< 137. The End of the Wilderness (2) >
*
The Eastern Kingdom Alliance’s camp was fully focused on the withdrawal operation. While it was regrettable that the eastern expedition didn’t go as planned, the fact that there was no significant loss of supplies or lives was a great comfort.
Pafnarmear leaned back in his chair, leisurely flipping through the reserve supply report. After saving and conserving resources in preparation for a prolonged war, they had reached a point where no additional supplies would be needed until their return to the homeland.
“Must be disappointing, huh?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t that how the Knights of the Round Table from the Dane Kingdom usually are? Showing off their bravery in battle to leave behind a great epic.”
“Ah, of course. Leaving behind an epic is important.”
Pafnarmear looked at Ludwig, who was mocking him with a stoic expression. Phaeirn had long been a rival of the Dane Kingdom, and Ludwig always tried to provoke him at every opportunity.
Pafnarmear, seemingly uninterested, shifted his gaze back to the report and said,
“This expedition will also become a great epic.”
“There wasn’t a single battle. Just a tedious search operation.”
“What did your country hope to gain from this expedition? The Empire’s favor? You’ll get it. Since we provided support when the Empire needed it, there will surely be diplomatic exchanges.”
“Then what did you hope to gain?”
“The Empire’s indifference. And the safe return of our people. We achieved both. Not a single soldier fell in battle, which is a huge victory for the kingdom. The Empire won’t be able to speak against us. After all, we did send troops.”
Pafnarmear flipped through the report as he spoke. Ludwig bit his lip slightly and narrowed his eyes. This rock-solid man, despite his young age, didn’t falter under any provocation.
The plan to suppress and break the spirit of the young commander from a rival country was hitting a major snag. But Ludwig had another way to provoke him.
“Then I guess I’ll have to go see that woman named ‘Abel.'”
“…Do you have business with her?”
“Well, I can make up some business…”
“She is a distinguished guest of our homeland. If you disrespect her, I won’t forgive you.”
Gotcha. Ludwig smirked as he looked at Pafnarmear, who was glaring at him.
“You won’t forgive me? Are you challenging me to a duel?”
“I could also have you court-martialed.”
“On what grounds? For harassing an unaffiliated civilian woman in the military camp? Can you even punish a knight commander of a nation?”
“…I’ll give you what you want.”
-Swish.
Pafnarmear closed the report, grabbed the longsword leaning against his chair, and stood up. Ludwig sneered and gripped the hilt of his sword.
“No need to throw down a gauntlet, right?”
“Let’s head to the training ground. I’ll show you what a Knight of the Round Table is.”
“That’s just a title, young man.”
A sharp tension flowed between them, as if a sword fight could break out at any moment. Pafnarmear narrowed his eyes and glared at the middle-aged Phaeirn nobleman with a mustache.
Chances of winning? Not great. Even though Phaeirn was in decline, it was still a powerful nation, and Ludwig was the commander of the Royal Griffinknights, one of the strongest in the country.
But morally, honorably, no—emotionally. Pafnarmear desperately wanted to defeat this middle-aged man. At that moment, the tent door opened.
“A Knight of the Round Table is not just a title. It represents honor, morality, integrity, and chivalry.”
“…Abel?”
Abel, who had entered the tent, smiled softly and approached Pafnarmear. With her cold, slender hands, she took the hilt of the sword from his grip.
“Young knight. The strength of a Knight of the Round Table doesn’t necessarily have to be the greatest. But…”
Her blue eyes sharply glared at Ludwig. Ludwig, with a sly smile, was eyeing her up and down.
“…their honor must be an idol for all, and their nobility must be a moral standard for all. So, you don’t need to stain your sword with blood.”
“Are you saying you’ll fight in his place? With that delicate… woman’s body?”
As Ludwig sneered, Abel smiled gently.
“Physical strength or weakness is just the minimum requirement for martial prowess. It can’t be the standard. I will teach you about the true meaning of martial arts.”
“This is getting interesting! Commander! Don’t regret this! I never thought a distinguished guest of your country would be such a crazy woman! Hahaha!”
Ignoring Ludwig’s laughter, Pafnarmear carefully held Abel’s shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Grandmother, please don’t kill him.”
“Shouldn’t I?”
“There are international concerns.”
“Hoho. I wasn’t planning to kill him anyway. Just a joke. I just want to… teach him a light lesson.”
“Thank you, Grandmother.”
Pafnarmear bowed his head to Abel. His expression showed that he didn’t even consider the possibility of her losing. Ludwig, dumbfounded, stared at the two of them.
Abelesas, the legendary guardian dragon who taught swordsmanship and chivalry to King Dane, the Knight King. Pafnarmear couldn’t even imagine her losing.
