The Leaping Knight Has Wings (1)

The question had been, ‘Did you go easy on me?’ Of course his body felt lighter now. Back then he hadn’t slept or eaten for days, and both his arms had suffered things he’d rather forget. Nathan thought for a brief moment, then simply let the question slide without answering. Kilika looked as if his professional pride had been wounded, but this was less about consideration and more about sequence. After all, Nathan had asked first.

“Why did you show up? Did your new master send you to drag me back?”

“Hardly. You’re the one who gave us our new nest. We do have a conscience, you know.” Kilika shrugged as if the very idea was ridiculous. Thanks to Nathan, they had nearly died twice in a single day.

“And if we really wanted to bring you back, would we have sent just the two of us—the ones you already beat senseless? The Great Arena’s fancy private troops would have come instead. That woman has plenty of real talent under her.”

Nathan, who still hadn’t fully let go of his suspicion, suddenly became aware of the dampness still clinging to his hand. The axe in his grip was slick with thick, black blood. He tossed the unpleasant object aside. Hodrick, who had reached out thinking it was being returned, awkwardly withdrew his arm. The relief on his face at not having to touch it was obvious.

“Then why?”

“We just stamped the contract and got sent to our quarters, so I said I was going out for some air and came to see Benny. I owed her a bit from way back when I stayed at the Graveyard House clinic. I was going to give her some of the fat signing bonus I got for transferring to the Great Arena… but Benny told me you’d stormed into this dangerous neighborhood all by yourself. So here we are.”

At Kilika’s gesture, Hodrick dragged over the waterproof tarp he had set down earlier. The contents of the opened sack glittered. Chains, a scythe, daggers, a bloodstained club… a two-handed sword with an edge so sharp it looked blue. And finally, a full suit of jet-black plate armor modeled after a knight’s own.

Ta-da.

Kilika spread his hands toward the haul and grinned. It was a slightly awkward smile, like that of a new neighbor trying to close the distance.

“Need any supplies?”

Having been burned once by fake friendliness, Nathan’s instincts raised their thorns. After a long round of wariness, suspicion, and interrogation, he finally accepted their help. It didn’t seem like they were pretending to help him into the armor just to stab him with a hidden dagger…

“If we were going to do that, we would’ve jumped you when you were tangled up with that monster earlier. So, you wearing it or not?”

“I’m wearing it.”

…And the gear was simply too good to refuse.

While Nathan, with the twins’ assistance, tightened the armor straps, the monster’s corpse that had been sprawled noisily on the ground began to shrivel and decay at an alarming rate. As its tentacles dried up like earthworms left in the sun, a black vapor seeped out and filled the corridor.

“Ugh, damn it. This whole neighborhood already reeks.”

When Kilika recoiled from the stench, Nathan warned him.

“Don’t breathe too much of it. You’ll regret it.”

“…If I inhale this, will I turn into one of those things?”

“It’s fine for a little while, but if you stick your nose in that corpse for half a day, you might start growing eggs in your lungs. Burning it is safest. Got anything we can use to start a fire?”

Kilika rolled his eyes in obvious discomfort.

“Well… there are a few taboos for those living in the sewer tunnels. About a hundred and some years ago, some lunatic tried to light a cigarette around here. Ever since then, open flames have been strictly forbidden.”

The faint smell of underground gas hung in the air like a warning. Nathan looked around. Black scorch marks on the walls glinted in the lamplight. He could imagine the scale of the explosion that must have happened long ago. The gap in time felt awkward in conversation. Kilika spoke of it like a childhood memory, but to Nathan it was practically ancient history. Just how many centuries had these people been rotting away down here? Without even the hope of reversal.

“Then just try not to breathe too deeply. You won’t die. Wait—then what about those guards I saw lighting a bonfire at the entrance because they were cold?”

At Nathan’s question, Hodrick sucked in a sharp breath. Kilika’s eyes widened.

“Who lit what? These new kids must be insane. I need to go have a word with them.”

It didn’t sound like an empty threat. Nathan silently offered his condolences to the poor goblin underlings who were about to get beaten twice because of him.

-----------------

Kilika, walking ahead to guide the way, kept glancing back at Nathan.

“Looks good on you. A heavy armor specialist wearing proper plate—real sharp. Like a reenactment.”

“Reenactment?”

“Uh… it’s like playing dress-up in armor. There’s a thing like that.”

