Chapter 5: First Companion (4)
First Comrade (4)
The dim purple hues of dawn seeped slowly through the massive red-arched windows of Eisen Castle's central banquet hall.
The air was so cold it stung with bitterness. Upon the rosewood-carved contract table lay greasy dishes, half-empty wine glasses, and a parchment document stamped with a blood-red seal.
Around the table stood men whose desires and ugliness had eroded their humanity.
"Sign the document, Commander Bernice."
Count Crois, head envoy of the Brünnhilde Kingdom, shoved the parchment forward while ostentatiously displaying the ring bearing the Crown Prince's seal. A bead of cold sweat trickled down his slick cheek. Duke Eisen's sudden demand to move the signing ceremony to dawn had sent him scrambling without even time to properly fasten the golden embroidery on his collar.
"With this, the eternal peace treaty between the Brünnhilde Kingdom and the Empire will be complete. Your noble sacrifice shall be forever recorded in our kingdom's annals as a glorious act."
Quite the grandiose speech for such an oily mouth.
Across from him, the silver-haired knight Eleanor Bernice silently scanned the document's text. The scabbard at her waist stood empty, stripped of Gram, the Dragon Slayer sword that symbolized her position as commander. Her crimson eyes were submerged in deep, chilling darkness.
Behind her stood dozens of Reinhark Knights' core officers clad in cold steel armor, including Vice-Commander Raven. Their bloodshot eyes bulged as if about to burst from their sockets. Their white-knuckled grips on their sword hilts made the leather gloves creak at every joint.
Yet none dared draw their blades. Only because of Eleanor's final command: "Not a single one of you may lay hands on them."
'This ends everything.'
Eleanor slowly picked up the quill. Cold ink soaked the feather's tip. If she alone endured this humiliation, the subordinates who'd fought through the Ten Years War with her and the people of her homeland would survive. Even if her country had abandoned her, she steadied herself—this would be her final duty as a knight.
The instant the quill tip touched the parchment—
CRASH—!
The stained glass window decorating the banquet hall's center exploded into countless shards with an earsplitting roar.
Multicolored glass fragments rained down like crimson blades catching the morning light. Imperial knights in heavy armor and royal guards surrounding the hall simultaneously drew their swords with panicked shouts.
"Ambush—!"
"Protect the Duke! Confirm their disarmament!"
Amid the chaos of screams and shock, a man landed lightly atop the central table, tearing through the shower of glass and howling northern winds.
A mercenary clad in bloodstained leather armor. At his waist hung a cheap, notched sword from dispatching sentries, while one hand clutched a thick stack of parchment documents sealed with red wax.
Caliph.
"What—what is this?! Where did this insane mercenary come from?!"
Duke Eisen, fidgeting nervously in his corner seat, turned ashen instantly. His bulging eyes locked onto the documents in Caliph's hand—the original copies of secret treaties that had vanished from his vault hours earlier.
"Count Crois! Kill him now! Retrieve those documents! Behead that wretch!"
Though the Duke screamed with spittle flying, Caliph merely twisted his lips into a vicious smirk.
Thump. Thump.
Caliph showed no outward sign of the tearing pain from mana recoil deep in his chest. Maintaining an ancient artifact's illusion magic while scaling a ten-meter fortress wall with a mere 3rd Class dantian had his meridians screaming as they swelled to bursting.
Yet his gaze remained that of the Mercenary King who'd once stood at the continent's peak—cold, ruthless, and filled solely with judgment.
Flick—!
Caliph casually tossed the stack of secret treaties with a snap of his wrist. The parchments sliced through the air before tumbling to a stop at Vice-Commander Raven's feet with a soft thud.
"...What is the meaning of this, mercenary."
Eleanor withdrew her quill, glaring at Caliph with frigid crimson eyes. Even unarmed, the terrifying aura of a knight commander radiated from her, pressing down on the hall.
"Step aside. This is no place for some third-rate sellsword to—"
"Shut your empty head for a second, Commander."
