As darkness began to set, the army of the Red Rose Count prepared to move. In Normant, the soldiers were stationed in the fortress, waving their flags or holding up their spears, eager to demonstrate their strength. However, Luchi had known for some time that no other nobles’ reinforcements had arrived in Normant.
‘The march is slow. If it were me, I would have moved those troops first.’
Luchi grumbled discontentedly.
General Frederick, who was put in charge of this battle, was a distant relative of Count Johnstein. He had suddenly risen to this crucial position after General Erderma’s death in the battle on the Drupho Plains, and this was his first battle.
Luchi knew well that such abrupt promotions did not carry great significance. No matter who held the command, the real direction of the army was ultimately handled by the knights of the Thorns, so the general’s strategic abilities were not crucial to the battle’s outcome.
All they gained was mere honor. All commanders knew this fact. However, Frederick seemed quite satisfied with that.
“Hmm, this operation is indeed important.”
He spoke as if he possessed some great authority, but Luchi could see that the old man was overexerting himself. As a disposable commander, there was no particular need to pledge loyalty, but Luchi responded politely.
“Yes, General.”
Frederick’s lips curled up at the sound of his title but soon turned into a fake cough as he attempted to hold the horse’s reins elegantly.
“Hold it like this, General.”
Luchi gestured how to hold the reins to look more familiar, and Frederick was pleased.
“Where did the previous general fall in battle?”
Frederick asked.
“It was in the battle on the Drupho Plains.”
“A significant battle.”
“Yes. He resisted until the end, and thanks to that, our reinforcements were not delayed, and we were able to win.”
Luchi had watched from nearby as the previous general was hit by an arrow and fell from his horse. However, Luchi had not helped him; rather, he had deliberately moved his horse to trample over the general’s corpse. With so many bodies crushed in battle, it had been hard to find the general’s corpse.
It had no effect on the outcome of the fight. It was a ridiculous event in retrospect. The soldiers and mercenaries had fought by following the movement of the Twelve Thorns and the Rose Knights, so no one knew that the general had fallen and died. The current General Frederick could face the same fate, yet he was proud to be a commander, wanting everyone to swear loyalty to him.
‘I must avoid looking like that if I become the next commander.’
Luchi made a mental note.
“Come to think of it, I’m seeing you for the first time.”
“I am Lieutenant Luchi.”
“A new name to me. From which noble family do you hail?”
“I come from the mercenaries. I was briefly with the Rose Knights not long ago, General Frederick.”
Luchi knew that Frederick quickly took a liking to him, especially the title of General, which never failed to elicit a pleased expression.
‘He’s easy to please.’
“Shall we briefly discuss the briefing? I’d like to see how well you understand this important battle.”
Although Luchi plainly knew that Frederick asked because he didn’t remember the operation details himself, he explained kindly.
“It’s simple compared to the ongoing battle in Leang. The focus is more on minimizing damage and achieving our goal. Our objective is to secure the Normant base for His Majesty’s safe protection! Therefore, we aim to exert maximum pressure on the enemy forces beyond the outer castle and breach the castle gate swiftly without damage. Once inside, we anticipate that His Majesty will relent and accept Count’s terms when we advance to the royal castle.”
“I heard there was a fight with the White Wolves and Captain Linke around noon? They even lost?”
Frederick’s tone was infused with skepticism, echoing the doubt that pervaded the ranks. The battle’s outcome was a complex matter, and Luchi sensed that the situation was more delicate than anyone had anticipated.
“At that time, I was on my way here and didn’t see it. But I’m told it was a competition that had no impact on the operation. You need not worry about it.”
“What about the Wolf Knights in Normant?”
“We’ll ignore them. Foreign knights have no reason to intervene in the internal affairs of the Kingdom of Camort, and even if they do, what power can a mere five of them exert before this force?”
“You sound quite like the Red Rose Count.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, let me brief you on the plan.”
“Go on.”
General Frederic stretched languidly in response. Though he tried to appear relaxed, the inexperienced commander’s attempts to hide his fear were glaringly apparent.
