Chapter 36: The Land of Chivalry (3)

Although Sir Duchamp of Tulip was not one of the twelve knights of Charlemagne, he was not a man of such low standing that he would be involved in such a trivial and ridiculous jester’s play.

At the very least, he knew the reality of war.

It was a battlefield where no one spared you just because you were a noble, and where no one showed petty mercy or captured you for ransom. It was, quite literally, a place where you killed before you were killed.

And as for the young knight before him—no, he wasn’t even sure if he should call him a knight. However, one thing was certain.

That boy was also an inhabitant of that same world.

Sien silently adjusted his posture.

The Lily Crest Stance — .

It was not the clumsy, amateurish posture shown by the novices in the earlier tournament. It was a lethal swordsmanship, thoroughly polished for the sole purpose of slaughter.

A white, brilliant, and pure blade-chill, like a lily, dwelled along the edge of his sword.

Similarly, the knight’s sword in Sien’s hand also carried the chill of aura.

It was a black and dark chill, at a level that could not even be compared to the moderate display he had shown until now.

“Pose of the Wraith.”

There were many reasons to speak the name of a stance aloud.

It could be for the purpose of self-suggestion to focus one’s mind, or it could be to intimidate the opponent by letting them hear the name of a powerful technique.

And among those, a very few select sword styles held enough meaning just by the fact that the practitioner was using them.

“This…”

Just like now.

Under the warm, shining spring stars, a freezing chill gripped Sir Duchamp’s neck. Goosebumps ran down his spine.

“The, the assassin of the Nightwalker Family…”

The messenger of the Republic.

“Those without a Path are often the ones who discuss the Path the most,” Sien continued in a cold voice.

“Because they lack courage, they call for bravery; because they crave desire, they praise abstinence; and because they are cowards, they shout for fairness. Just as they discuss mercy because they do not respect the weak. Isn’t it funny?”

That was exactly what chivalry was. It was just as he said.

Right now, Sir Duchamp had neither the courage nor the bravery to dare cross swords with an assassin of the Nightwalker Family.

No matter how much he struggled, he would never be able to defeat the monster before him.

“P-Please, have mercy…”

“Didn’t the jesters you killed to uphold the royal dignity say the same thing?”

But he had not spared them. He had not been merciful.

“T-That was as a knight, strictly following the orders of my lord—”

“Do not obey unfair and unjust orders,” Sien replied.

*Clang!*

The swords clashed. However, nothing resonated from the meeting blades. It was an empty ring, as if cutting through water.

Sir Duchamp’s teeth chattered from the fear of death. The blood in his entire body froze cold.

Sir Duchamp of Tulip—as his name suggested, his armor was dyed red with the blood of knights.

But blood was, in the end, something shed by the living.

The entity before him was not that.

“!”

Sien no longer retained a human form.

There was only a black and dark shadow.

**[Wraith’s Form]**

The ‘Wraith,’ draped in pitch-black aura, took a quiet step.

It was human will that transcended flesh, blood, and even bone — paradoxically transcending the very shackles of humanity.

At that moment, the form of the wraith collapsed on the spot.

**[Do not turn your back on the enemy.]**

“?!”

The whisper of the wraith came from behind him. It was as if what Duchamp had been looking at until a moment ago was nothing more than the moon reflected in the water.

The ‘real moon’ had already taken its position behind Sir Duchamp.

Like someone looking down at the moon reflected in a lake, Sien looked down from the night sky.

“Falling Moon.”

A black and dark chill plummeted down.

A strike to the back. It was a shameful and dishonorable act that could not be tolerated as a knight. However, Sien did not care.

An assassin had no reason to know the way of the knight.

*Slash!*

The flower of the tulip scattered in red.

***

“The, the assassin of the Nightwalker Family…!”

The face of Charles IV, the foolish old king nicknamed the Bald King, turned pale.

“A-Are you here for me? Have you come to take my head?!”

“Please calm yourself, Your Majesty.”

However, Roland, the leader of the twelve knights who stood by his side, did not panic.

“He is merely a messenger who has come to deliver a warning.”

“A-A warning! What on earth…”

“Have you forgotten the debt contract with the Republic?”

He remembered mid-sentence. He had lied about needing war funds to build a new palace, borrowed a massive amount of debt from the Republic’s bank, and had been delaying payment day after day. He had even humiliated and kicked out the messenger from the Republic of Veneto who had come to demand payment.

“King Charles.”

“H-Eek!”

Before he knew it, Sien was there, without a trace of presence.

He was very close, only a few feet away from the King.

*Shring.*

The twelve knights protecting the King simultaneously placed their hands on their waists. However, none of them drew their swords.

“W-What are you doing, Sir Roland! Draw your sword at once!”

“The opponent has sheathed his sword.”

“Well, as you can see.”

Sien shrugged at Roland’s answer.

“I just came here to have a conversation.”

“D-Do you think I would believe such nonsense! What are you doing, Sir Roland! Why aren’t you drawing your sword and cutting him down this instant!”

“It is contrary to chivalry to use force against an enemy who is unarmed and willing to talk.”

“C-Chivalry, my foot! Isn’t he an assassin of the Nightwalker Family! We don’t know what he’ll do, so prepare for battle immediately!”

“Please leave this to me, Your Majesty.”

Ignoring the panicked Charles IV, Roland took a bold step forward. He faced the young assassin of the Nightwalker Family before him.

‘Regardless, he is no ordinary fellow.’

There was not a single trace of carelessness on his face as he faced Sien.

‘It wasn’t a false rumor that he thoroughly crushed and broke the sword of the third son of the Grandel family.’

