Ch.159Jester or Knight? (2)

Star of Contempt, Quixote.

Knight of Bliss.

The world gave a name to this knight who had not simply made a contract with a demon for power, but had truly sworn allegiance to demons.

Clown. A clown dancing for demons.

It was a word contrary to “knight,” a word attached to mock Quixote, but Quixote liked the derogatory term “clown.” He considers himself a clown. A clown who dances ridiculously for only one woman. To him, “clown” is not an insult but the highest praise.

Laugh. Dance. Sing.

For her.

For my only master.

The clown knight dyed his armor in various colors. Yellow, green, red, blue… The armor, reminiscent of a child’s scribbles, is noisy and utterly ridiculous. And that’s not the only ridiculous thing about him.

A helmet decorated with peacock feathers, a banner made of patched rags, a mount resembling a donkey, a mask split in half.

Every element that constitutes Quixote is ridiculous. Is he a clown imitating a knight, or a knight imitating a clown? Whichever it may be, Quixote mocked the concept of knighthood with everything that made him who he was.

“Run vigorously, Rocinante!”

He drives the donkey with exaggerated gestures.

The beast, resembling a donkey but appearing twice the size of a horse, galloped with a snort. Its speed was surprisingly fast. Quixote charged forward, closing the distance of dozens of meters in an instant.

Mounted on the donkey, Quixote thrusts his spear. Unlike his exaggerated and ridiculous gestures, the power of his lance charge exceeded Najin’s imagination.

KWAAAAAAANG!

The moment Quixote’s spear struck the Helm Knight, a shockwave erupted. The air exploded and the ground split. The Helm Knight’s body floated in the air, and even Najin, who wasn’t directly hit by the spear, was pushed back by the shockwave and tumbled on the ground.

It was as if a bomb had exploded rather than a spear thrust. Najin heard a “piiiiing…” ringing in his ears. Blood flowed from his ears. His eardrum had burst. When Najin barely managed to raise his head, Quixote was looking down at him.

“Oh, Sancho! Sancho, why are you here?”

Quixote smiled at Najin. With an incredibly friendly smile, he extended his hand to Najin.

“Let’s run, Sancho. Don’t you see the monster over there? There’s a giant. There’s a giant! A true knight fights giants and sings for his lady. Let’s sing together.”

Najin immediately drew his sword energy and tried to strike away Quixote’s hand, but Quixote deflected Najin’s sword as easily as grabbing a child’s wrist.

“Come.”

Just as Quixote’s hand was about to grab Najin.

“Get lost, filthy clown.”

A fierce sword energy swept through.

A sword energy that cut through the ground from far away struck Quixote’s body. The Helm Knight walked toward Quixote, who was pushed back, with his sword pointed at him.

“That one is my disciple. Didn’t you kill your disciple Sancho with your own hands? Why, do you regret it now?”

“What are you talking about? Sancho is right here.”

Quixote caressed his spear.

Stroking the star spear made from melted constellations as if it were lovely, Quixote curled up the corners of his mouth. Once, Sancho was the name of a servant who served Quixote, but to the current Quixote, Sancho is not a servant but an expression.

A young star. A star that has not yet lost its purity.

Raising the spear made by melting Sancho, Quixote laughs maniacally. Maniacal laughter. Roaring laughter. Sneering. The clown, who can only express his emotions through laughter, laughs as if the world is ending.

“My lady wants you,” he says.

“My master wants you.”

With his spear pointed at the Helm Knight, the clown sneers. The Helm Knight responds to that sneer with silence. The sound he wanted to hear wasn’t the clown’s sneer anyway.

Tap.

The Helm Knight stood beside Najin.

“Najin.”

There was no response.

The Helm Knight looked at Najin. Najin was glaring with his sword raised. His shoulders and arms were excessively tense, and blood vessels were bulging in his glaring eyes. He seemed unable to hear the surrounding sounds due to excessive tension.

