Chapter 133
Chapter 133
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: The Wind from the West
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‘Operation change.’
Originally, I’d planned to give the God’s Knights guarding Ragnarok a single blow and then leave. But now that I’d encountered this fragment of memory here, I couldn’t just pass them by.
“Bring me the one called Mayer. Or this guy dies.”
I said to the Rothschild guards bearing the emblem of the golden lion.
Their formation encircled us like a ring, and their movements were far from ordinary. They advanced slowly without slackening their killing intent, as if willing to abandon their commander just to capture me.
‘They don’t need this guy’s life, huh.’
Well, if they were guarding Midgard, they were probably a low- or mid-tier knight order. In that case, their loyalty to superiors wouldn’t be that high, and with the higher-up gone, they’d just get a shot at promotion.
I twisted my sword and severed the knight’s neck.
Serack.
Then I shoved him forward and charged at the knights.
Dudududu—
The Rothschild knights drew their swords in unison.
“Fix bayonets!”
Ordering bayonets while swords were already drawn? From that one command, I knew they lacked real battlefield experience.
Lightning (Aura-Mana Fusion)
Red aura and blue mana swirled around the blade like an embrace, gathering at the tip before emitting a vivid purple glow and radiating intense energy in all directions.
Shwaaaaa—.
Anyone who could use aura would sense death the moment they saw that light. Those who couldn’t would simply freeze in inexplicable terror, their minds blank.
But their reactions didn’t matter to me.
Either way, the instant they saw that light, they died.
“This is the sword of the Strange Family.”
A sharp wind-whistling sound echoed where my sword passed.
Bwoong!
The afterimage trailed the blade, followed by the tearing of space itself.
Kwajik— Kwajijijik!
A crescent slash. A single stroke aimed at the enemy.
In one blow, I cleaved through ten knights’ torsos, then plunged my sword into the heart of the last one standing, halting its motion.
Plunk!
A faint purple light glimmered from their bodies.
“...Disappear.”
Kwaang!
The shocked knights’ corpses flew in all directions. Despite wearing heavy full plate mail that should have made it hard to control their bodies, they looked as light as wooden puppets played with by children.
“Bring Mayer. If you don’t heed my words, everyone here dies today.”
The remaining God’s Knights exchanged troubled glances.
There were about a hundred of them, by rough count. If their commander had been competent, they might have stalled me. But...
‘Not possible now.’
They were strong individually, but without proper orders. As I readied myself to charge again, one knight from behind raised his voice.
“General Mayer is away at the moment.”
Turning, I saw a young man with silver hair falling to his shoulders and a refined, noble face.
“Where is he?”
“First, let us exchange names. I am Pendragon, guardian knight of the Rothschilds defending Midgard’s entrance.”
“Pendragon?”
“Indeed.”
Dragon, huh. A name I wanted to kill.
But I suppressed the impulse and replied.
“Berddin of the Strange Family.”
“Berddin... of the Strange Family?! Ah, no, then you’re the new family head who succeeded Roys. Sir Berddin?”
“Yes.”
Pendragon sheathed his sword, bowed politely, relaxed his guard, approached, and extended both hands in salute.
“It’s an honor to meet you. I don’t know what offense we’ve given, but I apologize first.”
I grabbed Pendragon by the hair and yanked his head up forcibly.
Thwack.
“Save your apologies. Bring the guy named Mayer.”
Pendragon raised both hands to his shoulders with a troubled expression.
“S-Sir Berddin. I don’t know why you’re so angry, but please calm down first? If you wish to meet General Mayer, I can arrange it.”
“Arrange it?”
“Yes. He’s a commander in my superior unit. It won’t be easy, but I can get in touch.”
How could this guy stay so calm? Even after I revealed I was from the Strange Family, he treated me with respect.
Even though the situation demanded hostility.
I released his hair.
“I can’t understand it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your attitude. Those higher-ups are dying to have my head. Yet you face me with such a serene expression.”
“...By higher-ups, you mean the main family’s heirs?”
“Yes. Heirs or family head, I don’t know. But it’s clear you Rothschilds are after me.”
Pendragon shook his head.
“I’m sorry, but we’re different. We may share the name, but I’m a citizen of Midgard, not Ragnarok.”
“A citizen of Midgard?”
