Chapter 662

“Knut…?”

After finishing my training and taking a break, a messenger rushed to me, pulling out an old name buried deep in my memory.

“Yes. A one-eyed Dane with a limp. He was the vice-captain of some rune-engraving warrior group or something. They say he was a close friend of Marquis Median…”

I tilted my head for a moment.

Knut, Knut… Ah, right. I remember now.

That was the name of a Dane holy warrior who had targeted me back when I first entered the academy.

A guy who, despite suffering fatal injuries, somehow survived with someone’s help.

That guy came all the way here? Even lying that he was my friend?

…Why?

“Was he not… your friend?”

Seeing my bewildered expression, the messenger’s eyes flickered with a faint hint of anger and murderous intent, as if Knut had deceived them.

If I were to say I didn’t know him or that he was an enemy, it looked like he’d lead a group of knights to chop him into pieces.

That would be amusing in its own way… but first, I needed to hear why he came.

It wasn’t to deliver some greeting, and it couldn’t be to continue some unfinished fight from back then.

“We know each other. More like academy classmates than friends.”

I shook my head, calming the knight who seemed eager to prove his loyalty and anger through Knut’s limbs.

Honestly, even if he came to continue the fight, it wouldn’t matter.

The current me could crush the Knut from back then with a single finger, and even if he had gotten stronger since then, unless he had slain a dragon somewhere, I could beat him blindfolded.

“So, does Knut have a message for me?”

“Yes. What should I do?”

“Hmm… give me a moment.”

I turned my head and approached the group who had been listening to the knight’s report.

“Jahan, you should step aside for a bit. He’s a hardcore racist who despises Ka`har. And… Leonor, Nigel. Bring Knut here. Nigel, you know he’s a skilled Bølberg holy warrior, so if he tries anything suspicious, lighten his body weight a bit.”

“Yes!”

“Even if he’s your classmate, is that really okay?”

“He’s a delinquent student, and I’m a professor. Let’s call it strict discipline.”

Leonor muttered, half-joking, that they were more like enemies than classmates, before following the knight with Nigel.

I lit a cigarette, sat on a makeshift chair in the tent, and fiddled with Durandal’s hilt as I waited.

Either a disabled Dane would walk in, or the sounds of battle would sweep through the checkpoint, forcing me to rush out.

The former would be fortunate, but the latter would be a hassle. Not for me, but for the soldiers.

They’d have to jump up from their rest or deep sleep and get into defensive positions.

And not long after, to the soldiers’ relief, a familiar Dane face started walking from afar.

—

“Long time no see. Judging by your appearance, it doesn’t seem like you’ve been doing well… looks like you’ve had a rough time. Seeing you struggle to even walk.”

Knut, whom I met after a year, looked like a beggar. His hair was a mess, his beard was a mess, his armor was a mess, and he even had arrows stuck in him. It looked like he had been beaten up by the checkpoint knights.

Knut bared his teeth and grinned. His eyes were glaring even as he smiled, making it more of a threat than a smile. Not that it intimidated me.

“You look healthy. That lost mad dog face of yours now looks like a well-bred hunting dog.”

…This guy has no manners.

Nigel and Leonor, standing behind Knut, tapped the daggers at their waists, sending me a silent message.

Their gazes were fixed on the back of Knut’s head and his limbs. If I just said the word, they’d immediately stab him in the back.

The female knight who had helped Knut seemed uneasy about their hostility, her fingertips trembling slightly.

“What’s with your back? Is that the latest trend in Dane fashion?”

“I could give you one as a gift if you’re jealous.”

Hmm, if you stuck an arrow in my back, the arrowhead would just break.

“Where’d you sell your other eye?”

“Ah, dementia at such a young age. The Empire’s future is as dark as the sky.”

As Nigel’s hostility turned murderous, the female knight, who had been expressionlessly looking between me and Knut, closed her eyes tightly and then reached out to push Knut back.

“Knut. Calm down. You didn’t come here to play mind games, did you?”

Who’s this woman?

The female knight helping Knut had a face that looked like she’d seen it all, but it was still somewhat pretty. Strangely, I felt like I’d seen her somewhere before.

“Thank you for granting us an audience, Marquis Median. Your esteemed reputation precedes you. We are from the Engraved Holy Warriors…”

I blew out a puff of cigarette smoke, cutting off the female knight’s words, and continued my conversation with Knut.

It felt oddly surreal. The guy I had personally crushed was standing before me again—not exactly intact, but still, I never expected him to show up so quickly.

“Lucky you. Looking at the way you talk, I thought you’d grow old alone in some room, but you even have someone to take care of you.”

“…Frigg is not my lover.”

This time, his answer was oddly delayed. It sounded more like a flustered excuse than the truth.

“Sure, sure.”

I shrugged lightly. What’s with the denial? It was obvious there was something more than camaraderie.

The female knight also seemed slightly disappointed by Knut’s claim that they weren’t lovers.

“Come in. There’s no chair, so just sit on a crate. And Rana, please treat him.”

“Yes, sister!”

The female knight sighed and sat on a crate inside the tent with Knut. Leonor, who had followed them in, pulled out the arrows stuck in Knut’s back.

“Ugh…”

The arrows, along with chunks of flesh, were pulled out. The barbed arrowheads had torn through his wounds, causing Knut to let out a low groan.

As the divine light Rana manifested seeped into his body, the ugly arrow wounds began to heal cleanly.

“You’re healing me? Why?”

“If you collapse while trying to say something important, I might go crazy wondering what you were going to say.”

I answered nonchalantly, waiting for Knut’s treatment to finish. Not that his lost left eye or right leg showed any signs of recovery.

“The entrance is filled with horrifying sculptures. Even if you wear the Empire’s mask, it seems hard to shed Ka`har’s savagery, huh?”

“Those are all rapists.”

“But sometimes, such boldness becomes a warrior’s virtue.”

This guy knows how to make people laugh.

The Knut I met a year ago was consumed by revenge, with no interest in anything else. But the Knut I met again had lost some of that venom, like a neutered pet.

Though his one remaining eye was still glaring at me.

—

“So, why did you come? Surely not to seek asylum. You came because you have something to tell me, right?”

I flicked the ash off my cigarette and asked.

“Yeah. I have something to tell you. Information that might make you jump up in shock. That’s why I came here.”

“Then spit it out. Instead of glaring at me and sneering.”

“It’s not that… never mind. You’re right, this isn’t the time.”

Knut, who had been about to snap, lowered his head again, his fists trembling as he answered.

“First, answer this. Seeing you setting up defenses here, your strategy is to pit Dane against Ka`har and exhaust both sides… in other words, throw Dane to Ka`har as bait. Am I right?”

I pondered for a brief moment.

If I affirmed this, Knut might fly into a rage and hurl the Spear of War at me.

“Well… maybe? I don’t know, ask Ludwig.”

“Don’t play dumb. The Empire’s intentions are obvious even without your answer.”

Then why did you ask? I blew out cigarette smoke and shrugged. A silent affirmation.

“Let me tell you this. That strategy will fail. The current Dane has no intention of being your shield.”

“…What do you mean? Did you form an alliance with Ka`har?”

“Worse than an alliance.”

Knut chuckled. It was a laugh full of contempt. Though the contempt wasn’t directed at me.

“The Dane royal family and the Bølberg Church Order have withdrawn all troops from Ka`har’s path of advance. They left the people there to fend for themselves. Essentially, they’ve gifted Ka`har time and resources. Do you understand what that means?”

“…Madmen.”

Understanding Knut’s words, I couldn’t help but utter a curse filled with the same contempt.