White Wolves – Chapter 126

Gerald swung his axe high and stumbled back down the stairs. The Lemif soldiers, filling the staircase, glared with hatred as if he had killed their king. Gerald watched their timing and suddenly swung his axe, sending spear shafts tumbling down the stairs.

“I didn’t kill your king! You saw it. If you try to kill me, I won’t just stand here!”

Gerald reached the very end of the staircase and shouted loudly. The Lemifs, not understanding human speech, continued their assault. Gerald raised his axe and jumped down the stairs.

The Lemifs’ spear shafts, sticking out like porcupine quills, snapped, and those in his path fell backward. Gerald, having landed amidst the Lemifs, broke through the encirclement with a few swings of his axe. Several soldiers were injured, but none died.

“Ah, just recently I befriended ones with faces like yours, and now I can’t bring myself to kill you. Rontlos, can’t you tell them to back off?”

Gerald shouted.

“I’ve been saying that. But they simply won’t listen.”

Rontlos replied regretfully.

“Fools.”

Gerald pointed his axe at two Excellon knights standing with crossed arms in front of the temple.

“Hey, you two! If you’re knights, stop just giving orders from above and come down and fight.”

The two Excellon knights did not respond.

Gerald took a few more steps back. Dozens of Lemifs began to surround him in one corner of the square, and more and more soldiers joined in. Gerald licked his lips.

“This is hardly a knight’s job. Looks like I’m back to my mercenary days.”

He then gazed through a gap at Azwin.

With a powerless smile, he raised his axe.

“Thought I’d never get here, but why is the path to you so long? I’m too tired to go back, might as well do what I want now.”

Gerald, who had been avoiding and blocking until now, suddenly charged. His axe cleaved through Lemif flesh and shattered bones. It was the ‘first’ attack after making a horizontal spin, which had been merely a feint to retreat before.

The circle of Lemifs broke apart as if a spell had exploded in the center. It was impossible to tell how many had died, but all those surrounding him were thrown back, drenched in Lemif blood.

A Lemif, his throat cut, managed to walk four steps and knelt before its comrades. The blood spurting from it flooded the square, joining other streams of blood to form a creek.

After the first axe strike, the direction of the second and third attacks was unclear to the Lemifs. They were obscured from each other’s view, and by the time they thought they had located Gerald, another body had already fallen. There was no proper encirclement or coordinated attack.

A Lemif spread its wings wide and soared above Gerald, attempting to stab down with its spear. Gerald twisted his body, dodging the spear and slicing from the opponent’s chest down to the abdomen in one stroke. What looked like clumps of flesh or entrails splattered onto the ground. The heat and moisture from the blood rose like steam.

Now, it was unclear who was surrounding whom. Young Lemif soldiers, unaccustomed to such fighting, fled in terror. Gerald attacked only those who resisted and let the fleeing soldiers escape.

No longer could Tachisel’s soldiers dare to attack Gerald. Standing atop the corpses of Lemifs, Gerald slung his blood-soaked axe over his shoulder. He took a short breath and massaged his neck, no longer looking towards the Lemifs.

At first, Azwin thought he had finished the fight and was looking at her. But his gaze was actually fixed on the forest behind her.

“Well, well. I saw something piled up behind the village earlier… never thought it was meant to be a pet.”

The beasts’ heavy panting filled the air. Azwin wanted to ask Rontlos what these strange creatures swarming around Gerald were, but even Rontlos was too terrified to speak. It seemed that even the Lemifs from Tachisel, who might have encountered these beasts often, had all retreated.

“Mozes.”

Rontlos said, referring to a furry creature with a blunt nose and blood-red eyes.

“I heard these creatures were being created in Putier. They’re monsters that shouldn’t exist in the Sky Mountains.”

Azwin intended to tell Gerald to retreat and save himself, but he was already surrounded.

The Mozes were not afraid of Gerald’s axe like the Lemifs. Instead, they pushed their comrades forward towards Gerald, using them as shields to advance. Gerald, noticing this, sliced through two at once, but another clawed at his back.

Gerald tried to run sideways to avoid being surrounded, but in the open square, that proved difficult. Eventually, his ankle was caught, and he was surrounded by more than ten Mozes.

One bit into Gerald’s shoulder, another clawed at his leg, another clung to his head, and another grasped his axe.

Gerald shouted and threw off the Moze clinging to his face, kicked the one biting his thigh, and with one movement, flung away the one attempting to stab him with its sharp nails and the one hanging onto his axe.

Gerald swung his axe and punched relentlessly, but there were limits. As soon as he cleared a space by killing one, another Moze filled the gap and clung to him.

Azwin watched Gerald fighting, spellbound.

‘So this is what he meant by fighting like a mercenary, not a knight?’