Caliph's quiet interruption cut like a blade. His sharp gaze pierced Eleanor's pupils like a drill.
"You're so drunk on playing the noble hero sacrificing herself for her comrades. Instead of wasting breath, why not chew on the paper at your feet and scream."
"What?"
Vice-Commander Raven, having reflexively picked up the parchment, tore open the seal. As his eyes scanned past the Crown Prince's official seal and the Empire's crimson stamp on the first clause, they began shaking uncontrollably.
"This...this can't be...!"
"Can you read? Need me to recite it for you?"
Caliph rested a hand on his hip while coldly pointing at Duke Eisen and Count Crois with his other.
"Official secret treaties between your precious Crown Prince and the Imperial Duke. Term one: hand over Eleanor Bernice, Commander of the Reinhark Knights, as the Duke's concubine."
A silence like spilled ice water filled the hall as Caliph's dry voice continued relentlessly.
"Term two: within three months of securing Eleanor, frame the twelve remaining core officers of the Reinhark Knights for treason, execute them via poison, and confiscate their lands for direct control under the Crown Prince."
"......!"
Eleanor's crimson eyes quaked as if struck by an earthquake. The white-knuckled hand gripping her quill trembled minutely before finally releasing it with a clatter.
"Lies! Slander from a thief's mouth!"
Count Crois screamed with a pallid face, shouting at the Imperial knights.
"Behead this mad mercenary now! Tear his tongue out!"
"As you command!"
Three elite Imperial knights in heavy armor drew their greatswords. With the dull scrape of steel, the 4th Class warriors charged at Caliph from all sides with earth-shaking force.
In a direct mana clash, Caliph's current physical specs were hopelessly outmatched.
Yet he made no move to dodge.
BOOM—!
Exploding the 3rd Class mana gathered at his feet like a small detonation, he kicked up a storm of stone shards from the floor. In the 0.1-second gap as dust and glass obscured the knights' visors—
Shhk— Thud!
Caliph's body slid unnaturally low as he slipped into the first knight's guard. His notched blade found the microscopic gap between the knight's chin and gorget with flawless precision.
Squelch—!
"Ghk...!"
The knight vomited a fountain of blood from his throat without even screaming. Using the recoil from withdrawing his sword, Caliph immediately severed the tendons behind the second knight's knee.
Crack! Squelch!
As the armored knee buckled helplessly, Caliph drove a mana-infused boot mercilessly into the knight's helmet.
CRUNCH—!
The helmet crumpled with the crisp sound of shattering bone, echoing through the hall.
Five seconds. Two of the Imperial envoy's proud elite knights now writhed in pools of their own blood.
"Haa..."
Ignoring the tearing pain in his right shoulder, Caliph flicked blood from his blade before walking toward the stunned Eleanor.
"See now?"
Caliph's voice dripped with vicious cynicism.
"Even if you endure humiliation, the Crown Prince you'd die for already planned to poison your twelve remaining officers. Selling you to some old Duke to curry favor with the Empire while cleaning up the rest of your order."
"......"
"Sacrifice? A noble choice for your comrades? Don't make me laugh. You're just livestock being sold off at full price to your rotten homeland."
Eleanor's lips trembled slightly. A thin trail of blood trickled down her chin from where she'd bitten through.
In that moment, the noble chivalry she'd upheld her entire life—the homeland she'd sworn to serve unto death—shattered utterly before a single parchment and cold reality.
"Those bastards...! Nobles worse than dogs...!"
Behind her, Vice-Commander Raven howled with tears of blood after finishing the documents.
"These sons of bitches...! They deceived us...! Deceived our Commander...!"
The madness and violence the Reinhark Knights had suppressed began blooming in their eyes. The silence that had filled their garrison transformed instantly into bloodthirst that crushed the air in the hall.
"Well, Commander."
Caliph jerked his chin toward Duke Eisen and Count Crois cowering on the floor.
"Will you let yourself be sold to your homeland as some old Duke's plaything? Or will you smash those rotten heads and flip the board entirely? Choose."