Luchi inwardly sneered, though outwardly he spoke humbly and respectfully. Doing the bidding without causing friction—that was the secret that allowed a farmer’s son from Lurun village to rise to this position so quickly.
“We’ll feign an attack on the southern castle while our rear army attacks the eastern and western gates. Among them will be soldiers scaling the walls. According to the Count, the castle is guarded by no more than five hundred soldiers. The rest are merely unseasoned civilians. Once over the walls, all we must do is ‘protect’ His Highness quickly. There is hardly any strategy involved. I’m just worried that our mercenaries may revert to their old, bad habits once over the walls. Though ordered, I wonder if they will truly follow.”
“You worry about that more than the immediate battle? It seems our forces are indeed strong.”
“The very same army that led the victory at the Drupho Plains and faced the ambush squads of the Black Lion without faltering along the way to Leang. They were in the highest spirits. You, General, are their commander.”
“Indeed.”
“The operation will begin just before sunset. Shall we start now?”
Luchi asked respectfully. For someone who had woken up to find himself a general, this question was meaningless, merely a formality to appease his superior.
“Then let’s do it.”
“Yes, I will follow your command.”
Luchi, accepting the general’s command, yelled loudly to the soldiers.
“Forward, army!”
The troops that were to move did so orderly, and those that were to stay still stood as planned.
Luchi had once served under the Red Rose Count, and he was surprised at how well-trained an army composed of mercenaries was.
‘I must learn this well. I’ll need it when I rise higher.’
He was practically a commander now. The general standing behind him was just someone to take the blame if things went wrong.
Just then, one unit failed to move as commanded. Luchi waited, thinking the order was delayed, but then noticed a great disturbance in that unit.
“What?”
Luchi narrowed his eyes, seeking the cause of the chaos. At the center of the unit was a knight in black armor, cutting down soldiers indiscriminately. Clustered in units, the soldiers couldn’t escape or resist and were being slaughtered.
“What’s happening?”
General Frederic spoke in confusion, voicing Luchi’s own question. At first, Luchi thought it was an attack by the Black Lion’s knights. But the armor was only black, nothing else.
‘They are here!’
Luchi’s eyes widened, his mouth agape.
‘They’ were here. Those black knights, about whom countless rumors had spread. According to the whispers, those knights appeared in various places, massacring all in their path. They had failed in an attempt to kill Count Johnstein’s daughter and were said to have murdered Count Lumerier’s son. They were the spark that ignited this massive battle.
Luchi had considered them distant beings, never to be encountered in his lifetime. But now they were here, just before the battle was to begin!
It was akin to an unstoppable natural disaster that one could see coming but couldn’t prevent. No soldier, no knight could halt the path of those black knights.
“My God, call for the Count!”
General Frederick stammered, hastily attempting to turn his horse, only to fall backward instead. Luchi couldn’t discern whether the commander who had died the quickest had been the officer killed by an arrow in the battle on the Drupho plains, or whether it was General Frederick, who had just fallen from his horse, breaking his neck and sentenced to a lifetime in bed.
☆ ☆ ☆
“Archers, get to the watchtowers. Shield-bearers, why are you all gathered there?”
“Stay calm. Just do as you were trained.”
“All pikemen, gather here!”
The voices of soldiers and commanders erupted from the walls. Some soldiers were unable to find their designated spots, but most had finished preparing. They had diligently received brief training for siege combat and knew well what they had to do as the battle commenced.
“Gerald’s attack went through quite well.”
Sheyden, who had come late to the watchtower, spoke. Kassel was observing the movement of the Red Rose Count’s army with his arms folded.
“I hoped deep down that they would be paralyzed and not move at all. But things never go as planned, do they?”
“The Red Rose Count seems to enjoy daring battles. He’s not someone who would shy away from a planned fight just because morale was slightly dented.”
Sheyden spoke as if it were not surprising.
“Did I make a mistake?”
“It wasn’t a mistake. You lifted the spirits of the Normant soldiers enough.”