Despite allowing numerous minor attacks, Gerald never sustained a fatal wound. Surrounded and attacked, he didn’t rush. He calmly sliced through the Mozes entering his sight, reducing their numbers. He dominated the physically aggressive beasts with speed, and those that attacked with speed, he overpowered with strength.

Even though there were more corpses of Mozes than of Lemifs, the number of these monsters seemed unending. Initially, the blood flowing from him was that of the Lemifs, but then it became that of the Mozes, and now it was his own.

Gerald gasped for breath. Yet, the Mozes kept rushing at him from all sides. He headbutted a Moze charging straight at him, knocking it down and severing its neck with his axe. Blood spurted from Gerald’s forehead.

At some point, Gerald began limping. Whether he was moving consciously or just on reflex, Azwin couldn’t tell. Gerald himself might not know. The usual sparkle was gone from his eyes, and only the persistence of enduring pain remained on his lips, which never ceased to smile.

Azwin, sharing his pain, gasped for breath. And now she knew that Gerald had reached his limit.

☆ ☆ ☆

“I’ll tell you this.”

Sheyden said to Billy, who had been persistently asking, ‘who is the strongest?’

“There’s a girl named Azwin. There are three women in the Wolf Knights, and Azwin is one of them. She always knows the condition of the knights beside her and can quickly assess their capabilities. That’s why our formation changes when Azwin is with us and when she’s not. I can’t say about individual fighting, but if the Wolf Knights are really going into battle, Azwin needs to be there. However, it’s true that she falls short in typical one-on-one fights compared to other White Wolves.”

Sheyden, his story growing long, settled down by a nearby tree and sat. Billy sat beside him. Sheyden continued talking.

“If I had to pick the most fearsome person based on my standards, it would be Dunmel. When that guy takes up his bow and assumes a long-range shooting stance, who dare face him? Even if somehow you dodged all the arrows, his combat style changes completely once he holds a dagger. I’m still grateful that Dunmel is not an enemy.”

“What about Loyal? I heard from Suvel that he’s incredible?”

Billy asked.

“Incredible? It’s embarrassing to admit, but I still can only win about three or four times out of ten. Unless I make myself heavier and mount a horse during a battle situation.”

“I saw your duel with Captain Welch. That’s why I hoped you were the best among the White Wolves. I’d be frustrated if there were someone better than you.”

Sheyden smiled bitterly, recalling his fight with Welch.

“Even so, in the urgent circumstances of a battlefield, whether it’s a one-on-one or a knightly duel, fighting madly without rules…, assuming that, no one can match Gerald.”

Sheyden scratched his head.

“Let’s see. Come to think of it, we had this conversation among ourselves too, right?”

“Among yourselves, you mean among the White Wolves?”

“Yes. That’s when Azwin said this, I still remember. It was quite an impressive analysis.”

Sheyden nodded as he spoke.

“Azwin stood up suddenly and said, ‘Put me up against Gerald. Then I’ll show you by beating the other three of you!’ That ended that pointless debate right there. None of us could refute her words.”

☆ ☆ ☆

Azwin, chained and numb at the ankles to the point of bleeding without noticing, pulled her body forward. She couldn’t just sit and watch Gerald being bitten and stabbed by the Mozes from a distance, as he slashed each one.

“Release me!”

Her throat was burning with thirst, hardly allowing any sound to escape. She kept screaming in her hoarse voice.

“Release me! I’ll show you the fangs of two White Wolves. I’ll show you how strong a pack led by a female can be. Release me, you bastards! I’ll show you how strong Gerald and I can be together.”

Azwin wanted Redward to hear these words, but he was too far away. And her voice was too weak.

“Release me!”

Then Redward blew a horn. At that moment, Azwin thought Redward had heard her voice. But he hadn’t.

“No!”

Azwin knew what that horn was used for.

‘No, we can’t face what that horn summons in such an open space!’

Redward blew the horn. Gerald, tangled with the Mozes, didn’t hear it. He also failed to see the enormous beast that emerged, covered in black scales like armor.

It was the Kagua.

And it was a head taller than the Kagua Azwin had faced before.

The Kagua leaned against one side of the temple’s ceiling, slowly bowed its head, and opened its mouth. It had double rows of teeth. The air around it was sucked into the beast’s mouth, gathering in front of the dragon-like creature’s jaws.

The Kagua’s mouth was aimed towards Gerald.

“Gerry, dodge!”

Azwin screamed at the top of her lungs. A black flame burst from the Kagua’s mouth.

The flames emitted by the Kagua were twice as intense as that Azwin had faced. Gerald, turning his head too late, was swept up by the black flames. The intensity forced even Azwin, at some distance, to turn her head.

“Gerry!”