Kilika shut his mouth after that. He couldn’t guess how Nathan would react if he said they were mimicking the surface wars as entertainment up in the Heavens. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A brief silence followed. Apparently uncomfortable with the quiet, Kilika spoke again.

“That armor was originally something I ordered for myself. I sometimes had to face mages in the arena, and without something like that I was screwed. They’d just cowardly shoot flames or lightning from their staves…”

“…Cowardly?”

Kilika slowly replayed his own words, then realized his mistake.

“Ah, yeah. That’s not for me to say.”

Even Hodrick snorted in suppressed laughter. Kilika kicked his brother hard.

The Niko siblings were leading Nathan by a shortcut. Past the manhole at the end of the horizontal passage lay the place where Nili had been transported inside a metal box. The sewer residents hadn’t exactly lied about the directions. They had simply guided him along slightly longer routes. Rather than a persistent trap for intruders, it was more like rival gangsters desperately passing the problem to each other. In short: “I’m not the only one who should suffer.” A rather noble mindset.

“Thanks to you, quite a few guys who didn’t need their heads bashed in got a beating anyway. Instead of protecting a human with no connections from the sewer villains, it ended up looking like we were protecting the sewer residents from you.”

“It’s good for me too. I didn’t come here to cripple a bunch of struggling thugs. I came because there’s someone who needs to be dealt with.”

Kilika stopped abruptly.

“Right, about ‘that guy’… Honestly, the moment I heard, I only thought about how I didn’t want to get involved. When we pissed off that pig boss at the floating arena, Hodrick and I nearly got our necks strung up. But the children of the Winter King? I don’t even want to imagine what happens if the absolute top of the top grabs you by the collar.”

Nathan understood. The fear inspired by the powerful and cruel was the same on the surface.

“That’s why we can’t help you all the way. If anyone asks, we’ll just say that after threats and begging, we managed to send you outside.”

When they finally reached the end of the passage, Kilika hesitated as he moved to open the entrance.

“I’m helping to repay a debt, but given who the opponent is, it feels like I’m sending you off to die. Even after putting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the armor on you… wouldn’t it be better to just give up?”

“No. I have to go. I’ve figured out who kidnapped Nili.”

Nathan rolled his shoulders once. He felt good today. His condition was more than enough to flip the table on the bastards who thought they had already won.

“And one more thing. I told Benny the same thing—every single elf who thought I would lose up until now has been wrong.”

----------

Beyond the manhole, the fog was still thick and the sky was shedding a weak drizzle. After parting with the twins and climbing up, Nathan filled his lungs with the outside air.

“Feels like I can live again.”

The enemies did not seem to agree. Robed figures exuded heavy killing intent.

“It really should have been a downpour. Would’ve been fun to watch you all struggling under those heavy cloaks.”

They had been waiting for him outside the manhole the entire time. Five of them. From their aura, they were clearly skilled. But there was no way around them. Straight past their shoulders, his destination was clearly visible—a derelict building rising like an island in the middle of the lake. The only dry land was around this manhole cover and the path leading from it to the building entrance. The ones blocking that path spoke in low voices.

“We warn you, Sapiens. Interfere in the affairs of the North and you will be embraced by the Winter’s bosom.”

“Sounds like home. The old man back home always said I was born in a cold place.”

When Nathan sneered, they all drew their swords at once.

“Is that so, Sapiens? Then we’ll chop you into tiny pieces and, when the Heavens pass over the planet’s north pole, scatter you across your homeland.”

“Having fought so many battles, I’ve noticed something strange about the ones who block my path. They all seem to think they’ll definitely win.”

Nathan rested the two-hander on his shoulder.

“The reasons are pretty varied. More numbers. Higher nobility. Longer life and more experience. And so on.”

But if he had lost to any of them, Nathan wouldn’t be standing here now. He had never died. He had killed. Orcs, cultists, ghouls, wendigos, even the Children of the Stars born from the Abyss deities, and berserkers who had sworn themselves to the Abyss to gain inhuman power. Even a dragon—though it had been quite young. Today, a few more elves would be added to that list.

Nathan repeated the same words he had said to the twins when they parted.

“But in the end, I always win.”

The next instant, swords ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠clashed, scattering sparks.

