White Wolves – Chapter 65

It was the second evening since the White Wolves had left Blue Gate.

Kassel, Loyal, Dunmel, Azwin, Sheyden, and Gerald—these six members of the White Wolves had gone on without much trouble as usual, until they sought refuge from the pouring rain in a nearby barn. After a heated discussion about who should go find a room in the village, Kassel had departed.

Not long after Kassel had left, the already heavy rain began to pour down so fiercely it seemed unbearable. The day grew darker, and Kassel had not returned.

Azwin seemed worried, pacing back and forth inside the barn restlessly.

“The rain is coming down hard.”

Azwin remarked, looking out the window.

“I’m worried about Kassel.”

Gerald said, stripping off his damp clothes hit by the drops of rain leaking through the barn’s roof.

“I should have gone.”

Azwin repeated for the thirtieth time.

The horses, too, could not hide their restlessness, moving about. Droplets of water dripped from the ceiling, and the wooden walls reinforced with planks creaked ominously. The holes in the ceiling poured water almost like pipes connected to an aqueduct. The door at the entrance shook violently with the wind, as if the hinges were about to break. Gerald and Dunmel were betting whether the door would collapse by morning or not.

“Just sit down.”

Sheyden, lying on a mound of hay, said. Though it was hay, it was damp and soggy from the leaking rainwater.

Azwin kept fidgeting even after she dragged a wooden crate over to sit on. Sheyden spoke to calm her down.

“He’s not a child who’s gone out; he knows how to handle himself. What’s there to worry so much about?”

“Shouldn’t I be worried? Ah, this is why I wanted to go.”

Azwin repeated for the thirty-first time.

Dunmel, who had bet on the door breaking, kept glancing outside while heating up some milk in a bowl.

Loyal, like Azwin, looked out the window and murmured in a barely audible voice.

“I’m more worried about us. This barn, at this rate, feels like it’s going to float away.”

Gerald stood up suddenly and looked out the window. The rain was pouring down as if buckets of water were being emptied, obscuring the view. It was surprising that the old wooden window had held up so far.

Gerald muttered.

“Huh? Looks like I’m going to lose the bet.”

“Is it raining that hard?”

Sheyden asked as well.

“It seems the gods are bored enough to try turning the land into an ocean.”

Gerald tapped on the window and replied.

Even Loyal, who usually didn’t worry about the future, seemed a bit concerned as he asked.

“What do you think Kassel is doing now?”

“He’s probably sleeping by himself in the room he secured for us to rest,”

Gerald imagined the situation.

“There’s no need for him to hurry in this rain like he did with the reinforcements in Camort. Given his personality, he’s probably shaking with guilt alone in some comfortable place right now. Honestly, the captain should worry about himself more than us. I always say this! Let’s not worry about Kassel and just look after ourselves. I don’t want to give Nadium the news that the White Wolves perished, swept away by the rain.”

“No, Gerald, you’re the only one among us who can’t swim. It won’t be all of us perishing.”

Azwin replied nonchalantly.

“Then I’ll just have to drag you down with me!”

Gerald exclaimed, sitting next to Azwin and throwing an arm around her. Azwin just let herself be pulled along. Meanwhile, Dunmel handed out mugs of warm milk and signed with his hands.

‘The rain that falls endlessly is not forever. It will stop by midnight.’

Azwin, having been dragged there anyway, simply leaned back against Gerald’s chest and accepted the milk. Gerald, no longer finding amusement in teasing, let go of her neck. Her head, which had slipped, now rested comfortably on his thigh.

Gerald spoke as he received the milk from Dunmel.

“Should I go get him then?”

“Do you even know where he’s gone?”

Loyal drank the milk greedily and asked as if challenging.

“He’s probably in a nearby village.”

“It won’t be too late if we go after dawn.”

“Is that so?”

They all enjoyed a moment of silence, sipping the warm milk. Drowsiness was setting in. Azwin had already dozed off on Gerald’s legs. The light from the lamp was flickering, its oil nearly depleted.

“Let’s just sleep. We’ll worry about the rest tomorrow.”

Sheyden leaned back against the hay where he had laid down earlier. Loyal lay down next to him, and Dunmel sat on a crate, leaning against a barn post. Everyone found their own comfortable spot, but Gerald couldn’t do the same.

“I can never shake the thought that I’m always just a pillow substitute for this one.”

Gerald touched Azwin’s head and spoke.

“Stop that. Who else has legs wide enough to let the kid sleep so comfortably?”

Sheyden made a remark that was indistinguishable between jest and earnest. Gerald just smacked his lips. Nevertheless, he kept stroking Azwin’s hair until she fell asleep.

Sheyden looked at them with a pleased gaze before drifting off to sleep. But sleep didn’t come easily. He spent the night looking at the ceiling with eyes wide open.

