Editor 121

Knight and Noble (1)

While paired knights slashed at shadow spiders crawling up the castle walls, Mietz threw off his robe and stood in the middle of the training ground.

The two serpents that had smashed the watchtower’s spire and crushed the turrets were returning for destruction.

“Hup!”

Rumble!

When he drove a greatsword, too heavy for an ordinary person to even lift, into the center of the training ground, the whole fortress trembled.

Oooooooo!

At last, a storm of colorless, transparent ether began to swirl around Mietz, who was now displaying his full strength.

Kieeeet!

Sensing the massive ether, the two serpents bared greedy fangs and claws and charged at Mietz.

Piiiiit!

This silent [Circle of Assault] flipped several scales of the beasts’ black-glossed hides and sliced one’s eye and the other’s mouth.

On a night with even the moon obscured, purple-black blood stained the dirt of the training ground.

Despite the consecutive slashes, neither beast changed its course, both sticking to Mietz.

Mietz drew his sword from the training ground floor a beat later. It looked like a crisis, but in fact, it was not.

Mietz was hesitating over whether to use [Transformation]. Even on a dark night, all the knights and soldiers of the fortress were out, with many eyes watching.

[Transformation] was a unique skill shared only by swordmasters.

Even if the knights of Tristain were indifferent to the name “Pehite,” they certainly weren’t ignorant of the skills their duke possessed.

Mietz, who had hidden himself for many years, knew the moment of choice had come.

Even as he hesitated, he wielded the giant, broad-bladed sword with inhuman agility.

The sword clashed with the beast’s claws, throwing sparks. His martial prowess was formidable, but it was not enough to fend off all the attacks from eight legs and twenty-four claws of the two airborne beasts.

[Enhance] was wearing off, and the beasts’ claws left more and more wounds on Mietz’s body.

Whoosh!

At that moment, an arrow flew from somewhere and pierced the beast’s flesh. It was a magic stone silver arrow, ether conducted into it. The arrow, which pierced under the scale Mietz had flipped, was Trude’s work.

“What the—! Stop showing off by yourself, Mietz!”

The python that took the arrow shot up into the sky and flapped its wings, searching for its attacker.

A few more silver arrows streaked across the night sky.

Most bounced off the beast’s tough scales, but the last one struck inside the python’s mouth.

Kreeeeeek!

“Yeah, come on, you damned snake!”

Drooling blood and breaking the arrow shaft, the python’s black eyes glistened with murderous intent. Trude, unfazed, raised his ether even higher.

“Let’s split the loot this time! Wait for me, onyx!”

“Hey, big bro, come on!”

Little Trude covered his cousin from the left, releasing sword energy, while on the right, Ishiel revealed a bright sword energy.

Behind them, four archers took position and nocked fresh arrows.

It was the archers’ unit that had fallen back after the turret was destroyed. All were knights and could conduct ether into their silver arrows.

The teacher’s and student’s eyes met briefly. Ishiel, asking nothing, simply said what was needed.

“Master, Sir Trude and I will take the other one.”

Ishiel must have sensed the beasts’ high level with [Ether Sense], but her voice didn’t waver, and her tone was resolute.

.

.

.

On the wall, Lyssa rose and rallied the soldiers and knights.

Her bastard sword, humming, was coated in golden ether and shone like a torch. Her vast battle experience showed in every strike.

Even a brush from Lyssa’s sword would silently erase a shadow spider.

Chel, matching her, displayed a dazzling sword technique, cutting down three or four beasts at a time.

In fearlessly leading from the front line, Lyssa and Chel were a perfect match.

“You’re pretty good, miss!”

“You too, Dame Lyssa!”

Oil was poured, and flames rose.

Shouts and encouragement continued.

Though isolated, the fortress’s morale was endless.

.

.

.

From the duke’s bedroom, with one wall torn away, everything happening in the fortress could be seen at once. Amidst this total panorama, Cleio thought,

‘What do you mean, impoverished northern territory? If you give archers magic stone silver arrows, you’ll be short on money no matter how much you earn…’

It wasn’t the time for such thoughts, but thinking of something else was the only way to keep calm.

Standing by the unopening doorknob, Cleio desperately circulated his ether.

Because he had just healed Melchior, he didn’t have enough ether left to cast any spells.

In front of him, Theo Tristain—no, the magical beast Grendel wearing the body of the former Duke of Tristain—bared its teeth, its eyes and veins now pitch black.

‘That thing wasn’t even in the manuscript. Another development like this, fuck.’

It was like the Lake Nymph from the Queen’s Garden. Every hidden boss appearing only in the was a headache and disgustingly strong.

If he could have run, he would have. The problem was that the building was shaking and the doorframe was twisted, so the entrance wouldn’t open.

He’d tried kicking it several times, but it was useless. The pitch-black, ancient wooden door was as hard as steel. Cleio’s strength, without magic, was negligible.

Taetherton, who had used [Circle of Assault] several times to take down the python, surely didn’t have much ether left either.

‘Taetherton is strong, but I doubt he can handle a monster using a swordmaster’s abilities.’

Taetherton’s shoulder was soaked in blood from the python’s wound. Ignoring his own injuries, he stood before Grendel.

