Benellia's Flying Sword
html, body { margin:0; padding:0; } Starring: Derek Walker 2
I turned my gaze toward the voice that had risen in pitch. As the unfriendly tone suggested, the atmosphere they exuded was fiercely menacing.
There were about ten of them.
All riding black horses, their faces shrouded in black robes. Their builds were so similar that the only way to distinguish them was by voice. Only the man at the front had spoken.
"You foolish country wench! Did you really think you could escape us? What a utterly idiotic notion. If there's even a shred of noble pride left in you, come out and face the blade!"
The black-robed figures began surrounding the carriage. The coachman, his face blank with shock, barely regained his senses and bellowed at the robed men.
"Y-you bastards! Get lost! This lady is no prey for cowardly assassins!"
"Ha! Harboring the second daughter of a traitorous house? Is this what misguided loyalty looks like?"
"Treason? The Benellia family has never plotted treason even once!"
"This isn't for a lowly servant like you to debate. Scram."
The robed man's sword swung. Mana surged from his blade in a sword aura, slicing the coachman's waist clean through.
"Kuhk!"
The coachman's upper and lower body separated, collapsing to the ground. Even before his forehead hit the dirt, his face was etched with utter anguish.
I had no idea who that robed guy was, but the situation was clear enough from their conversation alone. It was like the coachman and the robe had personally explained it for my benefit.
For starters, the person in that carriage was the second daughter of the Benellia noble family.
Benellia. A name I didn't recall. Probably not a major player in the original story.
The Benellia noble family had apparently plotted treason against the Dove Kingdom, and these black-robed guys seemed to be handling the cleanup. Assuming their claims were true, anyway.
You can't get anywhere near the truth by taking one side's word at face value. I couldn't be sure if the Benellia family had actually rebelled against Dove Kingdom.
Honestly, none of that mattered to me.
The person in that carriage was the Benellia family's second daughter.
What I was curious about right now was that second daughter's looks. Depending on her appearance, I could end up as the prince on a white horse—or just some random passerby.
"No more places to run! Come out, you traitor bitch!"
The black-robed men drew their swords, encircling the carriage and radiating murderous intent. They looked ready to smash the door and drag her out any second.
But before they could, the carriage door swung open. Heart pounding, I fixed my eyes on the figure emerging.
Nice!
The woman who stepped out was a green-haired girl. She looked late teens. Her skin had a healthy glow, and her slender figure caught my eye immediately.
Height around mid-160s, but her proportions were killer. Model material, no question. Her noble poise as she descended the carriage was flawless.
Small chest was a minor drawback, but she might be hiding some power under that corset—who knew? Besides, flat or not, I wasn't one to be picky.
The green-haired lady of Benellia didn't flinch under the robed men's threatening blades and hostility. Or rather, she was desperately acting like she didn't. The faint tremble in her left hand betrayed her agitation.
"What is the meaning of this?"
A stiff, sharp voice burst from the lady's lips, laced with barely concealed fear—like a hedgehog bristling at a predator. The black-robed men just laughed uproariously in response.
"What is the meaning of this? Even the scholarly Benellia family fails at raising kids, huh."
"Insulting the Benellia family can't be atoned for by ripping out your tongue. Realize the weight of your words."
"Hahaha! That's more like it. As the daughter of Dove Kingdom's most renowned ink-stained scholars, that's how you should be. Quite the sight, flapping your tongue with a blade at your throat."
The apparent leader of the group doffed his robe hood. Underneath was a bald uncle with his face scarred to hell.
Fuck, what a letdown.
"Benellia whelp. Accept the grave sin of plotting to overthrow our Dove Kingdom, which has penned five centuries of glory and tradition. Your death will restore the kingdom's laws and order."
"This is slander! The Benellia family has faithfully served the kingdom unchanged for five hundred years! How dare you frame us like this!?"
"Frame? The evidence is plain for all the world to see, yet you insist it's a frame? Savage denial from the face-saving Benellias."
"Framing loyal vassals for power? Aren't you afraid of heaven's wrath!?"
"Shameless bitch. Aren't you the one due for heaven's judgment? Filthy traitor spawn like you yapping from that loose mouth! Enough chatter!"
The man raised his sword. The Benellia lady's body buckled. Legs giving out from the shock, probably.
Despair filled her tightly shut eyes. Time for the white knight to step in.
"Stop!"
