Chapter 64 :

I do not know who I am.

But I know there is something I must do.

Although the memories of my existence have long faded, the duty to uphold remained deeply engraved in my soul.

I exist solely for that purpose.

※※※※

The first encounter was a confrontation, but from the second onward, it turned into rage, and then...

[Do you think you've achieved anything with such mediocre skill?]

It was nothing but violence.

Amidst the pinnacle of relentless violence, the headless man could only stagger back in great confusion.

It seemed he had momentarily forgotten.

The headless man, who had survived by taking the lives of others, realized the possibility that he too might become someone's prey.

Crash! Roar! Crash!

As he witnessed the sharp flashes thrusting through the unadorned sword, the headless man finally grasped an emotion long forgotten.

"······Who are you?"

Fear.

He feared that the current moment, with the priest's robes bursting and the distant presence of a ghost horse, would soon become his own fate.

[I have no words for trash who revels in the blood of children.]

A raging storm surge from the left eye of the voice.

It was a merciless tempest.

[So just die.]

For a moment, the world went white.

At least, that's what the headless knight felt.

There it comes.

The white monster.

Baring its ferocious teeth.

Coming to devour me.

A fierce beast made of white lightning charged straight towards the headless knight.

Even the raindrops falling seemed unable to catch up with him, moving at an incredible speed.

'Left? Or maybe...'

Even in the fleeting moment, the headless knight hesitated dozens of times, twitching his body.

Each step of the voice contained countless possibilities.

The problem was that within each of those possibilities, his own demise was engraved.

It was like an approaching fate, relentless and violent.

'Right!'

Despite reacting as best as he could to the uncertain movement of the voice, all that returned was a chilling sensation from behind.

[Was this all you could muster with such sluggishness?]

"······!"

Suddenly, the ferocious beast approached and breathed down the neck of the headless knight.

Daring to mock the potential I cherish, are you?

Roar!

"Aaah!"

The voice, filled with rage, mercilessly struck down the headless knight with the force of a raging storm.

Thrown to the ground by the overwhelming impact, the headless knight couldn't help but scream, and it wasn't over yet.

Crash! Crash!

The headless knight, who had been cut dozens of times while floating in the air, was struggling in fear worse than death.

"Cough!"

The headless knight, who was free from death and refused even pain, was now unable to come to his senses due to the attack of the voice that seemed to be tearing at his soul, not his body.

How could such a being exist in this world?

The headless knight could only wring his hands as he saw the voice that could not be compared to any enemy he had ever faced.

[Hand it over!]

A white beast lunged towards the headless knight lying in the rain-filled mud.

[Give it to me now!]

"Aaargh!"

The voice, echoing the boy's words from a moment ago, mercilessly struck the headless knight.

With each swing of the sword and fist, dry fragments fell weakly away from the headless knight.

Thunk!

"Aaargh!"

The voice twisted with the sword and pounded with fists, searching for the children's breath within the embrace of the headless knight.

A fragile world was bound to be devoured.

But the children were innocent.

They should not be driven into the harsh rules just yet.

[Here it is.]

Thus, the voice managed to catch the breath of the children being sucked into the darkness.

With a small sigh, the voice carefully held onto the shimmering breath of the children, still twinkling.

Though small, the presence of the children felt heavy.

Two worlds must shed blood and tears to grow the little sparkle they are holding on to now.

Feeling the weight ingrained by father and mother, the voice struck the chest of the headless knight once again.

"Grrk!"

On a rainy night, the knight who didn't know his own name plucked a single star from the darkness within the headless knight.

[Now, let's finish this.]

The voice carefully tucked the star into the boy's embrace and once again gripped the unadorned sword.

There was still work to be done.

[I used to remember how to kill scum like you, but it seems I've forgotten.]

"······."

The headless man looked at the voice slowly approaching him and reprimanded his mistake.

He thought they were peers, but they were not.

He was clearly someone who had escaped from death like himself, but his energy was extremely pure.

[I may not remember, but that doesn't mean there isn't a way.]

From the tip of the voice's fingers, white lightning began to illuminate the unadorned sword brightly.

[If I tear your limbs apart and shred you to pieces, you'll be no different than dead.]

The victor stands above, the loser below.

The winner determines everything.

And today, you will be torn apart here.

As the headless knight listened to the merciless fate determined by the voice, he stumbled backward, reaching out his hand.

It was as if he was shouting.

"Ramashtu... Sir Ramashtu!"

Unable to call upon a god, the headless knight could only call out the name of his master, desperately pleading as he staggered.