-----------------

A desolate chill hung over the half-sunken abandoned building in the middle of the lake. It wasn’t just the weather. Nor was it merely the cursed reputation of the ruin that had swallowed its investors. The criminal organizations of the sewers knew the more concrete truth. On days when the fog grew so thick that no one could see the sins committed inside, this place often became an execution ground.

Of course, if truly secret disposal was needed, cutting throats inside the underground sewers would have been better. But their real master disliked the smell of gas. After all, he was a precious being.

“Kada. Why do you keep doing this? I gave you only one order. To give my sister Evnilly a splendid final moment.”

The white-haired man, hair neatly swept back, smirked as he gazed at the misty waters. Even among the burly gang members, he stood out like a telephone pole, towering over everyone. A thick leather coat suited for the north and tattoos covering his massive arms left a strong impression.

“The floating sightseeing ship’s arena prohibits filming, so it isn’t known to the public. But my quick-witted siblings, whether through spies or illegal channels, have seen it through roundabout means and grown afraid. Simple and elegant, isn’t it? So why do you keep ruining my plan?”

Despite calmly declaring failure, his bright voice held no trace of disappointment. The condemned prisoner’s eyes widened. A spark of hope that he might survive flared up. Kada Sakano, the nominal operator of the floating arena, tried to stand, straightening his kneeling legs. Then, in a tearful voice, he begged.

“Protector Lord candidate, this was my mistake—!”

“I gave you one task and you failed even that?” A cold, massive hand settled on Kada’s plump cheek. Tap, tap. As the leather coat’s collar brushed his face, Kada slowly sank back to his knees. The tiny courage he had barely mustered retreated back into his lungs.

“Everyone who steps up to do business these days is like this. You really can’t entrust anything to children who haven’t even lived four hundred years. It’s too nerve-wracking to leave things in their hands.”

The former arena owner began trembling again. He probably wanted to turn back time. If only he had known the identity of the anonymous investor, or the identity of the little brat who had paid a fortune to have her killed. He might not have accepted the investment out of sheer terror.

The man kneeling beside Kada gave him a pitying look.

“Oh, right. I paid off all your debts too, didn’t I? I even pushed you to expand the arena once more so you could rake in even more profits. And back when that chimera died from stress, I made you a new one and told you to make this one last longer. Looking back, I asked quite a lot of you, Kada. I’d forgotten. Sorry.”

The former arena owner’s plump wheezing grew more violent. The cheek touched by the hand was beginning to freeze.

“Please, merciful one, give me one more chance—”

“The arena’s been sold, the chimera’s dead, and you failed at everything. Let’s call it a draw. A grown man shaking like this.”

The white-haired giant withdrew his hand. Only then did Kada clutch his frostbitten cheek and gasp for breath. The man who had stepped away from Kada now turned to the other condemned prisoner beside him.

“And what I ordered you to do was bring me Evnilly.”

“Unlike that lazy pig, this one—Ulukabo—has delivered what you desired, great Mornid, closest royal descendant to the Protector Lord.”

The leader of the kidnapping organization and shadow sorcerer answered proudly. Mornid frowned.

“What I desired?”

The man’s hand tapped the enormous block of ice beside him. The gang members who had been noisily trying to smash the cube froze in place.

“I said I wanted to share a heartfelt conversation with my sibling. I didn’t mean for her to be left in this state.”

Three meters in width, height, and depth. Inside the steel box that had carried Nili was a sculpture frozen in the exact shape of the container. Within it crouched a white-haired woman covering her head. It was the final fortress Evnilly had created to protect herself. For an emergency measure, it was remarkably effective. Neither bonfires, awls, nor axes had any effect. For several hours the gang members had managed to peel away the steel box but had barely shaved ten centimeters off the ice.

“I never imagined she could use magic even inside a changeling’s nightmare pocket. The bloodline of the great Winter King truly is on another level. Though of course it cannot compare to yours.”

“Flattery that embarrasses people, but I’ll accept it graciously, Ulukabo. After all, she carries royal blood—how could mere vermin suppress her? We should have cut off her wrists beforehand so she couldn’t use magic.”

Mornid tapped the ice block and spoke to Nili inside it. His tone suggested he was growing quite bored of waiting.

“If someone who can barely freeze a cup made something of this level, the aftereffects will be severe. Evnilly. Even if I can’t pull you out, you might suffocate inside. Why not just come out obediently? I’ll let you rest for a few days and finish cleaning up the surroundings you left unfinished.”

