Episode 45: Female Knights Exist (But the Black Knight?!)
Just as armies might have female brigade commanders and male division leaders (or not), there were female knights and male knights among the knights. The mere existence of a female knight wasn't strange. This was a medieval fantasy world, after all—there was no law saying women couldn't become knights.
But the reason Ian was shocked was that she was the Black Knight.
The one who had shattered the count's central forces, charged into the enemy lines, and slain the count herself—a possessor of tremendous martial prowess! ...But why was she a woman?
Ian wasn't being sexist or anything. It was simple biology. Men were stronger and had superior physical capabilities compared to women—that was scientific fact. Knighthood was the pinnacle of physical prowess utilization, and for one of the standout knights to be a woman who fought that well? It was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
Far off in France, there was that famous light novel protagonist, Joan of Arc. A gloomy big-breasted beauty chosen by God to sweep away the English army—that kind of story. The author was... some guy named Earth or whatever. Thanks to the author's overflowing credibility and name value, that absurd light novel even got called history and taught in schools.
Anyway. Ian nodded, recalling Joan of Arc's existence. Earth's authors devoured plausibility like it was breakfast and threw in crazy, outlandish settings whenever they felt like it. A world where a blonde beauty of a female knight shone? Totally plausible.
...The problem was that this world was unfolding right in front of his eyes.
Ian clasped his hands together and prayed for the blonde beauty knight's soul to rest in peace. If she'd been alive, he could've at least heard her story. As it was, she was dead—such a shame.
...Or so he thought.
"Cough."
"???"
The Black Knight spat out a mouthful of water, her face twisted in agony. Ian jumped in surprise. A corpse coughing up water!
"...No, wait, that's not right."
Ian snapped out of it. She looked like a corpse, but she wasn't one. The Black Knight was alive. For now. If he didn't get all the river water out of her, she'd really die.
Ian sprang into action. Placing his hands on her chest, he firmly pressed down on her abdomen, forcing the water from her stomach. As he worked to save the Black Knight, a thought crossed his mind: Am I saving her for no good reason? They said your mindset going into the bathroom was different from coming out. She might be grateful for the lifesaving, but she could try kidnapping Lucy again.
But that worry was pointless. The solution was simple enough.
Ian pulled out some rope and bound her hands and feet. Not some outdoor bondage play or anything—just practical restraint. She wasn't some ogre in human skin who'd snap it with raw strength, right?
Before long, the Black Knight came to.
"Awake?"
"...?"
She blinked in confusion, glancing between her bound limbs and Ian... then suddenly shrieked.
"You... you! My, my armor...!"
"Took it off."
"!!!"
Ian wondered if he should've left the armor on. The Black Knight's current state was... well, a bit—no, pretty damn revealing.
A short, thin sleeveless top like a tank and equally thin pants. Both soaked through, translucent enough to embarrassingly show her underwear—the cloth wrapped tight around her chest and her lower garments were basically visible.
If Ian were the type weak to temptation, he might've given in to impulse. But he wasn't Sung Yu-jin.
"Couldn't trust you, so I disarmed you."
Logically sound, but emotionally? Not so much. The Black Knight's face flushed beet red. She knew exactly how she looked.
"To show such a sight to an enemy...!"
She glared at Ian, her expression stained with humiliation, then spat out a line dripping with shame.
"Hmph. Kill me!"
"???"
Ian couldn't believe his ears. Was she seriously saying that line? It wasn't like female knights from some creative work were linked by invisible karma or anything.
He never imagined witnessing a medieval fantasy female knight spouting "Hmph, kill me!" in real time. There wasn't some rulebook for captured heroines mandating it, was there?
But weird was weird.
"Why should I?"
"Why...? You mean... no way!"
The Black Knight stared at him in horror. Ian was even more baffled. What the hell is she imagining?
"You still don't get why I saved you? Water still in your ears?"
"O-of course..."
She hung her head, mumbling with a flushed face.
"To humiliate me..."
"..."
Ian had no clue where she'd gone off the rails, but he had zero intention of humiliating or degrading her.
"Nah. You were dying, so I saved you."
"...No plans to humiliate me?"
"Well, if you want, I could strip you right now..."
"D-don't! You madman!"
Ian clicked his tongue at her. She looks fine on the outside, but she's totally twisted inside!
But the Black Knight thought Ian was the weird one too.
...He's really not fazed?
Exposing her utterly shameful secret to an enemy... and his reaction wasn't mockery or contempt. Just calm indifference?
Because he's a mage...?
She shook her head. It could be a mage's ploy to lower her guard—lull her into comfort, build her up, then drop her for fun. Still not fully trusting him, she cried out in a shrill voice.
"Are you mocking me now? Even if I've sinned, I'm an honorable knight! I condemn your vile scorn!"
Ian would've reacted to her mockery accusation, but his response was... utterly unpredictable.
"Sin? What sin? Oh. Fighting me?"
"...?"
What fresh nonsense was this? More baffled than angry, she shot back.
"Are you asking because you don't know? Or mocking me again?"
"What?"
"Do you think facing an enemy as a knight is a sin?"
Huh? Ian tilted his head. Unlike the modern world, where violence was sinful, in this medieval fantasy realm, it was as natural as breathing.
In modern times, even a fourth-grader caught stealing snacks could smirk, "Yeah, juvenile offender—can't punish me, huh? Pisses you off? Wanna hit me?" But try that here, and you'd get straight-up pummeled, then applause from onlookers.
