This was Senior Delphine’s armor.
Alex Knight’s armor seemed to have a similar function. His hands, trembling as they worked, managed to peel off the battered armor with great difficulty.
Once he removed the armor that was twisting his bones, his movements seemed to improve somewhat.
The wrinkled hand grope within a pocket finally found a potion.
I had been groaning after foolishly allowing the ambush. Not long after I managed to stagger to my feet, Alex had already finished administering first aid to himself.
The empty potion bottle was tossed onto the snowfield.
Steam began rising from Alex’s body. The body hidden under the armor looked far too robust for an old man.
Along with his heavy breathing, he spoke.
“Weapons aren’t for decoration, aren’t they?”
“…Knight Alex, pushing further will kill you.”
I warned him as I slowly got back up on my feet.
I didn’t have many tricks left either.
I, too, had incurred significant cumulative injuries. With no Lady Virgin Saint around, taking any more serious injuries would make my future uncertain.
But Alex showed no hesitation, not even a hint of it.
“Haha! Wouldn’t it be splendid…that a warrior of such renown could bring an end to my humble life? And by the way, in the Northern Region, once you say you’re ‘going to die’, it’s already too late.”
Simultaneously, Alex retrieved a dagger from a belt around his chest. It seemed to be a backup weapon in case of unforeseen situations.
Truly, this was the preparedness of a man seasoned in countless battles.
In the end, I had no choice but to close my eyes tightly.
“You must declare…’I will kill’!”
Once again, the old knight charged at me.
The dagger emitted a red aura that dribbled like blood. It was at that moment that my eyes snapped open again.
My pupils were split vertically.
Before the old knight could even notice the change, crimson words appeared etched in the void.
The world bled water and blood.
Converging flames surged toward the injury. In a hair-trigger moment, the tip of Alex’s dagger finally reached me.
A splendid explosion ensued.
With a thunderous roar, the explosion heated the snowfield. The sight of snow and moss instantly evaporating felt almost surreal.
There was no way someone could survive such a direct hit.
Without even a scream, the old knight’s body was sent flying into the sky. After spinning through the air several times, the flames consuming his body finally extinguished.
It was the end.
The flames of life, along with the flames of death, had faded. Alex’s body began trembling faintly.
Revival was impossible.
Feeling as if my eyes were going to tear from the intense pain, I took a step forward.
Trudging on, before long my footsteps led me in front of Alex.
The old knight was barely breathing while lying facedown. It was obvious to anyone that he was on his deathbed.
“Kuh… kuhee… Y-your blood letter…”
With his last ounce of strength, the old man let out a bitter laugh.
His arm that shook as if attempting to get up made it clear he fought until his very end. But how could he not regret a body that refused to cooperate?
Thus was the ultimate desperation of a knight.
“At last, the Imperial Family has noticed… Oh Yuridina…”
And with that final word, his breath ceased.
I glanced down at the freshly dead corpse, then looked up to the sky.
The snowflakes were still swirling in the snowfield. My breath steamed white in the cold.
Everyone’s eyes were on me.
Not just the elves, but the soldiers too—none of them could turn their gaze or ears away from me for some time.
They would be witnesses to my crime.
I had committed murder.
And it was for the elves.
This was my choice.
*
The arrival of the messenger brought some relief to Yuridina Castle. Alex had discovered Ian Fercurus while leading a solo effort to search for missing persons.
The moment the truth was recognized, the messenger rushed all day to reach the castle. Details were overlooked, for he was the same soldier Alex had dispatched earlier.
Thus the messenger knew nothing of the events afterward. Only the sound of the wailing elves remained in his memory.
Ian Fercurus had lost his memory.
Still, it was considered a lucky escape. Though memory loss was rare, there was hope that Ian would recover in the care of his comrades who had faced death alongside him.
Of course, certain people were the happiest to hear this news.
The Lady Virgin Saint, Elsi, the Imperial Princess, and Emma.
They were Ian’s women.