“And… um, Sheyden. Can you be honest with me?”
“Huh?”
Sheyden, who had been continually watching the movement of the Red Rose army, belatedly noticed the sudden seriousness in Kassel’s expression.
“Is there something troubling you?”
“Wouldn’t it have been more dramatic if someone other than Gerald had gone to capture Linke at that moment?”
“Wouldn’t it have been the same, no matter who went? Besides, since Gerald knew Linke, sending him was a good strategy.”
“What if I had gone?”
“You?”
“You know it. Captain Wolf should have been the one. The captain of the Wolf Knights should have faced off against the captain of the Rose Knights. But Captain Wolf was just standing back with his arms folded, only watching.”
Filled with anger and disappointment at himself, Kassel looked into Sheyden’s eyes, who then responded candidly.
“It would have been a pretty picture if Captain Wolf had stepped forward. But even if you had, the battle’s course wouldn’t have changed. No matter who stepped forward, we couldn’t have stopped the Red Rose army’s advance. Don’t create unnecessary worries.”
Gerald trudged over and stood between the stern-faced Sheyden and Kassel.
“What are you two discussing so seriously? Were you reviewing my glorious duel?”
When neither answered, Gerald extended his hand.
“Anyway, that’s them coming, right? They really seem to intend to capture the king.”
Kassel momentarily buried his worries and spoke.
“If they seize the king, they will face rebellion from all the nobles within Camort. With Count Lumerier’s power still unweakened, such actions will quickly turn the nobles’ strength against Count Johnstein. I still don’t understand why they’re pushing so hard.”
Under General Jean Seigey’s impeccable command, the wall defenses were ready. The general boasted that even if an army twice their size attacked, they could hold out for three days.
“What should we do now? Should we mix with the soldiers here and fight? Didn’t you say that Aranthia couldn’t meddle in Camort’s civil war?”
Gerald asked. Kassel, who had been momentarily distracted by imagining a fight between Captain Wolf and Captain Linke, replied.
“His Majesty the King did not recognize Count Johnstein as a guardian house. But he did not designate them as enemies either. Officially, Count Johnstein came to protect the king. However, Aranthia’s knights can’t arbitrarily step in to stop it.”
It was a discussion they had already had once, but Kassel explained it all over again without omission.
“Earlier, the king only refused. Essentially, he silently sent Linke away. The Count can later say he ‘misunderstood,’ with one word.”
“Is the king still hesitating?”
“Perhaps he fears the Red Rose Count. I think it’s not something to be blamed for.”
Kassel pondered the military’s position and recalled the strategies and political situation General Jean Seigey had explained to him.
Count Lumerier was not ignorant in battle. If he focused solely on repelling the powerful military force he had, it would take at least a month for Count Johnstein to conquer Leang, if it could be conquered at all.
So Count Johnstein instead made the bold move to divert some of his troops to Normant. He had not anticipated Leang’s army to retaliate. If the king were to recognize the Red Rose Count as a guardian family, the other nobles would turn their backs on Count Lumerier, and everything would proceed according to the count’s wishes.
An insurmountable strength. General Seigey had prepared everything under the assumption that the two counts were of similar power. Kassel had also assumed this, focusing on balancing the situation. However, the power of the Rose’s army exceeded everyone’s expectations.
‘Couldn’t I have done more in the meantime? What if I had taken Count Lumerier into the castle after the battle on the Drupho Plains? What if I had immediately sent a letter to Count Johnstein for reconciliation after the battle? What if I had gone out as Captain Wolf and defeated Captain Linke?’
Kassel’s thoughts wandered, as he kept his mouth tightly shut.
He looked up at Sheyden, who stood silently beside him, guarding him. Holding his spear, standing proudly, he looked stunning, as though he embodied every word symbolizing the White Wolves.
‘No one would think that two White Wolves are standing here.’
Kassel felt so shabby that he wanted to leave the tower immediately.
“It would be great if this were our battle. Not a power struggle among the nobles, but a fierce fight for the lives of the people in this city. Then we could go out without worrying about this or that, and just fight as it comes,” Gerald said.
