Chapter 17 – The Light That Shouldn’t Be Grasped (3)
An offer, yet also a threat.
Ivan looked at his long-time senior.
A knight who once stood with him on the same battlefield but betrayed Atanga and devoted himself to the Order. He wanted to scream in disdain at the man who had forsaken honor and pride to dare speak the name of Atanga, but Ivan knew he couldn’t.
He was no longer a Knight of Atanga.
He had lost his honor that day ten years ago.
“The high authority wishes this matter to be resolved quickly and quietly. For now, the other constellations and factions are unaware… but that won’t last forever.”
Berlot continued, oblivious or indifferent to Ivan’s internal struggle.
“We are short on time, Ivan.”
He spread three fingers in front of Ivan.
“I’ll give you three days. Bring the boy to me alive or dead within that time.”
“… Sir Berlot.”
Ivan, who had been silent, finally spoke.
Though on his knees and one-eyed, his eyes were clearly filled with anger.
“Isn’t the Order supposed to serve the stars?”
“I didn’t give you a chance to ask questions.”
“Respecting and protecting the will of the great stars, isn’t that the doctrine of the Order……”
Ivan’s words were cut short.
Berlot kicked him in the jaw.
With a thud, Ivan’s head snapped to the side.
“Hey, Ivan.”
Berlot grabbed Ivan’s hair.
“Am I a joke to you for showing leniency out of old times’ sake? A sinner who insulted the stars dares to question a Knight of the Order about the will of the stars? Get a grip, man.”
Berlot sighed as if frustrated.
“Know your place. It’s troublesome if you trample on the favor I’ve offered like this.”
“… It was a slip of the tongue.”
“That’s better. Now you’re seeing eye to eye.”
Ivan lowered his head.
Berlot looked down at him, head held high.
“None of the constellations, not even the ‘Lighthouse that Illuminates All Things’, the main deity of the Starlight Order, are aware of the current situation.”
Don’t understand what this means?
Berlot continued.
“It means this is a clear error. If even the Lighthouse didn’t notice, it means this event should never have happened. When something that shouldn’t happen does, making it as if it never happened is the loyalty the Order offers to him.”
All stars are noble and sacred to the Order that serves the stars, but… there’s always a clear hierarchy.
The constellation, the Lighthouse that Illuminates All Things.
Berlot caressed the armor engraved with the constellation of the Order’s main deity.
“I won’t repeat myself, Ivan.”
Berlot glared at Ivan.
“Swearing on the loyalty I offered to the great Lighthouse, I promise you. The offer I made here as not just Berlot, but as Knight Berlot of the Starlight Order, will be honored.”
A knight who chose the divine over honor and pride.
Such a Berlot swore an oath of allegiance to his god. The heaviest oath Berlot could make. Ivan knew refusing meant immediate death.
“I am grateful for the extraordinary opportunity and will do my best.”
Ivan bowed his head.
His forehead did not touch the ground, the last remnant of his pride, but Berlot pressed down on the back of his head.
“Gratitude is shown like this.”
Ivan’s forehead hit the ground.
Berlot whispered in his ear.
“Start moving now, before I lose my patience.”
* * *
Having stepped outside, Ivan fumbled for a cigarette.
He lit it and inhaled deeply. Exhaling the murky smoke, Ivan’s expression was rigid.
「They promise to help restore my status as a knight of Atanga.」
「It means I can regain the honor I lost.」
The offer extended by Berlot, the former Knight of Atanga.
Of course, Ivan knew. A knight’s honor isn’t something to be regained like this, through manipulation and filthy power games.
He didn’t desire such things. The honor gained in such a way was worthless to Ivan.
Yet Ivan couldn’t refuse Berlot’s offer, due to a natural human desire. The desire to live. Unlike Offen, Ivan still clung to the desire to live.
‘I can’t die yet. I want to live more.’
In this starlight-deprived underground city.
As a half-worthless knight who lost his eye and honor, Ivan didn’t want to face death. If he survived, maybe another chance would come. Ivan ended up thinking that way.
He must kill Najin.
To kill him meant Ivan could survive.
Beneath that clear proposition, Ivan chain-smoked. Under the dim light of the ores, Ivan’s eyes clouded over.
“Sigh…”
His knightly self questioned.
“Is there meaning to such a miserable life?”
To that question, Ivan answered.
“I still want to live, even if it’s like this.”
Human beings always prioritize their own lives. Faced with impending death, humans can become endlessly selfish and cruel. Ivan was no different.
He was the same, yet…
Ivan couldn’t easily step forward. He met Offen’s eyes as he emerged from the alley, understanding that Offen had helped Najin, yet Ivan didn’t immediately act.
Just a bit more.
Just a little longer.
Pulling out another cigarette, Ivan fumbled with it. Lighting it and exhaling smoke, he didn’t move until every cigarette in the pack was gone.
***
The Order’s hounds, the Shadows.
Those belonging there weren’t knights but were close. Unable to draw out sword energy but skilled in mana manipulation, comparable to knights. They were more akin to rangers than knights.
Ambush, undercover, pursuit, assassination.
Those dirty tasks were precisely what the Shadows specialized in. Sworn to secrecy to prevent this incident from leaking, they dispersed to track down the boy.
The boy who drew the sword had fled the day before.
Not fully understanding the layout of the underground city and needing a day’s time was a significant gap… But for those in the Shadows, such things were hardly a constraint. A back-alley boy who had never received proper training, wasn’t he?
Despite the uniqueness of drawing the sword.
That was all there was to it.
In fact, if the boy used the sword during an encounter, that would be the end. The moment the burst of light was spotted, all scattered Shadows would converge there. So, lure him into a battle.
