Chapter 25: It’s Easier to Die Fighting Than to Yield the Path Part 3

Released:

“Uh… well.”

The commander thought to himself after receiving praise that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Should I be honest about this?

To be frank, you looked so much like a creature of the Abyss that I instinctively ordered the attack as soon as I saw you. Still, we managed to take down some wyverns, so I suppose all’s well that ends well.

…It didn’t seem like the best way to welcome someone.

As a noble of the empire, the commander had also learned some very clever rhetoric that could be used in such delicate situations.

The problem was, it had been so long since he’d left the imperial center that most of those skills had rusted away.

As long as it’s not a lie…

“The soldiers who executed the plan are far more impressive than I am, wouldn’t you agree? While I did plan the volley, the results exceeded my expectations entirely thanks to their skill.”

Yes, perfect. The commander silently congratulated himself on his still-sharp rhetorical abilities.

It was true that he had planned the volley, and it was also true that the soldiers’ skill had achieved results beyond what he anticipated. It was a masterful display of Imperial-style evasion. He skillfully dodged any hint of who the original target might have been.

Behind him, the soldiers standing at attention watched their commander with subtly awkward expressions. But since he had been the planner, they were, by extension, the executors. In the end, they all came to a silent agreement to say nothing.

“Indeed. The reputation of the border guard’s elite force is well deserved.”

Thankfully, he seemed to move past the vague mysteries of the situation and settled for a polite, formal acknowledgment. The commander nearly sighed in relief.

He was glad this man wasn’t some political knight sent from the Empire. As to be expected from a Paladin of the Holy Kingdom, he seemed to prefer practical and straightforward conversations over anything politically charged.

If he were one of those rigid political knights, they’d already be demanding accountability for friendly fire, nitpicking every detail, and accusing the guards of something ridiculous like violating military discipline just for the sake of it.

After some light conversation, the commander decided to ask something he had been genuinely curious about.

“…Might I ask which order you hail from?”

Good heavens. What lunatic order could have designed armor like that?

Even though this was a border region, it was fortunate that the neighboring countries were allies, and the Holy Kingdom was right next door.

If someone had appeared wearing such armor on the front lines against the Abyss, they might have been executed on sight before they even had a chance to explain themselves.

Wait… isn’t that basically what we just did?

“Oh. My order, you say.”

Kriel’s words trailed off. It was a tricky thing to explain. He quickly calculated the situation in his head.

Did he do something unbecoming of a knight?

It wasn’t the case. Didn’t he rise up resolutely to protect the city under attack by Abyss creature? If anything, it would have decreased his Nobility if he had turned away and ignored it instead.

Was this something that could disgrace the Eve Kaha Church?

Sometimes, the pursuit of a knight’s honor conflicted with the choices made for the benefit of the group. For example, if a corrupt official resided in a village within the Empire, an honorable knight would be obligated to expose the corruption and take appropriate action, whether by physically punishing the official or reporting the matter to the higher authorities of the Empire.

However, if this were done under the identity of a Champion of the Eve Kaha Order, some nameless noble in the Empire’s society, likely connected to that corrupt official, would undoubtedly bear a grudge against the Order. In such situations, Kriel often relied on anonymity.

Stories such as “An Unknown Knight Exposes the Atrocities of a Local Noble” would circulate in the local community for a time before fading away. Kriel was quite skilled at crafting such narratives.

…My thoughts wandered off.

Was he starting to pick up habits from spending time with his sword spirits who seemed to talk based on the flow of consciousness these days? Kriel brought his focus back to the present situation.

Defeating Abyss wyverns didn’t seem like something that could bring harm to any particular group. The spawns of the Abyss might gnash their teeth in frustration, but those creatures naturally despised people who did good anyway.

Originally, before addressing this question, he should have assessed whether revealing his identity might cause trouble for the Western Army. But for now, Kriel had no intention of worrying about the military.

Who cared? After all, he was a civilian.

Well, technically, a former civilian, but Kriel was generous enough to overlook such trivial distinctions.

That’s why his introduction went as follows:

“I am Kriel, a Champion of Eve Kaha. I have not sworn allegiance to the Goddess of Ravens, but I have received her blessings.”

Basically, this meant that he wasn’t a formal follower of Eve Kaha, but he was skilled with a sword and had connections within the Order, who had vouched for him.

The commander of the border garrison nodded his head.

Judging by Kriel’s ability to leap up the city walls and shoot down the alpha wyvern mid-air, any Order would have wanted to secure him as a Champion.