“Are you going to block all the enemies coming in a straight line?”
Sheyden joked.
“I’m going to open the gates. And I’ll be standing at the door. No one will be able to get in!”
Gerald boasted.
“Why would you do such a reckless thing?”
“That’s what heroes do.”
“What use is a hero if he’s dead?”
“Who’s going to die?”
“You’ll die if you do that.”
“I won’t die, so it’s okay.”
“You’ll die.”
“I won’t die!”
“Die.”
They carried on their outrageous conversation nonchalantly. It was not a juvenile exchange between overly confident boys; they were speaking from a place of genuine skill.
A pang struck Kassel’s heart as he recalled moments of screaming, lying, and boasting in desperate attempts to survive.
‘I’m all lies and pretense, with nothing real. I vaguely felt it watching Azwin and Jarlan’s match, but after seeing Gerald and Linke’s fight, I know for sure. I can never truly become a White Wolf!’
The more he knew them, the more he realized how insignificant his foundation was, and it was time to give up.
‘I am a farmer. My place is not in Aranthia with the Wolf Knights, but in the village of Lurun with my father.’
Once he made that decision, he felt liberated. Smiling for no reason, he was questioned by Gerald, who turned to look at him.
“Why are you standing back there smiling emptily like an old man who’s realized the truth of life?”
“It’s nothing, nothing at all.”
In the distance, the Red Rose’s army began to move. Kassel clung to the battlements. The anticipation of what was about to begin had not yet subsided.
A knight in dark armor attacked the rear unit of the Rose’s army.
“Over there at the end!”
Kassel said, squinting.
“It’s them!”
Sheyden quickly noticed as well and muttered.
“Those must be the same guys who attacked our carriage, right?”
Gerald spotted them soon after.
“It really is them. But it seems not the one whose arm I cut off? Looks like he has both hands intact.”
“It’s not just one.”
Sheyden pointed at the other Black Knights who had ambushed the rear guard.
“Three, four… five. Were there that many of them?”
The sudden appearance of the unknown Black Knights had thrown the Red Rose Knights into great confusion, and the soldiers of Normant were also stunned and didn’t know what to do. Over a thousand troops were thrown into disarray by just five knights.
“Huh, they’re attacking that side? It’s like they’re helping us.”
Gerald said with a trembling tone. Silently observing, Sheyden looked not outside but inside the city. The streets were empty after the citizens of Normant had evacuated.
Sheyden quickly scanned the street, looking for something.
“What’s the matter?”
Kassel asked.
“Those guys.”
Sheyden said in a rare tense voice.
“They’re not just outside.”
Simultaneously, a strange and irritating noise echoed through the streets of Normant. The soldiers, who had been looking only outside the castle, were startled and turned their attention inward.
“They’re there.”
Sheyden pointed, and the place he indicated was the highest cathedral spire in Normant, second only to the palace. Somehow, a Black Knight mounted on a black horse was there. The enormous horse stood awkwardly on the sloping roof as if its hooves were stuck to the floor, and the knight astride it was standing upright as if on flat ground.
The horse roared like a wild beast, and the knight blew a horn again, from which black smoke emerged. An eerie sound resonated.
The Black Knights attacking the Red Rose’s army turned their heads at the sound, seemingly in response, and began to charge towards Normant.
“All hands, prepare for battle! Prepare for battle!”
Sheyden shouted without delay to the castle’s troops. Jarlan, who was standing on the castle tower, discovered the Black Knights’ approach and hesitated about what to do before promptly following Sheyden’s order.
“All troops, prepare for battle!”
Jarlan shouted and then ran to Sheyden for confirmation.
“Is the attack target those guys?”
“The knights in black armor. Do not let them approach the walls!”
Sheyden shouted desperately and raised his spear.
“Kassel, go to the castle. Azwin will be there. Gerald, hold them off here.”
Gerald quickly asked Sheyden,
“What about you?”
“The one blowing the horn seems to be their leader. He blew it last time, and they retreated. I’ll handle him.”
