The Knight's Last Dream
"I didn't expect the young master to peel an apple for me." "I'm a man too. Never thought the day would come when I'd be peeling an apple for a subordinate." Thanks to you, this is already the umpteenth time my predictions have gone awry. Carix laughed as if amused and placed the peeled apple on Leng's lap. To anyone watching, it might have looked like a lord comforting a subordinate injured in the line of duty. Except that it was the dead of night when even beasts slept, and the knife carving the apple was Leng's own sword.
"It's delicious." "Of course it is. I took it from the prime minister's estate—the second most powerful man in the kingdom." "…That sounds ominous." Just what kind of things was he getting up to, to say something like that so casually? Carix skewered a piece of apple on the tip of the sword and flicked it into his mouth. The sight was as grotesque as ever.
"How long do you plan on sitting in that sickbed? I know the royal bed is comfortable, but your paid leave is over." "……" Three weeks had already passed since the Mazok attack. Leng had taken damage that felt like stopping a dump truck with his face, but this was a fantasy world. His external wounds had long since healed; he could leave the bed whenever he wished. "I'm sorry." "Still want more rest?" "That's… not it……"
But this was a world where humans possessed one extra organ ordinary people lacked. The aftereffects of his rampage had left Leng weaker than when he first met Carix. Probably early 7th class. Only the mana from his days as a knight remained… No. Perhaps even less than that. "My core… the mana isn't circulating properly through my body."
Carix, visiting for the first time in three weeks, wouldn't know, but Leng had already tried getting out of bed several times. For days he had forced himself to train, desperately trying to wrap mana around his body. It didn't work. At best, only the area around his chest and thighs grew faintly warm. It felt as though the vessels and heart that should have carried mana throughout his body had burned away. In other words, he could no longer live as a knight. "Leng." "……Yes." "That wasn't an answer to my question."
Leng had seen Carix speak like this before. It was the tone he took when irritated. "……" Carix skewered another piece of apple with Leng's sword. This time the motion looked less like eating and more like carving out the apple's heart. "Don't I look tired?" "…Yes." "Some damn subordinate took three weeks of leave without a word and left me running around alone. The greenhouse flower I thought I could rely on got hit twice and still can't get his head straight. Honestly, it's annoying as hell."
Carix tossed the carved apple scraps into Leng's open mouth. Leng still couldn't figure out how simply twisting his wrist allowed such delicate control. "I'll ask again. When are you returning?" "Young master, I…!" Leng knew Carix was angry. He understood what the question meant. But he had wanted to become a knight. He had been a knight. And now he could no longer live as one. "I'm… sorry!!" Leng spat the words out through pain that felt like his heart was being crushed. "I tried… everything I could! With the title and money you gave me…!! I even tried to buy elixirs to fix my core…!!"
But it hadn't worked. Even when he swallowed expensive elixirs bought with money to replenish his mana, it simply went in one end and out the other. The king and the archbishop themselves, along with Jena—a 2nd-class knight—had examined his condition. The result was the same. Everyone declared that his life as a knight was over. "Kh…!! I'm sorry—!!" The voice that burst out with his tears carried guilt. Leng knew the man before him was a vengeful spirit who walked even the most brutal and dangerous paths without hesitation. He called himself a monster or a madman, but Leng believed he understood him in his own way.
'A young master who lost the family he cherished, came to hate the entire world, and yet still suffers because he couldn't stop his brother's death… I… I'm the one making that person alone again…!!' At first he had thought Carix was insane. After seeing his strength, he had thought him a monster. When he suddenly made Leng—someone insignificant—his close aide, Leng had truly believed he was out of his mind. But while staying by his side, Leng had seen him. The man who hid his talent for his brother's sake yet blamed himself for failing to protect him. The man who gave a marquis who wasn't even a target of revenge one more chance after the man created an incident that harmed him. The man who showed the way to a knight who, like himself, had lost someone precious and was wandering. The man who, despite calling it full of risks, moved to save the princess who had become one of his people. Even so, he was still only twenty years old. "I'm sorry…!"
As Leng poured out his own pathetic inability to walk beside Carix any longer, his mouth stopped. Carix had already pressed the sword blade against his lips. Leng understood. As a man of vengeance, Carix intended to cut away even the now-useless Leng and walk forward truly alone. "I already gave you a chance to leave quietly." "…?" "The one who stabbed an innocent heart and kicked it away was you." —"This is the last time I'll say it. If you disappear right now, I won't say a word. I'll give you a proper severance, leave your title as is, and never touch your family."
Leng swallowed dry air, unable to open his mouth. Having served him for a year, he could tell. Carix wasn't looking at him but at the apple as he spoke. If Leng said one more word here—if he said he would leave—Carix would keep the promise he had made that day. "Leng. When are you returning?" Everything was the opposite. "……Tomorrow. I'll return… immediately." "Good."
