White Wolves – Chapter 12

On the following day, Kassel, seated in the carriage, received lectures on chivalry and noble etiquette from Sheyden. When they stopped for breaks, he learned how to grip a sword convincingly from Gerald.

Gerald, observing Kassel’s passion, uttered in mild awe.

“Do you always enjoy learning this much?”

“Indeed, I do.”

Kassel, drenched in sweat just from assuming a not-so-strenuous stance, replied.

“I would even sell a sack of grain behind my father’s back just to buy a book about knights. Even if I got caught and beaten half to death by my father the next day, I thought it was worth it if the book I stayed up all night reading was satisfying. And now, I’m receiving sword training from my most admired knights. How could I not enjoy it!”

Kassel said with a bright smile.

Gerald, following suit, smiled back brightly, and then was taken aback.

‘Did I start to like this boy because of the strange story I heard from Sheyden yesterday?’

Suddenly, Sheyden called everyone. Azwin and Dunmel had already approached Sheyden, and Gerald and Kassel followed suit.

Sheyden was kneeling on one side, examining marks on the ground. They were horse hoof prints, but larger than ordinary ones, and the imprints were deep. Sheyden spoke with a grave tone, setting the atmosphere.

“Something strange has passed through here.”

Gerald felt a pang of envy for his voice.

‘Ah, how can he sound so serious without trying?’

Azwin, who hadn’t budged but had her arms crossed, cocked her head.

“Strange? Can you explain in more detail?”

“I can’t explain in detail, that’s why I said it’s strange.”

Sheyden stood up and looked around the barren plain where not a single tree was in sight. There stood only bare, withered trees on the hill, their branches trembling in the wind. Beyond them, black smoke was rising.

Although faint, there was an unpleasant smell of burning. Gerald knew this smell better than anyone else.

“It’s the smell of burning corpses. Not too far away.”

“Did that mad Count’s army engage in another battle somewhere?”

Azwin asked.

As Sheyden started walking towards the source, Gerald spoke in a reluctant tone.

“Planning to get involved? Doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll just take a look. There’s something that bothers me. Want to come along?”

Gerald shrugged his shoulders and followed.

Sheyden, hands in his pants pockets, climbed the inclined hill towards the withered tree. Looking back, Kassel was waiting anxiously next to Azwin and Dunmel.

Gerald asked in a whispering voice.

“Hey, Sheyden. Did you hear that guy admit himself that he has no popularity with women?”

“I heard.”

“Do you believe that?”

“There are those types. They can’t distinguish whether they’re popular or not, so they hole up in their rooms.”

“You think he’s that type? Not just showing off indirectly?”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like something to talk about now.”

“You ass! As if you only talk about important things!”

Gerald asked while climbing up the hilltop.

“But what do you want to verify?”

Sheyden muttered as he reached the top of the hill.

“Something very unpleasant has passed here. And a lot of them.”

“You mean those horse hoof prints from before?”

Sheyden picked up some dry soil from the ground and said,

“The prints were made on a completely dry road without a drop of rain or water. That’s already strange. But that’s not all. The hoof prints are unusually large. The shape is also strange. It’s as if a large beast, not a horse, passed by scratching the ground.”

Once they reached the base of the withered tree, they saw about fifty corpses scattered beneath the hill.

“I expected to see corpses, but why are there so many?”

Gerald grumbled.

“We did well to come here alone. This is not a sight for Kassel.”

As Sheyden turned around, he saw the other three had followed them up the hill.

‘Azwin must have persuaded them.’

Kassel was taken aback, but he did not look away.

“Is there a living person down there?”

Gerald pointed down the hill.

A man was there, shifting corpses into a funeral pyre. He was clad in animal hide and was mumbling something inaudible, as though reciting a spell. His steps were heavy as he moved each body. Despite an apparent injury that caused him to limp, he never stopped his work. Occasionally, he would wipe away tears. Two dogs sat weakly by his side, also covered in wounds.

“Do you need help?”

Sheyden asked loudly. At the sound, the man in hides jumped in surprise, trying to draw his knife from his waist. But in his panic, he tried to do too many things at once — step back, draw his knife, brandish it — and ended up falling over.

“We mean no harm. We were just asking if you needed assistance?”

“No! Leave, now.”

The man, brushing off his clothes, rose and spat out the words.

“It seems like you could use help. What happened to all these corpses?”

“That’s none of your business. I am part of the most formidable bandit group in this area. Mess with me, and you’ll pay the price.”

He tried to pull off a fierce expression, but it didn’t seem to have much effect even on Kassel.

“Who attacked you?”

The ever-patient Sheyden continued to ask politely.

With a whimper, the man waved him away.

“Leave me alone. All of my friends are dead. Why are you tormenting me?”

Sheyden descended the hill. Kassel, although reluctant, followed him, while Dunmel remained on the hilltop. Dunmel had a habit of taking up positions on high ground.

“Who did this?”

