Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Iron Fist Against the Holy Knights
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"Ash!"
"No need to worry now, Princess! I'll have you out of there in no time!"
Ash and Millia gazed at each other and shared a smile.
"...No, that's all fine and dandy. But where the hell did that slimy noble scumbag disappear to?"
Leaving Ash and Millia's heartwarming moment behind, Saladin cursed at the noble who still hadn't shown his face.
Regardless of Saladin's reaction, the standoff between the two sides dragged on.
The elves couldn't breach the 27th Holy Knight Order's barrier.
And the moment the Holy Knights lowered their shields, they'd be pelted with elven arrows.
But the stalemate didn't last long.
"How long do you intend to cower like frightened turtles? Do you plan to defy the sacred commands of Her Imperial Highness the Princess and the Archbishop?"
The Holy Knights flinched.
Her Imperial Highness the Princess and the Archbishop.
Yes. Their lives weren't what mattered from the start. This was their first mission to turn the Holy War into a victory, all in service to the will of Her Imperial Highness the Princess and the Archbishop!
They couldn't afford to botch this great first step right from the beginning.
Clack! Clack! Clack!
The knight order's formation shifted.
From a formation that blocked front, back, left, right, and even above, they now advanced with shields lowered everywhere except the front—heading straight toward Peter and Millia.
The elves, seeing this, desperately tried to rush to Millia's side.
In the forest, elven mobility was absolute.
They couldn't keep up with that shield formation chasing them.
But the Holy Knights weren't fools.
Twang! Twang!
Arrows began flying from the gaps between the knights' shields.
With fewer knights holding shields, the freed hands now gripped bows.
They loosed arrows without a care if Millia got hurt.
After all, they only needed her alive.
Losing an arm or leg wouldn't matter.
But the elves were different. They wanted not a single hair on Millia's head harmed.
In the end, the elves gave up reaching Millia and moved to intercept the advancing 27th Holy Knight Order.
Thud! Thud!
True to their reputation as the continent's unmatched archers, the elves pierced the knights' heads through the tiniest gaps in the shields.
Yet, possessed by Hiran's shout, the Holy Knights pressed on toward Millia, heedless of their comrades' heads exploding.
"Tch, those mindless brutes... Hey, Prince! I'll hold them off, so you and the princess over there...?!"
Unable to stand it any longer, Saladin tried to block them with his malfunctioning puppets Mimi and Nene.
Clang!
Hiran, who had closed in unnoticed, aimed for Saladin's throat.
"What, thought you could run? Turns out you can't do a damn thing."
Hiran mocked Saladin, quoting his own words.
"...You bastard!"
While Hiran stalled Saladin and the elves fought back,
the relentlessly advancing Holy Knights slowly reached Millia's position.
At that moment.
Boom!
"Gaaargh!"
A burst like fireworks erupted from the left flank of the advancing 27th Holy Knight Order, sending a bloodied knight flying toward Saladin and Hiran.
"Shit."
Saladin, locked in standoff with Hiran, spat a rough curse.
"Came quicker than expected, you rotten bastard."
A reply came from where the sound originated.
"Sorry. It's farther than I thought."
Along with an embarrassed tone, the figure shook blood from his fist.
It was Jerome.
Hiran couldn't make sense of the situation.
It had been a simple mission.
The elf princess listed at the Mercado auction.
Eliminate the winner and offer her to Her Imperial Highness the Princess and the Archbishop—a straightforward task.
Sure, the buyer being a direct heir of the Mercado owner was a wrinkle, but it was just some pipsqueak from a tiny kingdom.
Executing the sacred command of Her Imperial Highness and the Archbishop wouldn't be hindered by some backwater successor.
It had gone smoothly at first.
The elves and puppets caused some extra casualties midway, but that was irrelevant.
Martyrdom was an honor for them.
But this situation?
It was outside Hiran's calculations.
Ever since that greenhorn punk—barely past boyhood—suddenly appeared.
Boom!
"Gaaargh!"
His proud 27th Holy Knight Order's shields shattered.
Crack!
"Kuhk!"
One savage punch or kick crumpled their bodies.
Crunch!
Those struck in the head collapsed lifelessly on the spot.
"...What the hell."
This damned wretch ruining the sacred command from Her Imperial Highness and the Archbishop—what was he?
"...What the hell are you, you bastard?!"
Hiran roared and charged at Jerome.
But the punk merely cracked his neck a couple times before speaking.
"Someone you bastards really hate."
"You damned heretic!!"
In fury, Hiran enveloped his sword in aura.
Pure white aura, symbol of the Holy Empire.
This holy power would cleave the arrogant brat in one stroke.
But.
"...Weak. Too weak."
That level of aura couldn't pierce my steel.
Not after I'd beaten Mercy, his sister rated near the Six Shields' level.
Unless it was a single-digit numbered knight order from the Empire's Ten Holy Knight Orders, a two-digit rabble captain like this wasn't my match.
Proof?
Clang!
Even with aura-laced sword strikes, it couldn't breach my skin.
"...How... aura?! At your age, barely out of your teens, wielding aura freely? No... you! You're with the Black Lions...!"
Thwack!
"Kuhk!"
A drum-like burst echoed.
Struck by my Iron Fist, he wouldn't recover for a while.
