Zealous Holy Knights

Zain gripped the longsword. It wasn't the standard longsword of the Iron Lion Knights but a crude goblin-forged blade. The balance was off, but a sword was still a sword. The moment he took hold of it, Zain became a true knight. Though he hadn't done so since joining the order three months ago, he swung the blade and shouted.

"Swing it heavy as a mountain—Iron Lion Standard Heavy Sword, First Form!"

Whoosh! He brought the sword down like chopping firewood.

"Shift your weight forward and load it in!"

That's what the instructor had said. Stepping forward with the lead foot while committing your weight to the blade was the basic principle of heavy swordsmanship. The Iron Lion standard swordsmanship prioritized brutal practicality above all.

"Linked Form Four—Lion Thrust!"

He took another step forward. At the same time, he thrust the lowered blade forward like a spear. With arms fully extended, the reach exceeded what any foe could anticipate. It was a linked technique to pierce the throat of a retreating enemy.

Clap clap clap clap—

The onlookers applauded Zain's display. Lania clapped enthusiastically, while Oliver looked reluctant. The problem was that the audience included goblins.

Zain's face flushed beet red. He wasn't the type to get flustered under attention—he just couldn't wrap his head around the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Is this a dream?

Demonstrating swordsmanship surrounded by monsters and goblins. And getting applause from the monsters, no less. It was all at the behest of one such monster: the tiny white snake coiled on the neck of that massive chimera snake. No matter how you looked at it, it seemed pathetic. Sure, its scales gleamed like crystal and the crown on its head looked impressive, but its expression gave it away—mouth agape, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Why the hell does a snake want to learn swordsmanship?

"That concludes the heavy sword first form and its linked technique…."

"A most satisfying display."

The goblin king translated the snake's words. Zain doubted the accuracy—surely that little white snake didn't speak in such archaic, dignified tones.

"Would you… care to try it yourself?"

Zain asked. At first, he couldn't fathom how a snake would swing a sword. But the snake could use magic, surprisingly enough. It lifted the confiscated dagger, Ashira, as if it were a full longsword—meaning the blade floated in midair.

"Uh, so, now shift your weight to your front foot…."

Zain trailed off. The snake had no front feet. And its main body was rooted in that tree trunk, anyway.

"…Bring the sword down."

Whoosh! The sword descended limply.

"Step forward again and thrust it like a spear…."

The dagger shot forward—then whoosh, high into the sky. The invisible hand completed a full loop before returning to position.

….

This was blatantly not swordsmanship.

Clap clap clap clap—

Yet the goblins applauded, and even sleepy Lania jolted awake to join in. The snake danced in delight. Zain couldn't fathom why it looked so proud.

Teaching standard sword forms to outsiders is forbidden….

Naturally, you couldn't transmit Iron Lion Knights techniques without permission. But there was no rule against teaching a snake, so Zain took solace in that. Besides, he wasn't the only one in this awkward spot. Suspicious hunter Oliver had been roped into teaching dagger techniques too.

Oliver looked utterly disgusted but endured for Lania's sake.

"I'll teach you the Perang School Dagger Technique…."

A hunter whose trade was slaying monsters—now imparting dagger skills to prey. Had it figured out his technique was special? How? The goblin interpreter had specifically requested Perang School.

Perang was the name of a legendary thief who terrorized the Empire. "Choin Perang," still idolized by rogues. Astonishingly, Oliver was his successor. A closely guarded secret, though Zain and Lania had already glimpsed it.

"It's a very advanced dagger technique… so it's only natural if you can't keep up."

Drawing from the holster at his waist was the starting point.

"E-Ea-Ea-Eagle Killer…!"

Shouting the technique name mid-performance was a first for Oliver. He drew and hurled the dagger in one motion. It spun wildly in the air. Then Oliver dropped low, unleashing a ghostly kick that struck the hilt perfectly.

Squeak—thunk!

