Chapter Twenty-One: Coast at Night
“Sorry.”
Nick chuckled and fell silent.
His old wound on the left side of his chest began to throb again.
He set his thoughts aside and sat down on a shabby wooden stool, resting his hands on his knees, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.
A year had passed.
Occasionally, that bl**d-soaked summer day still appeared in his dreams.
He remembered himself, full of vigor. After receiving the divine mandate, he led over a thousand elite knights, along with the highly regarded Archbishop Ansiel and the most notable hero of the era, Mr. Carlos Gonzalez, trekking through mountains and rivers to the border of Woodward Forest, vowing to crush the terrible monster before it could blossom into a greater threat.
That was the first—and only—time he had faced the horrors of the Abyss.
On the eve of the great battle, he had mobilized the troops, laid out formations, raised morale, and thought of every possible situation and contingency plan. Deep down, he secretly hoped to be one step ahead of Carlos, to slay that monster before anyone else could. Of course, he was well aware of the Abyss’s terror, but without such terror, how could the undying valor of human knights shine?
The great spirit of knighthood, the valor and glory of humanity spilling forth, should not be sullied.
Such confidence lasted until the very moment the monster attacked.
When clouds of smoke engulfed the battlefield, Nick watched as his finest men were crushed and torn apart in front of the monster, like defenseless ants. The command structure fell apart in the blink of an eye, knights fled the battlefield, some cut in half, some falling, but more were taken away by dead smoke, their souls extinguished.
And he could do nothing.
At that moment, something seemed to silently slip away from his chest, never to return.
The pain in his left chest persisted.
After days of exposure to the sea breeze, the pain had grown sharper.
He recalled the petite figure that had dashed out from the black smoke after Mr. Carlos managed to strike down the monster, then bolted away; it seemed like a girl.
In a fit of rage with nowhere to vent, recalling countless brothers whose souls were stripped away and could no longer return to the deities, he immediately chased after… and thus received this body full of wounds.
The chill set deep, and the flesh that had frozen on his face and body had become a deep black, gouged out by a doctor’s kn*fe. Even his left arm had been amputated. He had howled in pain all night, and if it weren’t for the divine miracle of healing, he might not have survived.
Now, being in this state, he actually held no grievances. Sometimes he even thought, thankfully his right hand was spared; he could still wield a sword.
But the helplessness of that time, the faces of the fallen knights, and the bizarre girl wrapped in a cloak, feeble and indistinct, appeared in his dreams countless times this year. Every time he woke up and remembered, it felt like a fishbone stuck in his throat, something impossible to let go of for the rest of his life.
That was his nightmare.
Suddenly, footsteps outside the tent interrupted his thoughts. Nick opened his eyes as a Church Knight lifted the tent flap and entered, bowing and reporting, “Commander, the Village Chief sent two baskets of eggs. What do you think…?”
Nick rubbed his eyes and stood up.
“We can’t accept this.”
Mosry Village may be by the coast, but it was actually a remote port, short on supplies with big temperature swings, making planting difficult. There were few water merchants willing to come by, so the villagers largely depended on fishing for survival and lived a tough life. He knew what two baskets of eggs meant in a place like this, so he shook his head in refusal.
However, the knight looked troubled. “But… Commander, the Village Chief insists on sending them. We tried to dissuade him, but he’s out there trembling and he can’t quite express himself. He just won’t leave… It rained last night, and the sea breeze is a bit chilly. I’m worried he’ll catch a cold… How about…”
He hesitated, and Nick understood his meaning.
He had seen that old man. The old man was a bit hard of hearing, needing others to speak loudly to be heard. Poor folks often struggled to express themselves, and he was stubborn; if they didn’t accept his offering, the old man might very well wait outside all night until he saw Nick.
“Let him in.”
Nick said. The knight complied and soon returned with a hunched, emaciated old man dressed in patched rough cloth.
The old man walked slowly, but behind him was a lively little blonde girl, no more than ten, looking painfully thin. Once in the tent, she seemed a bit awkward, her feet bouncing cheerfully, yet her hand tightly tugged at the old man’s clothing, curiously taking in her surroundings.
They each carried a basket, filled with hay, and a few heads of eggs were peeking out from underneath.
Seeing Nick, the old man gave a somewhat clumsy bow, smiling. “Ah, Commander, Commander sir…”
Nick hurriedly stepped forward to support the old man.
“Old sir, please sit, you sit first…”
“What!”
“I said, please sit!”
Nick raised his voice a bit, then motioned to the knight to bring some water.
“Ah, I won’t sit, won’t sit… I’m just here to deliver eggs for you to eat. Once I deliver them, I’ll leave… the fishing net is torn; I need to fix it with the girl…”
“Old sir, we don’t need the eggs! You keep them! Eat them yourself!”
“Take them, take them…” The old man insisted, pushing the basket into Nick’s hands, “Eat the eggs, eat… you all worked hard…”
“We have rations! Really, it’s not necessary!”
“Ah?”
“We have food!”
“You have food, and eggs! The whole village chipped in, to nourish your bodies…”
Nick was at a loss whether to laugh or cry.
He didn’t want to accept them, but the old man was utterly stubborn, grabbing his hand and not letting go. The little girl clutching the old man’s clothes was looking at him anxiously, which put Nick in an awkward position.
“I see your children eat dry rations, salted fish, and some have gotten sick… I’ve heard children are unwell, and some are hurt… Commander sir, take these for the sick children, give them something good to eat… Little girl, go put the basket on the commander’s table…”
“Old sir, please sit down! Let’s sit and talk!”
Nick placed the basket down, helping the old man onto a nearby wooden chair, while the little girl hopped over and placed the other basket of eggs on the table, then swiftly dashed back to peek at the old man from behind.
“It’s chilly; I’ll have someone bring you some hot water!”
“No need, no need, I’m leaving soon…”
Nick and the old man pushed back and forth, while from the corner of his eye, he noticed Sword Demon Miss quietly stepping out of the tent.
The night sky outside was beautiful.
On this starry night, it resembled her hometown quite a bit.
After coming out from Commander Nick’s tent, Anacelis walked past one white tent after another, in this fire-lit seaside night, listening to the distant laughter and ruckus, looking up at the night sky, and couldn’t help but think a little.
The night was getting deep.
The dock in the distance was clearly visible through the thin mist. The last wave of knights who had set out to search for the enemy had seemingly returned, their line forming a fiery dragon along the shore, faintly making their way toward the camp.
It seemed tonight would yield no results, either.
“So what! I’m telling you, my sister is a Pope Knight!”
Suddenly, she heard someone slurring their words and paused her steps.
