I Pulled Out the Excalibur

A single strike, clashing with all one’s might in a single strike to determine victory or defeat, is the ultimate conclusion they yearn for. Yet, at the same time, they realize,

Such an end is rarely granted.

Duels, battles, life-risking fights—by their very nature—do not accommodate such exchanges when there’s a power disparity, and the situation hardly changes even with equals.

Mind games, grappling, traps, minor mistakes.

Such elements decide the victors and the vanquished, the living and the dead. It’s ludicrous. Fights that end before one can fully employ a lifetime of honed skills are all too common. It’s often these trivial things that determine the outcome.

Thus, exchanging all-out strikes and deciding a fight is something you’d expect in tales of heroes. Reality isn’t so forgiving.

But at this moment.

At this very moment, that has become the reality.

Ah, Klaus sighed. He, performing his all-out lance charge, felt a thrill coursing through his body. With each step he advanced, his counterpart, the swordsman, also stepped forward.

They are charging at each other.

There is no embellishment in their rush. No giving in, no compromise, no retreat. Just pure power! Only a full-powered sprint and all-out strikes exist here.

How beautiful this scene is.

It is the finest conclusion, both as a knight and a warrior.

‘Come, as much as you want, as much!’

The commander of the Blue Wings, Klaus Aten, burst out laughing. This last charge of one swordsman could be so beautifully tragic.

Squeak!

And thus, one cavalryman thrust his spear. Cutting through the air and slicing the wind, the spear moved forward. Facing it was a sword swung by another swordsman. The constellation-wrapped longsword did not aim for the sides or strike from above.

Unyielding and head-on.

The end of the spear thrust straight.

Simply met with full force.

Because it was the sword of Atanga. Because it was a tribute and respect sent by a Knight of Atanga to a worthy opponent he acknowledged. The constellation-wrapped Najin’s longsword swung horizontally. The moment the blade met the spear’s tip, a burst of light exploded in all directions.

Crack!

The imagery imbued in the charging cavalryman’s aura, and the imagery of the stars risen from the Underground City collided. The moment of collision burst into stars. The swirling auras vibrated the air.

In an instant, dozens of clashes occurred in less than a second. It was a collision created by auras and sword energy, not mere metal. The aftermath splattered, ripping through Klaus and Najin’s skin. Blood sprayed.

Splat!

Amidst the spurting blood, both sword and spear pushed forward. As if to say, the clash of spear and sword was merely an interruption. Finally, for a brief moment, the auras and sword energy sheared off from the metal.

The missing parts sought to replenish in that instant.

The instant split into a mere fraction of time.

Crossing all hindrances, the spear and sword faced each other. That confrontation was brief. And victory is always decided in an instant.

Boom——

A heavy footstep echoed. In the final moment, Najin stepped forward again. And so, Najin’s sword advanced one step further. That decided the victory.

Tick, tick, tick…

In the slowly unfolding scenery, Klaus saw it. Najin’s blade splitting the spearhead and advancing forward. The spear he had been with all his life was coming to an end.

Scrape.

Najin’s sword completed its trajectory. Splitting the spear in half as it advanced, the longsword also split the hand of Klaus holding the spear. The blade first drew its path, and the constellations scattered afterward.

The spurting blood. The halved spear.

The rapidly flickering constellations before his eyes.

‘A perfect defeat.’

In the final moment, feeling a sentiment similar to Jerold’s, Klaus burst into laughter. An impeccably perfect strike. A strike that utterly shattered the enemy’s full force right in front— such is the sword technique only permissible to the knight among knights, Klaus soliloquized.

If the sword of Atanga is to mark the end of his life, it would be a satisfactorily lived one indeed.

The scattered constellations exploded. Thrown back by the recoil, Klaus spat blood and crashed against a great tree. He coughed up blood as he slumped against it and closed his eyes.

Blink.

Klaus slowly blinked his eyes.

His body felt heavy. His mind was sluggish. He must have been embracing death, yet here he was— was there an afterlife in this world? If so, was it heaven or hell he was destined for? Surely it must be hell…

Such profound contemplation was his at the moment.

“Are you explaining this right? Come on, I’m no wizard.”

A voice hovered near his ear.

Too rough for an angel’s voice, too kind to be a demon’s. Most importantly, it was a familiar voice. Groaning, he blinked again.

“Ah, never mind.”

Sizzle! The sound of flesh burning.

Even in his dulled senses, he could distinctly feel the pain, causing Klaus to snap his eyes wide open. His mouth agape, a scream escaped him.