Azwin shouted, but by then the blackened flames had already covered a third of the square.

The Mozes that had been biting and clinging to Gerald, as well as those nearby surrounding them, were swept away to the edges of the village by the flames. The charred bodies of the Mozes fell to the ground like hail, breaking apart into black cinders.

Azwin thought one of the burning chunks was Gerald. But there he stood, unaffected in the place the flames had passed. Wisps of steam-like black smoke rose from his body, but not a hair on his head was singed.

Azwin, and even Rontlos, were shocked, their mouths agape. The enemies were surely just as stunned.

“Phew, that was close.”

Gerald was holding a large sword instead of his axe. It had been strapped to his back from the beginning but hadn’t been used. A strong red light, overpowering the sunlight, burst from the blade, pushing away every bit of smoke remaining on his body.

‘Where did that come from?’

Gerald, wiping the blood on his cheek with his shoulder, said,

“What? No wings, so you’re not Guanil? Then I shouldn’t be using this sword on you…”

Gerald hefted the large sword over his shoulder.

“Ah, whatever. If I can’t beat him with my own strength… What’s that thing you’re supposed to say at a time like this! Yes. That.”

Gerald shouted loudly, pulling the sword back with both hands.

“In the name of Knadil, I shall smite thee!”

And then he hurled the sword as tall as himself towards the Kagua. The sword spun through the air with a terrifying noise, tracing a large semi-circle towards the Kagua. It looked as though it might miss, and the Kagua merely watched the trajectory of the flying sword.

It seemed a bit foolish. In fact, the sword might not have looked very threatening to him, considering it was not particularly large compared to his own body.

The red sword, emitting a brightness that even the sun couldn’t outshine, plunged straight towards the Kagua’s face as if being sucked in. At that moment, the red light scattered dazzlingly in all directions. The black flames still burning here and there across the square extinguished like candles in the wind.

With the sword embedded in its forehead, The Kagua held its head up stiffly like a stick. Then, slowly, it let its head drop to the side. It broke the corner of the temple with its chin, and the crumbling rubble fell onto Redward and Nathan who were standing nearby.

The two dodged in opposite directions. Redward rolled towards the square, while Nathan fell on the opposite side of the temple.

Redward, with a dazed expression, examined the dead the Kagua. Even from a distance, it was clear that the Kagua had died instantly.

‘Dead? Really? This creature that looked like it could devour all the animals of the Sky Mountains, killed by just that sword?’

To call it ‘just that sword’ might be an understatement given the burst of red light that had just exploded. Whatever it was, it was clear that Gerald had somehow obtained a weapon capable of slaying dragons.

Redward, looking like someone who had seen the impossible, said,

“This really complicates things. To lose three Kaguas in just three days. Now I’ve got no face to show to the captain!”

Redward growled and drew a sword from his waist, advancing towards Gerald with quick steps.

“Shut up! Do you think I don’t regret using that sword on a monster that’s not even Guanil?”

Gerald, having momentarily set down his axe to wield Knadil’s whatever sword, picked up his axe again. However, unlike Redward’s confident approach, he limped forward.

“Don’t mess with me. You barely have the strength to walk, yet you made it this far.”

Redward walked almost at a run and slashed his sword down without hesitation. Even watching from the side, the speed and power of the attack were chilling.

‘That guy’s strong. If I had met Redward instead of Holten that time, I would have lost.’

Gerald managed to block Redward’s sword but was knocked back by the impact.

Redward relentlessly pressed him. Each attack was so forceful it could have been a finishing blow. As Gerald was pushed back further and further until he had no strength left to retreat, he staggered and his knees buckled.

Redward did not miss his chance and swung his sword again. However, Gerald, seemingly too weak to even keep his legs steady, twisted his body with unexpected speed. The blade deeply slashed across Gerald’s left shoulder, but Gerald’s axe, held in his right hand, struck up towards Redward’s face.

Blood from both weapons splashed onto the ground, sticky with Moze’s blood. Gerald, nearly falling, raised his axe and staggered, planting his hands in the dirt. But the ground was slippery, and he ended up face down. He tried to rise but lacked the strength, flailing like a child in water, barely managing to prop his upper body up.

All this time, Redward stood frozen in the stance of his last swing. Blood flowed like water from his bisected jaw. Slowly fixing his gaze on Gerald, Redward tried to lift his sword again. However, his body did not move forward towards Gerald, but instead, he fell backwards and did not rise again.

There was an axe mark splitting his face from the jaw up through his forehead.

Gerald stood up using his axe as a support. He clutched his bleeding shoulder with his hand, but the cut was too deep to stop the bleeding.

“Fortunate. It moved.”

Gerald confessed in a faint voice that his last swing had been a lucky one.