*
It was raining. The wilderness was now more like a muddy swamp, but it still retained the name “Great Wilderness.” Fernandez jumped off his horse, which was struggling in the mud.
-Squelch.
In the distance, though not too far by Diemonica’s standards, the military flag of the Eastern Kingdom Alliance was waving. There was no need to torment the horse that had galloped such a long distance.
Fernandez, with his hood pulled low, began to make his way toward the alliance’s camp.
“Halt! Identify yourself and disarm!”
How long had he walked? A loud voice came from the watchtower. A tired-looking soldier was looking down at him. Fernandez slowly pulled back his hood and looked up at him.
“Diemonica Angelo, from the Inquisition Office. I’m here to report my return from a mission. Where is the Church’s tent?”
“Ah, you’re a priest? Oh, just a moment. The inspection process has become quite complicated. Do you have anything to prove your identity…?”
“This is all I have right now…”
-Clink.
A small rosary with a keyblade carving dangled from Fernandez’s hand. It was unmistakably an authentic Church rosary. The soldier opened the camp gate and shouted.
“Come in and warm yourself by the campfire, Father. I’ll fetch the responsible priest right away!”
“Take your time.”
No need to rush. Fernandez sat on a wooden chair and warmed his hands by the campfire. The rain continued to pour relentlessly.
The rainwater, symbolizing new life, was soaking into the cursed, dried-up land. Fernandez could now see wild grass wherever he looked. The Great Wilderness was reverting to its ancient state, from the time of the Asit Empire.
The Curse of the Great Demon was dissipating from the land. But…
‘Where did its divinity go?’
The divinity that the demon had accumulated by devouring numerous ancient gods. It must have been corrupted and weakened, but where did such powerful divinity disappear to? Fernandez couldn’t shake the unease.
-It must have been used to revive Kadán.
‘Kadán only took his share. He knew that taking more would distort his essence. The rest, specifically the divinity symbolizing ‘death,’ has disappeared. Along with a few others…’
This had been the question plaguing Fernandez’s mind for days. Even if the other divinities were being consumed to cleanse the curse of this Great Wilderness, there was still something missing. The mystery lingered, unresolved.
The divine beings that made up Mumto’s existence had scattered.
This was definitely an intentional act by someone. At this point where past lives and history had already greatly changed, Fernandez deeply felt the lack of information. His grand plan was based on monopolizing information.
-*Thud*.
To his sensitive ears, from afar. The sound of footsteps squelching through the mud approached. Raising his gaze, a man was coming closer. A man dressed in a gray robe, its hem dirtied by rain and mud.
The firmness of his steps, like solid rock, and the resolute determination filled with conviction were palpable in his stride. Fernandez smiled wider and wider as he watched the man approach.
-*Squelch*.
The footsteps stopped. Five steps ahead. The man stood in the pouring rain, looking at Fernandez under the eaves.
“Brother…”
“Yes, Brother.”
“Brother, I… We thought you were dead.”
“Since when did you think that?”
“Since the moment the Wraith Pharaoh’s army vanished. We saw it. The entire city swept away under the rubble, and the overwhelming presence of demons echoing across the wasteland in an instant…”
The man lifted his robe with trembling hands. Shock and joy intertwined with the thick fatigue in his eyes, barely holding back the overflow.
“Brother Zephis. It’s good to see you again.”
“We all feel the same.”
“Are you crying now?”
“That’s a funny joke.”
Zephis, drenched by the rain, looked at him blankly. Fernandez chuckled and approached him.
“Religiosa Diemonica, Fernandez Sernerd. Mission accomplished, returning safely.”
-*Clink*.
As he handed over the rosary, Zephis hesitated for a moment before taking it. He fiddled with the rosary and spoke.
“Praise with all your heart.”
“Oh, are you using the common tongue for prayers?”
“It’s not about formalities or greetings, but truly wanting to praise with all my heart.”
“…Should I hug you?”
“Don’t say creepy things.”
“I was joking too. Haha.”
At that, Zephis finally burst into laughter. Seeing him laugh like that for the first time, Fernandez awkwardly laughed along.
“First, let’s go to my tent. Let’s eat something and hear what’s been going on.”
“I’ve already written the report. Just needs a bit of editing. But first, there’s something I need to do.”
“What is it?”
“Where is the military encampment of the Dane Kingdom?”
He needed to confirm if Abel was in this era. This world might not be a figment of Mumto’s illusions or dreams, but he had to dispel the unease that came after spending so much time there.
Zephis smirked at his words.
“After a long mission, the first thing you seek is a woman’s embrace. You’ll be recorded as a cautionary tale for monks. Saint Brother.”
“Ah, I’m not a saint anymore.”
“…Is that a position you can just return?”
