Chapter 438: Someday, When You Have Forgotten, Like a Disaster Without Warning (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 438: Someday, When You Have Forgotten, Like a Disaster Without Warning (1)
Five days had passed since the Exiles and their vagabond mercenaries struck Tikan.
While news reports poured in, the 12th Flagbearer had yet to make any significant moves. Consequently, the elders were wandering through a fog of ever-increasing anxiety.
In an Elder Council villa in the city of Kalon, Jorden and his fellow elders sat gathered around a round table, their expressions dark and frustrated.
Before them lay a stack of newspapers from various nations, all covering the recent incident.
[Tikan Free City Attacked by Unidentified Assailants]
[Some Facilities and Property Destroyed, but Civilian Casualties Reported at Zero…]
[Why Tikan's City Guard Became an Iron Army: The Jin Runcandel Effect]
[As Proven in the Sword Emperor Castle Incident, Runcandel's 12th Flagbearer Possesses an Extraordinary Talent for Counter-Terrorism]
[This Isn't a Unique Trait of the 12th Flagbearer, but a Virtue Possessed by All Runcandel Flagbearers…]
[12 Injured, 0 Dead! All Terrorists Killed; Tikan Upholds its Dignity]
[Coming So Soon After the Sword Emperor Castle Attack, Why the Recent Surge in Terrorism?]
[Identities of Terrorists Not Yet Revealed… What Will Be the 12th Flagbearer's Response?]
The front pages were plastered with news of the Tikan attack. This was true not only for newspapers in Huphester but also for publications from Viment and the Lutero Magic Federation.
Some of the elders looking down at the newspapers let out heavy sighs.
In truth, every one of them wanted to sigh, but they held it back, wary of Jorden, who was trembling with rage. Letting out even a small sigh was a privilege reserved for only the highest-ranking elders.
“Not a single… death…!”
Jorden shouted, violently crumpling the newspaper in front of him. His bloodshot eyes were filled with a gloomy fury.
“Is that number even possible?!”
Slam!
The round table shattered under Jorden’s fist, sending splinters flying in every direction.
When he had decided to send the Exiles to Tikan, Jorden certainly hadn't expected this outcome.
While completely destroying Tikan might have been impossible, he had at least expected catastrophic civilian casualties and the deaths of several of Jin’s companions.
Considering the attack was carried out by two Exiles and a group of combatants who were at least 7-star, expecting that level of damage was hardly an exaggeration.
“It makes no sense, Elder Council Head. At the very least, several hundred civilians—no, even that’s too few. There should have been thousands of casualties.”
“Please, calm yourself, Elder Council Head. Here, have some cold water. You there! Bring some colder water!”
“It’s clear the Exiles betrayed us.”
“Why would they betray us? Their goal is revenge. They know the strength of the Black Sword Council better than anyone; there’s no way they would value the 12th Flagbearer over you, Elder Council Head.”
“But if it wasn’t betrayal, how do you explain these results? Furthermore, these articles are based on information the 12th Flagbearer intentionally fed to the press. That means there’s a high probability that the claim about all the Exiles and vagabonds being dead is also a lie.”
“Then couldn’t the claim of zero casualties in Tikan also be a lie?”
“Can you really say that after everything we’ve seen from the 12th Flagbearer? That devilish brat never does anything that would disadvantage him. If anyone investigated seriously, the truth would come out, and Tikan’s lack of damage has already been verified by agencies from various nations.”
“Hah, truly. The fact that the 12th Flagbearer… the man who was bold enough to bring us the heads of our dead colleagues, hasn’t made a move yet is what makes me so uneasy.”
The bickering elders all watched Jorden’s lips.
Depending on his decision, the incident could either be buried or escalate further.
Hiss, hiss. Jorden’s ragged, wheezing breath gradually slowed. He was barely managing to suppress his rage.
“…I understand everyone’s concerns. The 12th Flagbearer, that madman, is staying quiet for now, but there is no way he will let this slide. Just as he brought the heads of the elders before, he will surely retaliate.”
As Jorden spoke, the elders' expressions darkened once more.
Some of them inwardly judged that Jorden had lost his touch. He had grandly pulled out a trump card, claiming he would go to war with the 12th Flagbearer, but with such results from the very start, disappointment was inevitable.
“Then what should we do, Elder Council Head?”
“I am worried about what the Acting Patriarch said last time. That if we disappointed her one more time, she would temporarily shut down the Elder Council…”
“Enough with such ill-omened talk!”
At those words, Jorden pressed a hand to his forehead.
“First, the Black Sword Council…”
Just as Jorden was about to answer, the sound of someone running down the hallway reached them.
“Elder Council Head, we have a problem!”
It was a Guardian Knight of the Elder Council.
From his urgent manner, distorted face, and trembling eyes, Jorden and the elders were struck by a single, chilling intuition.
The 12th Flagbearer had finally begun his retaliation.
