Ch.139The Lost One (6)

A truly beautiful duel leaves no regrets.

A duel that doesn’t rely on variables, doesn’t depend on luck, and proceeds without any secondary factors intervening. A sacred duel where only skill and technique determine victory or defeat. Such duels, desired by countless knights, are beautiful even in their conclusion.

The loser willingly acknowledges defeat.

The victor rightfully savors the sweetness of victory.

There is no room for doubt in the outcome of a duel. No place for excuses to slip in, no space for regret to rear its head. The Helm Knight smiled pleasantly at that clean aftertaste. His laughter lingered long.

Like rain falling on drought-parched land, like soothing a body tired from marching with cool wine, the Helm Knight felt as if a long-standing thirst was being quenched.

“It’s been a while since I felt this intoxicated. Truly a good fight. You fought quite well for someone so young.”

“I should be saying that. That technique, what was it exactly? The moment I blocked it, my body was lifted into the air.”

“Ah, that? It’s the pride of the Golden Horn Knights. A technique that embodies the principle that the simplest, most honest, and most upright is the strongest.”

“I see. Stay true to the basics?”

“You catch on quick. That’s exactly it.”

The hostile atmosphere from earlier was completely gone. The two crawled back to the campfire and chatted away. While walking to the fire, Najin limped, and the Helm Knight’s body made creaking sounds, but these were trivial matters.

The surrounding rocks had all collapsed, the ground was full of gouges and scratches, Najin’s arm had a splint attached, and the Helm Knight’s armor had gained more scratches, but… these too were trivial matters.

“How old are you? I’d guess you’re not even 30… it’s remarkable to reach such a level at that age. And it’s not just your level that’s high. The perfection of your technique is something that would normally take decades of wielding a sword. Has my judgment been wrong?”

He tilted his head with a “hmm.”

“How old are you? No matter how I look at it, you have the skill of a swordsman well over 50.”

“Eighteen.”

“I see. Eighteen. Eight…teen?”

The Helm Knight tilted his head a bit more. His helmet made a rattling sound.

“That joke goes too far. I don’t appreciate lies.”

Najin rummaged through his belongings. Among the items stored in his magically expanded pouch was a certificate personally awarded to him by the Emperor. A certificate proving Najin’s identity. Najin showed it to the Helm Knight.

Taking the certificate, the Helm Knight let out an “oh my” in astonishment. Though hidden by his helmet, Najin could feel the question “Is he insane?” in the Helm Knight’s gaze. It was a look Najin had received most often.

“You’re not in your right mind.”

“I hear that often.”

“It’s amazing enough to reach such a level at that age, but even more surprising that you’ve already set foot on the Outer Continent. Isn’t it too early?”

He said.

“This is a place where those who have begun to wear out, who can no longer live on the continent, are pushed out to. It’s a place for those who have lived close to 100 years, who have lived as much as they could. It’s not a place for a young one like you.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Then why? Your skills are impressive, but isn’t it too early? You could have trained more on the continent before coming. Even I am stronger than you. This land is full of those stronger than you, who will target you.”

“I’m aware of that too.”

Because Merlin had told him.

In fact, Merlin had given similar advice. That it wouldn’t be bad to gain more experience on the continent first. Not just Merlin, but many others had advised Najin.

Isn’t it too early? Aren’t you being too hasty? Wouldn’t it be better to gain more experience…

But Najin had not yielded his stubbornness.

“Why, if you know?”

“Because this is the fastest way.”

This was the fastest path.

And it was the right path.

It was also the path that King Arthur had walked.

“I need to become stronger than I am now. More quickly. I don’t have the luxury of time until I reach a certain level.”

“How far?”

“At minimum, until I become a Sword Master.”

“Huh. Do you take the realm of transcendence lightly?”

“I’m not taking it lightly. It’s because I know how difficult it is, how high it is, that I’ve come to this land, haven’t I?”

Najin looked up at the sky.

There were twinkling stars. They floated much higher than Najin, and they were stars that would immediately intervene if Najin were to draw Excalibur.

Even the Stars of the Round Table would intervene immediately here, but that wouldn’t change anything. The stars would intervene, a torrent would surge, and Najin would be swept away in that torrent.

‘And if the Stars of the Round Table were to intervene…’

Merlin had said that the intervention of the Round Table should be kept as a ‘last move.’ Najin saw the stars twinkling far away at the edge of the Outer Continent. They were Merlin’s star and the Stars of the Round Table.