Astride Poseidon, I bellowed confidently before the black-robed men. Their gazes naturally shifted to me. Even the bald fuck about to swing froze and looked my way.
"Who the hell are you? Benellia lackey?"
The sword aimed at the Benellia lady now pointed at me. The killing intent in it sharpened. Well, yeah—I was the white knight on a steed, after all.
"First orc on a warhorse I've ever seen."
"Poor horse..."
"Keeping an orc as a subordinate? Guess the Benellia treason rumors are true."
"Yeah. I thought it was the second prince's frame job, but looks like it was real."
The robed men's sudden outsider rattled them pretty good. The Benellia lady, eyes squeezed shut awaiting death, couldn't hide her shock at my arrival either.
"L-Lord Ryud!"
She suddenly shouted that.
I wasn't this Ryud guy.
"A Benellia lackey after all. Kuhaha! They knighted this pathetic lump? Like family, like knight."
The bald fuck said that.
I got the lady's intent. She was pulling me into her camp with quick thinking. Smart girl.
Earlier, this bald prick had mocked the "wise Benellias" or whatever. Seeing the lady now, I understood the title.
"Milady! Your house knight Ryud has come racing to save you!"
At my words, a few robed men spoke up tensely.
"No way—that's Ryud Hende!? Benellia's fastest blade."
"Nah, that's Surgeon Ryut's nickname. Ryud's the Flying Sword of Benellia."
"Same difference, right? The quicksword master anyway?"
"Shit, doesn't that put us in danger...? Heard he's a sword expert high-rank."
The bald prick's face soured as he overheard his men's murmurs.
Sword expert probably hit a nerve. From how he'd sliced the coachman like tofu, the bald fuck seemed peak sword user level.
"Tch! That orc-lookin' slob a sword expert!? Bullshit! Lies! That vicious Benellia bitch is bluffing to escape!"
The bald prick wasn't dumb. His words eased his men's relieved mutters.
"Figures. No way that guy's a sword expert."
"Benellia's Flying Sword left five years ago anyway. Said he'd guard his lover's grave."
"Phew~ Thought we had a real sword expert."
With public opinion flipping, cold sweat beaded on the Benellia lady's forehead.
Bluffing only works with good poker face, but she lacked real-world experience—her acting was a bit off.
"N-no! He's definitely Lord Ryud, Onyx's Glory and Benellia's Flying Sword! He's just... gained a bit from vacation!"
I nodded at the lady's words. Time to play along. Might score some points.
"Milady's right. Snow sugar from Walker Merchant sells so damn good, I packed on a few. Only 1 gold, powdered for easy carry too. I'm definitely Ryut."
"Huh? Ryut's the surgeon, right?"
"It's Ryud, you deaf fuck! Milady! This Ryud will save you!"
I thumped my chest. The bald prick channeled mana into his raised sword and roared.
"Fool! Think that act fools anyone!? Whoever you are, aiding traitors makes you one too. Rotten rope you grabbed—die!"
The bald prick yanked the reins, charging me without a hint of fear. Full mounted assault.
He thought I was bullshitting. Which I was.
But from his view, truth would've been worse. No clue who Ryud was, but he didn't seem stronger than me.
"Holy Missile."
Pfiu!
I fired a barrage of light projectiles at his recklessly charging horse. The holy missiles grazed the black horse's legs. The beast tumbled, unseating him.
"B-boss!"
"What? Benellia's fastest blade!? Thought he was a swordsman?"
"Told ya, that's Surgeon Ryut. Benellia's Flying Sword."
"Fastest or flying, nickname says sword. That guy's a mage?"
The sudden magic threw them off hard. But the bald prick scrambled up quick.
"Kgh! Tch! Surround him! Mages are weak up close!"
"Such harsh words."
Guys yapping without knowing shit deserved a lesson in the gap.
I activated Holy Gauntlet and charged the bald prick. My plump body was fast as a hummingbird thanks to sky-high strength and agility—sharp and swift closing the distance.
"How's he this fast!?"
I thrust my fist straight ahead. No need for KHC against this scrub.
He tried blocking with his sword, but my overwhelming speed smashed his face before he could.
Thwack!
"Guhk!"
Holy Gauntlet sent him tumbling hard. He must've bitten his tongue wrong—a chunk flew through the air.
"Insulting Benellia can't be atoned by cutting your tongue! Die!"
I unilaterally beat the shit out of the bald prick. His minions were too awed to approach.
Five minutes later, both his arms and legs were shattered, and only two teeth remained.