Ch.158Jester or Knight? (1)

Who am I? Who was I?

I can’t remember my name.

Actually, forgetting my name wasn’t sudden. I had already forgotten it decades ago. That fact isn’t surprising.

Not surprising, but…

It’s not just my name I can’t remember now. Where I belonged, what weapon I wielded, what beliefs I held, how I acted—essentially, how I lived my life.

Everything is blurry. Hazy like fog. The Helm Knight’s eyes became empty.

My sense of self is fading. Inside the helmet, it felt itchy. A creaking sound came from the armor-covered body. The Helm Knight desperately tried to clear the fog in his mind. Amid the persistent fog, he discovered a lone helmet.

Snap.

The Helm Knight grabbed the helmet. The Horned Helm. Proof of being the captain of the Golden Horn Knights. The glorious horned helmet. Ah, yes. He remembered. He remembered. The Helm Knight groaned while holding the helmet with both hands.

“Ah…”

Having recalled his memories, the Helm Knight realized what situation he had been in moments ago. It was easy to guess what would have happened if he hadn’t remembered. Too easy. The Helm Knight trembled as he imagined the fate awaiting him if he took one wrong step.

He’s afraid. He feels fear.

Grand titles like Empire’s hero, transcendent, constellation, Sword Master—they’re all useless now. What remains here is just one human. A shabby, plain, wretched human.

That one human now trembles in fear. He clutched his helmet. The helmet creaked under the pressure of his fingers.

“Pull yourself together.”

Clank.

The Helm Knight’s body shook. Someone had grabbed his collar and shaken him. The Helm Knight raised his head and looked ahead. There was a shining star. A truly luscious star. A star that would keep him alive.

‘Star. Starlight. Life.’

As if entranced, the Helm Knight reached toward that star and gasped. He clutched the banner wrapped around his body. Pull yourself together. How far do you intend to fall?

“I was just thinking about something else.”

“…”

“Why are you looking at me like that? I remember everything now. I remember. At this age, memories naturally get hazy. It’s nothing.”

Though he tried to make light of it, Najin’s expression remained unchanged. Najin gritted his teeth. Seeing this, the Helm Knight thought: He’s sharp, so he must have noticed already. Yet he’s been pretending not to know.

Well, let’s stop making excuses.

After exhaling deeply, he spoke.

“Is this the 27th day?”

“…Yes.”

“I promised 30 days, but I never expected you to learn everything so quickly. Once you learn the one remaining technique, I’ll have nothing left to teach. So, are you getting the hang of it now?”

“…I’ll try.”

“Good. I’ll be watching.”

Najin swung his sword. He demonstrated the swordsmanship techniques the Helm Knight had taught him one by one. His posture was perfect, and the trajectory of his sword was beautiful. Even to the Helm Knight, who had been a Sword Master, Najin’s movements deserved a passing grade.

Screech.

But one—just one technique couldn’t pass. The sword wavered. His posture wavered. The slash performed with the wavering sword tip was, naturally, terrible.

Najin himself knew this. His expression hardened as he swung his sword. An expression of guilt. But in the Helm Knight’s opinion, Najin had no reason to feel guilty.

This wasn’t the boy’s fault.

Najin was an excellent disciple. He learned quickly and understood quickly. Even when taught just one thing, he could comprehend ten—undoubtedly the kind of talent many knights would covet.

For such an outstanding disciple to fail to grasp even the basics of one technique after more than a month… that’s not the disciple’s fault but the master’s. The Helm Knight knew this.

“…”

He let out a bitter laugh.

Of course it’s difficult to learn. Because it’s a Sword Master’s technique, because it contains the essence of a Sword Master’s life—he could make such excuses, but he didn’t want to.

“Stop.”

The Helm Knight stopped Najin’s sword.

“Stop. There won’t be any progress this way.”

“No, if I try a little more…”

“Don’t be hasty. And this isn’t something you can learn that way. It’s natural that you can’t imitate it.”

The Helm Knight looked up at the sky.

Looking at the star-studded sky, he muttered.

“How could you wield a sword that even I can’t wield? I’ve been teaching you something I can no longer do. With the example itself being wrong, how could you learn?”

The Helm Knight exhaled deeply.

“I can’t remember. How I performed that technique. How I drew out the sword energy. All I remember are sensory aspects. I can’t recreate the exact form, so I’m just explaining it to you based on that sensation.”

“…”

“So it’s natural you can’t imitate it. What’s the point of imitating a wrong answer when the answer key itself is wrong?”

Grip—Najin clutched his sword.

The Helm Knight lowered his head, which had been facing the sky. Looking at his rusted armor, he muttered.

“Memory. Memory, huh.”

A technique that was like his symbol.

A technique that brought him glorious victories and made him a Sword Master.