[······!]

Though the voice may not remember, it could feel it.

That the wretched figure before it was pleading for someone's help.

Thud!

[······this.]

But the boy's body began to scream, unable to endure any longer.

Though Vlad's body and the world had clearly grown, it was now too much.

Rather, it should be grateful for everything it had borne until now.

"I'm here!"

While the voice hesitated for a moment, the headless knight reached out his hands towards the sky, as if seeking salvation.

Yet the salvation he sought was not from the heavens, but from the earth.

As if a hole had opened, a dark shadow slowly opened its mouth, pulling the headless knight and the ghost horse towards it.

"Sir Ramashtu? Sir Ramashtu!"

Looking down at his hands, which were gradually withering away, the headless knight uttered a pitiful cry, but his master was already reclaiming immortality from him.

[Ramashtu.]

Rolling the familiar resonance in his mouth, the voice watched as the headless knight's last moments crumbled away.

Things that have served their purpose are bound to crumble someday.

Whether it was a form of punishment or to leave no evidence behind, the headless knight was shrinking away.

"No!"

Death was returning to the earth.

At the call of the master.

All he left behind in the world was one futile cry.

However, the voice, the sole entity to hear that cry, had no intention of remembering the man's last moments.

The voice began to make one last move, saved from the boy's limitations.

[Return to the depths.]

Kaaaang!

In the final cries of death, the voice struck with its last move, casting down an illegitimate pattern.

From the tip of the unadorned sword, the shimmering breaths of children spread out.

Fading death and blooming life.

The sight the voice saw in the village where the rain had stopped was life and death itself.

In the boundary between the two, it silently swallowed up all the sights.

The fog was dissipating.

※※※※

In the still deserted inn of the village, there was a man moving about alone, bustling in the silence.

He was also the one who had secretly returned to the quietened church and gathered the knights lying there like corpses.

"Captain. How's your body now?"

"...Just about as lousy as ever."

Vlad sighed lightly as he looked at Gott, who was looking at him.

It was frustrating to still find it difficult to even lift a spoon.

"Still, I'm glad you stopped. When you first brought it out, I thought it was some raggedy piece of cloth."

"..."

Vlad was silent as he vigorously stirred the soup he was holding.

It would be better to conserve his strength, as there were things he needed to do after eating this.

"There are other knights I need to take care of. Take a rest."

"Yeah."

With those words, Gott left Vlad's room.

Confirming Gott's departure, Vlad began to converse with the voice out loud.

Perhaps it was too much of a strain, but he couldn't convey his thoughts verbally.

The voice had said that this was how it would have to be for a while.

"Still, I'm glad everyone's alive."

[Yes, that's what matters most.]

All the knights who fought against the Headless Knight suffered major and minor injuries, but were still able to survive.

It was because the barrier set up by Yustia persistently held, protecting the knights, and Vlad's swift actions had lured the headless knight out of the church.

But ultimately, their survival was likely thanks to the voice.

The knights might have thought they were only four that night, but in reality, there was one more hidden member, a secret known only to the boy and the voice.

"Thank you."

[...Okay.]

The boy, though not yet accustomed to openly expressing his feelings, did his best to speak sincerely at that moment. 

The voice that knew the situation said nothing more and just closed its eyes inside the boy.

In the room with only Vlad, the sound of utensils clinking against each other echoed.

※※※※

After finishing his meal, Vlad got up to finish the work he had to do, even though he felt uncomfortable.

"Thank you! Thank you!"

"Sir Knight, thank you so much!"

Parents who had been cradling their children, whose breaths had been thinning that night, didn't hesitate to express their gratitude to Vlad as he shuffled with weary steps. 

Perhaps, to them, he was a subject worthy of more praise than any hero.

Vlad didn't respond directly to their gestures of gratitude, merely rubbing his nose to feel the tickling feeling that was rising for no reason.

And there were still matters to attend to.

"Do not approach further."

"I am from Shoara. The Holy Knight named Yustia know me."

"...Wait."

Vlad was standing in front of the half-destroyed church, waiting for the Holy Knight to inspect him.

Though the Holy Knights called by Yustia arrived a bit late, they were ensuring the completion of the task. Their investigation into the curse spread from the church undoubtedly reassured the villagers.

"Go inside and see."

With the permission of the unnamed knight, Vlad cautiously walked into the interior of the church.

The creaking floorboards and the lingering traces of that day filled the church with an eerie atmosphere, despite it being daytime.