Sheyden asked, looking around at the corpses. It was a sight of massacre that even Gerald found disturbing. Among the dead were many dogs, their throats ripped out or bodies torn in two.

The dogs that remained were on high alert at the sight of strangers but did not growl or attack.

“It was the Black Knight.”

The man muttered, collapsing back onto the ground. Sheyden offered him a waterskin, and as the man took a swig, he seemed to relax, beginning to recount his tale. His hands were shaking as he spoke, showing how terrified he had been.

“We encountered an incredible man yesterday. He was protecting a wine merchant…”

Azwin and Sheyden quickly exchanged glances.

“He killed many of us trying to protect that wine merchant. I’ve never seen anyone wield a sword so fast. It was as if he wasn’t there.”

Azwin quickly asked,

“Was this also his doing?”

“No. We suffered many losses to him, but it was not a complete annihilation like this time.”

Sheyden asked,

“How old did the wine merchant’s guard look?”

“I’m not sure. I was quite far away… perhaps around twenty?”

Gerald finally understood what Sheyden and Azwin were inquiring about.

‘Could the person he is talking about be Loyal?’

“We reported this to our boss. In the West, we have Falcon, in the East, there’s Lensang, and in the center, there’s Nayati. They’re famous enough to be known by those names. My boss is Nayati!”

The bandit looked at everyone with a hopeful expression, as if expecting them to be surprised. But no one reacted, and he continued his story with a disappointed look.

“The boss decided that we should kill that bastard to maintain the dignity of our bandit group. He called all his subordinates and dogs. I was, of course, part of it! Our boss and his wolf are so powerful that even an average knight would struggle against them. We assumed the wine merchant would definitely be in Small Lake Village, so we thought we should attack there. But as we were planning our assault on the village upon arriving here, we heard the sound of knights’ horses moving.”

The man grimaced, recalling the past event and swallowed hard.

“Truth be told, we should’ve run at that time. But back then, we were all filled with gusto, thinking we could even defeat a knight’s squad with our force. Seeing the passing black knights, we were certain they were from the Black Lion Knights. Our leader first sent the signal. There were about five knights, we could’ve won. We were certain. Weren’t we? With thirty trained hunting dogs and sixty armed men, couldn’t we have defeated not just five, but more than fifty knights?”

He pointed to a tall tree on the hill where Dunmel stood.

“Our leader stood right there on that tree, luring the knights. The plan was simple. As they crossed the hill, we would ambush them with this force. But the black knights only stopped in their tracks, they didn’t fall for the bait. Just one of them approached the leader. It’s true. I’m not lying. There was only one. But as he got closer, we knew something was wrong. The horse that the knight was riding wasn’t a horse. It was some other animal, similar to a horse…”

Gerald was reminded of Sheyden’s story about the hoofbeats.

“The knight swung his axe, and the leader was killed. We were flustered, but we didn’t think about running. We were still brimming with recklessness. So, we all charged in. But the knight’s armor and shield wouldn’t let our swords penetrate, and the black knight’s horse was unaffected even when bitten by a wolf. It felt like fighting a boulder. I threw a rope and coiled it around the knight. We knew well how to fight against armored knights. Once such a guy is pulled down from his horse, he’s nothing. But the black knight caught my rope and hurled me away, rope and all. I don’t even remember how long I was airborne.”

He touched his head. His torn wound had already begun to fester.

“When I woke up, I found my friends dead like this. I don’t think even half of them survived. And I don’t know if the comrades whose bodies aren’t here survived. The remaining hunting dogs, oddly, became so frightened that they didn’t fight. It’s strange. I still don’t understand what happened.”

“If they weren’t the Black Lion Knights, who were they?”

“I don’t know. They were just… Weird. From the start, those knight guys were weird. They wore armor, but it seemed like they wore it not to protect themselves, but to hide their appearance. Perhaps the grim reaper that came down to punish us was hiding under that helmet.”

The bandit ended his story, fiddling with his toes and began to mumble again, unintelligibly.

“Thanks for sharing. Need help? It’s a lot for one person.”

Sheyden offered help for a task he did not want to do unless asked.

“No! I must send off all my friends myself.”

Fortunately, the man refused with a firm tone.

Sheyden didn’t force help on someone who clearly didn’t want it.

“Then let me ask one thing. What’s the fastest way to Normant?”

“There’s a river to the east. Follow the road by the river and you’ll get there soon.”

The bandit got up again, hoisting a dead hunting dog on his shoulder.

“Be careful. Those monsters are still roaming around here.”

“Thank you.”

Sheyden briefly thanked him and climbed up the hill again.

As Kassel struggled to climb the hill behind him, Sheyden asked,

“What do you think, Kassel?”

“About what?”

“The story of the black knight told by the Black Lion Knights yesterday and the black knight in the bandit’s story. They must be the same entity, right?”

“I think so. But… Isn’t something strange, just as he said?”

Gerald chimed in.

“Do we need to take a mad bandit’s words at face value?”

