Transition (Part 1 Finale)
The order came down without ceremony.
“Transport him.”
The festival was over. All that remained was the grim cleanup of the battlefield and the reckoning for every life sacrificed.
Behemoth’s neck had been severed cleanly by Maxim’s final strike. On the last ridge before the kingdom’s fall, the monster’s vengeance had been thwarted. The moment its head hit the ground, the chains of light that had bound it vanished. Its colossal body collapsed like a falling mountain, carving a second peak into the canyon floor.
The soldiers had no time to process the aftershocks of battle. They immediately began clearing the ruined battlefield.
“It feels like a dream.”
“I don’t even know what just happened.”
Who had died? How? The soldiers didn’t want to remember the faces of the fallen. The corpses scattered across the ground wore familiar features, but the men refused to acknowledge them.
“That one…”
The setting sun cast long shadows across the canyon, and Behemoth’s massive carcass created an enormous pool of darkness. The soldiers’ eyes were fixed on the brown-haired knight collapsed beneath it—an unknown figure.
“He was wearing the emblem of the Raven Knight Order.”
“He was talking with Commander Theodora. Must be someone she knows.”
Two shadows approached the fallen knight.
“Maxim…”
Paola frowned as she looked down at him. Maxim lay motionless, coughing up dark clots of blood. He looked as if his life had already fled. Medics had rushed over to check his condition, but most of them wore expressions of helpless panic. At least he wasn’t dead yet. That was something. If left like this, though, he soon would be.
“How the hell did he end up in this state?”
Paola herself was utterly exhausted. She hadn’t faced Behemoth directly, but she had fought wave after wave of monsters surging from below. Every joint ached, and her limbs felt ready to snap. She let out a long sigh and glared at the person beside her.
“…So he really did take down Behemoth.”
Roberto Miller. He had certainly been fighting monsters on the front lines, but what exactly he had been doing remained unclear. Unlike Paola, who looked completely drained, Roberto still carried an air of composure.
“I’ll take Maxim back with me. You look dead on your feet, sir. Go rest.”
Roberto spoke casually as he walked over. Paola watched him with narrowed eyes, her brows furrowed in clear displeasure. He seemed exactly like his usual self. The unease she felt was probably just her nerves, still raw and hypersensitive after the battle. Repeating that to herself, Paola turned away.
“…Fine. Bring him back.”
Roberto stood still, watching Paola’s retreating figure. He clenched and unclenched his fist repeatedly.
“Well then…”
He turned his gaze. The medics were frantically checking Maxim’s pulse and breathing. Of course, Roberto didn’t need any of those checks. He knew perfectly well that Maxim was still alive.
“Hurry, bring a stretcher!”
“Prepare to move him to the casualty ward!”
Roberto narrowed his eyes as he stared at the collapsed knight. He hadn’t expected things to go this far. The aura Maxim had unleashed had been far stronger than anticipated. So he had burned everything, thinking it was his final blaze.
“A miscalculation? Or a pleasant misjudgment? I suppose I should commend the Count’s foresight.”
Roberto muttered the words as if speaking directly to Maxim.
“Over here! Bring it!”
“On three, lift!”
The medics brought the stretcher. They carefully lifted Maxim’s limp, strengthless body onto it. Roberto changed his expression and approached the soldiers.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
The soldiers tilted their heads at the unfamiliar knight who had greeted them. Once they confirmed the emblem on his armor matched Maxim’s—marking him as a member of the Raven Knight Order—they stepped aside.
“Could you help me carry this friend to the place I indicate?”
The soldiers saw no reason to suspect him. They simply followed Roberto as he led the way, carrying Maxim on the stretcher. The battlefield was in chaos. Wounded were being moved, corpses collected. Stretchers covered with rough cloth passed by. The monsters’ bodies were already rotting under the sun, filling the entire mountain range with a sickening stench.
The place Roberto reached was the rear staging area where horses and wagons waited to transport the wounded and messengers. He lowered the ramp of one of the transport wagons and gestured for them to load Maxim inside. The soldiers hesitated briefly before setting the stretcher down and lifting Maxim into the wagon.
“…Sir Knight, are you certain this is the right place…?”
One soldier asked cautiously. Roberto nodded. Another medic glanced around nervously before speaking again.
“Shouldn’t he be taken to the casualty ward first…?”
Roberto simply stared at the questioning soldier in silence. The man opened his mouth to say more, but the moment their eyes met, he shut it immediately.
“…Never mind. Sorry for speaking out of turn.”
