Rozalin von Lucien
The knights and soldiers under Helian von Sargus, the Sword Star and one-eyed knightess of Cheokan, were elites without peer. Hardened through countless melee battles, they boasted combat prowess that surpassed even the Valtenstein detachment. Their refined martial skills and experience. Their tight yet flexible coordination. Their ironclad endurance, focusing on training even amid murderous blizzards. They were the subordinates who had guarded the northern reaches of the Theodor Holy Empire against the Eisenreich Colonial Empire's brutal expansionism. These elite troops, abandoned by their homeland solely for their commoner blood, still possessed formidable strength.
“Hup!”
“Raaah!”
The knights swung their wooden swords with short shouts. Kailun parried every attack while thrusting out the two wooden swords gripped in his hands.
What the hell kind of strength is this! My palms are numb from gripping the hilts!
One hit and my bones would shatter!
It was just sparring with wooden swords, but the heat and ferocity exceeded real combat. Especially when Kailun unleashed his twin blades, the fierce whooshes they carved through the air instilled fear and intimidation.
Crack-!
Craaack-!!
Violent clash echoed. It was hard to believe these were the sounds of wooden swords colliding—thunderous booms unfit for mock weapons.
The Sword Star's knights pressed their relentless chain attacks against Kailun. In response to their resolute display, Kailun gradually ramped up his power and speed, seizing the initiative.
“Now!”
“Knights, fall back!”
As the exchange heated up, the knights withdrew. Soldiers filled the gap seamlessly. Their advance and retreat evoked the tide's ebb and flow—masterful maneuvers. The soldiers bought time for the knights to prepare their next assault, maintaining encirclement and linkage. Knights handled the main offense, soldiers the support and auxiliary roles. It was the Theodor Holy Empire's model tactic, centering elite knight orders as the core force. Its proven efficiency and success rate made it standard doctrine.
True to form, the knights' and soldiers' polished coordination completely sealed off Kailun's offense and movements.
“Grah!”
“Sir Taylor!”
But even flawless chains had flaws. No decisive blow to overwhelm the target in one stroke. Prolonged engagements favored the enemy—the risk of their patterns being read grew. Kailun shredded the repeating links with a furious barrage at the charging knights.
“Yes! Now that's core firepower!
In the end, this was their limit. As he lowered his twin wooden swords, Kailun spotted a dashing shadow. The eye of the storm—the key player. Genuine exhilaration surged through him as he stepped forward alongside his blades.
“She wasn't there a moment ago... Even surrendered troops can't be late to muster.”
“……”
The core striker delivering the killing blow was a knightess in her early twenties. Neatly bound dark brown hair. A black eyepatch covering half her face. And swordsmanship as explosive and merciless as a storm, without a hint of hesitation. Clearly, the one the Sword Star's knights and soldiers trusted implicitly.
They showed surprise at her sudden entry but responded to her bold assault with unbreakable solidarity.
Not your average skill. Not quite Zikfried von Kreuz level, but far superior to those wastrel guards shadowing the Sword Duke's heir. At least vice-captain of a knight order, if not chief knight.
The Sword Star's knightess charged forward boldly, thrusting her wooden sword. For the first time since the spar began, Kailun countered her offense using both blades fully.
Kagagak-.
Friction screeched as wooden swords crossed. These well-worn practice blades seemed ready to snap.
Kailun swung his twins wide, unleashing heavy shockwaves. As if anticipating it, the knightess swiftly retreated, evading the aftermath.
Looks like nobility-born... but what the hell with all those scars?
Not just the scars hidden by her black eyepatch. Her nape. Shoulders and forearms. Grotesque sword marks etched everywhere. Undoubtedly, more lurked on concealed skin.
These weren't ordinary battle scars from countless brushes with death. On her pale flesh, they stood like hideous brands—traces of chained slashes in an instant.
If Leonora Elua Edelgard hadn't been the one who slew the Sword Star, I'd suspect Eisenreich torture. These are deep gashes bordering on torture. Delayed treatment would've meant fatal blood loss. Unless... they weren't from the battlefield.
Did she notice Kailun staring at her scars? The knightess bit her lip hard and gripped her wooden sword tighter.
* * *
Rozalin von Lucien. Chief knight of the Theodor Holy Empire. Disciple of the Sword Star. Heiress of the Lucien barony.
A knightess from a middling third-rate noble house who rose through the ranks by earning the Sword Star's recognition for her superhuman talent and effort.
The polar opposite of me, who'd rolled on the frontlines for eight years without promotion?
Disciple of the Yellow Path 12 Palaces. A solid path to court knight appointment.
But Helian fell to the frost invaders breaching the front, his forces routed. Her smooth road shattered.
Unable to protect her master and superior, she bore the dishonor—and fell to prisoner status. Even returning to the Holy Empire meant lifelong scorn and condemnation.
Rozalin von Lucien... Rozalin... Rozalin. Wasn't the knightess guarding the Steel Lorelei named Rozalin?
If the story of the original work, "I Will Protect Your Empire," had unfolded as scripted, Rozalin should've been assigned as bodyguard to the heroine Zigrinde von Levanfalt.
But the plot twisted. Because of some guy exploited by the heroine.
Instead of the Eisenreich front, the heroine and hero moved to the Hanzerbalt City Union front. Rozalin ended up a prisoner of the Eisenreich.
Helian's death was fated, but in the original, Zigrinde on the Eisenreich front rallied his routed remnants? Through that, Rozalin got appointed as Zigrinde's guard and inherited the Sword Star's legacy...
Hmm. I wrecked her pitiful life.
If she'd joined the heroine as scripted, her body might've stayed intact. With recommendations from the heroes revering Zigrinde, she'd have climbed even higher.
“Rozalin's betrayer was her own father, Baron Lucien. Despite barely escaping the Empire's encirclement, he left his safely returned daughter half-dead on the frontlines, fearing scandal for the family and reprimands from the upper echelons.”
“Better to leave her as a war hero who perished gloriously with the Sword Star—her superior and mentor—than a national sinner who failed to protect him.”
After the spar ended.
I visited Leonora's office.
Clink.
The silver-haired beauty offered a warm drink. Mint cocoa—sweet with a cool, refreshing zing.
Mint cocoa? Even for a lowly turncoat general, serving dog food?
I stared sternly at the steaming mint cocoa for a moment. Slowly raising my head, I spotted Leonora sipping hers delicately.
“The Holy Empire prizes honor and justice above all. It doesn't tolerate dishonor or injustice. Baron Lucien probably didn't want to exploit Rozalin's war hero status for his own gain. Maybe he dreamed of court knight prestige, earning nobles' respect and pity.”
“……”
That didn't fly? No rebuttal came. It was entirely plausible for Holy Empire nobility.
It reminded me of that Qing Dynasty tale: a father exiling his miraculously returned daughter again, preferring her remembered as a chaste martyr sacrificed unjustly in chaos. Like Joseon, the Holy Empire obsessed fanatically over honor and pride in hypocritical winds.
“Take good care of Rozalin. She's a true gem, sincerely.”
“Understood, Lady Leonora.”
I felt a twinge of guilt over Rozalin's plight. Answering while picturing the one-eyed knightess, bereft of even faint hope, lost in despair.
“Nothing warms the body like mint cocoa. You must've sweated sparring with the troops.”
“……”
“Drink up. It's getting cold, isn't it?”
“...I'll have some.”
Clink.
I picked up the teaspoon. Stirred the generous mound of pale green cream, melting it into the cocoa.
Rozalin von Lucien