Sheyden agreed but said with a troubled look,

“I have a bad feeling.”

“Hey, you do know that if you worry like that, real trouble might happen, right? It’s something you wouldn’t want to be involved in. Mind your own business.”

Gerald spoke with a hint of annoyance.

“It’s not that my worries create trouble, it’s that I predict trouble ahead of time.”

“Conceited.”

Kassel, looking at their argument, was inexplicably smiling with delight.

“Why are you smiling?”

“It’s just delightful. Just watching the two of you argue makes me this happy, I must really like you both.”

“What?”

Gerald was startled.

‘This kid, he just lets out such warm words without hesitation! He’s dangerous, this kid. If I keep hearing these words, my heart, as hard as iron and sharp as a knife, might soften.’

Gerald was on guard.

Kassel, looking back, asked,

“Earlier, that man mentioned an incredible swordsman. Could he have been talking about Loyal? Is that why you kept asking?”

“Yes.”

Azwin spoke with conviction.

“There’s no coincidence. He left a day ahead of us, and since he causes trouble everywhere he goes, it’s only right to assume those problems are his.”

Even Gerald agreed with this.

As the bandit said, a river appeared. A road led alongside the river, but it was a narrow path barely wide enough for a carriage. If another carriage were to come from the opposite direction, it would be tricky to avoid a collision.

“Come to think of it, why do the soldiers of this country wear black armor?”

Gerald asked.

Nobody answered, so Gerald asked again.

“I’m asking you, Kassel.”

“Ah, well in my opinion…”

Despite his surprise at the question, Kassel’s answer flowed like a clear stream.

“After the knights of Excelon from Lontamon invaded in their black armor, it became a trend to dye your flags black or have knights in black armor. Even in Camort, I heard there are many knights in black armor, not just the Black Lion Knights. So, do you think these Black Knight incidents and the attacks on us by the assassins are connected?”

Kassel asked as though on the counterattack, and Gerald fumbled his response.

“Isn’t that a question for me?”

Helpfully, Sheyden took over the difficult question.

“Let’s not put too many events on the same timeline. We have enough complicated things going on already.”

Azwin, who had been silent, suddenly spoke up as if screaming in agony.

“Hey, Gerald! Didn’t you say something about your past?”

“Why are you suddenly digging into my past? What?”

“You mentioned something about being a mercenary?”

“That? What about it?”

Kassel looked at him, asking for an explanation. Gerald had no choice but to speak.

“I was in a mercenary group. There were a lot of skilled guys among my comrades, and some of the more ambitious ones formed an organization. It was called ‘Woodra Knights.’ It was designed to ambush knights or mercenaries without revealing their identities. Once their infamy grew, they would disband suddenly.”

“How were you guys different from a bandit group?”

“The plan was to take advantage of people’s love for gossip. We would create the Woodra Knights as a legendary demonic organization, then claim ‘we destroyed that organization!’ Because we were the ones who made it and claimed to destroy it, wouldn’t it be easy to lie? The ultimate goal was to use that fame to get hired by nobility or the royal family.”

“You did such terrible things?”

Kassel openly criticized him.

‘Huh? When he says it like that, it hurts.’

Gerald defended himself.

“Of course, I didn’t join. I didn’t like the name.”

Sheyden also criticized him.

“You really did a lot of pointless things. You even had a competition to see who could kill more people in a one-on-one fight? How little value do you put on a life?”

Gerald wasn’t too hurt by Sheyden’s criticism.

“That was when I was young, young! It didn’t even get implemented! That’s the important part.”

“Regardless, isn’t Gerald’s Woodra Knights similar to this? Causing pointless incidents everywhere.”

Azwin asked.

“Isn’t it still unknown whether there’s a purpose or not? We haven’t actually investigated it ourselves…”

Kassel was speaking when Sheyden suddenly interrupted.

Due to inertia, Azwin teetered, then fell from the roof of the carriage’s cargo compartment. But like a cat, she instantly regained her balance and, as if she had intended to do so all along, landed silently beside Kassel. Then, with one hand securing her body around Kassel’s neck for safety, she asked,

“Why did you stop, Sheyden?”

“There are those footprints again. Seems like they passed this road.”

Quietly, Sheyden added while looking under the carriage,

“And very recently.”

“Isn’t this getting a bit frustrating? I don’t know who this black knight is, but strangely, they seem to be taking the same route as us?”

Gerald spoke while leaning against the wall of the cargo compartment.

As if summarizing, Sheyden said,

“In terms of timing, we should be slightly behind. It was like that yesterday, and today as well.”

Azwin pondered deeply before asking,

“Are they running away from us?”

“No, they’re not. Why would they, whom we’ve never met, dodge us and run? They’re just going in the same direction.”

“Direction?”

“Where are we heading now? Normant. They’re heading for the capital.”

“Hmm, it’s strange. Does it have anything to do with us?”

Azwin let go of the arm she was holding around Kassel’s neck and stroked her chin.

