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Chapter 09
A military force without a commander is like a ship without a captain.
That’s how dangerous it is.
“And yet, after four days of insane marching, this is what we get.”
The Verwen Knights, exhausted from the forced march, were blocked—not by the enemy, but by the Hessian Count’s own forces.
“Unbelievable. We came all this way to help, and this is what happens?”
To prevent unsettling the local populace, the Verwen Knights, including myself, were still cloaked in robes.
A group of robed knights turned their horses at the city wall.
“Did they say anything?”
“Well…”
One of the returning knights hesitated, then spoke.
“They’re demanding a toll.”
“Did they even recognize you as knights?”
“…Yes.”
“And that we came to assist them?”
“…Yes.”
Ha. Were they insane?
I wanted to just leave it be and turn back, but thinking of the innocent townsfolk, I rode closer to the walls.
“I told you before! You can’t pass without paying!”
“How much?”
“One thousand gallons!”
A thousand gallons? That’s enough to sustain an average household for a year!
“I could just pay and move on…”
Normally, this would just mean “turn back.”
“Who made this law?”
“Our Count!”
“The Hessian Count?”
At my words, the soldier wielding the spear flailed it.
“This place is rotten to the core.”
Just by the way he held it, he wasn’t a knight—just a soldier in knight’s armor.
“Count? Do you want to die? Is the Count your friend?”
“Not exactly…”
In a flash, the sword hidden under my robe pressed against the soldier’s neck.
I didn’t want to be violent, but…
“It’s the most effective.”
There was no time to explain everything.
“Think of him as your superior.”
“What?”
“This is Duke Verwen himself.”
The knight beside me subtly gestured.
“Preposterous!”
Even under the threat of a sword, he looked unconvinced. I channeled a faint aura from the blade—
A swordmaster’s mark.
Seeing the light wrapped around the blade, the soldier dropped to his knees.
“I- I apologize! There are many impostors claiming to be knights these days… I was only following my Count’s orders—”
“Yes. Enough talk. Open the gate.”
Rotten above, rotten below.
Tired of explaining, I just waved my hand.
A soldier, disciplined but clearly weary, opened the gate.
“They sold the city gate…?”
I was speechless.
The gate, which normally required four men to open, swung wide under the strength of a single soldier.
It was thin, a mere imitation.
“The gate…”
The Verwen Knights exchanged glances as they assessed the situation.
I lowered my voice.
Five years of acting practice weren’t wasted.
“This is a wartime situation. Do you know what’s important?”
My stern voice carried the nuance that this issue could be dealt with after the war.
“Yes, sir.”
The knights accepted it.
Even as we moved through the Count’s lands, I sensed something was off.
The closer we got to the border with Bahart, the more refugees we saw.
I felt pity for the locals, but…
“We’re losing ground.”
Why do bad premonitions always come true?
As soon as we reached the border walls:
“Your Grace, you’re here!”
Knights who had left Verwen ahead of us reported the situation.
“…So many wounded?”
Seeing the injured and medics moving about, I gripped my sword tighter.
The battlefield was thick with the air of defeat.
“What happened?”
“The Hessian Count mobilized his townsfolk for war.”
“Are those outside not regular troops?”
“His army was disbanded due to cost.”
Ha. Insane.
“So the forces able to fight right now are…”
“Just us.”
Then the Verwen Knights outside must be the ones struggling.
“This isn’t support—it’s a hard carry!”
I couldn’t help but think back to college group projects.
“Open the gate.”
Approaching the gate in my black robe, the Hessian soldiers panicked, unsure what to do.
“Quickly.”
I lowered my voice and raised my sword—like a master of martial aura.
Reason: the same as before. Time was critical!
“Yes, sir!”
Seeing the gate swing open so swiftly, I thought briefly:
So this is why masters of martial arts live the way they do.
It’s convenient.
Screeech—
Still, the border gate required four men to operate the pulley system.
Through the opening came the smell of the battlefield—smoke, blood, and sweat.
I couldn’t get used to it.
Amid the clamor of soldiers struggling with the gate, my black steed pawed the ground excitedly.
As the drawbridge descended, I calmed the horse.
“Not fully down yet…”
When the drawbridge was halfway lowered, I spurred my horse forward.
The muscular black steed climbed the slope and picked up speed, charging out.
Clack.
It landed lightly.
At the same time, my robe fluttered in the wind, revealing my armor.
“Is this really the dramatic entrance I need?”
Even I felt a little embarrassed.
“Well, five years of obsessive training in flamboyant entrances… five years.”