For Carix, Leng Dust's end had already been decided. He would die in front of him. Leng still hadn't fully understood the man. *****
"These damn traitorous bastards…!" "Stop them!! Don't let a single one into the mansion!!" The ambush began at the most vulnerable hour. Leng was there. —"Do your best." Those were the only words from the man who had ordered him to join the ducal knight order. It was such a typical farewell that Leng laughed the moment Carix disappeared. 'If I die here, it means he'll protect Mother, my sister, the title, and the severance pay.' As expected, that man was terrifying. But he wasn't heartless either. He hadn't discarded Leng just because he was useless. Since Leng had wanted to live as a knight, Carix was letting him die as one. 'Thank… you. At least you let me dream a good dream for a while.'
Gratitude alone felt slightly insufficient, but he had reached the realm of 4th class—a height he never thought he would touch even after a lifetime of training. He had even experienced something like romance with a lady whose bronze skin was beautiful and whose skill was outstanding. He had received all sorts of strange titles at the academy—a place he never thought he would even approach—and been revered. The final chapter would be completed by falling while cutting down traitors. Wasn't it just like the knight stories from the fairy tales he read as a child? "Bring down the ducal house!!" "Rescue the princess!!!" "A perfect stage to end things on."
He charged toward the enemies shouting nonsense. Mana no longer flowed through his body. He had thought it was early 7th class at worst, but once the real battle began, he knew for certain. This was 8th class. —Clang!! He collided with a knight charging from the front, sparks flying. The opponent's strength and mana were at least refined 7th class. Sensing that this was his end— "Kuhak!?" Not yet, apparently. The artery in his neck split more easily than expected. Well, there wasn't much difference between 7th and 8th class anyway. He had more real combat experience, so it couldn't be helped. "……" Another 7th-class knight came running behind him. As if it wasn't over yet, the sword pierced his heart again. He cut down the soldiers rushing in from the side as well. Because the 3rd-class knight commander was holding the front line, stronger opponents were slower to appear. '……I wish they'd be a bit more decent.'
He had come here to die, so why were only weaklings showing up? He didn't want to die impaled by knights or soldiers below 7th class. That would be too pathetic an end for a fairy-tale knight. At least 6th class. If possible, he wanted to die at the hands of a 5th-class knight. In the end, he broke formation. He heard the vice-commander's voice trying to stop him, but if he stayed in formation like this, he wouldn't be able to die properly. This was the last gift from the young master—if he couldn't even receive this properly, it would be too unfair. —Clang!!! "Kuhk!!?" "?" Why so flustered? You're 5th class. With all those scars on your face, you've clearly seen plenty of real battles and front lines. And yet— —Thud! "Why…… are you this weak?" This was… the average of other knight orders? "Hek!! Sir Daron of the White Scars fell in two moves!!?" "I-it's the Knight of Loyalty! The Knight of Loyalty cut down Sir Daron…!!!" Eh—White Scars? A hundred wounds? He should have died long ago. Surviving after being cut a hundred times—what was there to brag about that it became a nickname? "Huu━━" Still, attention had gathered. He stood several meters ahead of the commander. The stupid titles he had thought unnecessary until now were even helping him at the end. What better grave could a knight ask for? "Come, anyone who would break my loyalty." """!!""" So this was why the young master said his reactions were entertaining. Thanks to the soldiers' and knights' reactions, even his ridiculous pose looked impressive. Come, then. I'll take you at full strength and die. *****
Harrison, the ducal house's only 3rd-class knight and commander, felt his lifelong common sense as a knight crumbling. 'What is that Leng bastard doing?' Even while instinctively cutting down charging soldiers and clashing with enemy knights, he couldn't take his eyes off him. There was no sign of body reinforcement. He could barely feel any mana either. Yet somehow the heads of two 5th-class knights were already rolling on the ground, and he had killed over twenty soldiers. —Slash. The sword swung in the shortest possible arc cleanly severed a soldier's neck. He deflected an incoming spear aimed at a gap not with his sword but with his armor, then stole the weapon and threw it into another soldier's face. He didn't even hesitate to drop his own sword. He twisted the wrist of a knight aiming for an opening and cut his throat in the same motion. "M-mad!!" "What the hell is that!?" "So the rumor that the Knight of Loyalty cut down a 6th-class knight and a 4th-class mage was true…!!"
The enemy soldiers and knights wavered, fear spreading among them. Only Harrison, the commander, knew the truth—a secret even within the ducal house. That feat had actually been done by their second son. 'Just what happened in these past six months?' If Leng's core hadn't been broken, he could have made even that empty title real. "Knight of Loyalty, Leng Dust!!" "…Who are you?" At the moment when the soldiers' offensive faltered under grotesque fear, an old knight called out to Leng. Leng looked at the old knight with a listless gaze while catching his rough breath. He was a young knight; there would have been nothing strange about not recognizing the old man. But Harrison knew. The old knight was 4th class. He had once crossed swords with Harrison himself—the knight known as the Hidden Blade. He was clearly an opponent Leng couldn't handle in his current state. "I, Keion Tura of the Hidden Blade, challenge you to a duel." "Yes. Come at me."