“Alright. But how did that horn-blowing guy get in here without a sound? There are so many soldiers waiting at the walls.”
Gerald asked, holding his axe.
“He jumped over it by being on the roof, obviously… Wait, if he can jump that high?”
Sheyden eyed the height and let out an exclamation.
“Closing the gates will be useless. That horse will jump over the walls as high as these.”
“That’s impossible!”
Kassel said, but Sheyden ignored him.
“Hurry, Kassel. Go to Azwin! They won’t be affected by arrows or swords. If you stay here, there will be no one to protect you.”
“How can I alone…”
Kassel nearly blurted out, ‘I’m the captain of the White Wolves, how can I run away?’ A lie repeated had led him even to lie to Sheyden. He closed his mouth, and Sheyden didn’t wait for his answer. He was already descending the stairs to mount his waiting horse, dashing away.
“I better prepare too.”
Gerald went down the stairs, leaving Kassel alone. He felt naked, afraid, and ashamed, and insignificant. He knew it, but he couldn’t help thinking that way.
When the battle began, there was nothing to do.
He just had to run away.
To keep the name Captain Wolf, he had to hide and do nothing.
Unable to bear the shame welling up in his throat, Kassel closed his eyes tightly.
‘Be calm. Now’s not the time to be ashamed. I need to go to where Azwin is, as Sheyden said.’
Kassel descended the stairs and leaped onto his prepared horse. Jarlan, who had been shouting commands for battle, turned and cried out to him.
“Where are you going, Captain Wolf?”
Kassel turned his horse’s head and spoke,
“I’ll return to the castle.”
“You won’t… help here?”
Jarlan’s incomprehensible gaze was piercing. Kassel replied with a smile,
“I prefer to be by His Majesty’s side.”
“Ah.”
Jarlan nodded.
Kassel wheeled his horse and sped down the main road of Normant.
‘I lied again. Just now, I talked as if I was going to protect His Majesty, didn’t I?’
Surviving by lying to bandits back then was somehow more innocent in intention. He deceived Falcon, soiled the knighthood, duped Count Godimer, dishonored his loyalty, and pushed Normant into a battlefield by tricking the king.
Kassel clenched his mouth tightly, holding back a sob that reached his throat.
He simply fled.
There was nothing else he could do.
☆ ☆ ☆
At Jarlan’s command, dozens of arrows soared through the air and plunged into the Black Knights. Two of them blocked the arrows with their dark shields, but the other knights, holding spears and axes, received the arrows with their bodies. Some arrows bounced off, but a few certainly penetrated their helmets and chest armor. However, the Black Knights did not flinch and continued to charge.
Jarlan quickly understood why an army of nearly two thousand, fully prepared to attack, was pushed back by only five knights. If the arrows did not affect them, no other weapon would.
He quickly abandoned the hope of defeating them and was forced to make another decision.
“Defend the gate. Don’t let them in.”
The Black Knights’ horses were as swift as if they could run after and catch flying arrows. In a flash, they covered the distance, giving the archers no time to ready a second shot. And they did not slow down even when they were almost at the castle.
“Could it be?”
A black horse leaped as high as a bird taking off, quickly clearing the wall and landing on the other side. One barely touched the rampart with its front hooves, but its speed allowed it to bump its belly and forcibly pull up its hind legs. Another, lacking a bit in its leap, crashed against the wall and fell, but the Black Knight on it used the bouncing force to jump over the wall onto the rampart.
The soldiers thrust their spears at the Black Knight on the rampart, but their attacks either bounced off the armor or were caught in the Black Knight’s hand, inflicting no damage. These were the knights who had climbed the walls with arrows still stuck in them. Even if a spear pierced the armor, it couldn’t kill them.
With a single swing of his axe, the Black Knight felled several soldiers at once. Bodies fell below the wall.
The archers calmly readied their second arrows and released. The knight on the rampart shielded his face with one hand and was hit by the arrows. Most bounced off, and those that did pierce the armor did not hinder the Black Knight’s movement at all. He cut down the soldiers with arrows stuck all over his body.
