Chapter 333: The Tin Knight and the Reviving Myth – Opium & Dracaena (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 333: The Tin Knight and the Reviving Myth – Opium & Dracaena (5)
The People of the underground had to admit their defeat.
Though they had conquered countless nations across the continent, they had failed to seize the Land of Ashes on the continent's eastern edge.
All eight of the valiant and mighty generals met their end.
Borealis, Haiden, Opium, and Dracaena were subjugated by the knight's sword.
Lilium, Dicondra, and Tuberose perished along with the angels, and while Amaryllis was defeated by an angel, that angel also vanished.
The surviving humans cheered.
They wept with joy, celebrating their victory in the war and their survival against the threat of annihilation.
It seemed as though everything would end happily ever after.
But as with all things, after the spectacular climax comes the tedious and cruel cleanup.
The war was over, yet at the same time, it was not.
The main army, led by the King of the Underground, had returned to their homeland through the ‘Gate,’ but the remnants left behind and the creatures the People of the Underground had brought with them like livestock had already multiplied across the continent.
The war of heroes, where transcendent beings clashed, had ended, and a war for survival against waves of mindless magic beasts began.
Facing the surging tide of magic beasts, the knight continued to fight on the front lines.
However, his strength was far weaker than before.
As a result of replacing his body with metal during the successive battles, the knight had become a being who could no longer move without mana.
Thus, he relied on various magic tools for assistance or support from his mage comrades, but most of his companions had died in the previous war or retired due to its aftereffects.
Above all, the Queen of Ashes, who had helped him defeat the mightiest general, Dracaena, was no longer by his side.
Borealis's spatial movement, Lilium's spore contagion, Opium's mental infiltration, Dicondra's transformation, and so on.
Among the generals' abilities were many bizarre powers that could render the entire defensive line useless if they allowed even a single internal breach.
So that those on the front lines could fight without worrying about the rear, the Queen had to maintain a barrier enveloping the entire kingdom throughout the war with the Underground.
The Queen's mana, which could only be described as transcendent, made this possible, but her body was still that of a human.
Just as the knight had continuously defended the front lines by replacing parts of his body, the Queen protected the kingdom by burning away her own lifespan.
One day, as death approached.
The Queen of Ashes summoned the knight and spoke.
“Torwin, my most valiant and loyal knight. Will you not come with me?”
The knight's eyes, like flickering flames, wavered.
But he merely bowed his head in silence.
The Queen gave a bitter smile. Her pale face held a look of resignation, as if she had expected as much.
“Yes, I suppose so. The screams of those still fighting the remnants of the Underground have not ceased in those distant lands. You would never willingly accept rest.”
No longer as a queen, but as a human woman named Veronica, she continued with a lament.
“Torwin Tormund. My knight. My Toto. It is not lonely to die alone. I am only worried about you being left behind.”
“Even as those who remember you, who shared the time when you were human, pass away one by one, you will remain in this land, continuing the fight.”
“Everyone who was with me knows of your nobility. My children, too, will grow up respecting the great deeds you have accomplished. But what about after that?”
The Queen's pale, withered hand caressed the knight's cheek.
The knight could not feel its warmth. His body was already nothing but cold tin.
“I am afraid.”
“I am afraid that one day, the people living in this land might dismiss your great deeds as a mere thing of the past.”
“That my descendants might take for granted the devotion you have offered for the sake of the people.”
“So… when that time comes, please, do not forgive them.”
The knight did not answer.
His nobility would not permit him to agree, yet to refuse would be to deny the Queen's final wish.
All the loyal knight could do was remain silent.
The Queen knew this.
Still, she did not mind.
For her last words were not truly meant for the knight.
The knight, grieving at the sight of his dying master, did not know.
That the apprentice attending the Queen by her side had etched her words deep into her heart.
Dorothea watched, with the complex feelings of an audience member at a play, as a resolute yet eerie light settled upon Nessarose's face.
A short time later, the Queen passed away.
All the vassals and subjects soaked their collars with tears, and the soldiers on the front lines vented their grief by slaughtering magic beasts.
The knight, too, silently swung his sword.
Like a river flowing through a valley, time continued to pass.
The new king who succeeded the Queen faithfully upheld his mother's dying wishes.
He had the knight's great deeds etched into the history books and spread them throughout the kingdom in the form of plays and fairy tales.
The soldiers on the front lines also went through generational changes, but they still showed the knight respect and reverence.
They had grown up hearing of the knight's exploits, and their parents had repeatedly emphasized that they must never forget their gratitude toward him.
There were many people by the knight's side.
Again, time passed.
The new king was awkward around the knight.
He did not know the knight from his human days and thought the stories of the ancient war between transcendent beings were somewhat exaggerated.
Still, because the previous king had repeatedly stressed that he must not forget his gratitude and courtesy toward the knight, he at least showed him respect on the surface.
The number of magic beasts, once disgustingly plentiful, had now dwindled significantly, and the number of soldiers fighting on the front lines also decreased.
The story of the knight's deeds was still told in plays and books, but as it was a tale repeated countless times, it failed to draw much popularity.
Some children whined to their parents that such stories were boring. The adults scolded them, having been told by their own parents that they shouldn't act that way, but it was more out of concern for appearances than any genuine thought for the knight.