“Hey, Sheyden.”

After a long time, when he thought everyone else was asleep, Gerald suddenly spoke up. He had been complaining about being uncomfortable, yet he was still sitting up with Azwin lying on his thigh. The awkward position leaning against the barn post somehow looked like the most comfortable spot in the world in the pitch dark. His expression was not visible, but his voice was softer and more mature than what it was during the day.

“You’ve heard about me from the master, haven’t you? That day you heard ‘that thing’ from the master.”

“When? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sheyden played dumb.

“I know very well why you don’t talk about your past to Kassel.”

Gerald’s voice still had a playful tone, but it was sharp.

“You’re aware that if you were to tell your story honestly, it would sound too much like bragging, right?”

Sheyden said nothing.

The comrades often said Sheyden was the best at analyzing and understanding his peers among the Wolf Knights. But Sheyden knew that Gerald was better at analyzing and was more empathetic. It was just that Sheyden was better at expressing it.

Gerald was seeing right through Sheyden even now.

“You pick up anything you touch immediately. Spear, sword, axe. The other Wolf kids are impressive, but I’ve never seen someone like you. Someone who learns just by watching. Plus, you’ve got the physique to pull off what you’ve learned. And your absorption of what you read? What is that about?”

As always, Gerald kept poking at Sheyden’s heart, relentlessly.

“You say it often, don’t you? It just happened, the Wolf Knights were nothing special… Where else would you find such arrogance? Since the second test, I’ve been more worried about you than Loyal.”

“When have I ever said the Wolf Knights were nothing special…”

‘Though I didn’t mean it that way, it could have sounded like that.’

Sheyden was about to make an excuse but then asked.

“What are you trying to say, Gerald?”

“What am I?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why am I not someone’s disciple?”

Sheyden winced. He could not tell the lie, ‘Aren’t you a disciple of the master? All the White Wolves are his handpicked disciples.’

‘As I thought, this guy is sharp. He just pretends to be oblivious to others.’

Sheyden asked.

“When did you find out?”

“You said it before. That day.”

At Gerald’s reply, he smirked and said.

“Why not? Are you really asking because you don’t know?”

“I’ve thought about it for a long time, but I really don’t know.”

Gerald’s expression couldn’t be seen in the darkness, but the sorrow lurking beyond his pleasant voice was all the more apparent.

“Then answer me this first. Why did you become a member of the Wolf Knights?”

Sheyden asked.

“The day I was crossing over to Irophis to take the Wolf Knights’ test, a woman, no, a grandmother in my dream spoke to me.”

An unexpected tale flowed from Gerald’s lips.

“I don’t remember well. She told me to come… to come to her. While I was sleeping, oblivious to the assassins that might kill me, she woke me up, telling me it wasn’t time for me to die here yet. The name was Ka… something. Anyway, after having that dream, I came to Aranthia and became a Wolf Knight. Don’t laugh. I would have become one, dream or not.”

“I’m not laughing. So?”

“I thought becoming a Wolf would endow me with some grand mission or duty, but it wasn’t the case. Do you know how that made me feel?”

Gerald’s voice that followed was laden with heaviness.

“I may not have been destined to be a White Wolf.”

“That’s not like you, Gerald. You have the strongest bite of a White Wolf among us all. That’s why you don’t have a master. There’s nothing left for you to learn.”

“Are you saying this is as far as my skill goes? That’s a sad reality.”

The sound of the rain was tapering off. Just as Dunmel had predicted, the rain was stopping. Their voices dwindled to match, and only their softly echoing voices filled the barn. The lantern, running out of oil, dimmed its light as well.

“Dunmel once said something, remember? That he could kill the Master now, if only by assassination. But you said you couldn’t do that. Azwin said with you alone, you could beat the three of us. You were the first to take down Loyal amongst us. There’s no point in discussing the superiority of skills amongst us, but in the strength of heart, no one can match you. The best is Loyal. But the strongest is you, Gerald.”

Sheyden continued with a faint smile.

“Do you know why I stood alone guarding that bridge in Normant? Behind me stood Gerald… that was my thought.”

“Stop it. I’m embarrassed enough to die.”

Gerald continued with a face that seemed somewhat shy.

“Just tell me one thing, Sheyden. I am ‘in the right place’ now, aren’t I? That’s what it is, right?”

Sheyden pointed to Azwin, who was lying on Gerald’s thigh, and replied.

“At least it seems so right now, doesn’t it?”

Gerald smiled.

“Right. For now, it is. This kid, I really…”

Gerald only got that far before suddenly getting up. Azwin, who had been resting on his leg, hit her head on the floor, startling awake.

