Chapter 366: Bread and Dagger (64)
Chapter 366: Bread and Dagger (64)
It was Senior Delphine’s armor.
Sir Alex’s armor seemed to possess similar functions. His hands trembled violently as he managed to strip away the mangled plates.
Once the armor that had been twisting his bones was removed, he seemed to regain a modicum of movement.
His wrinkled hand fumbled inside his tunic until it finally produced a potion.
I was still groaning from the aftermath of his successful surprise attack. Though I managed to stagger to my feet before long, Sir Alex had already finished his emergency treatment.
The empty potion bottle was tossed onto the snowfield.
White steam began to rise from Sir Alex’s body. His frame, previously hidden by the armor, looked robust—almost impossibly so for an old man.
Between ragged gasps, he spoke.
“I told you… armor isn't just for decoration.”
“…Sir Alex, if you push yourself any further, you’ll die.”
I warned him, steadying my own swaying body.
I didn't have many moves left either.
The accumulated damage I had taken was significant. With the Saintess absent, I couldn't guarantee what would happen if I sustained any injuries worse than this.
Yet, Sir Alex showed no sign of hesitation.
“Haha! That sounds wonderful… To have this wretched life ended by an opponent like you, Young Master? Besides, in the North, by the time you say ‘I’m going to die,’ it’s already too late.”
With those words, Sir Alex drew a dagger from the belt across his chest. It was a sub-weapon, kept for unforeseen circumstances.
His preparation was truly that of an elite who had survived countless battles.
In the end, I had no choice but to squeeze my eyes shut.
“You should say… ‘I’m going to kill’!”
The old knight lunged at me once more.
Blood-red Aura dripped from his dagger. It was then that my eyes snapped open.
My pupils were slit vertically.
Before the old knight could even register the change, blood-colored characters were etched into the air.
The world bleeds.
Blazing flames converged toward that wound in reality. In that split second, Sir Alex’s dagger finally reached me.
Accompanied by a spectacular explosion.
Boom! A thunderous roar erupted as flames scorched the snowfield. The sight of snow and moss evaporating instantly felt surreal.
No human could remain unscathed after taking such a hit head-on.
Without even a scream, the old knight’s body was sent flying through the air. He tumbled several times before the flames consuming his body finally flickered out.
That was the end.
Along with the flames of death, the spark of his life was fading. Sir Alex’s body began to twitch with faint tremors.
He was beyond recovery.
Feeling a searing pain in my eyes, I began to walk.
Crunch, crunch. My footsteps led me right in front of Sir Alex.
The old knight lay prone, barely clinging to his breath.
To anyone’s eyes, he was on the verge of death.
“Heh… heh-heh… Dra… Dragon Blood Runes….”
The man squeezed out a laugh with the last of his strength.
His arms shook as he tried to push himself up one last time. How could he not resent a body that refused to listen?
Such was the desperate end of a knight.
“Finally… the Imperial Household has noticed… Ah, Yurdina….”
With those final words, his breath stopped.
I looked down at the corpse that had just met its end, then turned my gaze toward the sky.
Snowflakes were still fluttering down over the field. My pale breath scattered along with the snow.
Everyone’s eyes were fixed on me.
The Elves and the soldiers alike could not tear their eyes or ears away from me for a long time.
They would be the witnesses to my crime.
I had committed murder.
And I had done it for the Elves.
This was my choice.
The arrival of a messenger brought good news to Yurdina Castle.
Alex, who had been leading the search for the missing person alone, had found Ian.
As soon as he realized this, the messenger had sprinted all day to reach the castle. He hadn't even heard the full details.
He was the same soldier Alex had sent out initially.
Therefore, the messenger knew nothing of what happened afterward. He only remembered the sound of the Elves wailing.
Ian Percus had lost his memory.
It was a great relief that he had been found early. Though amnesia was a rare symptom, surely he would improve once he was back in the arms of the comrades who had crossed the line of death with him.
Of course, there were those who welcomed the news more than anyone else.
The Saintess and Elsie, the Princess and Emma.
They were Ian’s women.