“No, no. At this point, Maxim can’t be properly treated here anyway. It’s better to send him to the rear as quickly as possible.”
Then another soldier asked carefully.
“What about Commander Theodora Benning…?”
The other soldiers immediately elbowed the questioner, as if to say stop asking.
“Idiot, you know the Commander was already taken away. Why do you keep poking your nose in like that?”
“I was just—”
Roberto waved his hand at the flustered medics, dismissing them.
“You’ve done well. Now go help move the other wounded.”
They left with uneasy expressions, carrying the now-empty stretcher. Roberto watched them go and let out a dry chuckle.
“…Yes. It’s better for you not to know.”
The driver wore a deep hood. He briefly lifted it to confirm that his passenger had arrived safely.
“You’re earlier than expected.”
“The longer we drag this out, the harder it’ll be to slip away.”
Roberto glanced around once more before climbing into the transport wagon. The interior, covered with a canopy like a caravan, was far too spacious for just two people. He knocked on the grated window that connected to the driver’s seat. The wagon lurched forward, heading toward Murat.
The sound of shattering glass echoed as the chains of light collapsed.
The moment the golden aura flickered and Behemoth’s head fell, the mages who had been maintaining the spell all cried out in triumph and collapsed where they stood.
"We did it..."
"Who was that? There wasn’t a single knight left who could fight properly."
The mages began speculating about the owner of that aura.
Amidst the chaos, Christine fixed her trembling green eyes on the spot where Behemoth had lost its head.
"Senior..."
She had used nearly all the mana she had recovered. Yet Christine could not remain seated. She rose unsteadily.
“Why…”
She could only repeat the same words over and over.
That light. She had seen it only once, but she would never forget it. The golden aura that had flickered after slicing through the Deathworm beneath the cliff. Even from this distance, Christine could recall the brilliance of that aura.
“I told you that you would regret it.”
A cold voice reached Christine as she stood. It was the tone of someone who had known from the beginning that things would turn out this way. Christine didn’t bother replying. She kicked off the ground and ran. Behind her came the professor’s cackling laughter.
“You’d better run, Christine.”
The professor’s words no longer registered. She had already left the cluster of mages and was racing down toward the canyon floor.
Senior.
Thanks to Maxim, they had been able to kill Behemoth. If he hadn’t come, the monster would have slaughtered every knight and soldier here and turned Murat into ruins.
Even so. Even so.
If that victory had been bought with his life—
Christine bit her lip hard.
Maxim must have collapsed after felling Behemoth. If she didn’t hurry and do something—
“Vice Commander!”
Christine snapped out of her thoughts at the shout. Paola was gripping her wrist.
“…Sir Paola? Let go…! My senior—!”
Paola inwardly sighed at the sight of Christine’s eyes, wild with confusion. Would she even listen?
She held the struggling woman firmly and spoke.
“Wait. Just wait. Calm down. Roberto is bringing Maxim. There’s no need to worry so much—”
Christine suddenly stopped thrashing and stared at Paola. Her hair was disheveled by the wind, making her look half-mad.
“…What do you mean?”
Paola finally released Christine’s arm now that she was listening.
“Exactly what I said. Roberto and the medics should be transporting the collapsed Maxim right now, so—”
“Where is Roberto right now?!”
Christine’s voice grew even more urgent as she pressed Paola.
“He hasn’t… returned yet…”
Paola’s expression hardened as well. Roberto had volunteered to take Maxim, and Christine looked far too desperate. She lowered her voice, realizing something was very wrong.
“What’s going on, Vice Commander?”
“We have to find Senior right now… hurry! I’m sorry, but there’s no time to explain.”
“…I’ll check the casualty ward.”
Christine nodded and turned toward the transport area. The staging ground was chaotic with wagons carrying the dead and wounded. She scanned her surroundings frantically, searching for any wagon that might hold Maxim.
“Mage, what brings you here…”
Christine turned to the medic who had spoken to her.
“Has anyone from the Raven Knight Order come through here?”
The medic looked at her uniform and nodded slowly. He must have recognized both her attire and her desperate expression before approaching.
“…Yes, they did.”
“Where are they now?!”
Christine nearly screamed the question. The soldier pointed to where the transport wagon had been parked.
“A knight in armor with that same emblem loaded an injured man onto a transport wagon. He said the condition was critical and it would be better to send him to the rear immediately…”
“When did they leave?”
The soldier hesitated, then added, “About thirty minutes ago. They should just be leaving Murat by now…”
Christine’s face twisted. She mounted a horse that had been grazing nearby, still saddled.