Sheyden also stood up almost simultaneously, grabbing the spear leaning against a post. Loyal reflexively stood up and, half-dazed, reached for the sword strapped to his waist. Dunmel had already vanished from his sleeping spot, hiding somewhere in the darkness of the barn.

The lantern had completely gone out. A few drops of rain and a sliver of moonlight quietly fell through the gaps in the open ceiling.

Sheyden’s spear pointed toward the barn entrance, where the cold wind blew in. A silhouette outlined by the faint moonlight piercing the cloud-covered sky took a step into the barn.

Gerald said, “Who’s there?”

“Is it the White Wolves?”

A deep, low male voice responded.

“Shouldn’t you reveal your own identity first, mister?”

Azwin, scratching the back of her head where it had hit the ground and was stinging, retorted.

“Rude bunch, just as I’ve heard.”

The man with the deep voice said as he walked further into the barn. At that moment, the lanterns hanging on the barn pillars blazed to life. It wasn’t just the wicks that were lit; the flames grew as if the thick wooden pillars themselves were set on fire.

The inside of the barn became bright.

Weapons were already in everyone’s hands, though that hadn’t been the case at first. The man standing in front of the barn door wore a hint of a smile and stood before Sheyden.

Azwin muttered, hand on the hilt of her sword at her waist.

“Never met a polite person who fusses about manners upon a first meeting.”

The man was wearing a white robe, which appeared blue under the torchlight. The hem of his robe was dirty with mud, but considering the rain that evening, he was remarkably clean. He held a staff with a curved end, and a fist-sized red gem hung on his chest, sparkling in different colors depending on the angle.

“A sorcerer?”

Sheyden asked.

“And you would be Sheyden Wolf, I presume.”

“That’s correct. But I do not know you, sir?”

“I am the sorcerer Dethain from Lutia.”

“Lutia?”

Everyone was surprised at that. Sheyden, wanting to beat his friends to it and avoid any rash actions, spoke with due courtesy.

“What brings a sorcerer of Lutia here in the middle of the night?”

“I went to the Gray Gate and the gatekeeper told me you had just left. So I used all my magic to find this place.”

“In this rain?”

“It wasn’t easy. This downpour is no small matter.”

“Is it that urgent? We would have come to see you in Nadium if we had known.”

“I came after hearing in Nadium that you were headed this way. It’s that urgent. In fact, I am already two days late. We must leave for Lutia right now. Pack your belongings.”

Dethain was already half-turned as he spoke.

“Now?”

Sheyden was surprised to begin, and Gerald interjected.

“By what right? As if it’s all been decided…”

“It has been decided. Master Quain Gant has given his permission, and the royal family of Aranthia did not refuse Lutia’s request.”

“But the parties involved have not given their permission.”

Gerald crossed his arms as he spoke.

Wrinkles deepened around Dethain’s eyes. He looked back and forth between Gerald and Sheyden for a moment. Azwin, still half-asleep next to Gerald, crossed her arms in the same manner, with sleepy eyes.

‘If this can’t be helped, a fight is bound to break out.’

Sheyden calmly explained.

“Master Dethain. It seems there’s a misunderstanding about the hierarchical structure of the Wolf Knights in Lutia. The Wolf Knights are certainly affiliated with Master Quain and the royal house. However, strictly speaking, all that authority is concentrated in the hands of our queen. That is to say, the White Wolves follow Master Quain’s orders out of respect and absolute obedience only to Queen Sanadiel’s commands. In that context, may I ask if there has been a direct order from either for the White Wolves to obey your command?”

“I did not have time to see Queen Sanadiel, but Master Quain acknowledged it.”

“Master probably said, ‘You may take my pupils with you.'”

“Is that not the same thing?”

Dethain frowned, and whether it was his imagination or not, the lanterns around them seemed to burn brighter.

“It’s different. There were no orders after all, were there, Master Dethain? Then please explain to us why we need to go to Lutia. You can’t just scoop up the White Wolves and take them with you.”

Sheyden stood his ground quietly, yet firmly. Dethain readjusted his staff and shook his head.

“Compared to the previous White Wolves, you young ones truly lack the manners for Lutia.”

Azwin interjected.

“Older folks always say the past was better, don’t they? But in my opinion, I don’t think the old White Wolves were particularly better mannered or nicer than us.”

When Dethain glared at her, Azwin deliberately yawned widely, as if to show off.

“If you keep this up, I could take you by force.”

Dethain’s deep voice overlapped in everyone’s ears, a distinctly unpleasant sound. Before the atmosphere could turn any more sour, Sheyden quickly spoke up.

“Master Dethain. I am simply asking for a clear explanation of the situation. If you do so, we will respect the alliance between Aranthia and Lutia and follow its intentions. It’s only because you tried to drag us along as if issuing orders that everyone is resisting.”