Recalling that technique wasn’t easy. It was the Helm Knight’s symbol, essentially the Helm Knight himself. It was a memory he lost when he lost himself and was stripped of transcendence.

Recalling it again… was like ascending to transcendence once more.

For a human who has forgotten even his own name.

For a wandering spirit lost in hazy fog.

For someone who has lost confidence in himself, how could he ascend to transcendence?

‘It’s impossible.’

The Helm Knight looked at Najin.

‘It’s impossible, but.’

In the days when he was called a hero, he achieved the impossible many times. The Helm Knight’s gaze, tracing his glorious past, looked into the distance.

“Ah, yes. That place was there.”

He muttered.

“If I go there, I might remember. Yes, if it’s that place, perhaps…”

A fallen star struggles.

To shine one last time.

2.

The Outer Continent resembles the underground city Attman.

Najin suddenly had that thought.

Of course, if examined closely, that thought might be wrong. This Outer Continent isn’t a city where insignificant sinners fall, but a place where powerful masters and heroes gather. Saying the two resemble each other might be disrespectful to the heroes.

But still, Najin feels that the Outer Continent and the underground city are similar. Because their atmosphere and nature are similar.

The Outer Continent, regardless of the reason, is a place where those pushed out from the world accumulate and deposit, a landfill where such things pile up and are buried. It’s also similar in that it’s full of people who have lost their dreams and are slowly dying under the weight of reality.

“…”

Is that why?

Why the Helm Knight’s back reminds him of Ivan.

“Where are we going?”

“The place where I won gloriously.”

The Helm Knight answered Najin’s question. He pointed somewhere and walked endlessly. Najin silently followed behind him.

“I think I can remember if I go there. There should be traces of my sword swings there, and seeing them might… somehow help me remember, don’t you think?”

“Is it far from here?”

“Not too far. We should arrive in a day or two.”

The Helm Knight’s voice was light as he said this. With each passing day, his voice was becoming lighter. His gait was the same.

“You know what, Najin? When I said I pierced a hole in the Empress of Bliss’s heart, it wasn’t just a metaphor. I really pierced a hole in her heart and made her star fall.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I achieved such a feat against a constellation with as many as 10 stars. Guess how many stars I made fall.”

“Well, maybe two or three?”

“I wouldn’t brag about that much.”

The Helm Knight laughed heartily and spread his hand wide.

“Five. I made five fall.”

Even Najin was surprised at this.

“If she lost five out of ten stars, that’s half—wouldn’t that be enough to become a wandering spirit?”

“Yes. Usually, losing more than half your stars at once would make you a wandering spirit. But the Empress of Bliss’s stars were a bit unique, so that didn’t happen.”

“What?”

“The Empress of Bliss wears masks and performs as numerous beings. It’s a kind of multiple personality, and when she loses a star, she discards the personality corresponding to that star. Like a lizard cutting off its tail.”

“What kind of…”

“The moment I made five stars fall, five new stars began to rise. The Empress of Bliss has dozens, even hundreds of masks. She just can’t handle more than ten masks at once.”

Do you know what those masks are? The Helm Knight didn’t expect an answer to his question. He answered his own question.

“They’re the stars of constellations that the Empress of Bliss has devoured.”

“…”

“The Empress of Bliss dyes those stars with her own color and handles them as her own. She can only handle 10 stars at once, but she has collected over 100 stars. Among those stars, some of mine might be mixed in.”

“Then how on earth… are we supposed to deal with her?”

“Right? Seems impossible, doesn’t it?”

The Helm Knight shrugged.

“Kill her over and over until she dies. That’s the simplest method, but it’s not easy. For that to work, you’d need to bring in those Round Table stars. So the remaining method is… to deny the very existence of the Empress of Bliss.”

“Deny?”

“Yes. After all, the Empress of Bliss is the subject handling the stars. Cut through the stage she has set, deny the concept of bliss, and pierce through the true form of the Empress of Bliss hidden behind the mask. I tried that once and was able to inflict meaningful damage.”

He touched the sword tied to his waist.

“The moment I made her lose a star, unlike when other masks were broken, the Empress of Bliss screamed. She glared at me while coughing up blood. She quickly pulled out a new mask, but I clearly saw the crack in her soul. The constellation connecting the five newly risen stars was also unstable.”

“Then really…”

“Yes. If I hadn’t lost all my stars there, I might have been able to finish her off.”

Thud, Najin stopped walking.

The Helm Knight seemed to realize his mistake and smiled bitterly.

“Anyway, the place we’re going to is exactly that place. The place where I made five of the Empress of Bliss’s stars fall.”

He added.

“It’s also the place where I last performed that sword technique.”

Originally it was the Empress of Bliss’s domain, but the Helm Knight and the Golden Horn Knights managed to recapture it, he said.