Gerald stood towering in the square, where a horrifying number of Mozes lay scattered, crushed underfoot. Many had been scorched by the Kagua’s flames, but it all seemed as if it was his doing.

Among the Lemifs, one, seeing Gerald drenched in his own and others’ blood, spoke with a trembling voice.

“Viarde…”

“Viardro og Ka-Drok.”

“Ka-Drok!”

The Lemifs were instantly seized by terror. Some screamed or ran away, while others bowed their heads to Gerald, trembling in fear. The soldiers, having lost their will to fight, threw away their spears and knelt.

At the center of it all, Gerald remained indifferent to the phenomenon.

Azwin, not understanding, asked Rontlos.

“Why are they acting like that?”

“They’re calling Gerald the specter of Ka-Drok. Some even say that Drok has come back to life…”

Rontlos was also astonished.

Now, the only Excellon knight remaining in front of Gerald was Nathan, who had drawn his sword. Gerald, leaning on his axe instead of a staff, didn’t even try to lift it and said,

“I guess I chose wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

Nathan approached Gerald and said,

“I was just thinking I should have killed the Kagua with the axe and then faced you with Knadil’s sword.”

Gerald smiled, revealing blood-stained teeth.

Nathan returned a cold smile.

“Indeed. Then we would have witnessed a clash between Guanil’s sword and Knadil’s sword.”

Nathan drew his sword, and black smoke trailed from the blade.

☆ ☆ ☆

Victor stood on a rock, surveying the distant Sky Mountains. The Venon, who had carried him without rest, lay down to take a break.

‘The affair in the Sky Mountains will soon be settled.’

Much had changed from the original plan and it had taken many detours, but finally, the real battle he had been preparing for ten years was about to begin. Under Count Shraighton’s orders, he had created Excellon, incited a continental war, climbed the Sky Mountains to kill dragons, and instigated the Lemifs to destroy themselves—a long time had passed.

It was only very recently that Victor received news from the person he served. Surprisingly, it was Ruskin from Lutia, the Grand Master, who delivered it.

In the crystal ball Ruskin showed, that person bore a completely different face from the one Victor knew. However, Victor quickly recognized that he was indeed the Lord of the Undying.

‘Are the preparations complete?’

The voice of that person, coming over the barrier of the Sky Mountains, was too muffled to hear clearly. Hence, the questions and answers were brief. There had never been long conversations with him.

‘It’s done.’

‘Well done. Begin.’

From then on, they officially attacked the cities of the Lemifs, killed Nontil, and invaded Lutia. Victor had a plan prepared for ten years and, above all, Nathan, whom he had trained for ten years. Other disciples of the first Excellon Knight Division had also grown well, but none as much as Nathan.

The thrill was palpable as he imagined the assault led by Nathan and the main force he commanded hitting Ganelock. Humanity would face an army terrifying like none before in history.

‘Are you ready, Nathan?’

‘Yes, Captain.’

Victor had asked in advance and received the response he expected. He then got the Venon up and headed towards Tachisel.

“I wonder how Nathan is doing.”

☆ ☆ ☆

Ever since the fight with Redward, Azwin had been thinking with Gerald’s perspective. Assuming Gerald’s eyes, Gerald’s strength, and that she was wielding Gerald’s weapon, she calculated everything as if she was the one fighting. So when Nathan approached, she felt the same fear as Gerald.

Azwin quickly tried to anticipate what attack and movement Nathan would make. But Gerald hardly had the strength left to lift his axe. Even knowing the opponent’s attack, it was difficult to counter.

Nathan positioned his drawn sword in front of Gerald’s face. Azwin and Gerald both shrugged their shoulders. It was true they were taken aback by how close he had gotten, more than they had calculated.

Despite Gerald being sensitive to even such small movements, Nathan said something really unexpected.

“I’ll start with an apology.”

Gerald, he probably won’t even be surprised. However, Azwin was truly shocked. She couldn’t believe that in front of an opponent who could be defeated merely by brandishing a sword, that man was inexplicably apologizing.

And he was even giving him time to rest.

“Uh… oh. I’m really bad at handling these crafty tricks?”

Gerald scratched his neck. Due to the claws of the Mozes tearing his skin, scratching it only increased the bleeding.

Nathan chuckled as he removed his helmet. With hair nearly the same color as Gerald’s and an unshaven beard covering his chin and cheeks evenly, he had a gentle-looking face and blue eyes. The two men were about the same age.

Azwin was a bit flustered.

‘Didn’t she say that those guys have been rolling around the Sky Mountains for about ten years? Then how old was this guy when he joined the Excelon’s 1st Knights? He doesn’t just look young.’