The flung dagger embedded in the ground, vibrating. Impractical in real combat, but flashy as hell—that was pure Perang School.

The snake's reaction was explosive.

Saaah!

"Most gratifying indeed!"

Even without Nanaruk's translation, its satisfaction was obvious.

"Give it a try."

How could a footless snake perform Eagle Killer? Yet it did.

Whirrr! Dagger Ashira spun in midair.

The problem? It kept spinning endlessly, despite the sluggish speed.

…Insane.

An invisible hand gripped the hilt—or rather, its wrist at most. The magic was clearly spinning the blade in place.

But the crowd oohed and aahed.

"Ooooh!"

"Waaaah!"

The goblins clapped and cheered. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Maybe the endless rotation looked magical. (It was literally magic.)

Thunk! Instead of a kick, the dagger just stabbed the ground. Hardly impressive momentum.

Yet Runga's goblins chanted my name.

"Uroboros! Uroboros!"

"Uroboros! Kaaak chinggit!"

The fervor spread like zealots' mania. Though the object of worship, that white snake, was just doing a ridiculous dance.

For some reason, bile rose in Oliver's chest. He might develop a stress illness at this rate.

"Hoo…."

He sighed deeply, steadying himself. His eyes met Zain's. They'd been at each other's throats moments ago, but now they shared the sorrow of kindred sufferers.

At least they had one consolation.

It'll never master them properly.

Superior swordsmanship became high-tier skills in itself. But monsters rarely acquired them successfully. Only rarely did bipedal ones with proper limbs mimic something similar. A magic-using snake learning swordplay? Not just extremely difficult—straight-up impossible.

No risk of Perang School or Iron Lion techniques leaking.

Just let it ape around.

That was Zain and Oliver's shared thought.

Aaah, this is why Diligence is so clutch….

In just three hours, I'd mastered Perang School Dagger Technique. Iron Lion Standard Swordsmanship too, of course. My old amateur sword skill vanished—probably subsumed as a lower tier.

Finally, proper swordsmanship and dagger techniques. Even generic "Swordsmanship" would've been a win, but named skills? Pellelian couldn't even call them trash.

—Damn it, should've killed those humans first. If it was crappy swordplay, it wouldn't even bother with a blade….

Don't worry too much.

—What nonsense is this now!

I'll train magic hard too.

—Tch.

Just admit when you're pleased. What a contrary old coot. But I'd resolved to become a magic swordsman. No need for Pellelian to fret.

"Grroooar…."

Then the chimera snake growled again—wanting to get moving. After barely three hours' rest, it was already whining to leave. My scoldings wouldn't faze it anymore. Truly, this beast was obsessed with marching on the continent.

Nanaruk!

I called her. Regrettably, parting time had come.

Can you climb the gorge?

"What choice do we have? We'll get swept up in the monster wave otherwise."

I'd love Nanaruk along, but I couldn't selfishly hold her back—not with hundreds under her.

Apparently, she'd taken her warriors on a continental expedition, leaving non-combatants in the Great Forest to build the kingdom's foundations, craft potions and weapons. Someday, a red goblin gale might sweep the continent.

"See you again!"

Regret tinged Nanaruk's eyes.

Nanaruk, fist out.

"…Like this?"

She extended her fist. No tail freedom, alas. I headbutted it firmly.

This is our greeting.

"So cool…."

Our friendship's heat could trigger global warming.

—What bullshit.

I ignored Pellelian. Nanaruk hopped off the giant snake's back.

"Alright, let's go!"

The goblins rose. Unprompted, they bowed politely. Some knelt in prayer. My status as Uroboros had risen sharply.

Nanaruk, who'd once plotted to wipe out humans, had softened considerably.

"Hope you humans survive too."

Lania especially brightened. Nanaruk's looks now rivaled fine humans or elves—bound to impress.

"Thank you. The potions too…."

"Not mine anyway."

Nanaruk slyly raised a fist—she'd picked up fist bumps fast. Then bonked Lania's forehead.