Kassel said,

“As Sheyden said earlier, it’s better not to get involved right now. We’re already wrapped up in a complex situation.”

“Involved or not…”

Sheyden squinted and stared into the distance. As everyone’s gaze followed his, he continued.

“… It seems we missed the timing to avoid.”

“They’re fast! Are they coming this way?”

Gerald stuck his head out the cargo window to ask.

“If they’re coming this way on this narrow road, it must be us they’re coming towards.”

Sheyden said.

The dust kicked up by the horse, which appeared to be flying, was greater than that kicked up by the full-speed carriage. The large knight in black armor, riding a horse in black armor, held a very long axe in his hand. Initially holding the weapon with one hand, he switched to two just before reaching the carriage. The knight extended his slightly bent torso, which he had been using to control the horse.

“Get down.”

Azwin pressed down on Kassel’s nape, and the axe, creating a chilling wind sound, brushed over their heads. The black horse raced past the carriage, the massive two-handed axe slashed through the cargo compartment at the back. The axe blade then flew straight at Gerald’s face.

“You asshole!”

Gerald avoided the axe by lying back. The blade narrowly missed his nose. The carriage’s cargo compartment collapsed like a house of cards due to the broken support. Dunmel, who was riding on top, lost his balance and fell backward.

Sheyden, who had dodged to the side, shouted as he climbed back onto the carriage,

“Gerald, are you okay?”

“I’m not okay! That damned guy, I’m going to kill him!”

Gerald angrily picked up a large piece of wood that had fallen on him and tossed it to the side. The black knight who had ridden past the carriage turned his horse around in the distance and charged back towards them.

As Sheyden prepared to wield his spear, Gerald stopped him,

“I told you, I’ll do it.”

Gerald said with a somewhat excited voice, standing in front of the charging horse.

Azwin warned,

“Don’t confront him directly. That guy, he’s strong.”

“Who cares if he’s strong or what? Are you saying that to me right now?”

Gerald shouted confidently.

In a blink, the black knight closed the distance and swung his two-handed axe towards Gerald with the same force he’d used to smash the carriage. At the same time, Gerald also swung his raised axe down. The two iron masses collided, creating a loud noise.

The black knight’s axe shattered and, quite conveniently, a fragment flew towards the face of Kassel, who was foolishly watching. Azwin reached out and caught the flying iron shard just in front of his face.

“Ah…!”

Caught off guard, Kassel quickly pulled his head back. Azwin threw the axe fragments behind her.

“Thank you.”

Kassel said quickly, but Azwin did not reply, her attention fixed on the ensuing battle.

The horse that had passed Gerald took a few more steps before stumbling and collapsing. Dark red blood was gushing from its throat. The massive creature writhed spasmodically but made no sound. Its silent death was more horrifying than a loud, anguished one.

The owner of the horse, seemingly unconcerned about its death, stood up, discarded his broken double-handed axe, and drew the sword from his waist. He then resumed his brisk march towards Gerald.

“Normally, I wouldn’t bother conversing with a reckless brute like you, but who the hell are you?” Gerald asked.

The black knight replied in a bizarre voice that could hardly be described as human. Whether it was a response or just a grunt was unclear. The strange noise, which emanated from the narrow gaps of the helmet that hardly allowed visibility, did not sound like it belonged to a living being. It was a nauseating noise that made one want to cover their ears.

“It’s just like the sound of a thick soup burning.” Gerald shouted.

“You little bastard, did you just insult me?”

This time, there was no reply at all. The black knight approached Gerald, brandishing his sword. As Gerald dodged, he swung his axe. His adversary parried the heavy attack. The two separated briefly to size each other up before quickly clashing again.

“Aren’t you going to help?” Kassel asked, sounding pitiful.

“Wait a bit. Something is off about that black knight.” Sheyden replied.

“They’re fighting so fiercely, but I can’t sense any bloodlust or aggression.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It doesn’t seem like he’s alive.”

Hearing Sheyden’s words, Gerald felt the same.

Every time their weapons clashed, the air shook so violently it made one’s skin tingle. The opponent’s missed sword struck the ground like slicing through cake, then quickly retracted for another onslaught. It was an unimaginably powerful strength.

‘If I let my guard down, I’m done for.’ Gerald thought.

Having been merely defending, Gerald finally struck with a short cry, chopping off the black knight’s arm. The heavy metal-protected arm fell to the ground, sounding like an empty tin can.

The black knight stumbled backward. However, there was no sign of pain or disarray. He merely searched for the missing limb, then walked towards where it had fallen by the carriage. It was a laughable scene, as if he were picking up a lost button in the middle of a fight.

Uncertain whether to charge and aim for the neck, wait for him to get ready, or even ask if he was hurt, Gerald hesitated. Moreover, instead of blood, black smoke rose from the cut.

The severed arm still firmly grasped the sword. The black knight picked it up with the hand on the remaining arm and turned back towards Gerald.