This wasn't like him. As if he didn't have much time left, Leng abandoned both chivalry and etiquette, merely wiggling his sword. The old knight couldn't hide his bewilderment. No. Even against an enemy, this was a bit… "Kuk! That arrogance is why your life ends here!!" "Not really. It's because my core is shattered." A downpour of the Hidden Blade's swift strikes poured down. Damn it. He had been too entranced by Leng's grotesque appearance. What kind of duel was this on a battlefield where soldiers and knights were already mixed? If Leng fell now, the Valentia knight order's morale would be completely crushed…!! "Kuaaak!!?" "No. How many unnecessary openings are you mixing into a single attack? There are so many I can see them all." The Hidden Blade's right arm flew through the air. The following strike immediately dropped the old knight's head. Morale……? Hm. Good. "Now! Follow Leng!!" "Chase after the Knight of Loyalty!!" "Victory to Valentia!!!"
The numerical disadvantage remained. The Valentia knight order had barely eighty men. The enemy numbered over five hundred, including knights. Yet Leng's sword began to turn the tide of battle— —━━━━!!! "Kuaaaak!!" "My eaaars!!!" "It huuurts!!?" A deafening explosion turned the battlefield into pandemonium in an instant. Even Harrison, a 3rd-class knight, dropped his sword and clutched his head. Moreover, Leng—who had been flying around until just moments ago—had too little mana to resist and collapsed first. This damn noise. It was clearly the magic used by the Mazok who killed the king…!!! "Who…!!?" "Do not resist. We came under our lord's orders."
An unidentified, ominous force led the fallen knights away and disappeared from the mansion. *****
'Damn Mazok bastards……!!' Count Beinhardt, leader of the rebel army, spat blood and recalled what had just happened. The mysterious figures who had attacked the fallen ducal knights, stolen their weapons, and dragged them away. They were the Mains he had 'frequently' encountered. He didn't remember all their faces, but he had felt the distinctive eerie mana of Mains many times. The moment they appeared, the mana that had been shaking from the explosion resonated even louder—there was no doubt. 'Even if we seemed to be losing, attacking without distinguishing friend from foe… Thanks to that, my mana almost got tangled!' After seeing that damn Knight of Loyalty even defeat the count's own Hidden Blade knight, he had decided things couldn't continue this way and prepared a large-scale bombardment spell. But of all times, an indiscriminate ambush had to happen right then. It had nearly caused the spell to fail and backfire on him. "C-count. Those people who just appeared…" "It's them. It seems they couldn't stand by any longer and lent a hand."
The viscount who had been moving with him was only 4th class and had fainted from the sudden explosion. Even the 4th-class mage who had barely endured was staggering, likely from the backlash of the failed bombardment spell. "D-did the ducal house really have Mazok?" "Those evil bastards…" "They really were trash that didn't even deserve to be called that." Recovery was slow because their levels were low. Still, the soldiers who regained their senses began murmuring that the previous attack had been support from Mazok allied with the ducal house. "Vice-commander!" "Y-yes…? Yes!!" The former commander—the Hidden Blade—was dead, so the vice-commander had to take charge of the soldiers, but he was only a 5th-class knight at best. Harrison couldn't trust him. "The Mazok have appeared again. I'm worried about Her Highness the Princess's safety, so rally the soldiers immediately and surround the mansion." "Ah. Yes!"
The Valentia ducal mansion was enormous—large enough to accommodate five hundred soldiers with room to spare. If the princess had been less affected by the explosion and escaped, it could become troublesome. Within minutes they had reorganized their forces and finally surrounded the mansion completely, entering the building. 'He has a sense for this.' The count, who had been cursing the Mazok until moments ago, let out a sinister laugh of satisfaction at the sight before him. On the third floor, by the window of the head's office, sat a black-haired man with his head bowed as if collapsed. He was even wearing the ducal house head's robes. That was definitely Duke Ruth. The Mazok must have killed the duke in accordance with their movements. Now all that remained was to take that incompetent man's head and secure the princess. Then the kingdom would be theirs. "Only we enter the mansion." "My lord?" "Count. What do you mean? If by chance—" "Look at the office. I heard he recently reached 4th class. He's staying behind, probably to preserve what little pride he has left. Even if he's a traitor who joined hands with Mazok, he was once a duke. As fellow nobles, it's only right that we personally end his life."
After belatedly hearing the count's words and looking at the office, the knights and nobles understood. 'He's already dead.' 'The Mazok already made their move.' There was no mana felt inside the mansion. That meant the figure was a corpse, and all they had to do was go up and take his head. The fact that he couldn't sense the princess's mana was unsettling, but it was possible the Mazok had already taken her. If they rescued her and spun a story around it, the kingdom would remember them as heroes. "Let's go." ""Understood.""
Nevertheless, just in case, they carefully checked the first floor for traps with their soldiers. Finding nothing, they reached the third-floor office in an instant. "Kuk. How can things go this smoothly?" "Truly. The heavens are helping us." "Hey now! You'll be punished for saying that. Isn't it the Mazok helping us?" The three nobles chuckled among themselves. As they entered the office expecting to face the incompetent middle-aged corpse they had so desperately wanted— "Welcome. First time in the ducal house, I take it." —they were instead greeted by a young black-haired man wearing a smile that looked pasted on. The three of them voiced their most primal instinct. """Who…!?""" Carix had never once appeared in high society.