Bonk.

"Ow!"

Lania clutched her brow and retreated. Zain and Oliver panicked, but Nanaruk meant it as greeting—she offered her own forehead.

"You too."

"Y-Yes…."

Lania timidly tapped back.

"Groooar!"

The chimera snake finally rose. Other monsters halted their rest. No controlling it now.

Farewell, humans!

We'd spare them.

Hide in the carriage. We'll let you live!

Nanaruk rendered it dignified. Oliver piggybacked Lania into the wreckage.

I'd shoved the carriage between rocks and buried it in earth—hardly visible now. If monsters found it, oh well; I'd done my part.

"Farewell then!"

Nanaruk shouted, and the wave resumed. Soon, the chimera-led tide would engulf the continent. The giant snake roared and set off.

Or it should have. I never expected that.

"Grroooaaarrr!"

Dozens of wooden tendrils shot from the roaring chimera's back. Goblins screamed and fled—but it wasn't after them.

My carefully hidden carriage, sheltering the three humans. Tendrils ensnared it, hoisting the whole thing onto its back like my own kidnapping.

"Groooar!"

Delighted with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠its new toy, the lunatic tree-snake baby. The satisfied chimera bolted anew. The wrecked carriage, vine-bound tight, wouldn't open. Through barred window slits, my eyes met Lania's.

I didn't order this!

But no Nanaruk to translate. Now it was: one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chimera, one white snake, one elf ghost. Three humans. Amidst endless monsters.

All racing through the gorge together.

Gerard Martain. Nicknamed the Tiger Marquis. One of the Eight Heroes.

Was it because Gunter's Iron Lion Knights bore that name? The public painted Gunter Prihansen and Gerard Martain as rivals. Mention it before the marquis, though, and you'd incur his wrath.

Gerard didn't see Gunter as a rival. A rootless commoner, reduced to the royal family's hunting dog. Even his knights were ragtag mercenaries from god-knows-where.

Gerard hailed from the prestigious Martine house. His Holy Light Knights? Sanctioned by the Church of Light—a storied order, as the name implied.

When word arrived of monsters swarming his territory, the marquis donned his armor without hesitation. He mustered soldiers and summoned his full Holy Light Knights. Unchecked, the monster wave would shatter his lands.

No one dared guess the marquis's heart.

Grayrim has already fallen.

Certain. How long since Steel Gunter—his daughter's husband, Grayrim's lord—dragged him to the capital? And now this tragedy.

A cold marquis who ignored his daughter's pleas….

He'd received her letters but hadn't intervened. As the nobility's second-in-command, clashing with the royals was risky. The price? A monster wave.

His daughter, the lord's wife, was surely dead. Granddaughter too.

Preparations complete, the marquis headed straight for the church. The highest-ranking bishop there prepared an oracle.

He strode into the chapel. Already imposingly huge for his sixties, golden plate armor made the central aisle feel cramped. Before a massive sun relief stood the bishop; the marquis halted at the steps.

"Kneel."

Gerard dropped to one knee, tracing the holy sign. The bishop rang a small bell—ding—

"Hear this. To Gerard Martain, lowly servant and captain of the Holy Light Knights, an oracle descends."

Ding—

"Raise your head."

The marquis looked up. For drama, the bishop wreathed himself in holy light's halo.

Ding—

"The knights shall clash with countless monsters."

Obvious—they were visible beyond the horizon.

Ding—

"And shall vanquish the wicked serpent leading them."

The oracle delivered. Gerard rose decisively.

"Jooah!"

His roar shook the chapel—the bishop startled, covering his ears.

"The oracle is given—we triumph!"

"Triumph!"

The lined Holy Light Knights raised swords in unison.

Gerard bellowed unrestrained.

"Chaaarge!"

Mana-laced voice shattered the stained glass.

Crash!

Beneath scattering rainbow shards, the marquis and holy knights marched out.