“What is it? Speak calmly.”
Jorden’s eyebrows twitched minutely as he struggled to remain composed.
“An Exile… has come to the Garden of Swords!”
At the Guardian Knight's answer, a collective groan escaped from deep within the elders’ chests.
“Prepare the carriage… immediately!”
* * *
It was mid-December, the height of winter, yet an absurdly heavy downpour was lashing the ground.
Due to the strangely gloomy and erratic weather, the Guardian Knights protecting the Garden of Swords frequently found themselves looking up at the sky for no reason.
It felt as though the heavens were weeping.
“It’s midday, but it feels like night. Why the hell is it raining like this?”
“Days like this just make you depressed. Once we're off duty, let's go for a stiff drink…”
The chatting gatekeepers fell silent and straightened their postures. They had spotted a knight clad in shining grey armor approaching from the distance.
The grey armor symbolized an Enforcement Knight, one who upheld the clan’s laws.
Along with the black helmet, it was a rank that all Guardian Knights of the clan yearned for and respected.
Snap!
The Guardian Knights saluted with sharp discipline.
The Enforcement Knight returned the salute with equal precision as the main gate to the Garden of Swords swung open.
The Guardian Knights did not lower their saluting hands until the Enforcement Knight had vanished from their sight.
“An Enforcement Knight’s presence is certainly different from a regular Guardian Knight’s.”
“But wasn’t that armor an old-model Enforcement Knight suit? I think I saw it in a textbook during my cadet days.”
“Was it? I’m not sure. We don’t see them often… I wonder if the day will ever come when we get to wear that armor.”
The gatekeepers had no idea that the man was a knight who had been purged long ago.
Even if the armor was an old model, they believed no madman in the world would dare manufacture and impersonate a Runcandel Enforcement Knight.
Especially not here in Kalon, Huphester—the very heart of the Garden of Swords.
“We show such respect precisely because not just anyone can wear that armor.”
Squelch, squelch, squelch.
The Exile’s feet stepped through mud and water.
His cloak, exceptionally heavy with moisture, felt like the crushing weight of the years it had taken to return to this place.
The 12th Flagbearer was right.
Tarnishing Rosa’s authority and crying out the truth before a grand death was the greatest revenge they could achieve.
Why did we never think of something so simple all this time?
The Exiles knew the answer.
Their resentment was directed at Rosa Runcandel, not at Runcandel itself.
If he entered the Garden of Swords now and revealed that he had been alive all this time, Rosa would suffer a significant blow to her authority.
But it wouldn't end there.
If the other knights learned that the price for their loyalty and devotion to the clan was this hideous appearance and a purge…
It was an issue that could shake Runcandel to its very core.
Though they fiercely denied it, the Exiles had always loved Runcandel, even after being purged. Some would surely mock it as a twisted sense of loyalty, but they didn't care.
The time they had shone the brightest was, without a doubt, when they had belonged to this land.
—As the 12th Flagbearer said, that is indeed the only revenge we can take. But by going there, we are putting not just Lady Rosa, but all of Runcandel at risk.
—I suppose so.
—The clan’s cohesion will weaken, and it will be an opportunity for great powers like Zipple. Do you not realize that?
—Is that the Runcandel you wish for?
—What?
—A clan so rotten and weak that it would be devoured by its enemies the moment it couldn't hide its stench—I doubt that is the Runcandel you want. Regardless, the choice is yours. You can die by my hand, or you can go and reveal the truth.
Suddenly, the conversation he’d had with the 12th Flagbearer before coming to the Garden of Swords came to mind.
If the 12th Flagbearer had been born just a little earlier, we would have become his knights. We might have been able to keep our honor until the end.
Suppressing the terrifying regret that rose within him, he took one step after another. He walked, savoring the Garden of Swords they had helped build.
He paused for a moment, looking at the countless swords planted throughout the garden, and when he encountered the familiar faces of old butlers and scribes, he silently recalled their names.
Just as he was thinking that the scenery was no different from before his exile, he saw a site undergoing major repairs.
Is that the 12th Flagbearer's handiwork?
It was the Central Training Ground, which Jin had smashed during his ‘Patriarch Declaration.’ The Exile stood there for a moment, imagining how fierce and magnificent that day's battle must have been.
The raindrops flowing indifferently into his armor were cold.
The Exile’s footsteps finally stopped in the courtyard directly before the main residence.
Standing tall and looking up at the high walls of the inner chamber, he felt gazes gradually gather on him. Everyone was starting to sense that his behavior was unusual.
Why is that Enforcement Knight just standing there?
Was there still an Enforcement Knight who wore the old-model armor?
As those passing by began to harbor doubts, the Exile shouted.
He called out to the one person who would be inside the inner chamber, the person he had hated for so long, his voice a thunderous, massive, and deep resonance.
“Knight Rosa Runcandel, come forth and hear our story!”