If it weren't for the busy Holy Knights moving around, Vlad might have walked in with his sword drawn.

"Lady Yustia."

"...What brings you here, Vlad?"

Vlad, who was looking for the green-eyed woman while tilting his head, found Yustia holding a Bible-like book under the suspicious symbol.

"I need to go downstairs. There's someone I need to find."

"The women who went missing in Shoara have already been confirmed by Sir Gregory."

The investigative team from Shoara had come here originally to find the missing women. Although things had escalated along the way, Gregory hadn't forgotten his mission.

"I have someone specific I want to find."

"...Come with me."

And so did the boy.

There was someone he needed to find.

Guessing Vlad had his reasons, Yustia closed the book she had been examining for a while.

Opening the burnt door and descending the stairs into the basement, the two passed through, with faint light seeping through the small holes in the wall.

"There might still be remnants of the curse."

Vlad, who went down to the basement with Yustia's consideration, frowned at the bloody smell he felt from there.

"Can I investigate a bit?"

"If you get my blessing when it's done."

Understanding Yustia's words as permission, Vlad cautiously began clearing away the debris scattered around, searching for someone.

"….."

The faces of the suffering women were there.

Carefully uncovering, offering condolences.

As Vlad sifted through the bodies lined up, he let out a small sigh.

Though dirtied, familiar brown hair lay before him.

"I'll go out for a while."

Yustia, realizing that the person Vlad sought was there, stepped aside.

The basement, devoid of anyone else.

In the dim light, Vlad looked down at Anna without a word.

"Life can be truly dirty, right?"

The woman who had been beaten by a stranger and offered her eggs to the boy for protection lay there, her face stained with unshed tears.

Looking at her, the boy's predominant feeling wasn't anger but rather a melancholic sorrow.

If his blade had been sharper, if he had been stronger, perhaps she wouldn't be lying cold on the ground now.

Unable to find solace in his best efforts, Vlad swallowed a bitter lump and spoke.

"...In your next life, be born as something other than a prostitute."

Vlad raised his hand and gently closed the woman's exposed chest, which was wide open like that day. He hoped his touch would offer her some warmth.

In the space vacated by Vlad's departure, only the carefully arranged woman remained.

Unlike the others, she bore no traces of black tears.

In her hand, faintly lit, was a ring with a flower engraved on it.

A woman who never breathed, never touched the ground.

A being that is free from God and not subject to the laws of the world.

"....."

She closed her eyes, recalling the blue eyes of the boy.

And someone's soul etched into the left eye of that boy.

It was a luminous soul, yet marked by cruelty, undoubtedly someone who had used an ancient technique.

"The old ways are stirring," the woman thought to herself.

The time has come.

Turbulent times. A time when cracks begin to appear.

Such times would be ideal for people like them, living on the edge of the border.

The woman had waited for this time for a long time.

"...My knights may take whatever they find pleasing among what lies ahead."

Still with her eyes closed, the woman pointed with her finger into the darkness.

In the direction her finger indicated, there were still faces dripping with blood.

Faces in agony, faces in shock, or faces filled with terror.

The faces of Baron Utman's knights were there.

"For now, let them serve on this land."

"Understood, Lady Lakshma."

The headless knights, waiting for her in silence within the darkness, bowed their heads towards their mistress.

Baron Utman had paid the price.

His only son had returned from death, and as the price for that, the city of Mosiam embraced darkness.

Darkness seeps in everywhere.

And it always seeks an opportunity.

Just like the woman with her eyes closed right now.

Tonight, the night sky that approached Mosiam was darker than usual.

※※※※

Vlad looked at the woman facing him and thought.

Her eyelashes are quite long when you look closely.

Her eyes were of the same color as Oksana, yet they portrayed a completely different feeling, which made observing her all the more interesting.

"So you got sucked into a black hole that suddenly appeared?"

"Yes."

Yustia's harsh tone and facial expressions were reminiscent of a scene from an interrogation, but her attitude toward Vlad was actually very considerate.

After all, it was the blond-haired boy who dealt with the headless knight while they were lying in the half-collapsed church, relying on a faint barrier.

It was only natural to want to take extra care of the boy who had done his best.

"Please explain in more detail."

Although she asked in a stern tone, Yustia handed him a sweet tea with her hands.

Their first meeting was the worst, but having survived the battlefield akin to death together, the two were now comrades.

"So, I climbed up to the bell tower and broke the emblem. Then, that bastard got angry, and..."

Vlad, encouraged by Yustia's consideration, once again began to describe the events of that night in detail.