Najin knew what those stars’ roles were. Merlin had told him. Knowing their role, the intervention of the Round Table truly had to be kept as a last resort.

That was how it was.

Though he had grown stronger, though everyone praised Najin’s level, Najin still could not stand independently. And Najin had a goal that could only be achieved through independence.

“Is there a reason for such urgency?”

“Yes, there is.”

“May I ask?”

“You are the victor, aren’t you? The loser has an obligation to answer the victor’s questions.”

Crack, crackle…

Sparks flew up from the campfire.

“I have two masters.”

Looking at the sparks, Najin spoke.

“One taught me the sword. The basics of wielding a sword, how to flee, how to pursue, and the fundamental knowledge of being a mercenary.”

Ofen, the mercenary from the underground city.

“And the other taught me how to live. Not just how to live, but what to pursue while living.”

“And what is that?”

“Honor and pride. And stars.”

Ivan, the knight from the underground city.

“What it means to be a knight. What pride is. That sometimes there are values more important than life itself—that’s what he taught me.”

“Sounds like a good master.”

“Yes, he was an excellent master.”

Najin’s eyes lowered.

In those lowered eyes, flames flickered.

“I must avenge both of them.”

“…”

“I must take revenge on those who made them that way, those who trampled them, those who tried to trample me. With my own strength, borrowing power from no one.”

Only then would it have meaning.

Ivan had said it. That he would bet his life on Najin’s star. That he would bet his honor on Najin’s life. The moment Najin brought down the Order, it would be proven that Ivan was right. That was something no one else could do for him. It was something only Najin could do.

Najin had always carried that much weight in one corner of his heart. Without revenge, he could not be free. He had to tie up the loose ends somehow.

“Your opponent must be strong.”

“They are.”

“Strong enough that you need to reach Sword Master to face them?”

“Yes. Because the opponent is also a transcendent.”

“I see.”

The Helm Knight exhaled deeply.

He instinctively felt it. That this was an area he should never intrude upon. This was the young man’s sore spot, the flame he carried in his heart. An area no one else should dare interfere with.

“Well, everyone has their reasons.”

He had his own too.

The Helm Knight also had goals to achieve in this land. He exhaled deeply. As if having made a decision, he looked straight at Najin.

“Since you mentioned the victor’s rights earlier, do you know the rules of dueling?”

“I do.”

“Including the rule that the victor can make three demands of the loser?”

“The rule proclaimed by Baerman, the honorable duelist.”

“That’s right. You know it well.”

The Helm Knight pointed at himself, then at Najin.

“I am the victor of the duel, you are the loser. There’s no disagreement on this fact, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Accepting defeat is also a virtue of a knight. Then, I should rightfully exercise the victor’s privilege.”

After a brief pause, he said.

“The right to make three demands of you. I’ll use one of them.”

2.

The victor has the right to make demands of the loser. The loser has the obligation to comply with the victor’s demands. Rights and obligations. The more honorable the duel, the stronger these rights and obligations become.

That’s why Najin agreed to the Helm Knight’s demand. Besides, it wasn’t an unreasonable request.

The Helm Knight’s demand was simple.

To accompany him for a while.

And the Helm Knight swore to Najin that during their time together, he would not attempt to take Najin’s life.

“I would normally swear on honor and pride, but I can’t take those as seriously as I once did.”

He tapped his helmet.

“I swear on this helmet. This helmet carries not just my own honor, but the honor of the entire Golden Horn Knights. This should be weighty enough for a solemn oath.”

The horned helmet. The Horned Helm.

After staring at the helmet for a moment, Najin asked.

“You mentioned the Golden Horn Knights.”

“Yes.”

“Could you tell me more about this order of knights?”

“Of course. I could talk about the Golden Horn all day.”

Since you’ve provided good drink, I should provide a good story. Muttering this, the Helm Knight began his tale.

“The Golden Horn Knights. An elite order of just thirteen knights. All wore horned helmets. The most honorable wore the most radiant horned helmet. The Horned Helm. This very helmet.”

He stroked his helmet.

“We shone. We shone brighter than anyone. We didn’t envy even the stars in the night sky. Carrying the spear of the Cross Star, we charged across battlefields. Blowing golden horned trumpets, we trampled the Empire’s enemies. We were always honorable and proud.”