“Where are you going?!”
The medic called out in alarm, but Christine snapped the reins and galloped away. Dust rose behind her as the medic stared blankly at her retreating figure.
The mountain range, once thick with conifers, had gradually given way to short grass and scattered broadleaf trees. The livestock grazing here seemed unaware of the war that had raged nearby; they simply chewed grass and lowed softly. A single wagon rolled at a moderate pace along the dirt path between them, leaving clear wheel tracks in its wake.
The terrain was descending. The single road had branched into several paths, but the only one wide enough for a transport wagon was the one running alongside the cliff.
Roberto spoke to the driver through the grate.
“What’s the situation in the capital? Has the Count entered the city?”
The driver’s eyes flicked toward him.
“When I left, everything was proceeding according to plan. The Benning family’s troops have replaced the capital’s guards, and the mages from the Magic Tower are cooperating as well.”
“…Good.”
Roberto murmured. The days of moving like a puppet, simply following Count Benning’s orders, were finally coming to an end.
“And the Second Prince?”
“An official announcement of succession should be made soon. At this point, it will be difficult to ignore the visible power of our house.”
There was only one lingering concern. The Royal Palace’s Guard Knights. Roberto’s eyes grew cold.
“…What about them? The Royal Guard.”
“No word yet. However… it seems the Count and Baron Bourdin have made preparations.”
The wagon jolted violently. Roberto frowned, pulled from his thoughts.
“What was that?”
“Probably just a wheel hitting a rock. Nothing serious, so you needn’t worry—”
The wagon shook again, harder this time. Even the driver stopped talking and began slowing the horses to see what had happened. If the horses panicked, the wagon could plunge into the lake at the bottom of the cliff.
“What the—”
The moment the wagon came to a stop, magic activated.
“Crazy!”
Chains of light wrapped around the wagon. The horses pulling it froze in place. A mage descended in front of them.
Roberto stepped out of the wagon and walked forward. His expression was the same as always, wearing that effortless smile.
“…Vice Commander, what brings you all the way out here?”
Christine said nothing. She held the spell steady, her eyes asking the question instead.
“…Well, I really didn’t want to fight again.”
Roberto let out a resigned laugh. He drew the sword at his waist, and that casual smile twisted into a cold, icy sneer.
“We’re both short on time, so let’s finish this quickly.”
Darkness was staining his vision. His consciousness felt less like it had sunk into a deep sea and more like it was drifting through an empty sky. Fragments of memory remained here and there, but they were all shattered like wreckage from a shipwreck, floating aimlessly.
He couldn’t get up. Maxim felt as if his entire body were bound in shackles as he looked around. It was pitch black. It felt like he was lying inside some kind of tent.
The problem was his memory. He was empty. His memories were being eaten away, disappearing little by little. From the oldest recollections to the most recent, they were fading like ink dissolving in water.
“No…”
Maxim desperately tried to sit up.
I am Maxim Apparte. First, he remembered his own name.
The cursed knight. The Raven Knight Order. To defeat the monster of No Man’s Land, Behemoth…
Behemoth. Yes, he had defeated it. He had unleashed his aura and brought down the bound monster.
“Cough.”
Maxim spat out another mouthful of blood. He staggered to his feet.
He had defeated Behemoth, so why was he here—
Boom.
The ground shook as if an earthquake had struck. Maxim finally saw his surroundings clearly.
“What’s happening?”
He stepped down from the wagon. The tremors grew even more violent.
“…A duel?”
A very familiar wave of power washed over him. Sensing something ominous, Maxim walked to the front of the wagon.
“You didn’t really think that was my full strength back then, did you, Vice Commander?”
A voice rang out.
“If you rushed in believing that, it was an incredibly naive and foolish decision. You’ve used up almost all your mana, and what little remained you wasted holding that wagon in place. Even in a battle where your life is on the line, this is how it ends.”
It was a familiar voice. Roberto. Maxim barely managed to recall the name.
“Roberto?”
Maxim spoke in a cracked voice.
“The Count valued your worth highly enough to spare your life… but this seems rather excessive, doesn’t it?”
The Count? Before Maxim could even process the meaning of those words—
Shuk.
A horrifying metallic sound reverberated all the way to the base of his skull.
“Ah.”
Roberto had his hand outstretched. In it was a single sword. The blade, not even radiating aura, had pierced straight through someone’s chest.
“…Ah…”
She was falling. Like autumn leaves fluttering down to the ground, Christine’s body collapsed.