Without delay, they organized a small force and followed the messenger. There had been no further word from Alex since then, but they simply assumed there were circumstances keeping him.
Alex and the soldiers following him were rich in combat experience.
The Elves were no match for them. They likely expected that he was simply focusing on Ian’s treatment in the Elf village.
That was why they couldn't say a word the moment they arrived at the village.
There was no sign of life.
They saw burnt huts and broken weapons. It looked as though the warmth of the living had been missing for a long time.
However, they found traces soon enough.
Mounds of earth made of snow.
Weapons were thrust into each one.
Spears, swords, and greatswords.
Silence descended upon the group.
"…Could they be Elven graves?"
It was a foolish question.
But no one dared to challenge the Princess’s words.
Because they, too, were desperately hoping that was the case.
Even though they knew the Elves lacked the ability to forge metal weapons, they couldn't control the thoughts flooding their minds.
A faint laugh escaped from among the women.
It was Elsie. She had her dainty hand pressed against her forehead, letting out a series of giggles.
As if the situation were truly absurd.
"No, I mean, what’s the point of making graves for things like Elves? Honestly, everyone is so soft-hearted… Now then, where is our Master?"
She asked with a bright smile, but no answer came.
Even so, Elsie didn't wipe the smile from her face.
The corners of her mouth were twitching. Before long, her blue eyes turned cold and sunken.
A voice thick with condensed emotions flowed out.
"Where is our Master? Find him… Find him right now!"
At her paroxysmal command, the soldiers hurriedly began to prepare.
It seemed they intended to start the search immediately. However, there was a problem that needed to be addressed first.
"…Dig them up."
When two conflicting orders were given, the soldiers began to glance around cautiously.
Elsie bit her lip and glared at the one who had given the second command.
It was Yuren.
He was almost the only one present who maintained his composure.
"Let’s dig up all these mounds."
"Hey, Escort Knight. Didn't you hear me? Find Master first—!"
"Senior Elsie, stop playing the fool."
It was a remark that could have been taken as a taunt.
However, its effect was excellent. Elsie’s fiery momentum died down instantly.
Elsie could only gnaw on her lip.
Finding no suitable rebuttal, she simply snorted with a huffy expression and turned her head away.
She was trying to hide it, but it was obvious.
Elsie was afraid. Afraid of confirming the truth.
And that fear soon returned as a physical reality.
Inside the excavated graves lay frozen corpses.
It was Alex and the soldiers.
Seria’s body collapsed as she saw the corpse of the loyal retainer she had known since childhood. Sinking to the ground, she covered her mouth, letting out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a sob.
"Ah, ah… S-Sir Alex? Why…?"
Who was Alex?
He was a man recognized by all as a loyalist of Yurdina, a knight so deeply trusted by Marquis Yurdina that he was entrusted with military authority.
His courage, which had never faltered on any battlefield for decades, was praised as a paragon for all Northerners.
And yet, he was dead.
Few Northerners would not be shocked by that fact. The wide-eyed stares of the soldiers alone proved it.
However, there was another truth that was even more shocking.
One of the soldiers examining the bodies shouted.
"A-A last will! There’s a message left here! It looks like it was written just before death…."
Before he could even finish, the crowd rushed over.
There, indeed, was a message that seemed to have been left in his final moments.
A short sentence written in blood upon the frozen earth.
It had already dried and turned dark, but upon closer inspection, it was still legible.
A soldier began to read the writing carefully.
"Let’s see… I… Ian? Ah! Ian Percus has…."
But the reading could not continue to the end.
The sound of someone swallowing hard echoed through the silence.
The soldier hurriedly checked his surroundings. But everyone’s eyes were already fixed on the writing; the milk was already spilled.
In the end, the soldier squeezed his eyes shut and stammered out the rest of the message.
"I-Ian Percus has…."
"Betrayed humanity."
A voice spoke the words blankly.
Everyone’s eyes turned toward the source. There stood a woman with silver hair.
"This can't be…."
She stood there with a face paler than anyone else’s.
Because it was too hard to accept the fact that the man who had lost his memory had become the enemy.
Misunderstandings piled up like snow, and the story was racing toward its finale.