With a frightened face, Gerald readied his axe. Never before in his mercenary life, not even after becoming a Wolf Knight, had he been less willing to fight an enemy.

Somewhere a horn sounded. Yet, the blaring noise was tainted with the grinding of metal, a sound so unpleasant it made everyone cringe.

Far from the road, another black knight was blowing a peculiar conch-like horn, covered with sharp spikes. Black smoke, similar to what had come from the severed arm of the first knight, spewed out of the horn’s opening. Despite the considerable distance, the sound felt uncomfortably close.

The black knight who had been attacking Gerald abruptly halted his assault and turned away. Gerald, in disbelief, looked towards his comrades. Everyone either shook their heads or shrugged.

Dunmel held a dagger in one hand and signaled with the other.

‘Should I follow?’

Gerald lowered his hand.

“No, let them go. It’s best not to attack.”

“Isn’t it better to capture them now?”

Azwin spoke, hesitating about whether to draw her sword.

“Look at that.”

Gerald pointed to a horse with its throat cut open by an axe. It bled so much that it drenched the dry ground, and the remaining blood pooled like a pond. However, the wound in the horse’s throat, which was about an inch wide, had somehow healed. The horse, though staggering a bit, stood up and began to move.

“Did it not die, or did it come back to life?”

Sheyden was so shocked that he couldn’t close his mouth. The black knight climbed onto the horse with an agility that made his heavy armor look like a circus performer’s costume. He then charged towards the black knight who held the horn.

The black knight with the horn glanced at the white wolves for a moment, then turned his horse and disappeared from view, followed by the knight who had fought with Gerald.

Gerald couldn’t tear his eyes away from the direction they disappeared. It was as if the black afterimage was still there.

“I didn’t think I would lose, but I didn’t think I would win either. That guy was something…”

Gerald struggled to find the right words.

“…Anyway, something incredibly, overwhelmingly strange.”

Dunmel approached and spoke to everyone in sign language. When everyone nodded in understanding, Kassel, who did not understand, asked what he said.

Azwin translated for him.

“Gerald said something similar. I think so too. That knight, he wasn’t a living being.”

“So, was that knight a ghost?”

Kassel blurted out what no one else wanted to say.

☆ ☆ ☆

The White Wolves and Kassel stopped for a while to have lunch.

“We can rest when we reach Normant, do we really need to stop?”

Gerald asked.

“Rather, we might not have time to rest once we get there.”

Kassel answered.

“Why?”

“I just have a feeling…”

As Kassel failed to explain, Sheyden stepped in.

“It’s a good idea to rest when you can.”

Gerald didn’t argue any further.

Everyone spread out to rest and eat.

After filling his stomach with dry bread, Kassel sat on the riverbank with a cup of freshly brewed tea. It had rained in Koholrun, but not here it seemed, as the water level was low and the riverbed was visible. Small fish were swimming upstream against the current.

Kassel examined the severed arm of the black knight that Gerald had cut off. He found no other traces in the metal itself. But the cold and ominous aura was still present.

Azwin came over.

“You seem drained.”

“Not at all. I’m having the happiest moments of my life.”

“You seemed so, until you met the owner of that arm.”

Azwin pointed at Gerald with her thumb. He had already forgotten about the fight and was chatting with Sheyden.

“Don’t worry. You’ve seen Gerald. He’s the most reliable guy in the entirety of the Wolf Knights. He just isn’t aware of it himself, but if we had a popularity vote for captain, he would probably win? His skills are also outstanding.”

Azwin spoke as proudly as a mother boasting about her child.

“Just think about it. He defeated that formidable knight who had defeated dozens of bandits with hunting dogs. And you have five such forces. You don’t have to be scared.”

“I don’t consider you all as military forces.”

Azwin sat down, crossing her legs, with a gratified smile at Kassel’s words.

“So what worries you, Captain?”

“I’m always grateful when you call me Captain, Azwin.”

“Why are you grateful for something like that?”

“To me, this position was a gift, a precious one, burdensome in its weight. Occasionally, I would jolt awake in surprise at the fact that you lay next to me, and marvel at how the axe Gerald playfully swung around surpassed the swordsmanship of all the mercenaries I knew. I cherished these moments,” he spoke softly.

Hearing this, she responded with a playful tone, “Those words make my stomach flutter. But you don’t look so happy right now, do you?”

“The way you put it, Gerald effortlessly defeated a formidable knight who could destroy a carriage with a single blow. Seeing that made me realize. They all say the five White Wolves are without equal. So, would you also have defeated that black knight just like Gerald?”

Kassel held up the severed arm of the black knight.

With exaggerated hand motions, Azwin replied, “Of course, I could have disposed of him more easily.”

“Seeing and hearing that only makes it more real to me. I’m not one of the White Wolves. I could never be. This position of Captain is temporary, merely a fleeting visit. I find myself grateful for the fact that I am a farmer. Hence, this moment of contemplation.”

