The Black Knight's Secret and Oath

When Ian opened his eyes, the world was still bathed in a mystical blue glow. The dim blue twilight between midnight and dawn. In that blue world, a tall blonde woman ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was gazing at him like a fairy.

'Fuck, you scared me.' Of course, from a distance, she looked like a picture-perfect beauty. But waking up to someone looming over him made Ian jump.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Nah, not that." Ian glanced around and sighed. The sun wouldn't rise for another thirty minutes or so. But since he was up now, he'd lost his morning sleep. Like most Koreans, Ian had a weird obsession with that precious morning rest.

"...The rope?"

"What rope?"

"The one tied to the tree. For your arm."

Before sleeping, Ian had wrapped the rope binding the Black Knight's arm tightly around a tree. Obviously to prevent escape or attack. But lo and behold, when he woke, she was wandering around with her hands ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠only loosely bound. Weird.

Did he tie it wrong yesterday?

"Wasn't tied up?"

"..."

Ian just nodded at her calm response. What was the point of arguing now that it was morning?

"How long you been up?"

"A bit. Got a lot to think about."

The Black Knight suddenly extended her hand. When Ian looked at her quizzically, she said,

"I want knightly treatment. Untie my hands."

"How can I trust you?"

When Ian shot back, she replied confidently.

"I swear on my knight's honor. I won't attack you."

"..."

Ian eyed her suspiciously. What he distrusted was her raw power itself. Mages were weak in close combat. If she just grabbed his neck and twisted, how could he fight that off? Better to keep her hands bound for peace of mind.

As Ian's suspicion lingered, she calmly began her story.

"I'm Belenca of the Mats family. From the Winz March. A barren land east of the Empire."

'Matches what Sir Dikedo said.' Sir Dikedo had pegged her as an eastern knight after seeing her prowess. Probably Winz knights favored black armor.

"As the firstborn, I trained as a knight from childhood to follow in my father's footsteps. But after he passed, my mother tried passing his gear to my younger sibling without asking. I explained it was mine, but she wouldn't listen."

"Ah. So you stole it?"

"What do you take me for? I took it fair and square."

Ian nodded. He could guess. Fair and square (physically).

As expected, Belenca of Mats had beaten her sibling senseless and seized the weapons and armor. That led to a trial... which she lost. The lord and mother were in cahoots. After losing, Belenca should've surrendered the gear and gone to jail. But she didn't.

Executing justice required force, after all. You had to catch the criminal first. And as they'd seen, Belenca was strong. When the lord's soldiers and knights threatened her, she beat them down in a fair-and-square stance (physical) and bellowed,

'Who dares judge me!'

No matter the lord's legal authority, might made right in the end. Embodying the limits of medieval justice, Belenca fled the Winz March for the Holy Empire. Her destination: the Rolland Kingdom in the continent's west, where her father had served as a knight in his youth.

"They'll surely take in the daughter of their old knight."

"Hm." Ian nodded, though it felt off. Thinking she could waltz into Dad's old workplace? Too naive? But in this era where jobs were hereditary, it wasn't that wrong.

"Then why the disguise?"

"..."

Mention of the male disguise flushed Belenca's face bright red.

"Th-that's... N-not because I like women or anything!!!"

"Huh? You a lesbian?"

"No!!!"

Ian didn't know, but in this era, men in drag or women in men's clothes often signaled unusual orientations. A woman in men's attire? Probably into women.

"I heard Empire knights discriminate against female knights! Dad said they're barbarians, so I had to be careful."

Hm... was that true? Ian wasn't a knight, so he wouldn't know. But the Empire was barbaric. Their roots weren't Golden Empire folk but northern barbarians. That wild streak lingered, and outdoor women drew odd looks. Or rather, men who let women do hard labor got the side-eye: 'Why turn into a man and just watch women struggle?' Classic barbarian logic.

"So I planned to hide my gender until leaving Empire lands! Didn't want trouble."

Lucy would've smirked, 'Just an excuse to wear men's clothes, huh?' But Ian, free of medieval biases, just accepted it.

"And..."

"What else?"

Belenca nodded and held out her black helmet.

"This helmet has magic on it."

"Magic?"

Ian perked up at the surprise. Magic was his wheelhouse!

"Yeah. It changes the voice... but I can't control it."

"Put it on, and your voice turns male automatically?"

"Exactly."