The knight who had landed on the other side of the wall exhibited great strength as he attacked the soldiers. The shield soldiers waiting below the wall, all crowded together, suffered tremendous damage. Under the Black Knight’s spears and axes, soldiers’ red blood and flesh splattered like ragged paper on the floor. Heads rolled here and there.
The soldiers resisted at first. But fighting against one in armor that repelled even spears was impossible. Even the horses participated in the battle, stomping soldiers with their front hooves.
Though few in number, quantity was not the issue. A reckless and hopeless battle evolved into a slaughter. Being trained soldiers, they managed to stab their spears in after the sacrifice of a dozen or so men. But the Black Knight pulled the spear from his armor and killed the soldier who had stabbed him with it. That sight completely shattered the last glimmer of hope in the soldiers, and they lost all reason.
The soldiers began to throw their weapons and flee, as a nightmare-like pitch-black darkness filled the surroundings. In sheer terror, some soldiers, seeing the Black Knight charge at them, leaped off the wall without even checking the ground below.
Jarlan couldn’t bring himself to command the fleeing soldiers to stand and fight. He wanted to throw down his sword and run himself.
These were soldiers who had all prepared to die on the wall. For the king, for their country, they had vowed to give their lives. They were courageous soldiers who had stood and fought even as an army of 10,000 from the Red Rose Count advanced upon them. But before the mere five Black Knights, they forgot everything. Honor, courage—all vanished.
Only fear remained. It felt as if darkness filled their hearts, shadows creeping into their minds, and sheer, black despair was all that surfaced. Jarlan’s mouth hung open, unable to even issue the command to retreat. He felt there was nothing he could do but wait for the death that was flying toward him.
“Move aside!”
A clear cry broke through the fog that had filled everyone’s minds. Gerald, who had been standing next to Jarlan, suddenly rushed to the battlement, snatched a spear from a spearman’s hand, and hurled it. The spear whistled through the wind, a sharp sound cutting the air as it flew toward the Black Knight.
The Black Knight spotted the spear, swift as an arrow, and raised his shield. The spear that Gerald had thrown pierced the Black Knight’s shield, penetrating the helmet he was wearing too. The heavily armored figure seemed to lift off the ground for a moment before sliding several steps back.
The spear, having skewered both shield and helmet, protruded from the back of the Black Knight’s head. All the soldiers cheered at the defeat of a Black Knight, but Gerald himself did not let down his guard.
“Is it not dead from that?”
Gerald, holding his axe, walked purposefully across the blood-stained battlement.
The Black Knight slowly pulled the impaling spear out, metal tearing as the spear came free from the helmet. Black smoke gushed out of the hole in the back of his head, but he did not die. The Black Knight puffed out his chest and rose to his feet again.
Jarlan was horrified at seeing the Black Knight survive even after being pierced through the head, but Gerald prevented him from succumbing to fear, shouting aggressively.
“Looking for the one who cut off your friend’s arm? It’s me. I am the one who will take revenge on you bastards!”
Jarlan suddenly exhaled as if he had been holding his breath from the moment the Black Knight appeared. The other soldiers were the same. As if waking from a late dream, they either straightened their ranks or retreated to reorganize their weapons.
Gerald stood between the Black Knights and the ordinary soldiers, like a dam holding back the flood of terror.
“It’s dangerous. Retreat first and…”
Jarlan wanted to issue a retreat order to Gerald first, then command the soldiers to regroup. But Gerald did not hesitate and charged at the Black Knight. The Black Knight swung his halberd, and Gerald swung his axe.
Crash!
Something exploded. A broken halberd handle flew through the air, followed by the Black Knight’s helmet, falling beneath the wall.
The headless Black Knight staggered back, wildly swinging the broken halberd in the air. Black smoke poured out of the severed neck, spreading on the ground as if it had form, like smoke from a burst chimney.
Gerald folded his swung axe and merely watched the headless Black Knight stagger. Soon, the Black Knight stopped even its staggering movement and fell powerless.