Azwin shrugged her shoulders. “You’re not taking the title of Captain Wolf lightly because you think it’s temporary, are you?”

Kassel tapped his own head with the black knight’s severed arm. “I’ve been considering that. I’m the captain of people who can fight and beat such monsters. How should I behave then?”

Gerald spoke as he passed the carriage, eyeing Azwin, “What’s got you mulling over so intently?”

“Just something interesting.”

“Did Kassel share a fun story?”

“Yep, but I’ll keep it to myself.”

Gerald glanced slyly at Kassel, “Why is he holding that severed arm, though?”

“Who knows, a keepsake maybe?”

Azwin scratched her forehead, and Gerald quickly grabbed her wrist, “You’re bleeding from your hand!”

“Oh, really? I must have accidentally cut myself while catching the axe fragment earlier.”

Azwin replied nonchalantly, and Gerald wrapped her hand with a handkerchief, “Protecting the captain without regard for yourself is good, but don’t take these injuries lightly.”

Satisfied with his handiwork, he released her hand, “Thank you.”

Azwin fluttered her bandaged hand as she walked away. “Don’t go too far,” Gerald called out.

“If you’re that worried, follow me.”

Azwin, with her bandaged hand waving in the air, headed off towards the river.

‘Well, should I clear my head too? First, I need to figure out whether these black knights have anything to do with us heading towards Normant.’

Azwin set aside her playful persona for a moment.

‘Someone wants to stop us. They failed to prevent us from reaching Camort, so they attacked Count Godimer to cut off our support. According to the Count, one of the two counts is behind this. If they’re using various means to attack us, employing these strange monsters is just one of the methods.’

The White Wolves were always spontaneous, but sometimes Azwin needed to organize these facts. Especially when things got complicated as they were now, Sheyden was always the one to bear the worry, so Azwin would step in.

‘The unknown enemy is the main concern. If we were to worry, we should start from there.’

Azwin paused in her thoughts.

‘Or should I just not think at all? Should I stay the playful troublemaker? After all, we have someone else to bear the worries.’

Cases were rare where Azwin stepping in solved the issue, like when Loyal lost his sword.

‘Yes. I should just keep joking around. My sword works best then. My teacher also said so. My strongest self is when I am utterly carefree. Let’s leave the worrying to Kassel.’

As Azwin finished her business and was pulling up her pants, she felt a strong gaze on her. It wasn’t a lewd gaze spying on a woman.

Azwin tightened her belt, scanning the surroundings. Over the embankment, across the verdant field of grass, a black knight on horseback stood. He was standing so naturally, as if he belonged in the backdrop, looking in her direction. For a while, she found herself entranced by his surreal presence before her hand gradually reached for her sword.

She didn’t draw it hastily.

The grassy field that appeared amidst the barren plain was a pleasant sight. However, the spot where the black knight stood had a lifeless hue, with the grass drooping, devoid of vitality.

“It’s not an illusion,” Azwin thought. “There’s something there. Gerald, that battle junkie, hesitated to fight for that reason.”

The knight’s arms were rigid at his sides, indicating that he wasn’t the one Gerald had fought. Azwin didn’t avoid his gaze, but neither did she wish to prolong this standoff.

Though it looked like a horse, the knight’s steed was unlike any other. It pawed the ground in anticipation, tearing up chunks of grass and scattering them. It seemed eager to charge and bite Azwin, but the knight kept it in check with the reins.

The black knight pointed his lance directly at Azwin. The grass parted, creating a narrow path between her and the knight, wide enough for a snake to slither through. Even without wind, the edge of her clothes fluttered, and she felt a warm, humid gust on her face as if exhaled by a large animal.

Without realizing, Azwin turned her head aside, but her eyes remained fixed on the black knight. He didn’t threaten her with the raised lance, nor did he approach, but she didn’t let her guard down.

The trampled grass restored to its original state. A cool breeze blew, rustling the grass, and the dampness on Azwin’s face from the gust was replaced by a chilly touch. They both stood motionless, maintaining the initial distance.

With his lance-bearing hand, the knight fetched something from behind the saddle and tossed it in her direction. It fell about three paces ahead of her, rolling a few times with a thud. It was slightly larger than a helmet, coloring the grass red before ceasing its roll.

It was a dog’s head.

“My God, what’s this?” she thought.

The first real fight Azwin had encountered after learning to wield a sword and running away from home was against a villain who valued human lives as less than those of flies. His name was Butter, a horrific murderer whose adorable name didn’t suit him at all.

Azwin didn’t realize how powerful he was until she killed him and earned a substantial bounty. She had just been wondering where she could learn more about swordsmanship, or where she might have an adventure that would push her to her limits, as her teacher suggested. She had been wandering along a mountain trail.

Butter had rolled the freshly severed head of a woman he had just killed in front of Azwin as she walked towards him. Seeing the round object rolling down the hill, splattering blood, she froze on the spot. It was her first encounter with a corpse, and she hadn’t seen a more horrifying scene since.

