Chapter 319: The Tin Knight and the Myth Reborn
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 319: The Tin Knight and the Myth Reborn
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there was a knight.
He was an immensely powerful, valiant, and loyal knight.
Everyone envied the Queen of Ashes, who received the loyalty of such a knight.
But what the people did not know…
…was that the Queen of Ashes, in truth, secretly resented this knight.
When the knight returned, having lost an arm after defeating the blood-soaked butterfly, the Queen said:
“You have achieved a feat no one in the countless kingdoms could. My knight, take some time to recover.”
The knight shook his head.
“Even now, many are fighting on the front lines. My lord, I beseech you, send me out again.”
The Queen sighed, and seeing no other choice, granted the knight's request.
When the knight returned, having lost a leg after defeating the mole that wielded inexhaustible weapons, the Queen said:
“You have comforted the souls of the dead that no one else could soothe. My knight, leave the rest to others and rest.”
The knight shook his head.
“The weight of the blood that has been shed is still too heavy. My lord, I beseech you, send me out again.”
The Queen shook her head, and seeing no other choice, granted the knight's request.
When the knight returned, his body no longer able to properly wield even mana after defeating the serpent that toyed with the minds of others, the Queen said:
“You have instilled hope in the eyes of the people, which were once filled only with despair. My knight, your existence is like a beacon. Guard the rear from now on.”
The knight shook his head.
“If I do not act now, the embers we have so painstakingly kindled will be extinguished. I beseech you, send me out again.”
With a somber expression, the Queen, seeing no other choice, granted the knight's request.
When the knight returned, half a corpse after fighting against the proud and tyrannical evil dragon, the Queen said grievously:
“Stop now, my knight. You have done more than enough. At the very least, please use the rest of your life for yourself.”
The knight, now only a soul, pleaded with the Queen.
“O great Queen of Ashes. My lord, who is worthy of all my loyalty. I still have work to do.”
The Queen refused time and again, but the knight was adamant.
And the cries from the front lines, the voices begging for salvation, were too immense to break the knight's stubbornness.
In the end, the Queen granted his request, and the most renowned artisans from all over the land dedicated themselves to creating a new body for the knight.
A body that felt no pain or fatigue, that could heal itself even when damaged, and whose mana would never run out as long as it was within the Queen's barrier.
A being that seemed born for the sole purpose of fighting.
The prototype of what would later be called the magic doll was born.
The knight, who did not stop fighting even after losing his flesh, finally defeated the dragon.
Four powers from the earth, including the knight.
Four angels sent down from the heavens.
Thus, the eight generals were defeated, and the war ended in their victory.
And they all lived happily ever after.
…Or so one would wish.
*
In the dark of night, before the dawn.
Eight shadows were racing in different directions.
The fastest among them, moving with an elegant grace, was a woman.
A fluttering green dress. Shoes of a unique design with split heels. Her red hair was like a single rose, and the dignity and splendor she carried could turn even an empty field into a theatrical stage.
If this had been a thousand years ago, the powerful figures and statesmen of every nation would have been paralyzed with fear at the sight of her.
For she was the Butterfly of the Underground, the Fairy of Fresh Blood, who had ignored all defenses and formations, leaping through space to assassinate key figures and military commanders one after another.
“…”
The fairy did not know why she was here.
Within her clouded thoughts, a single command echoed, as if someone were pushing her from behind: kill the humans, and kill any who interfere.
It was a task familiar to the fairy.
However, it was not one she enjoyed.
And for good reason—it was boring.
A fight should be spectacular, a ball should have dignity. Crushing those with no power or qualification like insects was a worthless and futile act.
But the option to 'ignore the command because I don't like it' was not available to the fairy now. The chains called 'mask' bound her tightly.
Her power to traverse space was unparalleled in terms of movement, so it did not take long to find her target.
Having completely shaken off the black serpent that pursued her, she discovered a city shrouded in the darkness of night.
The fairy did not know it, but the city was named Glückstadt.
It was bustling and large enough to be called a city, but it had no other distinguishing features.
For a fairy who had lived through the age of myths, destroying such a city was an all too simple task.
Unable to hide her boredom, the fairy was about to attempt another spatial jump.
Suddenly, the fairy's intuition sounded an alarm.
Trusting her instincts, she turned around, and her eyes widened behind her mask.
Far away in the distant night sky.
A white meteor was approaching her.
Written down, it might sound like a very romantic and dreamlike scene, but the actual situation was a million light-years away from serene.
“—Acceleration! Acceleration! Acceleration!”
And for good reason, for the meteor's true identity was a madwoman who even the black witch found exasperating.
A magic circle accelerated her, and in the midst of that acceleration, a new one would form ahead. Touching the new circle increased her speed yet again. It was a feat any sensible Enchantress would dismiss, saying, ‘Theoretically possible, perhaps, but no human body could withstand such speeds.’ But this was the work of a madwoman who would nonchalantly retort, ‘Why not just endure it with a sturdy body and protective magic? If the spell breaks and I'm turned to pulp? Well, bold attempts always come with risks. Nothing new there.’
The result was so violent, it would have been more believable to say a small meteor had crashed.
KWWAAAAAAAANG!
The ground was gouged out, and a shockwave swept through the area.
As the fairy, who had dodged the attack with a graceful, dance-like movement, looked ahead, two figures emerged from the dust at the meteor's impact site.