It wasn’t only Gerald or Azwin showing defiance. Loyal looked ready to draw his sword at any moment. Azwin and Gerald, who always wore their emotions on their sleeves, were actually preferable. More frightening was the fact that Dunmel was nowhere to be seen in the barn.

‘If only Kassel were here.’

There was truly only one person who could calm down these ‘rascals’. Sheyden, too, was running out of patience to manage the current situation.

“I will explain as we go. Follow me now. There’s no time to waste. Now that I’ve found you, I do not wish to spend even one more minute.”

Dethain was not a mage known for patience. Mages are said to be temperamental, and Dethain was particularly incompatible with the White Wolves.

“Can’t you explain even in a single sentence, sir? This ignoramus doesn’t quite understand why she should follow you, you see?”

Azwin asked with a mocking tone.

‘Ugh, how am I supposed to fix this if you talk like that?’

Sheyden felt like he wanted to cover his eyes.

“Lutia is in danger!”

Dethain shouted. Once again, his voice echoed over. To an ordinary person, it would be a power that compelled immediate attention and listening, but to the White Wolves, it was nothing more than a provocation.

Dethain’s tone softened slightly.

“Can’t we just end it at that for now? A problem has arisen that we mages alone cannot solve. Hence, we need a few knights who are not only excellent in swordsmanship but also skilled in strategy and tactics.”

Sheyden was not convinced by such an explanation either. However, to avoid further conflict that could escalate into a serious problem, he stepped forward.

“Alright. If the master has given his permission, we have no great objections. Let’s proceed and hear the detailed story as we go, as Master Dethain has said.”

Azwin spread her arms wide.

“Wait! Does this mean we can’t even stop by Nadium? I wanted to see the queen.”

Dethain shook his head.

“We must go immediately.”

Azwin was about to retort, but Sheyden waved his hand and mouthed, ‘Let’s drop it.’

Gerald, too, looked displeased but put down his axe and said.

“Fine, fine. As soon as Kassel returns, we’ll set off.”

Dethain cocked his head.

“Kassel? Is there someone else?”

“Ah, Nadium must not have heard the news yet. There is one captain in the Wolf Knights. He is likely to become the sixth White Wolf, and even if not, he is our captain nonetheless. If we go, we must go together.”

At Gerald’s words, Dethain was thrown into confusion.

“I have never heard such a thing. Who is this person?”

“A lad we brought from Camort.”

“Then he must be a knight as formidable as the White Wolves.”

Gerald laughed heartily, as if he had expected that response.

“He may not be, but he is the leader who commands us. When he arrives, let’s go together.”

Dethain groaned, as if pushing his patience to the limit.

“When will he come?”

“Perhaps tomorrow morning? If not, we will have to go look for him.”

“That won’t do. We must go now. As I’ve been saying, we’ve already been delayed too much.”

Gerald narrowed his eyes.

“No. We go nowhere without the captain. I cannot yield on that.”

“Five of you are sufficient. Tell Captain Wolf to go to Nadium alone. The rest will follow me. Move!”

“What is this? Are you ordering us to abandon the captain now?”

Azwin spoke with dissatisfaction.

“What will you do if we refuse?”

Gerald took a step forward as well.

Sheyden rebuked sternly.

“Gerald, let it be.”

But the tension between Dethain and Gerald had already escalated to a point of no intervention.

Azwin reluctantly stepped back.

“You are now angering a sorcerer of Lutia.”

Dethain said, and Gerald retorted immediately.

“You are the one provoking us first.”

“Do you wish to be taken by force?”

“By force? Try it.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Dethain swung his staff. Before anyone could intervene, Gerald was sent flying backwards. Invisible forces scattered the hay on the ground to the walls of the barn, and the puddles splashed to the sides.

Gerald crashed against the old barn wall, which collapsed outward. He lay amidst the debris.

Dethain slowly lowered his staff, seeming to regret his action for a moment. But Azwin was already baring her teeth in anger.

Loyal spoke up with a boiling voice.

“Try it one more time, Master Dethain. Before you can swing that staff again, your head will fly.”

Dethain shook his head.

“I may have gotten a bit carried away. But I wish you to understand just how desperate our situation is. So my… ugh!”

Dethain couldn’t finish his sentence. Gerald, who had leapt from the pile of broken stones, covered the distance in two steps and swung an axe at Dethain’s head.

Dethain quickly raised his staff to block the axe. A white light spread through the barn like ripples on water, scattering everywhere.

The axe and staff clashed in a brief struggle. The axe was stopped by something invisible just in front of the staff. Dethain’s face turned pale as he strenuously blocked the axe. He was being pushed back bit by bit, and Gerald was advancing the same distance. Eventually, the weaker Dethain’s arms gave in, bringing the axe blade closer to his face.