After moving the decapitated woman’s body aside, Butter targeted Azwin as his next victim. He held an axe in one hand and a sword in the other. The thrown axe was aimed straight at her head. Azwin was momentarily stunned but managed to block the attack reflexively.

Without thinking, Azwin charged towards him, attacking relentlessly. She suffered a deep wound on her thigh, but she split open Butter’s belly in return. Seeing his intestines spill out in front of her wasn’t as horrifying as the woman’s head rolling down the hill.

“That was a dog, not the woman’s head I saw then.”

Knowing this didn’t stop Azwin from recalling that gruesome scene. Her grip on the sword hilt tightened.

“So, it was them who wiped out the bandit group along with their hounds.”

Azwin tried to calmly piece together the situation, but it wasn’t easy.

“He pointed at me before throwing the dog’s head. As if he knew I’d be scared of something like that, as if he singled me out.”

The Black Knight retracted his spear and pulled his horse to step aside, then vanished into the distance.

Azwin withdrew her hand from her sheathed sword. The handkerchief Gerald had bound her with was soaked in sweat and blood.

Everyone was waiting when Azwin returned to the carriage.

“Why are you so late? Did you take a nap or something?”

Gerald started yelling but stopped in his tracks.

Sheyden also asked in surprise.

“What happened to you? Did you see something you shouldn’t have?”

“What? Is there something wrong with my face?”

Azwin tried to play it cool.

“You look pale. What on earth happened? And why are you so late?”

“Late? I only went to check something out for a bit.”

“At least half an hour passed. We were about to go looking for you.”

Gerald pointed out.

‘Was that half an hour? Staring down that son of a bitch after looking at the dog’s head?’

Azwin gathered everyone and relayed what she had just experienced.

They all found it unbelievable. Gerald, on the other hand, was furious.

“Why didn’t you run after him and kill him right away? Why did you hold back?”

Azwin usually could counter Gerald’s remarks, but this time, she couldn’t.

“I felt like running away, rather than attacking. For that moment, I didn’t feel like myself.”

Kassel offered her a water pouch, and Azwin gulped it down in one go.

“I’m not sure if it’s just a feeling, but I think they know about us. It was like a warning.”

Azwin declared with certainty.

“And as Sheyden said, they are ahead of us on the way to Normant.”

☆ ☆ ☆

The atmosphere within the White Wolves changed dramatically after Azwin’s encounter with the Black Knight.

Gerald, who was silently gripping his axe and staring ahead, was not just serious but intimidating. Azwin sat next to him, focusing on the distance while staring ahead. However, sitting in front of Kassel made her uncomfortable. Sheyden, like the other two, did not seem particularly lively, but his silence was overpowering. Dunmel, as always, was the same.

‘Which one is the real face of the White Wolves? This one? Or when they were laughing and chatting?’

In truth, before meeting them, Kassel had imagined the White Wolves like this — hard to approach, their destructive power and charisma silencing everyone around them. But upon seeing the image he had expected, Kassel found himself longing for the times when his expectations had been proven wrong. He took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the suffocating heaviness of the atmosphere.

It felt like going back to the inn room where he first met Sheyden and defended himself while being surrounded by everyone.

“There isn’t much time before we reach Normant, so I want to say something…”

Kassel broke the silence.

Although everyone listened, there was no particular response.

“Sheyden and I already talked about it, but once we enter Normant, there might not be time for such conversations. The moment we set foot in there, we’ll attract everyone’s attention. We won’t even have time for secret discussions. So, I think I should say this now. I want to say a lot and hear a lot too, but there’s not enough time and even if you heard it, you wouldn’t be able to remember it. So, I would like to set a rule for our actions from now on.”

“So, something like ‘let’s stick to this, no matter what’?”

Sheyden responded. Kassel wanted to thank him for replying. Silence and stares were hard to bear.

“Yes, if someone takes the lead when something happens, the rest of us should follow.”

While saying this, Kassel unknowingly brandished the severed arm of the knight he was holding. Azwin laughed.

“Are you carrying that around to store it as a trophy?”

Gerald burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry. But this thing is so weird I can’t throw it away. Look. It’s been exposed to the sun for so long, yet it’s as cold as if it was just pulled out of the snow.”

Silence fell again. Especially Azwin, who stared at the severed arm with a frightening look.

Just as Kassel was about to say something again, Gerald raised his hand.

“Alright, alright. If you move first, we follow. If we move first, you follow! Remember that. If you can’t bear it, feel free to act as you wish, alright?”

“Even if someone hastily ruins our plans, we should still follow them.”

As Kassel spoke, Azwin finally loosened her expression and said,

“If someone’s going to ruin it, it’s going to be Gerald.”

“I guess so.”

Gerald admitted.

Then Sheyden motioned to everyone.

“We have a few visitors again. They’re not in black armor though.”

As the walls of Normant came into view, a few knights draped in white cloaks, brandishing the banner of the Black Lion, were seen galloping toward them from afar.