"Ugh, gross bastards."
Saladin, sprawled out, shuddered as if he didn't want to even think about it.
"Couldn't agree more."
The captain had been down for ages. The battle was effectively over.
Yet the Empire's Holy Knights resisted until the very last man fell.
As if they didn't know the word "surrender."
"This is why the Holy Empire is so fearsome."
Holding four of the continent's eleven thrones?
Ruling a third of the vast continent's territory?
That wasn't the Holy Empire's true terror.
From nobles to knights to soldiers, bound by fanatical faith, offering their lives under the name of martyrdom.
That was the Holy Empire's genuine dread.
"Cough! Cough!"
As the elves mopped up the remaining Holy Knight stragglers, a rough sound came from behind.
"Ah, looks like he's awake."
It was Hiran, the 27th Holy Knight Order captain I'd knocked out with my fist.
"Heh, heh... You won't learn a thing from me. Don't waste your time—just kill me."
The moment he opened his eyes, the captain sneered at us.
His gaze remained unbroken.
"What, we've already figured out the basics? Like how you're from the Holy Empire."
I approached Hiran slowly. His expression didn't change.
Makes sense. He'd spilled it all himself in his ramblings.
Then how about this?
"What... a single Holy Knight Order captain wouldn't pull off something this insane alone. So, who's pulling the strings...?"
He flinched.
"Kidnapping an elf princess has upsides, but the downsides are glaring. Risking this gamble means a weak foundation. So, the Third Imperial Princess, right?"
He flinched!
"If the Third Imperial Princess is moving, Archbishop Livia must approve. No other bishop would back Ibarrela Princess."
Flinch! Flinch!
The more I spoke, the harder Hiran tried to mask his expression.
But his twitching body betrayed him.
I locked eyes with his wavering gaze and said,
"The Third Imperial Princess already swaying a Holy Knight Order means plenty more have fallen in the shadows. Hmm, wonder how the Crown Prince would react to this."
"...You! What the hell are you?!"
Thoughts of a threat to Ibarrela's safety finally shattered Hiran's composure.
And his reaction was answer enough for me.
Crunch! Thud!
Having heard all I needed, no point wasting more time.
I shook the blood from my fist and headed to Prince Peter, cowering in the corner.
"Pleased to meet you, Your Highness. I'm—"
Hm?
For some reason, as I approached, Prince Peter backed away bit by bit. He looked just like...
"No wonder he's scared, you idiot. Look at yourself."
Saladin, who had sneaked up, picked at me.
Ah.
The long night had ended at last, dawn's dim light revealing everything.
In other words, my blood-soaked appearance was on full display.
I'd fought the Empire's Holy Knights nonstop to save Millia, and just now crushed Hiran's skull.
The warm blood from his head still clung to my hands.
Hm.
Fair enough to be startled.
Regardless of my past life, I still looked like a boy on the outside.
"My apologies, Your Highness. I'll clean up and offer a proper greeting later."
"N-no, thank you for your aid. But... who exactly are you?"
Young, yet wielding immense power. And cold, sharp deduction.
This is no ordinary person.
Peter assumed someone of this caliber would be well-known.
"A scion of the Carviot Count family from the Ikenia Kingdom."
As expected. Of the Shield Family.
"They say the Shield Family has an exceptional son. Indeed, beyond the rumors. Ares, my thanks for your kindness."
Prince Peter bowed his head in gratitude.
"......"
"...Pfft!"
"......?"
But Ares's expression—after revealing himself as a Shield Family scion—was odd.
And beside him, Saladin desperately held back laughter at whatever amused him so.
"Young Master Ares, did I say something wrong?"
"...It's Jerome."
"...Huh?"
"I'm Jerome, the Shield Family's Third Young Master. Prince Peter."
"......?"
What did I just hear?
Peter could only blankly repeat Jerome's words.
"...Bug?"
"Puhahaha!"
Saladin's pent-up laughter finally burst.
Right after rescuing Prince Peter, we helped his knights wipe out the remaining Holy Knights.
Now, at an inn on the outskirts of Mercado, we shared a long talk with the prince's group.
"Ahem, apologies for earlier. I was rude. You just don't match the rumors at all, so..."
Ah, that wretched nickname.
I'll erase it somehow before I hit twenty.
I ground my teeth inwardly but kept it off my face.
This wasn't the time.
"Allow me to thank you again. But if I may ask—why did you save our group?"
After a brief, awkward apology, Peter cut to the chase.
"Sure, Ikenia and the Five Nations Alliance are allies, so aid makes sense. But my gut says that's not the whole story."
From his perspective, a foreigner—let alone a vital heir of another nation's key house—risking his life in such peril seemed odd.
Allies or not, there was no obligation.
"No special reason. Like the Holy Empire, I just wanted Millia."
Peter's expression chilled instantly.
"...Are you, like the Holy Empire, planning to use her?"
"Didn't Saladin tell you? We took the elves' commission and came here to rescue Millia."
Peter didn't soften, merely shaking his head.
"I know that. Of course you'd come to save her."
Then he met my eyes squarely.
"What I'm asking is whether you intend to 'use' her."
Slurp!
"If so, I won't yield Millia. Not even to my savior."
Peter declared quietly after sipping his herbal tea.