“Stop, stop! Gerald. If I use magic, everyone in this barn will be caught up in it.”

Dethain said with a strained voice.

Gerald dismissed him with a scoff.

“How do they regard us in Lutia, Master Dethain? Is it known there that one sorcerer can take on five White Wolves? Then why on earth did you come to seek our help?”

Gerald flashed a smirk. Dethain, feeling his life threatened, spewed out a magic incantation. The red jewel on the sorcerer’s necklace began to brighten abruptly.

Just then, Sheyden’s spear cut through the air between Gerald and Dethain.

“Enough, Gerald. Put it down.”

Sheyden’s gaze turned toward Dethain.

“Master Dethain, please retract your magic as well. You might die.”

Dethain clamped his mouth shut, startled by the cool touch at his nape. Dunmel, unnoticed by all, had pressed a blade against Dethain’s neck from behind.

Gerald glared at Dethain’s face for a moment before slowly pulling back his axe. Dethain also stepped back and withdrew his staff.

Dunmel too removed the blade from the neck and stepped away, but did not put the knife away.

Sweat was running down Dethain’s face. The light from the red jewel faded, concealing his expression, but Sheyden could see that he was quite shaken.

Sheyden lowered his spear and nodded slightly.

“My apologies, Master Dethain. We are such men. The only person we absolutely obey is Queen Sanadiel, so do not try to assert the authority of Lutia over us.”

Dethain pulled his robe tighter with a cough.

“Fine, I apologize as well. I should have explained the situation, no matter how urgent.”

Sheyden quickly came up with an idea to settle the situation.

“Let’s do this. Take these four with you. I do not know what is happening in Lutia, but if it is urgent, four or five makes no difference. And I will stay here waiting for the captain, then head back to Nadium. If more help is needed later, we can go together, including the captain. The distance between Nadium and Lutia is not so great for sorcerers, is it?”

“Well, that’s true but…”

For a magician to take advice from a commoner was a humiliation in itself. Yet Sheyden did not back down and spoke with a stronger tone.

“The situation in Lutia might be urgent, but we have no intention of leaving our captain behind. What will you do?”

Dethain sighed after looking at each face of the White Wolves.

“Not a bad idea.”

Sheyden shrugged his shoulders.

“Since you are pressed for time, we will listen to the explanation on the way. Let’s depart now. Come on, everyone… huh?”

Mid-sentence, Azwin raised her hand, looking earnestly like a student asking a question to the teacher. Sheyden stopped to ask.

“What?”

“Why is it you waiting and not me?”

“Well, it could be anyone, but I still have much to tell Kassel. If I go to Nadium, there’s a lot I need to teach…”

Sheyden had many things saved up to tell Kassel slowly. He did not want to send Kassel off to Nadium without sharing those stories. That’s why he thought if someone had to stay and wait for the captain, it should naturally be him.

“I can tell those stories too. Therefore, I should stay.”

Azwin was stubborn. Seeing her face ready to burst if refused, Sheyden pondered for a bit before asking Dethain.

“Is the reason we’re needed in Lutia due to a battle?”

“Yes, and it’s not against humans.”

‘Not against humans?’

Curiosity piqued in Sheyden.

“How many foes?”

“Plenty.”

Dethain answered briefly. Sheyden, as if having made a decision, then said to Azwin.

“Did you hear that? In this case, you’re the right person for the job. You know why, right?”

Sheyden quickly summed up the conversation before Azwin could come up with a counterargument.

“If you must hurry, then depart at once. But how will you go? Following the main road through Nadium?”

“No, we will cross the Sky Mountains.”

Everyone wondered what he meant, but Sheyden had heard of it. It was Lutia’s magic that allowed for quicker travel without the roads.

“The Sky Mountains?”

Dunmel and Loyal were not pleased with the sudden change of destination. But the one who seemed most anxious was, unexpectedly, Gerald.

“Are you scared?”

Azwin teased.

“Uh, a bit.”

Everyone was surprised by Gerald’s response. His expression really did seem to indicate fear. Sheyden thought he must have failed at his attempt at humor again.

They all mounted their horses and left the stable. What was dry ground yesterday was now swamp-like, with water and mud making a squelching mess. The sound of horses’ hooves sloshed in the darkness. Just before Dunmel left the stable, he signed with his hands.

‘If we return and Kassel isn’t formally acknowledged as captain, I’ll consider it your fault.’

Sheyden signed back.

‘I’ll have to try hard then, if only to avoid a scolding from you.’

Though their departure was abrupt, they didn’t take long for farewells, thinking they would meet again soon in Nadium. It was everyone’s mistake. No one had asked Dethain how long the mission would be.