Nevertheless, the soldiers who fought alongside him on the front lines, though few in number, showed the knight goodwill and respect.
Nessarose came to the knight and asked.
“—Is this kingdom still a place worthy of your protection?”
The knight nodded.
Nessarose acknowledged his answer and left.
There were still people by the knight's side.
Again, time passed.
The magic beasts had mostly vanished.
The people who had been clustered in the east began to spread across the continent, forming their own nations.
Humanity, which had once united to fight a common enemy, now began to fight amongst themselves.
The Heavenly Realm did not overtly reveal its power, focusing instead on aiding the royal and noble families, so they were not perceived as rivals.
The new king was a man of great ambition.
He believed that the Land of Ashes, which had saved humanity, and his own bloodline, which ruled it, should dominate and govern the entire continent.
The king began to use the sacred treasures offered by the heavens to the mortal world for his own greed.
The king commanded the knight to become his sword and fight, but the knight shook his head.
Feeling displeased, the king began to treat the knight poorly.
Since many still knew the knight's story, he did not treat him harshly in public, but it was possible to spread malicious rumors behind his back.
The battlefields where humans fought humans were seen as places of honor where one could earn merit, but fighting magic beasts was regarded as mere drudgery.
Nessarose came to the knight and asked.
“—Is this kingdom still a place worthy of your protection?”
The knight nodded.
Nessarose stared at the knight silently before letting out a short sigh and leaving.
Now, there were few people by the knight's side.
Again, time passed.
The kingdom, having abandoned its original base in the east and expanded into the center of the continent, was powerful.
It was a kingdom where all of humanity's technology, culture, and knowledge had once gathered. Even with the passage of time, those benefits did not easily fade.
Furthermore, the eight magic tools known as the kingdom's sacred treasures also contributed to its glory.
Upon seizing the power of the continent's strongest, the king grew arrogant.
And at the same time, he began to see the knight as an inconvenience.
For them to become truly great, they alone had to be special.
The story of the knight saving the kingdom and humanity was nothing but a hindrance to them.
Plays featuring the knight were banned.
The books chronicling the knight's legend were burned.
Nessarose came to the knight and asked.
“—Is this kingdom still a place worthy of your protection?”
The knight nodded.
Nessarose scowled deeply, then stomped the ground as if dying of frustration before leaving.
Now, only a handful of people remained by the knight's side.
Again, time passed.
The world was chaotic, yet peaceful.
The kingdom was greedy, but it prospered accordingly.
Magic beasts were no longer a threat to humans, treated at best as slightly stronger animals.
In the shadow of that brilliant light, the knight rusted away.
His body, once crafted with the utmost care by everyone in the kingdom, gradually rusted away amidst endless battles and neglect.
People knew little about the knight and did not know how to speak with him.
No one considered the old, dented, unsightly doll to be special.
No longer able to receive even a proper supply of mana, the knight was left abandoned in one of the old palace's storehouses.
Nessarose came before the knight, who had ceased all activity.
She no longer asked him the question.
She knew full well what his answer would be.
Nor did she infuse him with mana.
If the knight were to regain consciousness, he would surely try to stop her.
All she did was reinforce the storehouse where the knight rested and cast a barrier to prevent malevolent things from disturbing his slumber.
It was a barrier that might have been easily broken if someone came to the castle where the knight stayed, but that would never happen.
Thanks to the disgusting rumors spread by the king, no one ever came near the place where the knight rested.
It was a far too shabby end for the hero who had once saved humanity, but Nessarose thought it was for the best.
That steadfast knight was the kind of man who would take up his sword again if anyone asked for help.
In that case, it was better for him to finally find rest, meeting no one.
And so, the final shackles that had restrained Nessarose—
no, the Witch of the East—were released.
A curse blanketed the kingdom.
A plague spread, and people died vomiting blood and pus.
Spirits swirled around the heads of the self-proclaimed nobles, delivering horrific hallucinations and nightmares day and night.
The army sent to subjugate the Witch of the East never even reached her feet, instead becoming corpses that turned their swords against the very kingdom that had dispatched them.
Blood flowed, corpses rotted, and corruption stained the land.
The kingdom that had basked in radiant glory collapsed at the hands of a single person: a witch who had nurtured her power and fury for hundreds of years.
Again, time passed.
After completing her grand revenge, the Witch of the East was steeped in ennui.
The ungrateful wretches had all been slaughtered by her hand, and those who now called themselves the Kingdom of Ionia had no connection to the royal family she had once served.
Occasionally, those who heard of her infamy would come to subjugate her, but even they became increasingly rare as she spent her time quietly secluded in her hermitage.
The Witch of the East did not forgive those who challenged her, but she was sometimes whimsical.
Sparing a self-proclaimed prince who came seeking a duel one day was one such representative case.
His actions and words were so far removed from the ‘damned royals’ the Witch of the East despised that she simply didn't feel the urge to kill him.
While spending her days in a haze of gray, the Witch of the East suddenly left her hermitage and began to wander the streets.
It was a simple whim, with no great reason. Or perhaps, it was a vague intuition.
And then, the Witch of the East found it.
The royal bloodline of the Kingdom of Ashes that she so despised. The blood of Aschengard.