Rosaline had trained me not just in facial expressions but in every detail of movement.
Every action was meant to look elegant.
“Ah… so embarrassing.”
I drew my sword from its sheath, still blushing inside.
“Anyway, Shavian isn’t watching. Why do this? Why!”
I silently shouted, yet I rode out elegantly.
What Lewin didn’t know was that Shavian had been watching every move closely.
Just before spotting Lewin crossing the drawbridge,
Shavian gazed blankly down into the gorge.
Red from crying, wrists tied with silk.
It looked like an escape, and indeed it was.
“What a hassle… might as well take him along.”
“Your Grace!”
“It’s all the same whether as a prisoner, on the battlefield or in the palace.”
Wrapped in cloth in the dead of night, Shavian was loaded onto a carriage.
Escaping the poorly guarded barracks, he reached a dead-end cliff, where a battle raged below.
Then—
The drawbridge opened, and a figure on a gleaming black steed sprang forth.
“It’s Duke Verwen!”
The black horse landed gracefully.
The flowing black robe revealed majestic, solemn black armor.
“The Black Knight.”
The Black Knight, the reaper of the battlefield.
The Duke of Verwen cut through the battlefield.
“Wow.”
The moment the Duke appeared, the tide of battle shifted.
Leading the faltering Haillen troops, he radiated aura from his sword.
A single sweep of silver aura cut through the arrows flying toward Haillen soldiers, raining them down harmlessly.
“…Incredible.”
The silvery aura shimmered with moonlight-like nobility, mesmerizing all around him.
Shavian wiped his eyes from under his blindfold, trying to capture the sight.
In Shavian’s crystal-clear eyes, only admiration appeared.
Meanwhile, Kellian lay in the shade near the battlefield.
He lazily stroked the black panther resting its head on his lap.
The panther purred contentedly.
“Your Grace, you must return to Hwangdo now.”
Ignoring his troublesome subordinate, Kellian closed his eyes.
A crimson cloak lay carelessly over his slightly tanned skin.
Even in such disheveled attire, he exuded the aura of a war god.
“Aren’t you curious?”
“About what?”
“The face of the mad Haillen Emperor.”
Kellian’s lips curved into a thin line.
“Your Grace… those two are just long-time friends…”
“Friends, huh.”
Kellian narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.
“Are you causing chaos in another country just for a friend?”
Through his open crimson cloak, his toned abs shifted with his words.
“…Truly a madman.”
Just then, a subordinate spoke again.
“Your Grace!”
A knight halted abruptly, almost falling from his horse, and knelt on one knee.
“Duke Verwen has arrived! The battle is underway, and the 2nd Prince’s forces are being pushed back!”
“Is that so?”
Kellian rose, cloak billowing, and mounted his horse.
“Your Grace! You can’t go!”
The subordinate beside Kellian mounted his own horse to follow.
“You must immediately summon your knights to the 2nd Prince’s camp. The 2nd Prince must not know you are here!”
He commanded his messenger to act and galloped after the disappearing Kellian.
Kellian shouldn’t even have been here. This was supposed to be a war designed for the 2nd Prince to lose!
“What is he doing here?”
“Came to support.”
“With that look?”
They finally met.
The 2nd Prince, facing Kellian, lowered his head.
No one could trust Kellian’s audacious words.
“Just keep running.”
The 2nd Prince couldn’t hold his ground.
He had been abandoning his army and fleeing.
Even before he could speak, Kellian was already charging onto the battlefield.
“That must be Duke Verwen.”
Even ten thousand could not stop a single swordmaster—an adage proven true, as the battlefield fell under the control of one man.
The Duke pinpointed knights and cut them down. As they fell, the command structure collapsed, leaving the soldiers in chaos.
“Haha. So that’s why.”
Kellian watched as the Duke cut only the knights’ ligaments.
“Not severing limbs, just ligaments.”
Kellian knew how tedious that was.
The Duke of Verwen’s brutal reputation was mostly whispered among nobles and knights.
“They say he maims enemy leaders instead of slaughtering them outright.”
Presumably to display his fearsome name.
A swordmaster could have obliterated them with aura, but he deliberately injured only ligaments, making the sword unusable.
“I thought he was ruthless, but…”
Then the Duke scanned the battlefield.
His intent became obvious.
He aimed to capture the 2nd Prince alive, ending the battle with minimal casualties.
“Perhaps he’s a gentle lamb after all.”
Kellian’s curiosity about the face beneath that helmet surged.
What face could be hidden there?
“Whoever removes his helmet shall be rewarded.”
Kellian smiled faintly at his words.
