begging punishment for failing to protect his lord properly.
I asked why he sought blame from the wrong person when the King lived.
The Old Knight, shoulders slumped, bowed and left my room.
Watching him, I thought.
If the King passed like this, the Old Knight would surely succumb to self-recrimination.
That wasn't what I wanted.
As the King said, he was a valuable asset who must continue devoting himself to the kingdom.
I didn't want to see such a man break his sword watching his lord die. Nor a Leonberger felled by Imperial rabble.
I wanted both intact when the kingdom reclaimed its past glory.
Not because of promises to friends.
Simply because I wished it.
The origin of that wish mattered not a whit.
What mattered was that I had the means.
"Gunefu."
At my quiet call, the half-elf appeared.
"The Elf Sword Corps remains at the outer walls of Iron Lion Fortress."
Gunefu stared blankly at me.
"Go there and find the high elf."
She furrowed her fine brows, then mouthed softly to me.
[High elves never converse with half-breeds.]
I told her that claiming to be my envoy, even a haughty high elf wouldn't dare act superior.
Having failed even their goal of currying favor amid the sudden armistice, they'd be desperate now for any connection to me.
"Time's short, so I'm counting on you now."
I stopped her as she turned to leave.
"Don't feel inferior over your mixed blood."
I added one more thing.
"Never forget I'm always behind you."
Gunefu rounded her eyes at me.
Then bowed her head and swiftly left the room.
Alone, I glared beyond toward the King's chambers and snorted.
"Thinking of dumping everything on me and leaving as you please?"
I had no intention of letting that happen.
I would save him without fail. Force that irresponsible king to fulfill his duties.
For that, I needed the high elf first.
Precisely, not some arrogant high elf pup not even fully grown.
The supreme elixir permitted only to the noblest fairies.
Nectar.
The miracle potion that could turn back a lion's stride even from death's door, as long as a breath remained—that was what I awaited so desperately.
"Ordinary high elves receive nectar on their first outing."
And this naive high elf youth's first outing was this one.
How convenient.
I chuckled alone and jumped to my own conclusion.
Perhaps among the gifts from high elves eager to mend ties with me, the nectar Arnnand carried from the start was included.
Of course, the high elf who thought elves superior and knew nothing of the world's perils wouldn't agree with my thinking at all.