He knew well the reputation of Oscar, who was known as the greatest swordsmanship genius on the continent. Seeing what he had shown at such a young age and his potential, he even had an ominous certainty that the boy would become a knight greater than himself once he grew up.

So, when he heard that the genius’s sword had suddenly been broken one day—and even worse, that he was broken to the point where he could not recover—he couldn’t help but doubt his own ears.

But now, he could understand.

‘So this boy was the monster of the Nightwalker Family.’

Roland de Durandal.

He was one of the strongest men on the continent, standing shoulder to shoulder with ‘Sword Demon’ Oswald Grandel of the Empire, ‘Mother of Assassins’ Laila Nightwalker of the Republic, and ‘King of the Round Table’ Arthur Pendragon of the Seven Kingdoms.

The ‘Sword Saint’ Roland.

He was a knight who would eventually grow old and fall at the hands of Sien Nightwalker in the future.

However, he was not yet old.

“Did you say those without a Path talk about the Path?”

“That is correct.”

“Ah, indeed. That must be why the Republic and your family call for truth and trust so much.”

“Just as a thirsty man digs a well, it’s to hide the ugly reality made of fraud and lies. Isn’t that right?”

“Hmm, unfortunately…”

Sien replied, unbothered by his provocation.

“Truth is not a matter of whether you believe it or not, Sir Roland.”

“The rudeness you have committed here is an irreversible diplomatic discourtesy. Even if it leads to war, there would be nothing to say.”

“Discourtesy? What do you mean?”

“Are you really asking because you don’t know?”

“As a representative of the Star and Dagger, I have merely come to fulfill the ‘contract’ made with this country.”

Sien tilted his head leisurely.

“And while I was at it, I just happened to get interested in the swords of this country, known as the Land of Chivalry, and participated in the tournament.”

All Sien had done was win the tournament and defeat the Royal Champion. Even the Royal Champion had killed countless challengers until now. It was the same for both sides.

“Is there any other potential problem with this act? Was it such a discourtesy that it might lead to war, just because I used the name of a viscount’s family to participate in the match?”

“You cunning bastards.”

In the end, there was no justification to take issue with Sien’s actions themselves.

That was exactly the way of the Nightwalker Family.

This world was built on justification. Rather, it was the ruler of this country, the Bald King Charles IV, who had given the opponent an opening in terms of that justification.

“Just pay back the money you borrowed, Your Majesty,” Sien said.

A brief silence fell.

In front of the twelve silent knights and vassals, there was only one thing the Bald King Charles IV could say.

***

“You performed the mission quite spectacularly.”

That night, at Isabelle Nightwalker’s mansion.

It was logically a foolish thing to head straight to Isabelle’s mansion after revealing himself as a member of the Nightwalker Family in front of everyone. However, neither of them cared.

The fact that this was a mansion of the Nightwalker Family was not exactly a secret that needed to be hidden in the first place.

Even if average nobles or socialites didn’t know, the Charlemagne Kingdom was not so incompetent that they wouldn’t even realize a member of the Nightwalker Family had snuck into their country. Of course, that was a completely different story from the Bald King Charles IV.

“That’s just our family’s way.”

“Laila is something else, really. To demand such an unreasonable mission from her son, no matter what.”

Isabelle sipped her wine with a bitter smile.

“It was something I could easily handle.”

“Still, it was dangerous,” Isabelle said.

“The Twelve Knights of Charlemagne are strong. If even one of them had harbored murderous intent toward you, you would never have survived.”

“But they didn’t,” Sien replied.

“That’s just the kind of people knights are.”

“True, there are indeed many fools in this country whose heads are filled with chivalry and flower gardens.”

Isabelle didn’t particularly deny it and shrugged her shoulders.

“But not everyone in this country is such a fool.”

“I know,” Sien replied. After all, this country was one of the strongest on the continent, and its status had not been gained for no reason.

“That’s why I was actually curious.”

“About what?”

“Who the real ‘ruler’ is, the one who pulled this country—which is filled with nothing but chivalry and flower gardens—up to its current position.”

“Oh my, well now.”

Isabelle burst into a pleasant laugh.

“You expected things to turn out like this from the beginning.”

“What do you mean?”

“—That she would find interest in you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, fine. Let’s pretend you didn’t know.”

Sien feigned ignorance, and Isabelle did not press further, simply shrugging.

“There is someone who wishes to see you in private.”

After speaking, Isabelle rose from her seat in the drawing room.

“My role ends here, Sien.”

At the same time, she continued while bowing politely.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting, Princess.”

‘Princess.’ With that name, the door to the drawing room opened. A female silhouette revealed itself. She was accompanied by a knight, one of the Twelve Knights of Charlemagne.

A female knight as pale and white as a corpse and a noble lady with golden hair were there.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sien Nightwalker.”

“I greet Her Imperial Highness, the First Princess of the Charlemagne Kingdom, Roselia Charles.”

Sien also bowed his head politely without panicking. Isabelle had already withdrawn, leaving Sien, the Princess, and the female knight protecting her in the drawing room.

“I have heard many stories about you, Lord Sien.”

“Many things have happened, after all.”

“So, what are your impressions after looking around our country?”

Princess Roselia asked Sien, who was showing feigned humility.

“It is a fertile land bathed in soft spring stars, and it was the very essence of a noble and upright land of chivalry,” Sien replied, and a sound of laughter echoed.

“Do you really think so?”

It was Roselia’s cold sneer.

“Didn’t you think it was a country of idiots, whose heads are filled with nothing but chivalry and flower gardens?”