Even though Gerald was tired of being surrounded by the numerous bodies he had slain, Nathan seemed almost unconcerned. He was only scanning the bodies of the Kagua, who had been killed by a forehead blow from a red-gleaming sword, and Redward.

‘It’s not because he’s sad or angry about his comrade’s death. He’s analyzing. How his comrade died, how he himself would fight.’

Azwin involuntarily tensed her stomach.

“I am Nathan of the Excelon’s 1st Knights.”

Gerald looked towards Azwin and smiled as if to say, ‘Did you just hear what he said?’

“I am Gerald of the White Wolves. Though it’s our first meeting, I actually really wanted to meet you.”

Nathan let his sword hang loose and asked.

“Do you know me?”

“You appear in a prophecy of some Lemif. It says you die at my hands…”

A smile creased Nathan’s stoic face. His relaxed blue eyes were calculating all the strength and speed in Gerald’s arms and legs, and even in his axe.

Azwin knew too well what those eyes meant.

‘Loyal.’

Loyal’s seemingly dumb, comfortable eyes could read all the information about an opponent in a short time.

Loyal couldn’t explain it, but based on that information, he instinctively knew how to find an opponent’s weaknesses and stab at them. He even knew how to predict and counter an opponent’s next move without wanting to, and how to defend.

Azwin sensed that Nathan was in every way similar to Loyal.

“To say such things even in this moment is impressive. I have met many knights and fought many skilled ones, but I have never met someone like you. You said the White Wolves? I’m well aware. You’re the White Wolf who severed my captain’s arm.”

“Hey, how can you omit the important parts? What’s the name of the one you serve and which Wolf Knight severed his arm?”

“Both are not to be mentioned here…”

The moment Nathan spoke, Gerald’s axe swung out. No one standing nearby sensed the sudden strike, and the Lemifs watching from a distance were surprised only after Gerald had swung his axe and exhaled a couple of times.

Azwin almost felt the sharpness of Gerald’s attack as if the axe had passed right next to her.

The opponent Loyal first refused to fight was Gerald. After Azwin defeated Loyal, they both reached a similar level of skill around the same time, albeit by different methods that shocked each other.

Gerald’s method was the closest to that of Master Quain. He had learned how to swing his axe without any recoil. If the weighty attack flew without any telltale signs, one might be able to parry it with a sword about once in two tries, but enduring Gerald’s strength was not easy.

Sometimes, Gerald could even push Loyal out of the arena with a wooden sword. After falling out this way, Loyal spent a month studying how to block that attack before standing before Gerald again.

‘That was the attack Loyal spent a month figuring out how to defend against. No matter how drained Gerald’s strength might have been, this attack didn’t matter. All you need is to remove any sign and time the strike right. I would have used this attack too. And Gerald must have thought it was his last resort…’

The axe flying towards Nathan’s neck was halted by Nathan’s hand grasping the handle. It was astounding in itself, but Nathan didn’t stop there; as if he had been waiting, he thrust the sword in his right hand at Gerald’s face. Gerald also grabbed the blade with his bare hand. The axe and sword were fixed, each targeting the other’s neck.

In that position, Nathan finished what he was saying.

“…names aren’t necessary, let’s drop them. What’s important now is this fight. Let’s leave out who we belong to, here in this moment.”

Blood flowed from Gerald’s palm down Nathan’s sword blade. Nathan was the first to let go of the axe handle.

“That was a fine surprise attack. And good concentration too.”

Gerald also released the sword he was holding. Their weapons returned to their original places. Nathan explained,

“But you rushed it. Even though you’re severely injured, you’re the type who sharpens focus under such conditions, right? I too, watching your fight with Redward, blocked all those axe swings in my mind, barely keeping my concentration up. Isn’t it too precious to end such a fight with a half-hearted surprise attack?”

“So what should we do? How about we take up wooden swords and the first to win two out of three rounds wins?”

Nathan suppressed a laugh.

Azwin was calculating his attack range, unknowingly fidgeting and moving her tied hands, trying to figure out which direction was open and which he preferred to dodge…

Was he the type to hold back until the last moment to deliver a decisive technique, or the type to insert minor attacks while playing a mind game with the opponent! However, at this stage, only one thing was clear.

Nathan was flawless.

“Redward might have been hasty, but he wasn’t easy to trick or careless. That is, even in such a state, you were stronger. That’s what I would like to apologize for. Dragging a great knight into such a trivial fight…”

“Shut up, you brat! Is confusing me your strategy?”

Gerald leaned his axe against the ground and stood askew, visibly tired.

Azwin felt uneasy just seeing Gerald in that position where he could be reached if the opponent thrust a sword. But Nathan did not attack that gap. Perhaps there was a fierce standoff between them that Azwin couldn’t see from her distance.