I can still hear the sound when I close my eyes.

The sound of the horned trumpets and our footsteps marching in formation, the sound of hoofbeats, the clanking of armor. The Helm Knight spoke as if singing.

“The Empire chanted our name. We always won, and won gloriously. Our extended spears seemed to reach beyond the horizon, and would pierce through not only the Outer Continent but even the enemies of Camlann.”

He looked at his spear.

“The technique I showed you earlier, all knights of the Golden Horn could use it. There was one who used it best, but everyone used it at least as well as I do.”

Imagine, he said.

“Thirteen knights form a line. Clank! The sound of armor echoes loudly. Then boom, they strike the ground forcefully and take their stance simultaneously. Thirteen gleaming spears target a single enemy, extending without the slightest error.”

It was a magnificent sight. A nostalgic scene.

Ah, he sighed deeply.

“Blow the horned trumpet. Pierce through the Empire’s enemies. Glorious victory to the Empire. Proud knights of the Golden Horn! We shall march forward forever…”

He sang of a dream he could no longer dream.

His voice, immersed in memories, was full of vigor. Full of life. But when he finished all those stories, his voice sank heavily.

“It’s all in the past now. There was such an order of knights. The most powerful knights in the Empire.”

“…”

“You look like you have many questions. Understandable. Why isn’t such a great order of knights recorded anywhere? That’s what you want to ask, right?”

“Honestly, yes, that’s right.”

Najin nodded.

It was truly regrettable to the Helm Knight before him, but Najin had heard of the Golden Horn Knights for the first time today. It wasn’t because Najin had no interest in knights. On the contrary. Najin had great interest in knights and their orders.

He had read countless books about knights and had practically memorized the orders of knights recorded in history books and their mottos.

Yet despite this, Najin had never heard of the ‘Golden Horn Knights.’ If what the Helm Knight before him said was true, and if such skilled warriors were part of this order, Najin should have known about them.

“Do you know about the forgotten kingdom, Rondinell?”

Najin nodded. He did know.

The Sword Master he had met earlier in the Outer Continent, Kirhov’s homeland was Rondinell. A country erased and forgotten from history about 300 years ago, the forgotten kingdom of Rondinell.

“Through the intervention of some damned constellation, Rondinell was erased from history. It could only leave a few lines of text. But even that was only possible because many knights belonging to Rondinell at the time offered their stars.”

Because they offered numerous stars.

Because they willingly threw away even their lives for their homeland. Because of the sacrifice of many lives and many stars.

“Rondinell was barely able to preserve the record that such a country existed. But you know, Rondinell was a truly special case. It was possible because of a special being named Kirhov. Most weren’t able to do that. The Golden Horn Knights were no exception.”

The same situation as Rondinell, the same constellation’s intervention.

The overwhelming power of oblivion and erasure.

As if recalling that day, the Helm Knight smiled bitterly.

“Believe it or not, it’s up to you. The Golden Horn Knights definitely existed. At least until 150 years ago.”

Worn armor. A helmet covered in scratches. Stroking the broken horn of his helmet, he said.

“Even if everyone else has forgotten, I remember. I alone remember. The victory cheers. The sound of horned trumpets. The laughter of comrades. The motto of the Golden Horn. I alone remember these things.”

And, the Helm Knight lowered his hand.

“There are many such people in this Outer Continent. Forgotten old heroes. Those erased from history. And at the end, there are more than enough who have gone mad.”

“…”

“The Forgotten don’t just refer to corpses that move. The one who forgets. The one who is forgotten. The one who has lost. In the Outer Continent, many are collectively called the Forgotten. In that sense, I might be no different from the Forgotten.”

Crack, the flames of the blazing campfire began to die down. The firewood was running out.

“The Forgotten. Those who have lost.”

Those who have been forgotten, who have lost their place.

“So I’m curious. How you will survive in this land. You, who momentarily made me drunk on past glory, what conclusion will you reach when you face the numerous Forgotten in this land? I find it interesting.”

Tap, crackle.

“That’s why I asked to accompany you.”

With a tap.

The last spark flew up. The campfire went out. What remained after the flames died was silence. In the silence, Najin and the Helm Knight looked at each other.

A shining star and a worn star.

“Let’s go.”

The campfire was out. Breaking the silence, the Helm Knight stood up.