Sheyden stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets against the chill and watched the backs of the departing group. He didn’t even offer the usual well-wishes for safe travels to the ones he’d meet again soon. Only his unfinished conversation with Gerald weighed on him a little.

‘Well, I can always talk about it when they return.’

Sheyden went back into the stable. The lanterns had returned to their normal brightness, casting a slight gloom.

“I apologize to everyone, but I do not wish to give up my pleasant journey with Kassel.”

Sheyden muttered to himself and sat down where he had been sitting before.

Dawn was approaching. And another visitor arrived.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Has the mage from Lutia already come and gone?”

The voice wasn’t particularly threatening. It wasn’t a voice he recognized, nor were there any other signs of danger. Yet, Sheyden immediately picked up the spear lying next to him.

The chilly air after the rain filled the surroundings, but the sudden drop in temperature wasn’t because of that.

A mage stood beyond the wooden wall, broken by the fight between Gerald and Dethain. Cloaked in gray robes with a hood drawn deeply over the face, the visage was invisible. Oddly, darkness seemed to cling around him, and the jawline glimpsed beneath the hood was eerily indistinct. Black mist swirled around the hands clad in dark gloves.

He wore no accessories like a staff or a necklace, yet Sheyden thought he must be a mage.

“Who are you?”

Sheyden asked.

The gray-robed mage slowly lifted his head to look around. Still, his face remained hidden beneath the hood, obscured by an impenetrable darkness.

Despite the starkly different appearance, Sheyden immediately thought of the Black Knight of Camort.

‘A comrade of Dethain? It’s only been two hours since they left.’

Dethain might have had a temperament as blunt as Gerald’s and was hasty and aggressive for a mage, but he hadn’t given off a bad feeling. That’s why Sheyden had tried to show him the utmost courtesy. But this person was different. He smelled of death.

“I’m a bit late. Are you one of the White Wolves?”

The mage asked.

“Yes.”

“Is that so?”

The wizard leisurely raised his hand, then with a finger erect, he swept it from left to right.

During that brief time, Sheyden had all sorts of thoughts. The gesture of the magician was the most dangerous action when he thought it was nothing, as Quain had taught him.

Sheyden had excellent insight into the range and technique of an opponent’s attack, enough to defeat a knight of the Irophis royal family with the first spear he had taken up. He was the only one who had blocked all of Dunmel’s strange weapons and various techniques from the first moment he saw them.

Magic was different. Sheyden could not calculate the attack distance and power of magic.

‘Something’s coming?’

Sheyden positioned his spear vertically and thrust it forward. Something struck the spear hard. An invisible blade swept past both his shoulders. The iron spear vibrated with a resonant woong sound.

The wizard, who had moved his finger to the right, now returned it to the left. Sheyden, watching only the direction of the finger, laid flat on the ground. The sound of a blade passed overhead.

There was no leisure to recognize and speak of the adversary’s identity. Sheyden lunged at him, thrusting the spear forward. In that moment, the figure of the wizard vanished.

Among the Wolf lads, there was one who could move and attack faster than the speed of sight. In swordsmanship, Sheyden would have praised such speed as magic itself. But real magic was different. He couldn’t tell if the wizard had truly disappeared or if it was just so fast that it seemed to disappear.

Sheyden swung his spear almost instinctively, tracking the magician’s movement. But the adversary was already well out of the spear’s range, having retreated to the side of a hay pile inside the barn.

The wizard hovered about a palm’s length above the floor, gliding along. The wind he created swept the hay and wood chips on the ground to one side.

The wizard, momentarily hovering in midair, did not show any attacking stance. Instead, as he moved, something dark took shape within the fluttering shadow of his robe and flew towards Sheyden.

If the opponent used a sword, one could predict the next attack by watching the position of their feet. Nobody could swing a sword without a preparatory stance. Even someone as skilled as Dunmel had to show a change in the angle of his shoulder just before throwing a hidden dagger.

Whether it was a posture to shoot an arrow or throw an axe, Sheyden could read up to the posture before the stance was taken. But not with the wizard. There was no such thing as a preparatory movement.

‘No, just now, Dethain had a preparatory stance. He uttered something with his mouth, a spell, and there was a preliminary movement before using the spell. This one is different!’

What flew at Sheyden was a bat made of black smoke. With neither a straight nor a curved trajectory, two irregularly moving bats flew toward Sheyden’s face.

Sheyden twisted his body and, with a slightly unstable stance, swung his spear in a wide arc. Two bats were caught on the blade and shattered in midair. The spear vibrated as if it had struck stone.

“So it’s a magic spear, it seems. It does not shatter…”

The wizard spoke without emotion.

‘It is a spear crafted by Lergo with craftsmanship akin to magic.’