Gerald kicked the fallen Black Knight. Unfazed and unafraid, he even picked up the headless breastplate to examine it.
“Empty. Only the armor was alive.”
Jarlan was horrified by those words alone. Ghost? Magic? Wicked curse? All manner of terrifying thoughts surfaced. But Gerald accepted the situation simply, as if he had forgotten how to be afraid, his simplicity overpowering his fear.
“Anyway, if you cut off the head, they die, right? That’ll do.”
Gerald turned to Jarlan, sending a signal with a confident smile.
“Everyone, hide. Leave this to me.”
With those words, Gerald sprinted back towards the fortress. He continued to run, looking down until he suddenly leaped from a point, as if he had forgotten it was more than a 5-meter drop.
Gerald descended rapidly towards a black knight who was cutting down soldiers from his horse.
The black knight, somehow sensing Gerald’s approach from behind, swiftly turned his body and immediately raised the tip of his spear. If nothing changed, Gerald would have impaled himself on it as he charged. But Gerald’s axe was faster.
The spear thrust by the knight had its tip cut off by the axe and only touched Gerald’s chest after being severed. Although it was a broken spearhead, the sharp part scraped Gerald’s shoulder, tearing his flesh as it was not protected by armor.
Upon landing, Gerald swung his axe back around, slicing the black knight’s waist, and swung again, striking the horse’s head. The headless horse reared wildly before crashing to the ground, and the black knight, half his body gone, was crushed by the impact and the horse’s weight.
The armor shattered, and black smoke scattered in all directions. Soldiers withdrew their feet, fearing that the smoke might cause something terrible. The black armor writhed in its shattered state but soon stopped.
“Where’s the next one?”
Gerald yelled at the top of his voice.
“Th-the castle.”
Jarlan, who had been dumbfoundedly watching the situation, pointed towards the castle and cried out.
“The others went towards the castle.”
“Understood. Guard this place well. The Count’s army hasn’t completely retreated.”
Without waiting for permission, Gerald mounted Jarlan’s horse and rushed towards the castle. It was as if a storm had swept through. The watching soldiers were all left speechless. Jarlan suddenly came to his senses and gave the orders.
“Treat the wounded and recover the dead. The enemy is still outside. Maintain strict vigilance!”
Jarlan limped to the watchtower and looked down at his injured foot. A wound inflicted by the White Wolves. During the fight, he thought it humiliating; after the treatment, as he rose from his bed, he considered it a badge of honor. But now, after witnessing Gerald’s tremendous display, he felt fortunate.
‘Back then, Azwin just punished me. It wasn’t a fight.’
Jarlan confirmed the position of the Red Rose army from afar. They, too, were surprised by the attack of the black knights and hadn’t moved an inch from their retreat. Even if he were the commander of that army, he would choose to watch now.
‘Thank goodness. If the Red Rose Count’s army had attacked now, we’d have helplessly given up the gate.’
As Jarlan was focusing on the distance, unexpectedly, a huge horse’s face appeared right in front of him. Without even screaming, he staggered back and fell, his legs giving way.
Another black knight was climbing up to the watchtower where Jarlan stood. The horse that the black knight was riding had bat-like wings and was flapping them. Unlike the other black knights who had stormed the wall, this one had flown up.
All sound was blocked from Jarlan’s ears, and only the noise of the horse’s wings reached him.
“Oh, my God. Ohh…”
Not just sound, but even light seemed to be consumed by darkness around Jarlan. Earlier, it was just a sensation, but now, it was definitively darkening.
‘This one is different from the other black knights. It’s not just the shape of the helmet or armor.’
When he saw the black knights slaughtering soldiers, he had feared death itself. But now, looking at the knight before him, he feared being alive. Enduring this moment was so terrifying that living itself became a fear.
When the black knight extended his palm, a black light appeared. Jarlan only saw the darkness enveloping him. His lower body was severed, but there was no pain.
Jarlan closed his eyes once, and never opened them again.
–TL Notes–
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