The boy, the last witness and survivor of the headless knight, was the person who held an important clue to explain this situation.

In other words, it also meant that there was no solid evidence to replace the boy's testimony.

"The battle was too intense. Just deflecting the blows from that guy's swinging sword was difficult enough."

The scene recreated through close investigation was truly gruesome.

This is because there were traces of another person who had suffered pitifully in the face of one person's violence.

The Holy Knights, who discovered someone's miserable struggle among the chaotic mix of footprints, applauded in respect for the boy on the spot.

No one had thought that the boy, who was just a squire, could overwhelm the headless knight.

"Then suddenly, a black hole appeared from the ground. It sucked in the headless knight like the mouth of some giant beast."

Yustia listened intently as Vlad's testimony skillfully blended truth and falsehoods about that day's events.

Having grown up alongside prostitutes who lived by their eloquence, Vlad's storytelling was quite convincing.

"And then he vanished. I'm not that old, but it was a sight I'd never seen in my life."

"Hmm."

Yustia became lost in worry as she listened to Vlad's testimony, which sounded like gibberish but contained everything.

"Oh! And he seemed to be calling out some names."

"Some name? What name?"

Yustia, who was thirsty for even the slightest clue, looked at Vlad, who was tearing his hair out trying to remember, with wide eyes.

"Oh, I can't remember. My head's all foggy."

"Wait. Maybe if you eat something, it'll jog your memory."

Yustia swiftly grabbed a nearby fruit and began peeling it at lightning speed.

Though there was not a single visible crevice to dig into, Vlad couldn't help but make a subtle expression as he watched her, now innocent-looking, in her current state.

"Rama... What was it... Ramashtu?"

"Ramashtu?"

"Yeah, that's it. Ramashtu, I think."

Upon hearing Vlad's words, Yustia suddenly stopped in her tracks with a rigid expression.

Unknowingly, her grip tightened on the fruit she was holding, leaving deeper marks on it.

"...Right. Thank you for your cooperation."

Yustia set down the fruit she was peeling and stood up.

"San Rogino will not forget your valor on that day."

"...Yes."

"Rest."

Watching Yustia hastily leave after her brief words, Vlad remained seated with a blank expression.

In this respect, Yustia's firmness was evident, and Vlad couldn't seem to grasp her as a person.

But still, it was fortunate.

Everything had passed without incident.

[Thank goodness. Because she doesn't doubt you.]

"I heard the size of the foot was the same. Even if you're like me, you're confused."

Here was a boy who used common sense and prejudice as a shield to give false testimony to a faithful holy knight.

Although he had lied, the information he contained was true, so Yustia's efforts would not be in vain.

"If you're going to peel it, peel it all before you leave."

Vlad casually picked up the fruit Yustia had left behind and took a bite out of it in one go.

"...Sour."

The fruit, only half-peeled, had her taste in it.

※※※※

The next morning.

After faithfully completing all investigations, Yustia and the Holy Knights bowed their heads as they saw off the group leaving the village.

Though they held a certain pride, being close to God, the actions of the Shoara investigation team in this village were undoubtedly commendable.

Even now, there were Holy knights extending handshakes to the boy in recognition of his efforts.

"Our San Rogino will not forget your courageous decision."

"...Then please speak a bit more carefully. Because the mayor I'm currently serving is a very strict person."

Yustia could only respond with silence to Gregory's jesting remark, which sounded more like a warning.

As a Holy knight who always had to speak the truth before God, she couldn't afford to omit the name of Bayazid's Gregory in this matter.

"Although I cannot tell a lie, I will do my best to consider Sir Gregory's position."

"I just wish you wouldn't do it in the first place."

"...Sorry."

The group, who had recovered their energy with the holy power of the Holy Knights, was making final inspections and waiting for Gregory's departure signal.

Yustia's green eyes lingered on a small flag the boy was carefully folding.

".....Vlad had the flag."

"He is a squire that Bayezid is paying attention to, which appeared after a long time. We should handle it with care."

Upon hearing Gregory's words, the surrounding knights nodded in agreement. It was reasonable to pay attention to someone with such courage.

"We'll take our leave now."

"May the grace of Saint Rogino be with you all."

After bidding farewell to the Holy knights, Gregory signaled, and Gott took hold of the reins.

Heeey-

The group moved forward with a modest cart instead of the burnt carriage.

Although they had lost the carriage, they had gained the favor of the Northern Parish of San Rogino.

They didn't know when they might need it, but surely they could expect help at some point.