Without delay, these few gathered a small number of soldiers and followed the messenger’s trail. Yet there was no word from Alex since then, but they assumed there must be some reason.
Alex and his team were veterans with extensive battlefield experience.
Elves could not match their prowess. It was likely presumed that they remained at the elf village to focus on Ian’s recovery.
Therefore, their inability to speak upon arriving at the village was unexpected.
There were no signs of life.
Ruined cabins and broken weapons hinted at a violent past. The warmth of survivors had gone missing for quite some time.
However, the clue was not difficult to find.
They were snow mounds.
And atop them were embedded weapons.
A spear, a knife, and a greatsword.
An oppressive silence blanketed the group.
“…Are these graves of the elves?”
Though foolish, no one dared counter the Imperial Princess’s question.
They all hoped for the same.
Despite knowing elves lacked the ability to forge metallic weapons, such a consideration was lost in their frantic minds.
A faint laugh escaped the ladies.
It was Elsi. With her petite hand pressed to her forehead, she chuckled.
How absurd.
“Not sure why anyone would dig graves for the elves, are they? Gosh, everyone’s gone soft over here… And, so, where’s our master?”
Her teasing question was met with no answer.
Nevertheless, Elsi kept smiling, the corners of her lips trembling.
Then her azure eyes dulled, filled with a mixture of emotions.
“Where is our master? Find him… Find him right now!”
Her command, almost a tantrum, spurred the soldiers to action hurriedly.
They seemed intent on resuming the search at this point. However, a prior issue needed addressing.
“…Excavate them.”
Two conflicting orders were given, causing the soldiers to shift nervously.
Elsi glared at whoever had given the second command, her lips biting into each other.
It was Yulen.
He alone among them seemed to remain calm.
“Let’s fully excavate each and every mound.”
“Hey, sir knight, did you not hear me? Find our master first…”
“Elsi, please stop mimicking an idiot.”
Whether it was a taunt or not, the effect was profound. Elsi’s fiery demeanor immediately faltered.
She merely bit on her lips, then without any apparent counterargument, she turned her head, letting out a scoff.
Though she tried to hide it, it was evident.
Elsi was anxious. To confirm the truth.
And soon enough, that anxiety returned as a harsh reality.
Upon excavation, frozen corpses lay within the graves.
It was Alex and his soldiers.
Seeing the body of her loyal subject, who she’d known since childhood, Ceria’s body collapsed. She fell heavily, her hand over her mouth, emitting an indiscernible cry of either anguish or despair.
“Ah, ah… Ah, Knight Alex? Why…?”
Who was Alex?
A recognized loyalist of Yuridina, and a knight trusted enough by the Viscount of Yuridina to be given command. For decades, his bravery, known across battlefields, was even held as an example for northerners.
And yet, now he was dead.
Few in the north could hear of his death without shock. The wide eyes of the soldiers alone spoke volumes.
However, the most shocking truth lay elsewhere.
One of the soldiers examining the corpses screamed.
“Y, a will! There’s a will here! Written just before death…”
Even before the soldier’s statement ended, a crowd rushed over.
Sure enough, there were inscriptions left, as if written on the brink of death, in frozen soil with blood.
Though dried and blackened, they were still legible upon closer examination.
One soldier carefully began reading.
“Let’s see, t-this… Ian? Ah! Ian Fercurus…”
But he could not bring himself to finish the reading.
The sound of swallowing saliva echoed aloud.
The soldier quickly glanced around at the others. But it was too late; everyone’s eyes were already fixed on the words, and the die was cast.
Finally, closing his eyes tightly, the soldier stumbled through the remaining words.
“I, Ian Fercurus…”
“Betrayed humanity.”
An expressionless voice.
Everyone’s gaze turned to the origin. There stood a woman with silver hair.
“It can’t be…”
Her paler-than-usual complexion betrayed her disbelief.
The story of the man who lost his memory becoming an enemy grew, and the tale was closing its chapter.