The horse tied in the corner of the barn panicked, rearing on its front legs and thrashing about. Tied up and unable to flee, it could only cry pitifully.

‘My knees hurt from sitting hunched all night. It would have been nice if I had just stretched them out a bit.’

His palms hurt from the impact of striking the bats. He could hardly grip the spear properly.

The sorcerer spread his arms from side to side. A wispy smoke formed around his body and clumped together into the shape of a crescent moon. In a way, it was a beautiful sight. A scythe made of mist sparkling under the morning sun.

The mist-formed crescent moon detached from the sorcerer and flew to Sheyden’s left. Expecting it to fly straight at him, Sheyden was instead taken aback. The massive scythe flew aimlessly, at times striking the walls, crushing hay, and slicing through barn pillars. All the while, Sheyden dodged with a craftiness that bordered on cunning.

A thrown weapon with no set target. Yet a weapon that did not fall. Such a thing had never crossed his mind.

‘I can’t avoid this one…’

Sheyden gripped his spear and leaned slightly backward. At this point, he decided that if he was going to be struck, he would take his adversary down with him. The sorcerer must have read Sheyden’s thoughts, as he did not remain idle. Black smoke rising from his fluttering robe began to form one, then two black bats.

The sound of a horse’s agonized scream pierced the air. There was no need to look; the crescent moon scythe had likely split a horse in two, causing the outcry.

Sheyden charged forward without hesitation.

The sorcerer scattered his hands. Four bats, previously circling his robe, flew towards Sheyden from all directions. However, Sheyden was not fooled by their appearance. The sorcerer’s first assault had been the crescent moon that had evaded Sheyden until now, leaving him soul-drained.

Maintaining his momentum, Sheyden jumped and turned in mid-air. The once small crescent moon-shaped magical blade had grown large enough to slice a human body into pieces by mere passing. The silently spinning crescent moon created an illusion, making it seem like a full moon.

Upon landing, Sheyden swung his spear from below upwards. The magic blade shattered like glass, vibrating the air. A thunderous noise burst forth, and the barn’s wooden windows blew outwards.

The fragments of the broken magical blade flew in all directions as if a real blade had shattered. Splinters lodged into Sheyden’s face, shoulders, side, and thigh, bringing a sharp pain that rose from his toes.

Immediately after destroying the crescent blade, Sheyden turned and yanked the grill. The four bats had already approached near his face. Without slowing his charge, Sheyden swung his spear, shattering two black bats before him. Then, with another swift turn and two steps forward, he struck down the remaining two bats.

The clang of the spear reverberated, and the pain in his palms intensified. But Sheyden finally reached the sorcerer.

The sorcerer belatedly moved to the side. Though it was a movement too quick to see, Sheyden had calculated the direction and extent of the sorcerer’s movement.

Sheyden thrust his spear in the anticipated direction. The sorcerer’s body, which seemed to have vanished for a moment, reappeared precisely where Sheyden had stabbed. Straws lifted from the ground by the wind of the crescent blade were now just beginning to fall.

Sheyden’s spear had pierced the sorcerer, pinning him against the wall of the barn. The sorcerer stretched out, impaled on the spear.

Blood flowed from Sheyden’s mouth. The broken shards of the magical blade embedded in his body vanished without a sound. But the wounds they had gouged remained. Blood from his mutilated body soaked his clothes and dripped loudly onto the floor.

“I never expected magic that even the master of Lutia could not withstand to be subdued in such a manner.”

The mage impaled on the spear slowly lifted his head and continued speaking.

“If I had known this would happen, I would have blown away this barn from the very beginning.”

The face hidden under the robe could not be seen, so there was no way to measure the pain by expression. He just thought that this level of attack would make it difficult for anyone, not even a mage, to survive. But his voice was far too intact.

“Human-made weapons cannot kill me.”

The mage grasped Sheyden’s spear. Sheyden tried to pull out the spear with renewed force, but he could not muster any strength in his hand. It wasn’t because of some magical effect. Sheyden had exhausted all his strength for that one attack, and the mage still had energy to spare. Even in physical strength, the mage was no less than Sheyden.

With one hand on the spear, the mage put his other hand’s finger on the left side of Sheyden’s face and, just as he did at first, slowly drew it from left to right. Sheyden let go of the spear and ducked his head to avoid the invisible blade that grazed past, slicing through his hair.

“Then and now, these White Wolves are equally bothersome.”

He slid his gloved hand into his robe sleeve and pulled out a wooden stick about two spans in length. It was just a plain wooden rod, but Sheyden would not have been more startled had he brandished a giant axe.