"Are you okay?"

"I can manage."

"If you're uncomfortable, speak up. It'll be troublesome if you get hurt for no reason."

Still feeling the effects of the voice, Vlad settled himself at the end of the borrowed cart.

The reality of constantly riding in a cart was unsettling, but since he couldn't ride a horse, there was no other choice.

"The fog is clearing, it looks nice."

"It's supposed to be sunny here. It was all because of him, after all."

Gregory's words provided some reassurance to Vlad.

It would be better for Anna to be buried in a sunny, open village rather than somewhere in the dark back alleys of Shoara.

As they left the fog-filled village, people at the entrance waved goodbye to the group heading to Shoara.

Among them, Vlad spotted the child who had given him the flower ring and waved back gently.

The boy, swaying on the shaky cart, lifted his head to gaze at the sky.

The sky, filled with drifting white clouds, was a deep blue hue.

"Nice."

He sincerely hoped Anna would find warmth in this place.

Blessed by the Holy knights and bid farewell by the villagers, the returning group felt lighter as they headed back to Shoara than when they had arrived.

※※※※

Shoara's mayor's office bathed in sunlight.

Josef, the owner of the place, was pouring tea for the elderly man seated at the reception table.

Although he was dressed in shabby clothes, he had a unique look in his eyes.

"When did you arrive here?"

"It's been a while since I arrived. About two days."

"I would have come to greet you immediately if I had known."

Josef poured tea with a neat demeanor, and the elderly man watched him with a pleased expression.

The frail child who seemed on the brink of death not long ago had grown so mature. The old man felt proud to have contributed even a little to this change.

"Even now, I'm just the lowest of the low. How can I command you to come and go?"

When he saw Josef, he was referring to him as 'young master' rather than 'mayor', but not only those who were listening but even Zayar who was next to him were ignoring it without saying anything.

The elderly man drinking tea had the authority to address Josef as "young master" wherever and whenever he pleased.

"Right. Where is he?"

Knowing the old man's impatient nature from a young age, Josef chuckled and replied even before the tea cup was lowered.

"I sent him on a mission. He's been dispatched to Baron Utman's estate, so he'll be back with a report soon."

"Oh. Already on a mission even though he is a squire."

Hearing Josef's words, the elderly man's eyes lit up, and he nodded.

Perhaps this boy might prove useful after all.

"In fact, before coming to Shoara, I stopped by Sturma to meet the head of the family. I only had one ducat left, so I wanted to wrap things up."

[T/L: "두카트" (Ducat) typically refers to a type of gold coin that was used in several European countries during medieval and early modern times. It was a currency unit often used for trade and transactions. While the value of a ducat could vary depending on factors such as time period and issuing authority, it generally represented a standard unit of currency, typically made of gold.]

Josef and Zayar flinched at the mention of "one ducat."

Was that the intention behind coming here?

"The squires there are all a bunch of dim-witted fools. How did they all end up bearing the Bayezid's name?"

The old man, who had turned his head with a dismissive click of his tongue, remarking on the lack of capable young men these days, now addressed Zayar.

"Is your squire any different?"

"...Well, he is probably better than those fools."

"Seems like the grumbler has something useful to say."

Zayar, referred to as a grumbler, clenched his lips shut in response to the old man's remark.

But what could he say? In his prime, he had shown the old man every possible aspect of himself, so he had nothing to say.

"I hope this lad Vlad grows on me. If he turns out like that Sobanin fellow, relying solely on his parents' reputation and acting all high and mighty, even if he's your squire, he'll get a good thrashing, young master."

"My squire has no parents."

Josef offered pastries to the old man with a smile.

"He grew up in the back alleys without parents, crawling up here on his own strength."

"Oh..."

Understanding the old man's intention in coming here, Josef tried to keep him interested as much as possible.

Josef's story about the typical starting point of self-made success would surely appeal to the old man's nostalgia for difficult times.

"You need not reward me with a ducat, just teach that guy a lesson."

"Well, if the young master insists..."

Chewing on the offered pastry and stroking his beard, the old man pondered.

Josef glanced at the flag stuck behind the old man.

"Of all the young men I've seen recently, none have pleased me."

Although it was small and old, it looked like it had been handled with care and was clearly similar to the flag that Josef had given to Vlad.

"Since you have requested it, I'll take a closer look, young master."

Stroking his proud goatee, the old man stalled while fiddling with the flag.

The old, worn flag bore over ten emblems, each representing the honor earned by its bearer over the years.