Maxim staggered toward her. Her small frame landed in his arms. She was impossibly light. Blood poured endlessly from the wound in her chest. Maxim fumbled desperately, trying to staunch the bleeding.
Roberto watched the scene in silence.
“S… Senior…”
“Don’t speak.”
Even now, his memories were being erased without mercy. All Maxim could do was cling desperately to the fragments, refusing to let them take away the memories of the person he held in his arms.
The blood was warm. The green eyes looking up at him were beginning to wither. Maxim continued pressing on her wound, speaking to her constantly to keep her from losing consciousness.
“Don’t answer. Just listen to me, okay? You have to go back. There are people waiting for you in the capital… you have to return to them…”
“…Senior’s curse…”
Christine ignored his words and spoke anyway.
“I don’t want to hear it, so shut up and just stay awake.”
“I… was the one… who taught them… how to plant… that curse… into the potion…”
What did any of that matter now? What was she even saying? Maxim bit his lip.
“So what? What does that have to do with anything? What do you want me to do? Forgive you and let you die? Don’t talk nonsense, Christine. If you’re going to apologize, do it after you’ve recovered. Don’t leave me with just words like this and disappear!”
Christine’s hand rose to Maxim’s face.
“Don’t… cry…”
Maxim clenched his teeth. Tears continued streaming down his cheeks against his will.
“Actually… Senior… at first I followed you because I felt sorry… but now…”
Her thumb gently brushed his cheek.
“I just… fell for you. Being by your side… just made me happy…”
“I told you not to speak.”
Light gathered in Christine’s hand.
“What are you doing?”
Her lips curved into a faint smile.
“A small… atonement.”
A brilliant cluster of mana, the same color as her hair, gathered at her fingertips. Maxim fought against the memories vanishing by the second, desperately trying not to let go of her hand.
“Senior…”
“Don’t. I said don’t.”
The light melted into his heart. Maxim tried to push her hand away, but she paid no attention and continued sending the mana into him. Realizing he couldn’t stop her, he simply held her hand tightly.
Feeling his warmth, Christine’s green eyes widened, and the most beautiful smile bloomed across her face.
“I love you.”
Christine. Christine.
Strength left her hand. The pale, small, delicate hand fell limply to the ground.
Christine. Chri…s…
Whose name… am I calling right now?
Roberto looked down at Maxim, who sat dazed on the ground.
“…Impressive.”
To still retain his sanity after being pushed that far, after having his body devoured by the curse. Then Roberto glanced at Christine’s body lying before Maxim.
“…Even in the end, she wasted her efforts.”
His voice was bitter. But he quickly regained his composure and approached Maxim. Now that the curse had completely taken over, Maxim was nothing more than a breathing puppet.
“Help me move this guy.”
The driver, who had been watching everything, nodded fearfully. The two slowly approached Maxim and grabbed his arms to lift him.
“Ugh, he’s heavy because of the armor…”
Thud.
Huh?
Roberto looked to the side. The driver lay on the ground, his head twisted at an unnatural angle.
“…Oh.”
And standing before him was Maxim, his eyes burning with golden killing intent. Even the hole pierced through his own abdomen.
“Max…im… you…”
Drip.
Rain began to fall. Maxim twisted Roberto’s wrist, severing the thread of his life completely.
Clang.
The sword slid out of Roberto’s torso with a slick sound. Roberto’s body began its endless fall down the cliff.
Maxim released the sword from his hand. It stabbed into the dirt with a dull thud. He slowly walked toward Christine. He tried to stand while holding her, but his legs gave out and he collapsed again.
Thud.
Mud from the increasingly muddy path splattered onto his armor. Maxim forced himself up once more.
“…Ah.”
He muttered. Pain surged through him. The fully awakened curse, having completed its purpose and on the verge of vanishing, had inflicted terrible damage on his body. Yet he stood.
In his arms was Christine’s body, growing colder by the second. Maxim took a breath.
Don’t hesitate, Maxim Apparte. He whipped himself forward.
He took another step.
“I won’t lose anything else.”
You’ve already lost so much. That’s what he told himself.
The last cluster of light Christine had left behind was likely connected to her fading breath, but it would at least help him hold onto the remaining fragments before his memories disappeared completely.
Maxim took another step. The mud made wet, unpleasant squelching sounds. At this moment, the curse no longer mattered. The determination not to lose anything more pushed his steps forward.
The rain continued to fall, coldly soaking the earth. Maxim paid it no mind.
Just a little farther.
Step.
He moved forward. Little by little.
And so the knight walked westward.