Chapter 53
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: The Doll's Dream
In a cabin a short distance from a village on the eastern outskirts.
A knight in leather armor, possessing outstanding looks, embraced his mother.
"I'll return as a splendid knight."
The white-haired old mother smiled warmly and took a sword from a box, handing it to her son.
"It's a sword your father used long ago, so it's not the best. But the village blacksmith polished it up, so it should be usable."
"Father's sword?"
"Yes, I've told you many times. Your father may not have made a name for himself, but he was a fairly renowned knight in the city."
"Ah!"
"If you've inherited your father's blood, you'll surely become a fine knight, Carlson. Your mother believes in you without a doubt."
"...Yes."
The knight left home.
His mother waved a small handkerchief at his retreating back.
Neither wore a sad expression.
The reason for his departure was far too positive and clear.
'Commissioned into the Imperial Army.'
A rural knight from the boondocks had been accepted as an officer candidate in the Imperial Knight Order.
He was the very picture of a dragon rising from a puddle.
His steps as he left home were incredibly light.
'Am I finally a proper knight?'
Carlson headed to the city with a joyful heart.
And so began his life as an Imperial knight.
But being a proper knight was far from smooth sailing, unlike what he'd imagined.
Despite enduring grueling daily training, his skills weren't improving as much as he'd hoped.
Up until leaving home, he'd thought himself a genius who could become an officer in no time.
Yet three years passed, and he remained stuck as a candidate.
"Damn it."
On the day he failed his fourth promotion exam, he despaired over his situation and prayed.
"God, why am I even here?"
His mother's words from before he left home echoed in his ears like a hallucination.
'Your father was a splendid knight.'
Mother, if that were true, we wouldn't be living in the outskirts—we'd be in the city.
'If you've inherited your father's blood, you'll surely become a fine knight.'
No, the path of a fine knight is far too arduous.
My father, who likely died on the battlefield without me ever seeing his face, was probably just an average knight.
That's why I'm still a candidate after three years.
'Your mother believes in you without a doubt.'
The knight bowed his head.
Tears gathered at Carlson's chin and dripped down.
At nineteen years old, he still hadn't become a mid-level knight.
The wall between 3-star and 4-star was impossibly high.
While he struggled in what was called the devilish promotion bottleneck, his peers surged ahead to higher ranks.
His worries deepened.
Should he give up on knighthood and return home now?
He was still young enough to switch to becoming an adventurer.
"Hey!"
Someone called out to Carlson.
Turning, he saw a woman in a blue dress vigorously shaking an apple atop her head.
"Want to eat this?"
She threw the apple with all her might.
Carlson stepped forward and caught it with his hand outstretched.
Thud.
"P-Princess?"
"Don't cry—cheer up!"
The princess smiled brightly without another word and left.
Carlson stared at her retreating figure for a long while before taking a big bite of the apple.
Crunch.
"...It's delicious."
Mabel, the Fourth Princess of the Sirian Duchy in the Imperial southern borderlands.
This was their first encounter in his memory.
After that day, the princess visited Carlson several more times.
Each time, he managed his expression and bowed in greeting.
He couldn't show weakness to the lord's daughter.
Someday, he would become her guardian knight.
'Someday.'
One day, the princess pulled out a ragged doll a bit smaller than her palm.
"My mother gave me this when I was little. It's a lucky doll."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, ever since I got it, only happy things have happened to me."
"I see."
"So take it to your exam this time. I'll lend it to you until you pass!"
"Ah, no. It's fine."
"What's fine? Don't fail again and cry—take it!"
The princess stuffed the doll into Carlson's arms. He unwittingly accepted it and replied.
"Understood."
"See you later. Next time, pass with flying colors and become my guardian knight!"
"...Yes."
From that day, Carlson intensified his training.
To a level so harsh that other candidates couldn't endure.
A year passed, and Carlson grew stronger than anyone could compare.
And the moment he'd awaited arrived.
"Magnus Carlson, I hereby appoint you as the 3rd Knight Commander of the Purple Rabbit Knight Order."
Carlson's knight commander appointment ceremony took place.
"I accept the command."
Five years after arriving in the city, he became an officer.
If he'd risen through the ranks on the battlefield—decurion, centurion, chiliarch—it would have taken at least a decade.
At just twenty, not only becoming an officer but a knight commander was astonishing.
Afterward, Carlson enjoyed happy days in the Imperial Army.
He even had leisure to lie down and rest in the training grounds.
'I wonder if the princess is doing well.'
He needed to return the doll soon.
Amid his busyness, he occasionally thought of the princess tossing apples in the training grounds.
But visiting her directly was impossible.
How could a mere mid-level knight approach the lord's daughter first? He could only wait for her to come.
One day, amid these prosperous days, an order came to Carlson.
"Find the Fourth Princess, Mabel."
The princess who had shown him kindness had been captured by the enemy nation.