“Arghhhhh!”

“Uh, are you sure this is correct? It’s supposed to hurt, right? Sigh…”

The pain made him wide-eyed.

With a suddenly clear mind, Klaus looked ahead. There stood Najin, looking down at him as if talking to someone else, muttering to himself as he noticed Klaus’s open eyes.

“Oh, are you feeling a bit more lucid?”

“What have you done…?”

“Nothing much, just what needed to be done.”

Najin casually tapped his neck.

“You know the mark on your neck. If left alone, it could explode, right? I’ve seen quite a few people explode, and it’s not a pleasant sight.”

A mark? Could it be the one the Starlight Order had branded?

Klaus hurriedly felt his neck. The mark that should have been there was gone.

“How?”

“The greatest archmage and the master alchemist, armed with Merlin’s knowledge and Dieta’s support, had a hand in it… or so they say. Just received some impressive help.”

Najin shook a potion bottle in front of Klaus. A potion crafted with Merlin’s knowledge and Dieta’s support.

“The mark was made to recognize you as ‘dead,’ and to ‘misfire’ as if triggered… that’s what I heard. The Order now thinks you’re dead.”

Those were Najin’s words.

Klaus blinked as he processed the situation. It was hard to keep up, but he could understand what Najin was implying.

“Why… would you keep me alive?”

The boy had chosen to spare him.

The attacker who had attacked him.

Klaus couldn’t grasp why.

“Because there’s no need to kill you.”

“What…?”

“Obviously, the Order had some leverage over you. Maybe a hostage, or your honor was at stake… Based on my own judgment, you were disillusioned with being the Order’s hound. Am I wrong?”

Klaus did not deny it, and Najin continued speaking.

“Besides, you failed your mission. The Order thinks you’re dead. If they had hostages, they might decide to kill them now. That’s unfortunate. Sorry, but I can’t just die for them.”

Najin stated calmly.

“But I can make you an offer.”

“An offer?”

“I’ll give you a chance to take revenge on the Order.”

Revenge.

“I am Najin. Eighteen years old, and today I reached the realm of the Sword Seeker. How do you rate my skills?”

“A devilish question indeed.”

Klaus grimaced as he chuckled.

“Strong. Unbelievably so.”

“Yes, and I plan to become even stronger.”

“For what purpose?”

“To hang a star at the highest point of the night sky. And to bring down the Order.”

Najin grinned, a smile playing on his lips.

“I will ascend to the realm of a Sword Master. I will become a force capable of single-handedly dismantling the Order. I must reclaim the honor of my mentor, the knight I served, from the Order.”

A far-fetched goal.

However, having received Najin’s blade, Klaus could not scoff at that goal. It felt tangible.

“I will definitely bring down the Order. I will thrust my sword into the heart of High Priest Orland, who watches over the world from the top of the Lighthouse.”

But, Najin added,

“In that process, I won’t stop anyone who wishes to follow me. If their revenge is justified, I might even spare an arm of Orland.”

“Just an arm…”

“Yes, unfortunately, that bastard’s heart is mine to take.”

Klaus burst out laughing.

“So, you’ll spare me? Me, who tried to kill you?”

“Yes.”

“On what do you base your trust?”

“On your pride.”

Najin replied, and Klaus fell silent for a moment.

“I saw pride in you. The pride of someone who wishes to remain a knight. That is not something a mere hound possesses. I believe in that.”

And with that, Najin shrugged his shoulders.

“Even if I’m wrong, it doesn’t matter. If you want to cling to the Order again, try. I will face you, as many times as needed.”

Najin tapped his sword hilt.

“But next time, I might not spare you like now.”

“Arrogant, but I can’t call it unjustified, not after being defeated so thoroughly.”

Klaus gave a bitter smile.

He was completely defeated. It didn’t seem likely that he would win if he tried again. Najin offered his hand to Klaus, who was still chuckling.

“Make your choice. To die by my sword here and now…”

If not that.

“Or to choose the path of vengeance against the Order.”

Klaus looked at Najin’s extended hand.

He had no hostages. His comrades were already dead. Klaus had cooperated with the Starlight Order only because it was the Starlight Order that could remove the heretic mark branded on his comrades.

The Starlight Order had branded them.

Despite hating and cursing them, he had no choice but to follow their commands. A mere defeated commander could not bring down the Starlight Order.

‘But…’

Klaus looked at the boy before him.

Surviving a duel to the death was a disgraceful thing. Yet, if there were depths to which he could fall, there were things that needed to be accomplished.

