The Black Knight's Invitation
A presence honed to a razor's edge.
And beneath it, a wavelength Sir Isra knew all too well.
Put those two things together, and the old man standing before me could only be one person.
"Black Knigh—"
"I'd rather you held that next word. I'll even pour you a cup of black tea for your trouble."
Well. That settled it.
One of the Twelve Heroes. Current owner of the sword Sir Isra had once wielded in life—the Bloodstained Longsword of the Fallen Knight.
The hunter known far and wide as the Black Knight, Gerard, let out a booming laugh.
"Keh-heh. You don't seem like any ordinary hunter, lad."
Well, compared to one of the legendary Twelve Heroes, who isn't ordinary?
More to the point—wasn't Sir Gerard supposed to be British? What was he doing in Prague?
I must have worn the question on my face, because he cleared his throat with a low ahem.
"You've got questions written all over you. Best we move somewhere more suitable."
"I have companions with me."
"No trouble at all. We'll invite the whole lot of them."
An invitation from one of the Twelve Heroes? The scale of this was getting completely out of hand.
I whispered a quick heads-up to Manager Baek, who had just caught up. His eyes went round as saucers, cheeks trembling. I nearly screamed myself—but of course the manager kept it together.
"Would that be all right?"
"Ah… yes. It would be an honor."
"You weren't nearly this accommodating with Director Jeong."
Back then he hadn't so much as flinched—a non-awakened man holding his ground, revising terms without a single step back. Director Jeong might sit a notch below the Twelve Heroes in pure fame, but he was still an SS-class hunter. The difference in reaction was night and day.
"Director Jeong Seungil and I already cross paths for work often enough. That was different."
Ah. Fair enough.
And just like that, our Prague sightseeing itinerary slammed into a storm named Black Knight Gerard and veered hard toward an entirely new destination.
A manor on the outskirts of Prague.
The place looked like something out of a film—so grand my jaw dropped on sight.
"My little villa. Make yourselves at home."
"Villa?"
"You said you were here as tourists. This will beat any hotel in the city, I assure you."
Hard to argue. Immaculate gardens, a mansion fit for royalty. Every place we'd stayed on this European trip had been excellent, but compared to Gerard's villa they all fell a step short.
Hope Manager Baek's feelings aren't hurt…
"We're grateful to be allowed to stay somewhere so magnificent."
Fortunately, the manager showed no sign of wounded pride.
"Allow us to take your luggage."
"Thank you."
The hired staff even carried our bags for us.
"Ah—this carrier's fine. I'll keep it."
The subspace carrier linked to the Death Blacksmith stayed with me, of course.
We each settled lightly into the rooms we'd been assigned, then were shown into the reception hall.
Black Knight Gerard had dialed his trademark razor-edged presence down a notch. He extended a hand.
"A gentleman introduces himself properly. Name's Gerard."
"Park Minho. Sir Gerard."
"Call me Sir rather than Hero, if you would. I prefer it."
Sir. A certain someone else's preferred title sprang to mind.
A gleam lit Gerard's eyes.
"Ho-ho. So the Executioner's chosen rookie is you, is it?"
"You know Director Jeong?"
"Know him? Half the reason I ever learned Korean is that man."
Longtime comrades and friends, apparently.
"And the other half?"
"My daughter was mad for Korean dramas. Begged me to watch with her until my ears rang."
"Ah… I see."
"Know which one left the deepest mark? Truly—there was one you simply couldn't watch without tears."
While we traded small talk and icebreakers, the rest of the party—shown to other rooms—filtered into the reception hall one by one.
"Looks like all the guests are here. Time for hospitality."
Gerard clapped once. A servant approached at once.
"Nine cups of black tea, if you would."
…Tea?
The dismay on my face must have been crystal clear.
"Didn't I say earlier? I'd pour you black tea."
"H-haha…"
"For health and beauty, one ought to take a cup after meals."
We haven't even had dinner yet.
As invited guests, though, a roundabout refusal felt impossible. No choice. Drink it was.
A clear, carefully steeped liquor of tea leaves was set upon the table. Manager Baek inhaled the aroma and smiled.
"Excellent leaves."
"Now, now. Let me show you the proper way to enjoy it."
Gerard slammed milk into his cup with frankly violent gusto and stirred like a man possessed.
Ugh. The tea was clouding over. The visual alone was pure brutality—exactly how I'd imagine some dark alchemy looking.
"Milk tea, we call it. Drink up, all of you."
The look in his eye said that anyone who didn't add milk would have it poured and stirred for them. I copied what I'd seen, added milk, stirred, and took a careful sip.
"Huh?"
It was… actually pretty good. The tea's natural bitterness, the milk's richness, and the sugar's sweetness balanced surprisingly well. If milk tea always tasted like this, I wouldn't mind having it again.
"Mmm."
The others didn't seem to share my opinion. Manager Baek was clenching his jaw, fighting to keep his expression under control. This was the man who had held a perfect poker face in front of Director Jeong Seungil—and a cup of milk tea had cracked him.
"Looks as though our next SS-class hunter rather likes milk tea."
"You're too kind. Director Jeong simply thinks too highly of me."
"You don't know how cold that man can be. He never offers empty praise."
Ugh. Hearing "next SS-class" from one of the Twelve Heroes was almost too much honor to bear.
"Your summons don't seem ordinary either."
My two retainers, who had been examining their milk tea from every angle, finally looked up.