Some of the soldiers behind him seemed to grow noisy at the mention of his name. The commander’s lips curved upward slightly. Perhaps this knight was more famous than he had initially thought.

“First, I would like you to explain the situation. I had business in the Empire, but when I arrived at the gateway city, I found it surrounded by wyverns.”

“Well, you see…”

***

Kriel followed the commander into another room. It lacked the flashy style typical of the Empire, but it exuded the orderly aesthetic of a disciplined military barracks.

Hah. I feel the aura of experience in this place…

To Kriel, who had all but fled the Western Army, the room felt somewhat unpleasant, but he didn’t let it show. That would have been unbefitting of a knight.

“The incident began when the city’s court mage received an urgent message. We were told that there was trouble within his family, and he had to leave his post.”

“The court mage, huh.”

He was someone Kriel was familiar with. He was the individual in charge of the city’s magical defense system. In terms of rank, he was equivalent to the chief strategist for magical tactics if he had been serving in the military.

The court mage of the Western Army had treated Kriel as little more than a button to press for results.

Though he wasn’t a bad person at heart, after having repeated conversations that went along the lines of, “Could you go and fight here?” “What?” “I’m asking you to fight,” it was only natural to start seeing the man as someone who simply threw work bombs at others.

“Where is the deputy court mage?”

The position of court mage wasn’t something that an ordinary battle mage could handle. It required not only exceptional magical power but also a sound tactical mind and quick adaptability. Court mages were essential components of the city’s operations.

However, at the end of the day, they were still human, and there were times when they inevitably had to vacate their posts, just as was the case now. Deputies were typically appointed to prepare for such situations, even if they couldn’t fully replace the court mage. Deputies would often handle tasks like mana supply to the city’s magical systems or help with magical strategy and tactics.

But the commander shook his head.

“While this is officially a border city, who would block the entry of priests? No sane spawn of the Abyss would dare recklessly invade a meeting point with the Holy Kingdom. We have no need to worry about human invaders or abyss intruders here, so we didn’t bother to appoint a deputy court mage.”

Then he lowered his voice and added,

“Most importantly, this city has no money. The priests don’t engage in much trade, after all.”

“Hah… But even so, this is a border region. Are you telling me you’ve ignored operational protocols?”

The commander gave a bitter smile.

“For hundreds of years, there hasn’t been a single conflict here. That complacency is exactly why the city ended up being blockaded by wyverns.”

***

The commander warned Kriel that this would be a somewhat lengthy explanation before leading him to the garrison’s reception room. After the commander and Kriel disappeared, the soldiers turned their attention to hushed conversations.

“Kriel? Is it that Kriel?”

“What? Is he a famous knight or something?”

Indeed, he was too strong to remain anonymous. If he had been an imperial knight, he would have already received a title and a fief and lived leisurely in a secluded manor.

“I once heard about him from an acquaintance in the Western Army. They said he’s a noble knight who takes orders from no one but the commander.”

The soldier began recounting the evaluation of Kriel that his acquaintance had shared. The Western Army Commander’s secret sword who was unknown to the outside world, yet the sharpest blade among them.

Within the Western Army, he was a direct subordinate of the commander, holding a position second only to him. But what reason could such a man have to appear here as a Paladin under a Church?

It was truly a puzzling matter. Did this mean that the Western Army had a situation dire enough to dispatch their greatest knight? And at the same time, if he had been granted the position of “Paladin” by the Church…

“Is he chasing the Abyss or something?”

If it was indeed such an urgent matter, the Abyss’ troubles were the only plausible explanation. There were three other disasters comparable to the Abyss, and one of them was the ancient dwarven civilization in the West. But the frontlines had been in a stable state for years.

Judging by his “Paladin” title, it was clear he was receiving support from the Church, which made it even more likely that his target was someone connected to the Abyss.

As the soldiers continued speculating about why the hidden master of the West had suddenly decided to travel east to the Empire, one of them quietly slipped away. He headed for the shaded area beneath the city walls.

Beneath that shadowy spot was a small hole. It was far too tiny for anyone, even a child, to pass through.

The soldier tossed something resembling a black pebble into the hole. Shortly after, a snake emerged, raising its head and opening its mouth wide.

He scribbled something hastily onto a small scrap of paper, rolled it up, and slipped it into the snake’s throat. After swallowing the note, the snake vanished back into the dark hole.

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