Nathan smirked and said,

“Honestly, it’s a bit of a shame. Our fight would make a great tale for bards who love to gossip.”

“What’s there to regret?”

“Don’t you think it’s regrettable? I’ve never lost a single duel since I stood here, learning the sword from my captain and having received this sword from Guanil, even dragons have come within my range. And here appears a knight from Aranthia who killed a Kagua? Yet here I am, having ridden a Venon all night to get here, not in proper condition, and that knight of Aranthia can barely stand without his axe… Isn’t that regrettable?”

“If you’re going to drag out an apology, how about giving me a day to rest? You could rest too. Then when the bell rings tomorrow morning, we fight again.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Because I killed your comrade?”

“A knight dying in battle is neither a crime nor a badge of honor.”

“Because I’ve killed too many Lemifs? Or these monsters?”

Nathan gestured towards the Lemifs gathered nearby.

“The beasts you killed today are ‘very’ plentiful in Putnai and Larunton. Getting angry over the ones you killed today is like being angry at someone for scooping sand at the beach with a shovel. Killing Lemifs? That’s their own business. However…”

Nathan slowed his speech again.

“It would be problematic for it to become known that you are the specter of Ka-Drok. It could affect the Lemifs in Tachisel as well as those in Putnai.”

“I’ve heard it a few times, but what specter is that?”

“It’s the guardian dragon of Tachisel. Drok, who was worshipped as a god by the Lemifs, was killed by them. In the moment his life was exhausted, Drok uttered a terrible curse. He said he would reappear in the form of an Ugeh to kill the king of Tachisel and the ‘monster in the form of a dragon’ that drove him to death, and by doing so, bring about the ruin of Tachisel…”

“It sounds more like a poem than a curse.”

“That curse has instilled great fear among the Lemifs here. But you have appeared here exactly fitting the description of that curse’s language.”

“But I didn’t kill the king here.”

“To the Lemifs, it seemed that way. Redward made it look like you killed him. The Lemifs will interpret your existence according to that curse. In the worst way! So, I can’t just let you go. It’s easier to kill you here and make them believe you aren’t the specter of Ka-Drok.”

Nathan slowly raised his sword above his head. Like the blade of an executioner, it moved along a set path, and Gerald did not move.

“Ah, so the dragon Drok was female? Right?”

“Yes. Most importantly, that woman is currently tied up. Executing her through a proper ritual will completely eradicate the superstition of Drok’s specter from the minds of the Lemifs.”

“Now I understand. That was Sermei’s prophecy.”

Nathan’s sword came down towards Gerald’s head. Gerald, leaning on his axe, twisted his body to dodge and swung his axe from below. Not fast, but precisely tracing an arc, Nathan had already stepped back about two paces. Gerald took a step forward, then staggered and stepped back.

‘No good. There’s indeed something wrong with Gerald’s right leg.’

Though hidden under clothes and camouflaged with the blood of Mozes and Lemifs, the part where his muscle was torn could not be whole. Perhaps just standing and talking with Nathan was a miracle.

“Hey, Nathan. Just let me go, would you? Look at me. I’m covered in blood and can hardly walk. And look at Azwin. She’s been tied up for two days, her arms must be numb, and her legs won’t move right. Even if we ran, how far could we get? It’s more beneficial for you to let us go and then capture us again. Above all, I am a White Wolf. No matter how injured, the name alone holds power over Excelon. It’s a warning and a request. Only the White Wolf survives seeing the White Wolf’s fangs. If you want to keep your life, just let me go.”

Gerald spoke in a small voice, enduring the pain. He was smiling, but Azwin could see it was a forced grin masking a grimace.

“Funny words. Then show me your fangs. Let’s see if I can survive.”

Nathan’s sword aimed again at Gerald’s head.

Gerald blocked with his axe and deflected it, but the opponent’s sword immediately curved towards his side. Leaving the irregularly curving sword that came at his waist unchecked, Gerald attempted a counterattack. His counter was blocked by Nathan’s sword slicing back at his waist, and twice more the sword cut into Gerald’s body.

Gerald quickly retreated. Nathan adjusted his stance leisurely.

Nathan did not hurry. Gerald kept brushing off Nathan’s sword thrusts as if ignoring them, continuing his counterattacks. Had he made a rash decision, Gerald’s axe might have already decapitated Nathan or crushed his ribs. But every best effort Gerald put into his attacks was blocked, and his subsequent retaliations were tearing him apart.

Nathan was thoroughly committed to defense, gradually, slowly breaking Gerald down. Even as Gerald bled from his nose and mouth, he did not give distance but charged in. He was dragging one injured leg while supporting himself with the other, continuing to fight.

Nathan did not rashly dive into even the fake vulnerabilities that Gerald showed.

No attack worked.