"I am Isra, Greatest Sword of the Continent."
"This maiden is Ingrid, the Witch of the Solar Eclipse."
Had they ever introduced themselves this grandly to anyone but me? Well… not never. They'd done something similar during the support-team training observation. Still, saying it to an SS-class hunter at the absolute pinnacle of the industry carried a whole different weight.
"I heard you were a B-class necromancer. Yet you command summons of this caliber?"
"I got lucky."
"Ho-ho-ho. These old eyes see clearly enough."
Gerard laughed heartily.
"Their vessels are simply too small to hold their full power yet. In raw strength, neither of them falls short of any of the Twelve Heroes."
"You have a discerning eye. The title of knight suits you."
Sir Isra… He's one of the Twelve Heroes. A little respect wouldn't kill you.
"My master will soon make me stronger still, so there is no cause for concern."
Ingrid, at least, was a bit more measured. Thankfully.
Gerard burst into delighted laughter.
"Ho-ho-ho-ho! With a hunter of such promise among us, the future looks bright indeed."
"H-haha…"
As long as he wasn't offended, fine by me. Between him and Director Jeong, I was sitting across from living history—names that never left the middle-school textbooks. My nerves were fraying.
Hooo…
"So what brings you to Prague?"
"Hunter Park came to challenge the Tower of Chaos, so we made a sightseeing trip of it."
Manager Baek answered for me.
"Ah, so you're this lad's spokesman."
"Yes. Baek Seonghyeon, Sir Gerard."
"You seem sharp. Look after him well for me."
"Thank you."
"The Tower of Chaos, you say?"
"He cleared the fiftieth floor."
A proud smile curved Manager Baek's lips. He was happier about it than if it had been his own achievement. I was genuinely grateful.
"The fiftieth floor… the fiftieth floor…"
Gerard murmured the words a few times over.
Then—
"The fiftieth floooooor!?!!"
—he roared, mana laced through the cry. The thunderous voice shook the entire villa. Windowpanes rattled; the milk tea in our cups trembled and sent out little ripples.
D-did you not watch the news? We've been touring Europe; the articles were everywhere…
Saying that out loud would have been mortifying, so I kept quiet.
"Hah. I've been buried in other business and missed the recent news. Seems a major event slipped right past me."
"Ah-ahaha… so it seems."
"I was wondering when that girl Sophia's record would finally fall."
Gerard took an elegant sip of his milk tea.
"I never imagined anyone would clear it entirely. Remarkable!"
"You're familiar with the Tower of Chaos?"
"I paid it a visit in my youth. Stopped challenging past the fortieth floor."
A regretful look crossed his face.
"Had I prepared more thoroughly, I might have climbed higher."
"I'm sure you would have."
"Ho-ho. Even so, the fiftieth would have been beyond me—not with the strength I had as a B-class."
"This is the lord I serve. He is not like you."
"He is this maiden's master as well."
Ugh. I get that your loyalty is impressive. You don't have to keep emphasizing it.
"Keh-heh! Excellent. Truly excellent."
Gerard laughed with genuine gusto. He could easily have taken offense—yet I felt nothing but sincere joy for a complete stranger's achievement. It was touching and baffling in equal measure.
"Surprised that an old man can be so delighted by a first meeting's news?"
"Ah… yes."
Yikes. Was it that obvious on my face?
"A hunter recognized by my old comrade-in-arms can hardly be called a total stranger, can he?"
"I… suppose not."
"Ho-ho. Then I ought to tell you how the Executioner and this old man first became acquainted."
What followed was Gerard's story.
At first it was fascinating—how one of the Twelve Heroes met Korea's own living legend. Real history you couldn't buy for any fortune.
…Or so I thought, for about an hour.
"And then—eh? That Jeong Seungil fellow threw a complete fit, claiming milk tea was a desecration of proper tea!"
"Ah-ahaha… is that so."
"Honestly. Black tea is the soul of Britain! Such insults simply won't do!"
"H-haha… haha…"
The story was long. Too long. Minute old anecdotes, contemporary impressions, personal backstories—everything poured out in a steady stream. The support-team kids were fighting not to yawn. Even Manager Baek had retreated behind his professional sales face.
"And right there, I told that rascal…"
No. No more.
If this story stretched any further—my mental stamina was already at zero!
Think. I had to invent some way out of this burial under ancient reminiscence. Otherwise I was going to die under the sheer weight of that magnificent explanation!!
"Elder—"
"Call me Sir Gerard."
"You're originally from Britain, aren't you, Sir?"
"Indeed. The empire on which the sun never set! That great nation is my homeland."
I know it was the kind of country that stabbed enough other countries that the sun literally never set, but we don't need to light that particular fuse just to change the subject.
"I asked earlier, but—why are you in Prague?"
"I stop by often to see my old friend Alfons. That's why I keep a villa here."
"The founder of the Clock Tower, you mean?"
"The very one. He shows off so much that no one but this old man will keep him company anymore."
Too Much Information versus chronic bragging. My heart was pounding so hard it felt ready to burst.
"Ah—why don't you come along as well?"
Who, me?
I blinked blankly, struggling to process Gerard's words.
"Alfons has been boasting about the disciple he took in his later years until my ears are raw."
"But why me?"
"I haven't taken a disciple of my own in recent years. So why not let you fill the role for a bit?"
Sir Gerard smiled, eyes crinkling with quiet amusement.