"Oh! Teaching an ignorant child a lesson—what an honorable soul!"
In short, violence was overlooked if it wasn't cowardly or unfair. Sure, Celestial Church priests preached love and rejected it, but most medieval folk didn't see violence as sinful.
"Then why bring up sin?"
"..."
The Black Knight couldn't continue. Confessing her own sin wasn't easy. Rather than explain, she chose silence.
Ian shrugged.
"Lame."
#
Ian brought the Black Knight back to camp. Lucy, waiting by the fire, gaped at him arriving with a strange woman.
"What the—? You said you were just fetching water!!!"
"Yeah."
"Then what's she?!"
"Fished her out of the river."
"???"
Fished a woman out of the river? Was she a river spirit? Lucy had a ton of questions but held back, waiting for his explanation.
Once Ian laid out the story, she understood—this was the Black Knight.
"...So you're the Black Knight."
Lucy eyed her calmly. Ian was surprised by her composure. He'd figured she'd hate the one who crushed the count's army...
"You okay?"
"With what?"
"Me bringing the Black Knight."
Lucy slowly shook her head at his question.
"You must have a reason for saving her. Probably to persuade her to switch sides, right?"
"..."
Truth be told, Ian had only thought to save the dying woman in front of him. She seemed reasonable enough...
"I'm not foolish enough to get mad at a free knight like that."
"Oh..."
Ian admired her noble poise. Virtue was key for nobles. It drew retainers. To earn true loyalty beyond contracts, one needed magnanimity.
"Now that we've captured her, she won't turn hostile."
"Why?"
"She owes us her life."
Lucy was right. The Black Knight played the prisoner role meekly upon seeing her.
"..."
She even flinched at Lucy's gaze—probably part of the act.
"You look a mess, Black Knight."
"...Hmph."
But Lucy's next words made her face explode red.
"Swinging a sword in disguise... Thrill-seeker, huh?"
"Hmph!"
Under Lucy's sharp rebuke, she looked ready to bite her tongue and die.
"???"
Ian was the only one out of the loop.
"What's her deal?"
"What?"
Lucy realized Ian was clueless and facepalmed. Even a mage trained in the mountains should've known basic common sense!
"You... look at her and feel nothing?"
"...Should I dress her?"
"No, she's in men's clothes!"
"Ah."
Now it clicked. Her talk of sin. Lucy's contempt. All because the Black Knight had cross-dressed as a man.
Unlike modern society with unisex norms, this medieval fantasy world strictly divided men's and women's clothes. A man in women's wear or vice versa was sinful.
Even modern folks could relate somewhat. Women's menswear was socially okay, but a man in women's? ...Yeah, no.
Picture Ian, who'd secretly admired maids, getting caught working a maid café in drag.
"This guy www~ Dude in girl. Clothes. Lmao www~"
"Eek~ Forgive meee~ I'm a guy~ Wearing girl clothes~"
Overwhelmed by shame, Ian mutters with a flushed face:
"Hmph. Kill me..."
"..."
Now Ian got it. She'd been forcibly outed. Poor thing. If it were him, he'd have bitten his tongue right there.
"Cross-dressing your kink? Or some reason?"
"..."
"Whatever. Doesn't matter. Word'll spread soon that the Black Knight cross-dresses, right?"
"...!"
At Lucy's threat, she glared daggers, knightly killing intent and all. Lucy didn't flinch.
"I demand you protect my honor, Talian."
"Honor? A mercenary knight flipping sides for coin? You're barely better than bandits."
"What?!"
Their voices rose. Before it escalated, Ian cut in.
"Enough, Lucy. You're worked up."
"No. We gotta press— we have her weakness now...!"
Before she could yell more, Ian gently pressed her shoulder. Lucy flushed slightly.
"I'll handle the rest. Go rest. You'll feel better."
"I'm fine ri—"
She stopped, noticing her hands trembling. He was right. She was overwhelmed. Too many disasters piling up, turning anxiety into aggression.
"...Sorry."
Lucy left a curt apology and walked off. Ian plopped down beside the Black Knight.
"Whew. Much ado about nothing, huh?"
She stared in disbelief.
"You seriously think that?"
"Yeah."
"...You don't follow the Celestial Church, do you."
Ian tilted his head.
"Nah, I do."
"...?"
Now she was baffled. Believed in the Church but didn't mind cross-dressing? Did he even know the doctrine? Fashion believer?
But Ian wasn't done. His next words left her speechless.
"Fuckin' hell, a girl cross-dressing now and then? When guys prance around in drag everywhere."
"M-men... in drag? You've seen it?"
"Seen it, yeah."
"Why? What's the reason?"
"Some game cosplay shit."
"???"
She couldn't parse a word. Men in drag? If real, it'd be hell on earth.
But to modern Ian, cross-dressing wasn't a big deal like for medievals. In an era where even the Pope told gays to love prettily, whatever.
His words were complex, incomprehensible. But one thing was clear: he meant it sincerely.
"So don't mope. It's just cross-dressing."
"..."
Mage weird thinking? Or his nature? She didn't know. But his comfort... didn't feel bad.
"You're as quirky a mage as your skills suggest."
"Yeah, yeah, sure."
Tired of the "quirky mage" trope, Ian brushed it off. Unknowingly, she let out a small chuckle.