She explained: unknown origin, but her father's helmet altered the wearer's voice. She'd only recently inherited the armor and hadn't noticed. After testing in battle, it wasn't dangerous, so she ignored it.

Voice-changing magic? Just don't talk. Back in the march, Belenca either stayed silent or removed the helmet for chats—face-to-face excuse and all. But once in Empire territory, she reconsidered. Why not play the man fully? Not into pervy cross-dressing, but circumstances... Plus, it'd throw off pursuers.

Who'd guess she'd run into Ian right away? Deep down, Belenca figured it was divine punishment for coveting the opposite gender's clothes.

"No more disguise now."

"What about the helmet?"

"Just don't talk."

Ian shook his head. Silent knight schtick worked once or twice. Otherwise, it'd be frustrating.

"Mind if I check it?"

"The helmet magic?"

Belenca handed it over casually. Ian inspected it closely. She found the sight novel—mages up close were a fresh curiosity.

After poking around, Ian scratched his head.

'No clue.'

Ian had seen countless mysteries, but this helmet's magic tapped a different one. The world was vast, mysteries diverse. He realized anew he was still a green mage.

'Skill points, huh...' Come to think of it, witnessing the storm mystery had netted 500 points—a hefty bonus. With points in hand, Ian opened his skill window to browse.

'Necromancy?' The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠new mystery was one of spirits.

"Looks like this is a haunted helmet."

"...Haunted?"

Belenca freaked at Ian's explanation. She'd thought it was just voice-altering magic... not a ghost-possessed item?!

"I'm no necromancer, so details are beyond me."

"I-is it... dangerous?"

"Not really? No issues so far, probably none ahead."

"...You sure?"

Ian handed back the helmet.

"Dunno."

"..."

"Better use it sparingly in fights. Can't tell if it's boon or bane."

Ian wasn't omnipotent; he didn't know every mystery. He could invest points in Necromancy now, but blowing them on one helmet felt wasteful— a luxury only a multi-school mage like him could afford. Better save for a pivotal moment, like with Longtail.

After the appraisal, Belenca said sincerely,

"Thanks, mage."

"No biggie."

As full dawn broke, Ian untied her fully and fed her breakfast. She'd sworn to the heavens never to antagonize them.

"But oaths alone enough?"

"Ian's suspicious in weird ways."

Lucy trusted Belenca's vow without question, but Ian couldn't shake his unease. Oaths were... meaningless! How trust words from a mouth that could lie? Especially with his Korean ancestors' shameless "oath-breaking" diplomacy against China and Mongols—records even called them untrustworthy. But in this era of widespread Celestial Faith, heavenly oaths were 90% reliable. As long as desperation hadn't set in.

"Your name's Ian, right?"

"Yeah. Ian, disciple of Eredis. Some call me Raven."

"Right. Ian Eredis Raven."

Belenca dropped to one knee on the ground—a pre-knighting pose.

"Though it was circumstantial, we wielded violence against each other. Yet you saved my life, former enemy. Thanks aren't enough, Ian."

"You can say that standing."

"No, Ian. I have one request."

"Request?"

Belenca bowed her head.

"Can we pretend everything between us... never happened?"

"...?"

Ian blanked for a sec, then got it. Ah, reconciliation! You messed up, I messed up—call it even and forget.

Typical shy medievalite.

"Sure. Water under the bridge."

Belenca beamed at his crisp reply.

"..."

Lucy watched arms crossed. Feeling her gaze, Belenca turned her head.

"Whatever you say, I'll fight to uphold my honor, Talian."

Ian braced for round two. But Lucy backed down first.

"...Yesterday's words were reckless. Apologies for threatening a honorable knight's weakness."

"..."

"As amends, I'll forget your past entirely. That's what you want, right?"

"Yes."

Lucy nodded slowly. Ian couldn't believe it. What? Acting all magnanimous noble? You sure you're Lucy? Not some shapeshifter?

Lucy knew Belenca's heart had left her. Recruiting a free knight like her would've been ideal, but that ship sailed—no enmity now. Bonus: Belenca eyed Ian favorably. Ian was Lucy's ally... so accepting Belenca meant she came as a package deal.

With Lucy's piece done, Belenca said gravely,

"Thanks for your generosity, both. And Ian—my life, now my past... I owe you much."

She bowed again.

"But I have no money now. So..."

"Huh?"

"Let me repay with my body."