Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Land of the Forgotten Knights (2)
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Raymond called out calmly, but his subordinates' hearts were filled with despair. How could they feel at ease when their lord was trapped in some unknown barrier in the land of the spirits?
"Don't worry. Have I ever let you down before? Or lied to you?"
They all shook their heads.
"Then trust me and wait. I'll be back soon."
Only then did the two Tower Lords and their subordinates calm down. Raymond flashed them a grin before turning away. He began walking toward the forgotten tomb.
Stairs leading underground. As they drew closer to the tomb, the spirits' clamor grew clearer. These were the brave knights who had stood at the vanguard of the racial war, in the name of humanity's resurgence.
They had placed themselves at the forefront of the great holy war solely to be remembered by future generations, to etch their names into history.
"Future generations will never forget you!"
Future generations had forgotten. They remembered nothing and poured everything into the river of oblivion. They had no desire to reclaim it.
The current glory shone so brightly that the blood and darkness shed in the past were buried. Only the spirits' silent cries lingered in the Black Mountains, where they had stood at the very front lines.
"What a tragic affair."
Raymond kept walking amid shouts verging on screams. The words slipped out from the pity swelling in his heart.
"Captain, do we even have a home to return to?"
"Thirty comrades who were laughing and chatting just yesterday lost their lives. Tomorrow, more will die."
"Was this war truly worth it?"
Time had passed. The initial bold cries were gone, replaced by a atmosphere of despair.
"Future generations will never forget you."
Another voice rang out, but it held no conviction this time.
"Is this as far as it goes?"
The voices stopped. Before him stood a small altar.
The spot where the 'Soul Sword' should have been. Raymond now knew what to do.
In the original story, the hidden hero Suhain would reveal this secret only to his grandson Richard—the protagonist of [Empire of the Dead]—the method to make the Soul Sword appear on the altar. Raymond knew it too.
"As one of noble blood from the two empires and five kingdoms, I remember your sacrifice."
Those who would draw the Soul Sword, remember its weight.
"You shall walk the path with me."
Those who invoke the forgotten oath of thousands of years, remember their grudge.
"In place of the shining glory before those who drank the sin of oblivion, I shall bestow a downfall of blood."
A wind blew in. Not from the passage behind him, but from the sealed walls.
The thick, stifling underground air coalesced into human forms.
There were seven of them.
Spirits clad in armor gathered and spoke.
The questions poured forth endlessly.
A knight who seemed to be their leader spoke in a hollow voice.
"The other empire splintered into three kingdoms, and the five kingdoms were devoured when Haipel from the north came down. As it stands now, I'm the only one who remembers your sacrifice."
It was a sad truth. These pitiful spirits needed to know it too.
One of the spirit knights muttered in lament. Raymond met his gaze steadily and spoke.
"A new era has dawned."
It was cold, but true.
One spirit knight asked point-blank.
"To bestow upon you the glory that was promised but now forgotten."
"If you won't believe me—the one who remembers your sacrifice—then who will you believe?"
The sharp retort silenced the spirit knights.
"You know full well that I'm the only one who can restore that honor."
No reply. Raymond's words had struck home. They knew it too—the tale of reclaiming the racial war's honor was far too distant a past.
Their responses followed the novel author's setup like NPCs, forcing Raymond to stifle a chuckle despite the gravity of the moment.
"That's exactly what I want. Your souls and grudges."
A sword forged from the souls of valiant knights, tempered in millennia of resentment—that was his goal.
The spirit knights sighed, but without displeasure.
"True history begins now. Join me, and not only the past glory but a new one will shine upon you."
This novel's prologue had long ended. The main story was about to begin—if they joined, etching their names into the epilogue would be no trouble.
"With your souls by my side, how could I betray you?"
Wielding the Soul Sword meant having a thousand knights at one's side.
The spirits murmured. Knightly as ever, they had a pure side. Truth be told, Raymond's words hadn't fully swayed them.
It was simply their burning desire to escape this place, their curiosity about the world beyond the Black Mountains.
And above all, the fact that imperial blood had come all the way here to the Black Mountains and remembered their racial war sacrifice lent some trust.
After deliberation and brief discussion, the seven spirit knights—representing a thousand spirits—made their decision.
With this, he had obtained the Soul Sword, said to rival an Aura Blade in power?
Of course. Even after millennia, memories of betrayal wouldn't fade.
Though he remembered their sacrifice, they couldn't shed all doubt.
"What do you mean by that?"
But this was a deviation from the novel. Nothing in the setup mentioned it.
Raymond masked his surprise and asked calmly.
Unexpected, but not the worst outcome. Raymond nodded silently, and the spirit knight continued.
Mana Sword level would qualify him for the 'Blessing of Sword and Magic.' That was a relief.
To reach Aura Blade output, he'd need the spirits' full approval—a common novel cliché. He was willing to accept that much.