Azwin, attacking Nathan in her mind if not in body and breathing in sync with Gerald, felt like she had hit an insurmountable wall. Would Master Quain possess such a wall? If Quain were an enemy standing in Nathan’s place, could he block all of Gerald’s countless attacks? Could he withstand the many tempting chances to strike a quick, decisive blow? Could the Master break down the current Gerald? But Nathan was not actively trying to break Gerald down; he was waiting for Gerald to break himself.

In the end, Gerald could no longer swing his axe. The other leg, which had been compensating for his paralyzed one, had also succumbed to paralysis. Now, even with Nathan just two steps away, leaning forward, Gerald could no longer bring down his axe.

Gerald clutched his stomach and quietly stared at his opponent. From the spot where he had been cut, a serious amount of blood was flowing.

Nathan too paused to observe this, then nodded.

“You truly are a knight to be respected.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Gerald blinked several times, either because blood had gotten into his eyes or simply because he couldn’t see well.

“I thought you were fighting a battle risking your life, but that wasn’t it.”

Nathan, looking down at the blood on his blade, spoke admiringly, then turned to Azwin and continued.

“Are you trying to leave it to your comrade?”

“Leave what?”

Azwin still hadn’t grasped the conversation between the two men.

“She’s also a White Wolf, right? The one who killed Holten and the Kagua… Are you pinning your hopes on her and showing off all of my skills?”

Azwin was shocked and her eyes widened. Gerald made a large, forced move, pressing Nathan hard. Azwin was tracking all of Nathan’s movements as he responded to the numerous unorthodox techniques. Ultimately, she felt a great barrier in his agile movements…

Gerald scratched the back of his head, searching for something to say, then just gave up. And again, he laboriously lifted his axe. If it had been Azwin, she might have picked up a lighter weapon from among those dropped by the Lemifs by now. But Gerald stubbornly used the axe, even though he lacked the strength to wield it. However, he still hadn’t swung it. He was preparing for one last attack, and Nathan was ready for it.

By now, Nathan was not someone who could be easily overcome with a tremendous attack. Even if Azwin was given a proper body and sword right now, she felt she couldn’t defeat Nathan, who complained of fatigue from traveling overnight from Lutia to here.

Nathan’s claim of fatigue was not an excuse. Just looking at the slightly disarrayed balance of his ankles, it was clear he wasn’t in top physical condition. Yet his movement was still remarkable.

‘Master, there are such monsters in the world. Can we defeat such a person with the swordsmanship you taught us? Is it only within Aranthia that the fangs of the White Wolves do not break?’

Azwin cried out inwardly as she watched the battle reaching its climax. As Gerald’s strength waned, her despair deepened. Her eye, better at observing others’ swordplay than her own, already saw Gerald’s final attack and how Nathan would respond.

“Keep watching, Azwin.”

Gerald spoke. And then he brought down his axe towards Nathan.

His last attack was much weaker than Azwin had anticipated.

‘I’m watching, Gerry. Don’t say you’re sacrificing yourself for me. Don’t give up. There’s a girl here who adores you and waits only for you. There’s a girl here who you like waiting for you. Don’t give up. No matter who the opponent is, don’t give up. I can’t accept that the fangs of the White Wolves are shown yet still lose.’

No miracle occurred. Nathan’s sword pierced through Gerald’s abdomen.

Everything went as Azwin had expected, except for one thing: Gerald had still managed to bring his axe down towards his opponent’s head as he was being stabbed.

It was a calculation that he would sacrifice his abdomen to strike at the head.

“Well done.”

However, the final blow, even with his life on the line, stopped above Nathan’s head. Nathan, already holding Gerald’s powerless axe blade with his gloved hand.

Gerald, his hands trembling, gripped the sword Nathan had plunged into his stomach.

“You made me use every technique I had. I met a guy just once in my childhood who did that, and perhaps you might be him. You were the greatest knight I have ever met. Leave the rest to your comrade. The next fight will be a duel that neither she nor I will regret.”

“It’s over…”

Gerald said in a nearly inaudible voice. It was unimaginable how much pain it took for him, who had already lost the muscles in his abdomen, to produce even that much sound. Yet Gerald was still speaking.

“…next is… ah, there’s no next.”

“What did you say?”

Nathan patiently waited for him to speak properly.

“The duel… here… is over.”

“Are you trying to leave behind regrets? Foolish fellow!”

Nathan attempted to pull the sword from Gerald’s abdomen. At that moment, Gerald’s hand grabbed Nathan’s wrist.

“If there’s such a thing as the specter of Ka-Drok, I’ll become it!”

Gerald shouted loudly, as if all his previous words were a mere ruse. Then, he suddenly pulled back the axe that was caught in Nathan’s hand. Instantly, Nathan lost his grip on the axe blade.