“Huff…”

After a moment of silence, he exhaled deeply. A bitter smile formed on his lips.

“The victor has the right to show mercy and to make an offer…”

Klaus spoke of the sacred duel’s rules.

Najin took up the next part of the ritual.

“The vanquished has the duty to accept.”

“That’s right. Because it is a duel.”

“And so?”

“I accept. With gratitude.”

Klaus grasped Najin’s hand and slowly rose to his feet. Using the potion Najin provided, he staunched the bleeding and took a deep breath.

“What about the others?”

“They haven’t died.”

Najin glanced sideways.

There lay Jerold, barely alive, along with a few Experts.

“Not all of them may agree to my offer. Persuade them, or sort it out as you wish. I leave them in your hands.”

“That’s a tough role to assign.”

“You were the strongest among them.”

Najin said, and Klaus laughed.

“If that’s the case, I have no choice but to try.”

With that reply, he slowly exhaled.

Stabilizing his breathing, he raised his heavily bleeding arm, pain be damned. With that lifted arm, he thumped his chest.

Blood splattered. Amidst the spurting blood, Klaus’s voice echoed.

“I thank you for elevating a dishonorable assault to a duel. For shattering with full force my full force. For showing mercy to the vanquished, for giving a chance for revenge.”

Gratitude.

“I, Klaus Aten, do not forget a favor.”

He slowly knelt and bowed his head.

“The last of the Blue Wing Cavalry will always answer your call, and on the day your blade points at the Order, I will charge ahead of all others, I swear upon the honor of my fallen comrades.”

“Unfortunately, I’ll be leading the charge. I can’t give you the vanguard role.”

“That’s regrettable. Then, I shall follow a step behind you.”

The last of the Blue Wing Cavalry smiled. His spear could now be held by one who knew honor and pride.

“Bring those who share your resolve to this place. The Dieta Trading Company can offer assistance.”

Najin, along with a potion for erasing marks, handed Klaus several documents. As Klaus received them and listened to the explanation, he stroked his chin.

“There is one problem.”

“What is that?”

“Those deployed on this mission, like me, are hounds with no direct ties to the Order. But I doubt that slippery character wouldn’t have placed at least one watchdog.”

Klaus clicked his tongue.

“There will be watchers. It’s highly likely there are those observing this situation from afar. They might have already witnessed you joining me. And currently, I am marked as a heretic by the Order. That means…”

“They could frame it as associating with a heretic. A religious persecution following an armed assault.”

“That’s right. That’s more the Order’s style.”

“Well, I’ve thought about that aspect already…”

Najin chuckled.

“This matter won’t leak to the Order.”

“What? What do you mean…”

“My collaborators are much more competent, thorough, and frightening than you might expect.”

The Snake that Swallows Gold, Dieta.

Her net is cast much wider than this. She has mercenaries at her disposal beyond just Roselin Ascalo.

“By now, things have likely been taken care of.”

The Order’s sent watcher was found nailed to a tree, limbs severed. Dangling from the tree, the watcher’s eyes darted around. There stood a woman, laying out various torture tools, tending to them.

A woman who, in an instant, had seen through his presence from a distance and subdued him. The watcher knew her name well.

The White-rank Adventurer of Cambria.

Former heretic inquisitor, Bashen Corte.

A mercenary under exclusive contract with the Dieta Trading Company.

She loathed the Order to the extreme, entangled in a bad history with High Priest Orland. She exhaled deeply, glaring at the watcher. In the dimly lit forest, her crimson eyes gleamed like those of a beast.

“Seven.”

She spoke.

“There were seven watchers, including you. Four are dead. No need for too many mouths. I intended to keep two for cross-examination, but…”

Bashen rolled something in her hand.

It was a plucked eyeball, a severed tongue.

“They insisted I should kill them instead. So, I did. That leaves a blind man with his eyes gouged out, and you, relatively intact.”

The watcher felt a chill run down his spine.

Bashen Corte had been an inquisitor. She knew hundreds of ways to torture and coerce speech.

“No need for eyes to talk. Can you read Braille? It’s essential for a priest of the Order. Then you won’t need ears either. No need to hear words. Oh, but your arms are gone, so that won’t be easy.”

Muttering, Bashen approached the watcher. Then, with a jerk, she grabbed his hair and shoved her face close to his. Madness swirled in her beast-like crimson eyes.

“Looks like you won’t be needing eyes either.”

Bashen reached out her hand.

Screams echoed through the forest.