“But, Captain?”

Azwin asked, watching their approach.

“Yes?”

“I am sure if I were in the same situation, I would act as I please. But I still want to ask your opinion. Can you respond without saying, ‘you handle it as you see fit?'”

“Mmm, alright.”

“The next time that black knight who screwed me over appears, should I just try to identify him by talking or restraining him, or should I just attack?”

It was a discussion about battle, so Kassel almost reflexively responded with, “Handle it as you see fit.” It was apparent from Azwin’s expression that she had already decided what to do. She must have been considering this all along, so by the time she found her answer, it was ready. But she was still seeking his approval. It was flattering but burdensome.

“Attack.”

“If you want the other arm too, I can gift it.”

Azwin smiled brightly as if she heard the response she wanted.

“No, that won’t be necessary…”

Kassel quickly rejected the offer, not doubting for a second that she would do it.

The knights draped in white cloaks, led by the knight on a white horse, stopped at a distance where they could recognize each other’s faces. Sheyden halted the carriage as well.

“Did you come from Aranthia?”

The knight on the white horse shouted vigorously.

Kassel responded,

“Yes, we did. Are you knights of the Black Lion Count?”

The knight on the white horse signaled the others to stop and came alone towards the carriage.

“So you are the White Wolves?”

The behavior was far more courteous than the band of Black Lion knights who surrounded the carriage last time.

“The Count is waiting for you right now. Will you allow us the honor of escorting you?”

The knight took off his helmet and smiled. He was a very handsome blond youth, especially polite toward Azwin. Azwin watched his face intently, like a cat that had spotted a butterfly.

‘The familiarity of the black armor isn’t easy to forget.’

No matter how handsome and polite he was, Kassel found it impossible to have a good first impression of him.

“Perhaps if you were the Normant Guard or the Royal Knights, but why would we let you escort us? I’m not sure if that’s an honor or not, but we have no intention of granting that honor to the Black Lion knights.”

Kassel purposely spoke sharply.

The knight continued his proposal with a polite smile,

“My name is Bading. Please forgive the incident yesterday. My subordinates lost their sanity due to excitement.”

“It’s unacceptable for knights to lose their courtesy toward each other just because they’ve lost their sanity.”

Kassel was about to probe deeper, but he held back. Bading looked so at ease that it would seem petty to press further. Kassel changed the topic,

“Anyway, we’ve forgotten about that already. We just came to this country with the intention of seeing His Majesty. We don’t think it’s respectful to accept the Count’s escort. We’ll go without an escort.”

“We’ve already discussed it with His Majesty. You probably weren’t treated properly in Koholrun. Our lord is worried you might have misunderstood the nobility of Camort, so he instructed us to escort you politely.”

‘Wow, he has a good voice. I’m jealous. His tone is full of composure, he’s respectful, and his expressions are natural. In comparison, my face must be quite stern right now.’

Kassel had no good reason to refuse, so he agreed.

“Fine. However, I insist on meeting your King in his presence.”

“Of course.”

Bading turned on his heel, his white cape majestically fluttering before Kassel.

‘Plus, he’s handsome.’

Kassel inwardly grimaced.

“Assume escort formation.”

At Bading’s command, the knights swiftly surrounded the carriage. They made a magnificent sight, too grandiose for the task of guarding an old, battered carriage. As the shining armor and white capes enveloped the surroundings, Kassel felt like a prisoner being transported.

‘This isn’t good. I’m starting to feel belittled.’

As if reading Kassel’s mind, Sheyden quietly initiated a conversation.

“Kassel.”

“Yes?”

Kassel had a hunch about what was coming, but he merely listened quietly.

“From now on, it’s your battle. In a war where you can’t use a sword, even the finest blade will rust. And never forget that you are the captain of the White Wolves. If you forget that, we all risk danger, and rather than face that risk, we would choose to abandon you.”

It was a repetition of the warning given before they arrived, yet Kassel found his fists unknowingly clenching at the last words.

“I understand.”

Kassel responded firmly, but he lacked confidence.

‘Can I really say that I understand?’

The White Wolves were knights from a foreign land. As Sheyden said, if things went south, they could quietly return to Aranthia. There would be no one to stop them if they declared non-interference in Camort’s internal affairs and left. Even if things went severely wrong, they had the capability to escape by force.

‘It’s different for me. If I’m exposed in the royal court as not the true Captain Wolf, I will die. That’s what Sheyden meant by his threat to abandon me. It will once again become a battle for my life.’

Quietly, Kassel drew the Aranthian sword. The drawn black blade gleamed. He grasped the blade tightly in his hand.

‘A captain who leads a team poorly is better off not being there at all.’

Drops of crimson blood splattered onto Kassel’s pants from the blade.

Silently observing it, Kassel made a vow.

‘The White Wolves must become brilliant magic swords. They cannot become rusted swords because of me.’

–TL Notes–
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