Of course there was no way she could hear him. Even without the thick ice wall, Nili’s entire body was already entangled in the changeling’s black net. She was probably experiencing her worst nightmare right now.

Mornid gazed at the ice with affectionate eyes, then suddenly frowned at the reflection behind it. The two condemned prisoners presented a stark contrast. The fat Kada, trembling as if he might wet himself at any moment. And the shadow sorcerer Ulukabo, holding his head high with dignity.

Turning around, Mornid asked Ulukabo.

“Why are you so confident?”

The man with black paint on his face answered in a languid tone.

“I am not afraid. Because I know I will survive.”

“I like that arrogance. Reason?”

“I can summon as many demons as you desire. The slums are overflowing with Baeleim, so there is no shortage of blood to fill the chalice. Wouldn’t I be more useful than this man who is no longer an arena owner?”

Mornid clapped as if deeply impressed. The gang members who had been sweating buckets while striking the ice behind him flinched when he glanced their way, then immediately set down their tools and joined in the applause. Ulukabo didn’t even spare his subordinates a glance. By then Mornid’s palm had already shifted from his other hand toward Ulukabo’s cheek.

Crunch.

It sounded like what might happen if you froze an entire watermelon solid and then struck it with a wide iron club. Ulukabo’s head shattered into thousands of crimson ice fragments that scattered across the floor of the abandoned building. The subordinates, who had already looked uneasy, now turned deathly pale. Their boss had been one of the most formidable rulers of Graveyard Valley. Yet he had died as easily as an ant crushed under a finger.

“Since you failed to break the ice before I grew angry, one of you had to die as promised. Game over. The survivor is Kada Sakano. Congratulations, sir. How do you feel?”

Wiping his hand casually on the collar of his leather coat, Mornid grinned. Kada, eyes brimming with panicked tears, answered with a trembling chin.

“I… I lived…”

“You used my money, my connections, my credit, and even siphoned coolant for your propellant from my own spine. And after all that you sold most of your assets to the Great Arena. But I’ll give you one more chance. Be grateful to the parents who instilled humility in you, Kada Sakano.”

The refreshing smile of the investor and lord. Only then did Kada become certain. He had survived. Once again he alone had survived the fierce struggle of life. Kada’s judgment was correct. He truly possessed the luck of a winner. No matter how the world tried to trip him out of jealousy, it was useless. Kada Sakano was the kind of man who could always claw his way back up.

With genuine joy swelling in his chest, Kada lifted his plump cheeks and broke into a wide, beaming smile.

“Thank you! Thank you, Master! This Kada Sakano will never forget your grace! I vow eternal loyalty—”

He could not finish the vow.

A blue blade of light flew like a thrown spear.

Crunch.

It sounded like what might happen if a greatsword pierced straight through the center of the waist. Because that was exactly what had happened. The blade that shattered his spine pierced through his thick chest and embedded itself in the cement floor. It had been thrown with such force that even the parrying hook dug into flesh. The protruding parts, like the side blades of a trident, pinned the body that had been about to slide to the floor. Kada’s smiling face looked down at his own shattered chest.

Gurgle.

He had cut off many limbs belonging to others, but he himself had never suffered so much as a scratch on any of his own. That made it all the more unbearable—the intense pain he had never even imagined in his several hundred years of life.

Blood from the sycophant’s chest splattered across Mornid’s face as he had closed his eyes in enjoyment of the gratitude and flattery. One might even say it was sincere. But Mornid ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did not look particularly happy.

“What is this?”

From far away, something heavy was charging at terrifying speed. The object that had flown up like a shot put tucked its legs in midair and fell like a meteor. The back of Kada’s head, struck by the weight of the heavy infantryman, was cleanly severed from his body. The head that was mercilessly crushed upon landing burst with a horrifying sound.

“The moment you thought you could survive, you lost your conscience.”

The traces left on the old cement were gruesome. The knight who had appeared by painting the unseen sun beneath his feet in the fog smoothly pulled the sword from the corpse. The body that had lost all its ambitions collapsed with a wet thud.

“Why are you all crowded together in a place full of dust? You’ll catch lung disease.”

Standing amid the horrified elves, inside a helmet filled with ragged breaths, Nathan smiled with triumphant confidence.

I told you. In the end, I always win.