“I lost the Stigma. Haha.”
“An explanation is needed.”
“I’ve written it in detail in the report. But before that, can I meet the knights of the Dane Kingdom? This seems more urgent…”
“Tsk, hand over the report first, Brother.”
“Hahaha.”
Fernandez laughed and handed over his bag, then headed towards the center of the encampment. Where the military flag of Altheis was fluttering.
*
“Abelesas! Abelesas! Abelesas!”
-*Thud! Thud! Thud!*
Despite the pouring rain, the training ground was filled with countless knights. The knights, ignoring the rain, lined up at the end of the field, stomping their feet and shouting.
Seeing this, Ludwig, slightly intimidated, frowned and grumbled.
“Quite popular, aren’t you?”
“Hoho, it reminds me of the old days.”
After Dane, that child, became king. When teaching swordsmanship to the royal knights, the atmosphere was almost like this. Abel smiled softly and extended her sword.
“Now, child. I’ll let you have the first move.”
“…I really feel like the reputation of the Royal Griffon Knights has hit rock bottom.”
Though he had acted somewhat excessively to insult the knights of the Dane Kingdom, it seemed like he was the one being insulted. The only way out now was to win decisively. Ludwig furrowed his brows and drew his sword.
“Don’t regret it!”
“Interesting words.”
As Ludwig prepared to charge, a commotion broke out among the knights. Abel and Ludwig stopped just before clashing and looked at them.
“Did you gather to interrupt the duel?”
Ludwig grumbled, but the knights paid no attention to him, exclaiming in admiration and making way. Soon, a path opened among the knights. A man was walking towards the training ground.
-*Step*.
A slender figure, tall and lanky. Despite his youthful face, his hair was streaked with gray. Beneath it, glowing, somber blue eyes…
“Have you arrived?”
“Have you been well?”
Abel looked at him with trembling eyes, then smiled warmly. Fernandez strode up to the training ground. The knights whispered as they saw the greatsword on his back.
“Is that the one we’ve only heard about…! Seeing it in person for the first time!”
“The King’s sword… Is that Sir Albert of the Round Table?”
“The savior of the royal family, the Saint of Shield?”
A somewhat twisted reputation. Fernandez shrugged and approached Abel. Abel reached out and stroked Fernandez’s wet hair.
“You’ve been through hardships. I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you.”
“I’m actually fortunate.”
“Because I didn’t become your weakness?”
Those were the words he had said to Abel when they parted. Fernandez chuckled and looked into her eyes. They were as clear and warm as the blue sky.
“Because you are here. Because you are by my side, breathing, smiling, enjoying this world. Because this is not a dream. That’s why I’m fortunate.”
You deserve to be happy. Having awakened her from eternal slumber and brought her to reality, he felt a sense of debt towards Abel.
It hadn’t even been a year since he promised to show her how beautiful the stars in the desert night sky were, how sweet the tropical fruits ripening in the jungle were. Fernandez believed she should be happy now.
Fernandez saw her eyes welling up.
“Is that a confession?”
“That’s more like…”
“Stop, don’t say more. I will, of course, accept your confession.”
As Abel said with teary eyes, Fernandez began to panic. That wasn’t what he meant.
-Aria would be delighted to see this. Sorry, Aria. My poor body is causing you humiliation…
‘Shut up.’
-Haha, you idiot.
Faijashi chuckled.
“What are you doing now? Are you insulting me?”
Ludwig said angrily, gripping his sword. Fernandez glanced at him and asked.
“Who’s that?”
“A knight of the Phaeirn Royal Family. I can’t remember his name. He insulted me and the Round Table knights, so I was about to teach him a lesson.”
“I am Ludwig von Voltstahl!! I can’t tolerate this insult any longer!”
“Ah, that was his name. Right.”
At Abel’s words, Ludwig’s face turned red as he shouted. Fernandez smiled and turned around.
“There’s no need for you to dirty your hands on my first day. Shall I take care of it for you, Sir Voltstahl?”
“Your name is?”
“For now… Albert of Sernerd.”
“Ah, I’ve heard the rumors. That’s enough. Young Round Table knight.”
The legendary Round Table knight, whose existence was considered royal propaganda, was already known through rumors. Ludwig smirked and adjusted his grip on the sword hilt.
Yes, crushing a Round Table knight in front of the Dane Kingdom’s knights would be more effective than defeating a delicate woman. Ludwig took his stance and said.
“No need to give me the first move, right? Round Table knight?”
“I’ll do my best.”
-*Swoosh*…
The dark greatsword was drawn from his hand. The rain-soaked greatsword glistened under the torches of the training ground. The lined-up knights gasped at the sight. It was the sword of the founding king, the symbol of chivalry.
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