“Yes. As you know, Sir Berddin, Ragnarok and Midgard are distinct nations. I don’t know what the main family direct descendants are doing up there, but we collaterals have no desire to feud with the Strange Family.”
Absurd.
If the main family declared the Strange Family enemies, how could collaterals not follow?
It’d be tantamount to rebellion.
“So you won’t obey the main family’s orders?”
“If our intentions don’t align, no. We bear the Rothschild name, but strictly speaking, we’re not blood kin, so no need.”
“Not blood kin?”
“Yes. Outsiders probably don’t know, but Midgard’s people only took the Rothschild name—no mixed blood.”
This was new to me.
Common sense dictated that even a drop of blood was needed to be accepted into a family—especially a massive one like the Rothschilds, children of gods, bearing that name.
The more we talked, the deeper my doubts grew.
After a long conversation, confirming no hostility, I sheathed my sword and moved to a secluded spot.
The lower branches of the World Tree Yggdrasil, in a forest village where Midgard’s people gathered.
In a small church there, I heard something unbelievable.
“You’re saying the people here are rebels?”
Pendragon freely revealed his unit’s structure.
The Rothschilds’ massive military force called the God’s Knights, and among them, the lowest guard unit at Midgard’s entrance.
‘Pendragon Knight Order.’
Pendragon was proud enough to name his knights after himself.
“Not rebels—revolutionaries, if you please. History will judge based on the outcome, but that’s how we see ourselves.”
“Why tell me this? If I spread it, the Rothschild upper echelons will send troops to kill you immediately.”
“Sir Berddin wouldn’t, but if so, that’s my fate.”
“Fate?”
“Yes. Meeting you today must be the gods’ will, no?”
He clutched the cross around his neck and continued.
“Has my confession made you uncomfortable, Sir Berddin?”
“No, your very existence does.”
“My existence?”
“Yes. Frankly, it’s hard to believe you. Even if I do, I’ll attack Midgard to achieve my goal. Otherwise, there’s no point in coming here.”
Who reveals they’re rebels to a first-time enemy leader and asks for help?
I didn’t know about others, but his words rang false to me.
“Then we’ll have to fight for survival. But remember this one thing.”
“What?”
“Even if Rothschild and Strange go to war, we won’t flee or have the power to fight you.”
“What does that mean? You’re the God’s Knights guarding Midgard.”
“We’re called that. Like toothless wolves, though—powerless.”
“Toothless wolves?”
“Yes. You saw fighting our knights, Sir Berddin—”
Pendragon tsked with a wry smile.
“The higher-ups beheaded all our unit commanders. And crippled the skilled ones by cutting off limbs. Claiming we were plotting rebellion.”
What now?
“So they know you’re plotting rebellion?”
“No, no one thought that then. The new family head did it on a whim.”
“New family head?”
“Yes. A few years ago, the new head said: ‘I can feed the dog guarding the house, but I won’t unchain one that bites the master.’”
A dog that bites the master.
Sounds familiar.
“They must distrust us for swearing eternal loyalty to the previous head.”
“Previous head?”
“Yes, the one now imprisoned... our lord.”
I had questions but held back. Family head changes and faction purges were predictable.
“I don’t know what you want, Sir Berddin, but if needed, we’ll prepare to fight Strange.”
“......”
“The outcome’s obvious, though.”
I rested my chin, pondering.
If true, what could happen? If false, what did he want?
I calculated gains and losses for both scenarios.
“If I make your Midgard revolution succeed, what can you offer me?”
Pendragon’s eyes widened as he shot to his feet.
“...Everything. Anything we can do, we will.”
Everything.
The answer of someone with nothing to lose.
“Then, first, summon Mayer here. Do that, and I’ll believe you.”
I traced the Strange emblem on my chest.
“I’ll retake Ragnarok. For those you swore loyalty to.”
Two days since the Strange-Glazer war began. The clash between the two families that would reshape the continent stalled more than expected.
They’d anticipated a blaze consuming a nation overnight.
Both sides held back, frustrating those hoping to profit.
Finally, the shadowy backers intervened directly.
“Imbue the mages with the power of waves, Lord Albus.”
At Archbishop Juda’s command, the Five Pillars—who’d operated quietly—moved in earnest.
“Yes, Archbishop.”