Behind him was Melchior.

Even if it cost him his life, the knight’s back, refusing to retreat, looked as solid as a mountain.

‘Incredible loyalty… But loyalty alone isn’t enough to beat that thing.’

The moment Grendel grabbed the ceremonial sword, it drew out ether in writhing waves, crouching to gauge its opponent’s strength and standing off with Taetherton.

‘Ether… I need to gather even a little more ether.’

At last, as Grendel sized up Taetherton’s skill, its thin lips split and stretched sideways. Grendel, revealing its pitch-black mouth, was smiling.

Cleio desperately cast a defensive spell. The ether shortage made his stomach churn.

Grendel split into six clones and charged. They smashed walls and floors, slashing with sword energy.

Taetherton, undaunted, used his long limbs and strong body to cut down the gaunt clones, but fighting more than two was too much.

Clang! Clang!

Four clones attacked Taetherton, and only two came for Cleio, but even that was hard to withstand.

Just blocking a few attacks from an 8th-level magical beast felt like getting hit by a hammer. Cleio couldn’t even stop the nosebleed that burst forth as he gripped his wand tight.

Unintentionally, Melchior was also within Cleio’s defensive spell range.

Not all of him—his left arm and leg were just outside the circle, and Grendel’s black sword energy ripped through his flesh.

For most people, that would have been enough to knock them out, but Melchior only flinched slightly and slowly gathered himself, rising from the floor.

He simply stood tall, calmly watching Grendel, who was about to stab his sword into Taetherton’s neck.

Suddenly, ‘Promise’ activated.

A message so long it couldn’t be read in one glance lit up the dark night.

[Unique Skill: ‘Insight Structure Time (構造視)’

—Eyes that see the essence of the target.

—The user can discern the true intentions of any skill target faced. Additional features allow viewing of power, condition, and past.

—The user can exercise direct physical force on the target’s □□…

User: Melchior Riognan

Duration: ∞

Additional function uses available:

Additional function 「Obedience」 n times

Additional function 「High‰? ‡…

*The rest cannot be viewed due to insufficient narrative intervention.]

Perhaps because narrative intervention exceeded 30 percent, the message was far more detailed than before. Cleio clicked his tongue.

‘It’s already an OP skill, and it has extra functions…!’

All of Grendel’s clones had turned to ash.

Under Melchior’s gaze, Grendel, now alone, stood frozen, holding the ceremonial sword aloft, even the guard having flown off.

That skill—Melchior’s way of seeing—possessed power and authority. It was not abstract, but concrete.

Taetherton watched that terrifying being with a strange passion.

Even then, the man’s wounds and bleeding—proof of his humanity—fueled the knight’s rage. Spitting blood as ether depletion set in, Taetherton, without hesitation, drove his sword into the heart of the body that had once been his father.

Crack.

Even as ribs shattered under the merciless sword, Grendel, subdued by Melchior, couldn’t move, only oozing black pus from its eyes.

Cleio, breathing short with tension, suddenly noticed something strange.

‘Why doesn’t Grendel have a concentrated ether core?’

All magical beasts have a magic stone at their core.

For Barg, it was the eyes of both heads; for Python, the right heart; even the Lake Nymph’s ether focal point was under the water.

‘Why can’t I sense a core in this thing?!’

Usually, the heart or eyes are the beast’s core. Taetherton must have fought on that principle.

As Taetherton’s sword pierced through Grendel’s [Enhance] and the blue-gold sword energy shot out the back, a boy’s voice came through the thick wall.

“Ray! You’re in there, right?”

“Arthur….”

Did he hear that weak reply?

The warped bedroom door shattered explosively.

Kweeeeeek!

At the same moment, Taetherton slashed Grendel diagonally. The upper chest and head with the left arm rolled to the floor, and the waist with the right arm and legs flopped in the opposite direction. It was the result of terrifying force and sword energy combined.

As the body was cut in two and Melchior’s restriction was lifted, the two halves of the beast’s body began to writhe madly.

Arthur, who burst into the duke’s bedroom, immediately found Cleio and shielded him from the twitching beast’s corpse.

“Are you okay, Ray? Are you hurt anywhere?”

It was the youngest prince himself who looked a mess.

His hair was stained with someone’s blood, his coat discarded somewhere, sleeves torn, soaked through with sweat, wearing only a shirt.

With worry and agitation swirling in his almost greenish eyes, Cleio couldn’t answer him.

Kreeeeeeet!

He saw it over Arthur’s shoulder.

From the halved Grendel’s body, sticky mercury-like ether oozed, and in an instant, new limbs and a neck sprouted.

It wasn’t even transformation.

There were now simply two Grendels.

‘…Grendel’s magic stone is mercury!’

Cleio couldn’t even get the words out.

“Be…hind you…!”

He couldn’t get his senses together.

Melchior used his skill again. The ‘Promise’ messages filled his vision.

For only a few seconds, the two Grendels—now crawling on all fours without swords—opened their torn mouths, then froze.

The delayed ‘Promise’ message was all warnings.

Melchior’s unique skill had gone into overload.

On the crown prince’s white cheek, tears tinged with blood ran crimson. It was an ominous sight, like a statue of the Virgin weeping blood.