The magic performed barehanded was formidable enough; Sheyden didn’t even want to imagine the magic that could be done with a tool. The mage swung the stick casually, as if simply loosening his body. Yet with that single motion, a hot wind pushed the entire barn backward, and Sheyden’s body was flung back as well.

Sheyden was thrown through the broken barn wall and landed in a cold puddle of rainwater, rolling over several times. Muddy and weaponless, he got up with nothing in his hand.

The mage walked slowly towards him. His feet did not sink into the puddles. Only small ripples spread where his toes touched.

Yanking Sheyden’s spear still stuck in his belly, the mage threw it aside fiercely. The iron spear sank into the pooled water.

“So, where have Lutia’s mage and your friends gone?”

The mage pointed the rod at Sheyden, who alternately glanced at where the spear had fallen and the tip of the rod, calculating which would be faster as he said,

“You weren’t expecting an answer when you asked, were you?”

The tip of the rod glowed. Sheyden tried to dodge to the side, but his feet stuck in the mud disobeyed him. His body was too heavy.

Sheyden was shoved again, falling to the ground back-first. A hot surge rose from his stomach. Unable to bear it, he vomited a thick, hot mass. The dark, bloody mass spread widely on the sticky ground. After vomiting once, it was even harder to move his body.

Blood came from his nose and ears. His eyes wouldn’t open properly, and when he managed to, his vision blurred. Wiping with the back of his hand, he realized blood was also coming from his eyes. Apparently, the recent attack was more than just an unseen force pushing him.

Sheyden lifted his head to glare at the mage hovering in the air.

“I, too, won’t ask who you are… But even if I die… my friends will avenge my anger in my stead.”

“This is you paying for the sins committed against me by those who bore the name of the White Wolves before you. And eventually, all knights who bear the wolf’s name will follow you in your fate.”

Sheyden was caught by an invisible force and began to rise into the air. Like a puppet suspended on strings, he went up without resistance and became fixed in midair.

“Ugh.”

As the force pulling on his limbs grew stronger, Sheyden let out a groan. Blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, and he could no longer keep his eyes open.

“Your death will not lead to rest, knight of the White Wolves.”

Following the pain in his limbs, the invisible force began to pull at his throat. Sheyden could only gasp, no longer able to groan or scream or make any sound. His consciousness started to fade.

Just then, a series of sounds like the snapping of strings from musical instruments echoed, and Sheyden’s body fell to the muddy ground. At the same time, the body of the mage floating in the air was pushed back as if someone had let go of a pulled rope.

“The lord who rules the undying, your malevolent will shall find itself where Lutia stands.”

A great voice resounded thunderously in all directions.

‘Lutia? Has Dethain returned?’

But the voice was different.

Puddles on the ground burst upwards as if waterfalls were flowing in reverse. White light poured onto the gray-robed mage who shielded his face with his hands.

“Has the mage of Lutia come?”

As the gray-robed mage swung his staff, the rainwater that had risen fell back to the ground. Into this falling water, a wolf with silver fur ran towards the fallen Sheyden. The wolf bit into Sheyden’s nape and flung him onto its back.

Sheyden momentarily regained consciousness as he was pelted with heavy raindrops.

“You are…”

As Sheyden began to speak, the wolf urgently said,

“Hold on tightly.”

Sheyden did as he was told. The wolf sprinted through the falling water. As the gray-robed mage aimed his staff at the wolf, the ground beneath the running beast exploded. The wolf leaped to the side, avoiding the blast. Another explosion occurred where it landed, but the wolf had already anticipated it, hurling its body to the other side, out of the mage’s spell range.

“It’s futile, mage of Lutia. By the time Aranthia begins to burn, your home will already be ashes.”

The gray-robed mage’s shout reverberated from behind.

The wolf ran for half an hour straight. Occasionally, it looked back to see if the gray-robed mage was following, but even with no sign of pursuit, the wolf kept running. Sheyden, half-unconscious and barely clinging to the fur, eventually fell from the jostling back of the wolf.

The wolf immediately stopped and approached the fallen Sheyden. Without opening its mouth, the wolf said,

“Rise, Sir Knight. We cannot be at ease until we take refuge in the Heavenly Mountains.”

Sheyden half-buried his face in the cold mud, opening just one eye to look up at the wolf.

“Who… who are you?”

“I am Tanya, a mage of Lutia.”

The silhouette of the wolf in the backlight of the morning sun blurred and soon changed into a human figure. And the thick voice that had been difficult to distinguish by gender changed to that of a woman.

It was not a pleasant voice.

“I saw an ill omen and followed Master Dethain. I apologize for arriving late… If I had been here a little earlier, you would not have suffered this accident.”

Sheyden could no longer keep his senses. He took a deep breath and barely managed to speak.

“The captain…”

But before he could finish, Sheyden fainted.

–TL Notes–
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