One was a knight holding a massive spear. The other was a girl, impeccably dressed in a white suit with a magician's hat and a cane.
To the fairy who watched her with a gaze mixed with curiosity and caution, the girl, Gale Elilaz, bowed deeply in greeting.
“Please forgive my boisterous entrance. I felt I had to do at least this much to catch up with someone as elusive as you. And I'm glad you're unharmed. If you were an opponent who could be dealt with by an attack of this level, I would have been quite disappointed.”
Gale's greeting was full of dignity and restraint, and her voice was filled with courtesy.
The content of her words, however, was undeniably insane.
But Gale, a heavyweight in both good and bad ways, paid no mind to such trivialities.
She said,
“Would you care for a dance? Borealis—the Fairy of Butterflies?”
“…”
The fairy's eyes assessed the white-clad girl and the knight beside her.
The challengers before her were undoubtedly skilled.
Her original self might have been different, but the current fairy was under a restriction: the more of her true power she revealed, the shorter her active time became.
To follow the command to kill people, it would be more efficient to flee from these challengers and slaughter others.
Her decision was swift.
The fairy drew one leg back, bent the other knee, and lightly lifted her skirt. She looked just like a young lady curtsying at a ball.
As if understanding her intent, a smile graced the challenger's lips.
The fairy, too, smiled beneath her mask.
From a human perspective, the fairy was evil.
And she herself did not deny being evil.
However, evil has its own aesthetics.
To be invited to a dance so passionately, only to ignore it and go crush insects with her heels—that was unthinkable for the fairy.
Kill the humans.
While she could not ignore the fundamental premise of the command, the current fairy still had enough stubbornness to choose the method.
The plains near Glückstadt.
Fairy Borealis vs. Gale Elilaz & the White Knight
*
There was a man.
He was short, yet his limbs and torso were thick and sturdy.
His appearance was strikingly similar to the dwarves of legend.
However, unlike other dwarves, who are generally known for their hearty and boisterous nature, this man's aura was extremely serious, so calm as to feel almost somber.
The man was a blacksmith, a scholar, a strategist, and also a quartermaster more excellent than any other.
During the war a thousand years ago, his mere presence allowed the people of the underground to move without securing supply lines, ignoring the need for a baggage train.
And this dwarf, despite the mask's command to commit slaughter, was not running about or searching for victims. Instead, he was quietly absorbed in his work in a rocky area.
The mask, too, did not rush the dwarf, but let him do as he pleased. It wasn't that the mask was broken. It had simply acknowledged that the dwarf's actions were in line with its command.
A moment later, what unfolded around the dwarf was… an array of siege weapons so vast their numbers were hard to grasp.
There was something resembling a catapult. There was something resembling a cannon.
Not just one, but dozens of such things appeared in a place where only stones and rocks had been, creating a sense of absurdity.
The dwarf had not created them anew.
They were the weapons he had used in the war long ago, items left abandoned in a subspace upon his death, now brought out once more.
The subspace abilities used by the masters of the ‘Gloves’ were originally just a fraction of his own power.
In the deepest depths they could not reach, a literal mountain of armaments he had personally crafted one by one over an immense period of time lay piled up.
It had taken time to re-establish the severed connection to the subspace, but now that the link was complete, he could draw out the armaments as if they were his own limbs.
At the dwarf's signal, the siege weapons he had deployed automatically entered a pre-firing state.
Now, with a mere gesture, a barrage of all kinds would simultaneously pulverize the nearby towns and cities.
Exposed to a long-range attack they couldn't even see, the humans would be massacred without even knowing what hit them, let alone fighting back.
Once the destruction was sufficient, he would simply store the siege weapons again and repeat the process of redeploying them elsewhere.
Beneath the mask, the dwarf's eyes were indifferent. While some of the generals had their ups and downs when dealing with humans, to the dwarf, humans were neither objects of hatred nor affection.
He fought them when necessary, killed them when necessary. That was all.
He was just about to give the signal to fire.
SHWIIIIIIING!
Something seemed to flash far away in the sky, and then a massive, pillar-like object fell, smashing one of his siege weapons.
“Hmph.”
The dwarf's eyes narrowed. With his keen eye, he noticed that what had destroyed his creation was not a simple pillar, but a giant arrow.
The dwarf's gaze found a golden-winged monkey watching him from high in the sky.
His mind raced.
Considering the angle at which the ballista bolt had fallen and the monkey's position, he took out a magical telescope and observed the estimated point of origin.
There, standing with a golden ballista, was a witch with pigtails, a lavishly puffed-out skirt like an umbrella, and a parasol, exuding a bourgeois aura from head to toe.
The witch, perhaps realizing she was being observed through the golden monkey, flinched.
The dwarf did not know the witch's name was Franka Aglaia.
Nor did he know that she had been staying in the kingdom of Lowefelt, wondering if she too could buy one of the eight sacred treasures with money, and that she had entered a combat stance, annoyed, after receiving Dorothea's corpse messenger.
However, the unusual number of trunks around her,
and the overwhelmingly larger number of golden monkeys,
made one thing clear: what was about to unfold was closer to a ‘war’ than a ‘battle’.
The corners of the dwarf's perpetually stoic mouth turned up ever so slightly, an almost imperceptible change.
Lowefelt and the Great Rocky Area.
Dwarf Haiden vs. Franka Aglaia & 500 Golden Monkeys.