“It’s also where the Golden Horn Knights are buried. I should bury Krinbel’s horn whistle there too. He’d feel left out if I didn’t include him, wouldn’t he? It took a while, but I should bury it with them now. And…”

The Helm Knight trailed off.

He didn’t finish his sentence, but Najin guessed what he was trying to say.

You want to be buried there too.

You hope that place will be your final destination.

Though he noticed this, Najin didn’t point it out. He had roughly guessed this since the Helm Knight set the 30-day time limit, or perhaps even before that.

“…”

But knowing doesn’t make his steps any lighter. As the Helm Knight’s steps became lighter, Najin’s became heavier. As if that weight had transferred to Najin.

Najin walked, recalling the past.

Ivan. Lately, Ivan’s final moments kept appearing before Najin’s eyes. The voice of Ivan showing his back and shouting “Go!” echoed in his ears.

3.

Those who sense their impending end often show certain characteristics. Najin, who had long worked as a collector and executioner in the underground city, knew these characteristics well.

They start tidying up. They begin to pass on or dispose of their possessions to acquaintances. Some try to avoid or deny the situation and struggle, but… when all their attempts are blocked by Najin, they would resign themselves and burst into laughter.

A truly light laugh.

Najin had seen and heard that laugh many times. That’s why Najin could tell that the Helm Knight’s laugh resembled theirs. The distinctively detached laugh of someone trying to settle their life.

But the Helm Knight hadn’t become completely light yet. He still had lingering attachments. Is it because I haven’t fully mastered the swordsmanship yet? No, it seemed to be more than that. Najin couldn’t exactly tell what that attachment was, but…

He could guess that the attachment would be resolved once they reached their destination. That fact made Najin’s steps heavy.

“…”

He wants to stop him. He hopes the Helm Knight won’t do this.

The journey with the Helm Knight had been enjoyable, and while with him, Najin felt like he was with Ivan.

A master and senior, but also a friend who was easy to talk to.

When chatting with the Helm Knight, Najin laughed naturally and talked lightly without burden. Just like in the past when he chatted and spent time comfortably with Ivan. Najin couldn’t deny that those times were enjoyable and precious.

Grip, Najin clenched his fist.

Looking at the master preparing for his end, Najin felt complex emotions. But Najin couldn’t stop the Helm Knight. The Helm Knight wants to be a knight. Najin couldn’t stop him from preparing for his end as a knight. That would go against his own beliefs.

Reason and emotion make different choices.

Najin’s belief says this is right, but his emotions hope the Helm Knight won’t do it. He hopes the Helm Knight will live a little longer.

“You look deep in thought.”

Seeing Najin like this, the Helm Knight smiles. Still a light smile. One that seems like it could scatter at any moment.

“Don’t pity me. Don’t sympathize with me either. I don’t want to wrap my end with such cheap emotions.”

“I know.”

“Yes, a smart person like you would understand. But, even if you understand, it’s not easy to control your feelings, is it?”

“…”

“That’s how life is. It’s easy to judge what’s right. But we can’t always choose the correct answer in life.”

He said.

“A life where you can live and die according to your romantic ideals is beautiful. But reality is rarely beautiful. It’s dirty, messy, nothing goes as planned, and even when you try to stay beautiful, life smears mud all over you from everywhere.”

Still, he says.

“Still, because of that, isn’t the flower that blooms at the end all the more beautiful?”

He hopes his end will be beautiful.

Like many heroes, like the endings of numerous heroic tales, he hopes his end will have some meaning.

Hahaha.

But as he said.

Hahaha, hehehe, huh, hick! Ahahahahaha!

A beautiful life is impossible in reality. That’s how the world is. The world isn’t a creative work, and heroic tales even less so. Nothing goes according to plan, and far more people meet miserable and insignificant ends than beautiful ones.

Laughter comes from somewhere.

The laughter grows louder.

Maniacal laughter, sneers, chuckles, guffaws… all kinds of laughter echo. Music made of laughter resonates across the barren wasteland.

And.

“Applause!”

Applause erupts. Applause echoes with cheers, loud enough to shake the ground.

Someone stands in the midst of that clamor. He wears armor reminiscent of a ridiculous clown. Wearing armor adorned with gaudy colors—red, blue, yellow, green—he mounts a horse.

No, it’s not a warhorse. It wasn’t a horse. It’s an unsightly, shabby, and even grotesque beast. Mounted on a beast resembling a donkey, he raised his spear.

“Applause, cheers, enthusiasm, and even greater…”

The one-eyed knight.

A human castrated of all emotions except laughter.

A clown who can express himself only through laughter.

“Contempt.”

A constellation with seven stars.

The star that mocks knights, the Star of Contempt.

Quixote, the Knight of Bliss, charged forward.