Raymond didn't crave the pinnacle of Aura Blade anyway.
The Soul Sword was merely the opportunity that made Richard the protagonist—a stepping stone to becoming a magic swordsman via the 'Blessing of Sword and Magic.'
Raymond nodded slowly. The spirit knights parted to either side, opening the path to the central altar.
He walked toward it steadily. As he passed, the spirit knights bowed their heads and vanished into the darkness.
By the time he reached the altar, he was alone in the vast cavern.
Just as in the novel, he reached out over the altar. White energy coalesced into a single sword.
Soul Sword.
Forged from the 'souls' of a thousand knights at the racial war's vanguard, tempered in thousands of years of resentment, it held a blade sharp enough to cut anything.
"So this is the Soul Sword."
He swung it experimentally. The output felt sufficient, but swordsmanship was the issue. He'd never trained with a blade, so even with Mana Sword, he couldn't wield it effectively yet.
But swordsmanship could be learned from Gestain. Why seek anyone else with such a skilled high knight at his side?
Raymond sheathed the Soul Sword calmly and left the forgotten tomb.
"I will remember your grudges."
With those final words, he traversed the dark passage again. How long had it been? As he emerged from the tomb, the opaque barrier receded like parting mist.
"My lord!"
Gestain, the Guard Captain, rushed forward first. The two Tower Lords and Desia Heli arrived moments later.
"Are you alright?"
Crimson Tower Lord Berenus Kyle asked. The Azure Tower Lord watched with eyes full of questions but kept silent.
"Tell the troops the mist will lift soon—prepare to move out."
Raymond said to Cron, standing a short distance away.
The young noble first wore an incredulous expression, but as the mist truly began to clear, it turned to ecstasy.
"His Highness the 5th Prince has opened the way!"
The Imperial Army commander seized the moment and shouted. The troops cheered.
A month had passed since word reached the Imperial Capital that the 5th Prince, Raymond, had entered the Black Mountains.
The Emperor and the Imperial Family hadn't sat idle. They couldn't send a large search force, but dispatching small groups of Imperial Knights was feasible.
Soon after the news, the Emperor sent skilled Imperial Knights to the Crayer Marquisate and ordered border troops to provide three special units. The knights split into three teams, entered the Black Mountains with the special units, and began searching for the 5th Prince.
"Sir Pelton, we're almost at the destination."
At his fellow knight's voice, Imperial Knight Pelton shook off his drowsiness and looked up.
Even in the north's biting winds, the fatigue from reduced sleep while patrolling the Black Mountains made it hard to fight the urge to doze.
"This is definitely the temporary base the messenger mentioned?"
"Certain of it, Sir Pelton."
His comrade replied with firm conviction, but Pelton's mind wouldn't settle.
Cron, eldest son of the Crayer Marquis, had sent the message two weeks ago.
Two weeks in the Black Mountains was time enough for a man to lose his life.
Pelton grew more afraid. An ominous thought circled his mind: the 5th Prince's corpse might await them at journey's end.
"We should pick up the pace a bit."
His fellow knights nodded in agreement.
The special unit quickened their march and soon reached the vicinity of the temporary base where Cron's infantry was stationed.
The 5th Prince's banner flew atop the central tower. Seeing it, Pelton sighed in relief. If the prince had fallen, they wouldn't leave his banner up.
"Sir Pelton? Could you send the orders via messenger?"
At the infantry officer's request, Pelton dispatched a messenger with the command scroll.
Verification didn't take long. The gates opened, and Pelton entered with his men.
"Where is His Highness the 5th Prince?"
Pelton sought the prince immediately upon entry. It was only natural—he'd come to this barren, perilous Black Mountains for him.
"At the training grounds."
An Imperial Army officer ran up to report. Pelton ordered his men to rest and requested a guide.
The two led the way, followed by a few more Imperial Knights sent by the Emperor.
"Kraaaah!"
Entering the open area used as a temporary training ground, a sharp scream rang out, followed by the sight of a burly man tumbling across the frozen-hard ground.
"His Highness the 5th Prince!"
As the dust settled and his face appeared, Pelton cried out in shock. Covered in dirt, clad in light leather armor, it was none other than the 5th Prince, Raymond.
Pelton had guarded the Emperor at the banquet hall's center of carnage and seen the prince's face before anyone else.
The man now sprawled before him was thinner than in his memory, more robustly built, but unmistakably the 5th Prince.
"Ugh... If that had been a real sword, my arm would've been gone."
With a brief grumble, the 5th Prince, Raymond, stood. He brushed the dirt from his leather armor roughly and turned to Pelton.
"A new face."
After acquiring the Soul Sword, Raymond had been immersed in sword training with Gestain to wield it effectively. He'd heard nothing of the Imperial Knights arriving with reinforcements.