As the axe blade slipped from his hand, Nathan quickly moved his hand to the sword hilt embedded in Gerald’s abdomen. It was clear he believed he could pull the sword out faster than Gerald could hit his head with the axe.

If Nathan’s blade had torn through the abdominal muscles as he intended, Gerald, even pulling from the depths of his soul, would not have been able to swing his axe. However, Nathan couldn’t pull the sword out from the abdomen due to Gerald’s last deceptive move.

Gerald, believed to have paralyzed legs, took a large step, throwing Nathan off balance. He grabbed Nathan’s wrist, halting his movements. Nathan couldn’t pull the sword from Gerald’s abdomen. Instead, as Gerald approached, the blade went in deeper.

It all happened in less than a half-breath. If measured by what could be seen, it was the moment the axe rose and fell over the head; if measured by steps, it was just one step taken by Gerald.

‘Had they both made all those calculations in that instant?’

Azwin didn’t know. And now it didn’t matter anymore.

She only watched as Gerald’s axe struck and passed Nathan’s neck.

The blood bursting from Nathan’s neck soaked Gerald’s face and body. Gerald dropped the axe and staggered back, then collapsed with a thud. After squeezing out the last of his strength, he could barely keep himself seated.

Gerald blinked and looked around. Was it because of the blood and sweat? It seemed he couldn’t see well.

“Here…”

Azwin forgot that her voice was weak and tried to shout but ended up coughing violently. Blood burst from her throat. However, she paid it no mind. Instead, the warmth moistening her dry throat felt relieving.

Gerald also ignored the blood flowing from his body. He paid no heed to his broken ribs, the flesh hanging by his shoulder, or the sword deeply embedded in his abdomen. Azwin also did not notice the Lemifs murmuring around her.

They only looked at each other’s faces.

Gerald, showing a thumbs-up, said,

“Did you see that?”

Azwin, straining her throat to avoid crying, responded,

“I saw it.”

Blood dripped down her lips, but she was unaware. She only saw the blood flowing from Gerald’s body.

“Ger… Gerry, that was cool. So come…”

Azwin squeezed out a breathless voice again. After bleeding once, it felt cooler, and her voice came out clearer. She said in a choked voice,

“Come and hold me. Yes, let your lips… kiss me. Come… even if slowly, come to me.”

Gerald, showing his blood-stained teeth, grinned weakly and struggled to his feet, walking slowly towards her. However, his trembling legs barely supported his body.

‘If your healing powers reach here, please stop this bleeding now.’

Azwin prayed to Sanadiel, somewhere far beyond her reach, in a way she had never prayed before.

‘One of your most beloved children is dying here. If my insignificant life still holds any value, I would give it all to let him walk this distance to me.’

“Help Gerry, Sanadiel.”

Azwin opened her tightly closed lips and spoke. She did not cry.

‘Don’t cry, Azwin. You can’t show tears in front of the man walking towards you for you. You have to wait with a smile!’

Her ankles, scraped by the chains tied behind the post, were stripped of skin and bloodied below the shins. Yet she dragged herself forward to close the distance even a little. Gerald was walking steadily, leaving only five steps between them.

Gerald could no longer speak. He couldn’t even make the hand gestures for Dunmel sign language. He took another step forward. That was the end.

He knelt down, lifting his lead-heavy head to say something. Azwin desperately watched his lips to decipher his words.

“Don’t… cry…”

Gerald struggled to continue speaking, but no voice came out, only the shapes of words formed by his lips. Even then, his lips trembled too much, and Azwin could not understand. Eventually, with just four steps left to reach Azwin, he fell headfirst to the ground. Without giving any moment for hope to cling to, Gerald’s movement ceased.

Azwin dumbly stared at Gerald’s head lying on the ground. The blood flowing from the wounds torn by the Mozes quickly pooled on the floor. It seemed as if he might suddenly lift his face and say with a childlike smile, ‘Surprised you, didn’t I?’ But he did not move.

He made no jokes, nor did he get up.

Gerald was dead.

“Gerry…”

Azwin leaned back against a wooden post.

“Did you want to tell me not to cry? Alright… I won’t cry.”

Azwin clenched her teeth tightly and closed her eyes.

“I won’t cry. There will be no tears shed by me over this land where you have died. The next tears I shed will be those of joy when I meet you again after death.”

She firmly resolved, but soon her eyes grew hot. Trying to hold back her tears made her cheeks and jaw tremble violently. Yet, she managed to hold back the tears.

With her jaw clenched tight enough to crush her teeth, Azwin did not let herself cry.

“I’m sorry, Gerry.”

Azwin murmured an apology, not even sure what it was for exactly.

“I’m sorry…”

–TL Notes–
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