With this judgment, the pursuers acted alone.
“…”
A pursuer, silent, followed a narrow alley. He narrowed his eyes as he sensed a presence from deep within. Following the sound, he slowly moved.
Distinct footprints on the ground.
Footprints that seemed to be the size of the boy’s.
Following the footprints, the pursuer stopped abruptly at the sound of footsteps echoing in the alley. Had his pursuit been noticed? He leaped toward the source of the sound.
But what awaited him was nothing but abandoned shoes. Thrown from above down to the alley. The pursuer realized the true nature of the sound he had heard.
The shoes were a decoy.
The target was his life.
The pursuer quickly drew his sword and swung it upwards. Thanks to his heightened senses, he managed to react in time. As he swung his sword, there was a clanging sound of metal striking metal.
Najin, who had leaped down to ambush the pursuer, slid to a landing on the ground.
In the darkness that shrouded the alley, the boy’s dusk-colored eyes ominously glowed. The pursuer, feeling a chill, heightened his mana and senses. Just for a moment, those glowing eyes wavered.
Thump!
With a sound of kicking the ground, the boy’s figure vanished instantly. A flashing blade sliced through the darkness, aiming straight for the neck. The pursuer barely deflected the sword with a clang, creating some distance.
‘Not very fast, but threatening.’
This wasn’t the skill of someone who had cut down just one or two people. While lacking the outstanding speed of mana users, he was still a nuisance. His technique for exploiting blind spots was considerable.
…Tsk.
The pursuer clicked his tongue and narrowed the distance with the boy, swinging his sword in a wide arc to force Najin back. Then, he threw a concealed weapon from his sleeve.
A black dagger.
In the darkness, something that would be hard to see with the naked eye unless one was accustomed to such conditions like the Shadows. He envisioned the dagger piercing through the retreating boy’s neck, but…
Whack.
Najin caught the flying dagger in his hand.
Having lived his entire life in the dark underground city, Najin was naturally accustomed to seeing in the dark. Throwing back the dagger at the pursuer, Najin kicked off the ground.
‘Conceal your full strength.’
‘Only move quickly when necessary.’
‘That creates complacency and openings.’
Energy flowed into the boy’s body.
In an instant, Najin’s speed accelerated.
Caught off guard, the pursuer managed to deflect the dagger just as Najin closed the gap with an unexpected burst of speed. The pursuer’s reaction was too slow, and Najin didn’t miss this opportunity.
Swoosh.
The pursuer’s arm was severed. As he widened his eyes and raised his remaining arm to strike, Najin grasped the pursuer’s wrist.
When you have the upper hand, don’t let it go.
Following Ivan’s teaching, Najin pulled the pursuer’s wrist, breaking his stance, and swung his sword across the neck. It was over. Najin dragged the limp body of the pursuer in the opposite direction of where he intended to go.
A lesson learned from Offen, the mercenary.
Blood trails make good bait.
Using everything he learned, Najin moved on. There were quite a few pursuers chasing him, and heading straight to his destination felt risky. Najin intuited.
‘…If they discover my destination.’
They would swarm there.
So, for the time being, he would pretend to wander. Seemingly hiding here and there without a clear destination. To do this, he needed to eliminate one more pursuer.
Decisions had to be made quickly.
Actions, even quicker.
Walking a tightrope, Najin sprinted through the alleyways. Not a single mistake could be allowed. That was the lesson imparted by Offen and Ivan.
‘I’ve found one.’
Najin spotted a nearby pursuer.
The distance between the pursuers was consistent. Expanding and contracting at regular intervals. Noting this, Najin waited for the right moment when the distance was maximized.
The Shadows might think they were the hunters pursuing their prey, but the reality was the opposite.
The boy was hunting the pursuers.
***
“…Four of them are down?”
As the day and a half passed since the boy’s escape, Berlot frowned at the report. While only four were confirmed, the number could increase, according to the Shadows’ report, which was surprising enough for Berlo.
The pursuers of the Shadows might not be knights, but they were not to be underestimated.
At least, not by a boy from the underground city who hadn’t received proper training. Berlot was aware from the information obtained that the boy had been acting as Ivan’s executioner in the organization, but…
This was strange.
It was more than just being good at killing people. Familiarity with the terrain, ambushes, and such could perhaps allow for the killing of one or two by chance. But killing four was beyond mere luck.
Moreover, considering the locations where the bodies of the Shadows were found, it indicated that the boy had actively sought and killed them, not just defended himself while fleeing.
“Crazy bastard.”
Hunting the pursuers while being chased?
Amused by the absurdity, Berlot laughed mockingly. He had thought the boy must be talented to have drawn Excalibur, but this was beyond talent.
He was well-rounded.
The boy had exceeded the category of a mere talented novice.
Originally, the plan was to move when the distance was sufficiently closed or when the boy drew Excalibur. Now, Berlot realized he had to take action himself. Rising from his seat, Berlot asked his subordinate.
“Where’s Ivan?”
“Operating alone. Oh, and…”
The subordinate pointed to the door.
“There’s someone who wishes to see you, Sir Berlot. He introduced himself as a mercenary and said he would assist for the right price.”
“…A mercenary?”
“Yes, it seems he was the leader of a mercenary group before falling to this place.”
Mercenary, huh.
A blade easily wielded by money and power. Berlot gestured with his chin.
“Let him in.”
The door then opened.
Entering was a man reeking of alcohol. A seemingly lighthearted man bowed to Berlo.
“Mercenary, Offen at your service.”
Ready to do whatever you ask.