Carlson accepted without hesitation.
"Leave it to me."
He immediately assembled a unit and launched the operation to rescue Mabel.
Her captors hadn't fled far.
They were surely hiding in the jungle, waiting for the border to open.
Carlson's prediction was spot on.
In a small temple deep in the jungle, he found the enemy assassins who took the princess.
They fought back using her as a hostage, but were quickly subdued.
Thus, Carlson rescued the princess. As they tried to exit the temple,
"Sorry, Commander."
Stab!
His adjutant stabbed him in the back with a sharp dagger.
The blade pierced between the armor plates with a chilling sound.
"W-Why, you..."
The adjutant grabbed the princess's wrist and replied.
"This country is already finished."
"...Who put you up to this?"
"No idea about that. But if you die, the princess lives. So go quietly."
The princess screamed desperately.
"Knight!"
The adjutant struck the back of her head, knocking her out.
Thud.
He hoisted her over his shoulder and left Carlson with final words.
"Even if you survive, don't return. Death awaits your family."
Afterward, the adjutant, princess, and all soldiers departed.
Carlson collapsed alone in the temple, wearing a hollow smile.
'Is this why I worked so hard—just to die here?'
Myriad thoughts flashed through his mind.
His mother waiting in his hometown.
The promise to become a splendid knight.
Missions unfulfilled.
Dreams unrealized.
"Ha..."
"Am I dying like this?"
Carlson forced his upper body up and looked around.
"...Is no one there?"
His voice returned as an empty echo.
"Damn it!"
Due to blood loss? As time passed, his vision blurred and his mind grew hazy.
In his narrowing field of view, the princess's faint figure conjured hallucinations.
'You must become a knight commander and protect me.'
Carlson pulled the doll from his bosom and pitched forward.
"I have to return it."
Thud.
He wandered in chaos for a long time. His past and dreamed future jumbled together.
Only after encountering his pre-departure self amid the wandering did he regain his senses.
'I can't die like this.'
He had to stand somehow.
He closed his eyes and prayed fervently.
"...Please."
In the holy name, grant me a chance to save the princess.
'If I can fulfill that will.'
I will follow your will, whatever it may be.
Crack!
Two horns protruded from the dying Carlson's forehead.
"Argh!"
Crack, crack!
Carlson's skin and flesh peeled away entirely, his entrails spilling onto the ground, leaving only bones.
"Aaaargh!"
Then, metal chunks flew from somewhere and adhered to his body, forming armor.
Clank, clank clank clank!
The one who taught me chess in the past once said this.
'Move the king busily, the pawns leisurely.'
This went against basic chess common sense. Conventionally, you keep the king safe and send pawns forward to fight.
'The game ends when the king dies.'
So the king belongs in a spot enemies can't target. This holds true not just in games but on real battlefields.
Moreover, the 'king' on the chessboard is in a restricted position surrounded by other pieces—how could it move busily?
I didn't understand his intent back then.
But with time, I came to grasp what he meant.
"Come."
I stood at the forefront, leaving all party members behind, facing every approaching gargoyle.
Whoosh—
Boom!
One swing per gargoyle.
Of course, enemy attacks didn't faze me. The moment they struck with their erected claws, I focused aura there to block.
'Good.'
The one who taught me chess probably wasn't just talking about the game.
This time, things invisible in my past life came into view.
With those walling me in gone, I could finally judge correctly.
The 'guardian knights (pawns)' always watching me as Father's eyes.
The 'priests (bishops)' inciting war in God's name.
The 'Imperial Army (knights)' scheming continental hegemony using young me.
And the 'butler (rook)' of Strange Castle, confining me under pretense of protection.
Finally, 'Katarina (queen)' sowing discord between me and my siblings at Father's side.
In this life, I walk my path unhindered by them. Thanks to that, my growth is far swifter than before.
Boom!
After felling all charging gargoyles, I crooked a finger at the Dead Lord.
"Your turn now."
The Dead Lord drew his sword to face me.
Clank.
As the worn hilt left the sheath, green aura like thorny vines wrapped the blade.
Shrrr.
"Not bad."
The creature began to move.
Thud.
Just one step forward, yet killing intent crushed down like a full-body vise.
Even Rox, bearer of divine blood, averted his gaze unwittingly—what immense power?
"Your turn."
The Dead Lord growled lowly.
I nodded slightly at him, then gestured for Cynthia to step forward.
Step.
Cynthia advanced one step.
The Dead Lord tilted his head.
"What trick is this? Didn't you want to fight me?"
"You'll know soon enough. Move already."
He hesitated seconds before stepping forward again.
I mirrored by advancing Cynthia identically. Soon, they met at the chessboard's center.
'Victory.'
I didn't need to step in. The Dead Lord froze upon facing Cynthia, then knelt, bowing to her.
Thud.
"...Why are you here?"