The Helm Knight tapped Najin’s head.

“Relax. If you swing with that much tension, you won’t be able to cut what you could otherwise cut.”

“……”

Najin looked at the Helm Knight.

Although he couldn’t see the pupils behind the helmet, Najin felt the Helm Knight’s gaze. And the meaning contained in that gaze.

“Najin.”

“Don’t do it.”

“Three times……”

“I said don’t do it.”

Najin cut off the Helm Knight’s words.

“Twice is not acceptable. Do you understand? I said twice is not acceptable.”

The Helm Knight knows what those “twice” refer to.

After all, he had heard about Ivan from Najin. The Helm Knight knows what happened to Najin’s first master, what his end was like.

And he knows that the current situation overlaps with that time.

“So,” Najin said to the Helm Knight, as if spitting out the words.

“Instead of saying nonsense like you’re going to use your third request here, prepare to fight.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t planning to use that yet.”

“…What?”

“Three times. I’ll block him three times. Within that, aim for his left side. Strike a blow from his blind spot. That seems to be the only way to create an opening.”

Just as he finished saying that, Quixote charged again. It was closer to teleportation than a charge. He was right in front of them in the blink of an eye.

“If you understand, move. Quickly.”

As the Helm Knight gestured, Najin kicked the ground and jumped to the side. The Helm Knight received Quixote’s spear that had come right up to his face. The moment he received it, all the joints in his body made creaking sounds, but he endured it.

First strike, second strike……

With each thrust of Quixote’s spear, the shockwave tore up the ground, and the Helm Knight’s armor shattered and scattered. And Najin slid into Quixote’s side. The sword energy on his sword shone fiercely.

Third strike.

The Helm Knight did not receive the third incoming thrust with his sword. He received it with his own hand. The gauntlet shattered into pieces from the shockwave. Fingers broke, and flesh was scraped away. Receiving the spear at the cost of one of his arms, the Helm Knight extended his other hand.

Grab.

What that hand grasped was not Quixote. The Helm Knight, who had grabbed the back of Najin’s neck as he was rushing toward Quixote, stomped the ground with his raised foot. Then, whoosh. He swung his arm and threw Najin away.

Where he threw Najin was the original destination. The sacred domain that the Helm Knight had won from the Empress of Bliss and taken from her.

A forbidden area for the Empress of Bliss.

Stars related to bliss rapidly deteriorate just by stepping into that forbidden area. The same applies to Quixote in front of them. If they escape there, Quixote will no longer be able to chase them. The Helm Knight knew this fact.

‘It’s impossible for both of us to escape.’

Then who should be saved? It was easy to answer that question, too easy. Throwing Najin toward the forbidden area, the Helm Knight smiled.

“Go ahead.”

With those final words, the Helm Knight, pushed by the shockwave, flew in the opposite direction from Najin. Najin glared at the Helm Knight with wide eyes. The Helm Knight did not respond to that gaze.

At least one of us has to survive, right?

The star facing death made a choice. Now, it was time to pay the price for that choice. The Helm Knight, who had rolled and slid on the ground, got up.

2.

Najin, thrown by the Helm Knight, passed through a translucent membrane and rolled down a slope. Najin, who stopped by stabbing his sword into the ground to reduce speed, gritted his teeth.

He must have lied.

What does he mean by aiming for the side on the third time? Was this his plan from the beginning? Grinding his teeth, Najin walked up the slope. He had no intention of moving according to the Helm Knight’s will. With his head heated, Najin moved impulsively.

Tap.

Najin stood in front of the boundary line. He wanted to pass through the translucent membrane he had just passed through and go to the Helm Knight. But the boundary line did not allow Najin to go outside. Thud, Najin frowned as he hit the boundary line.

Even when he pushed with his hand, the boundary line didn’t budge.

Why? Wasn’t there no resistance when I came in? Najin drew his sword. He struck the boundary line with his sword energy, but it only bounced off lightly.

“Damn it……”

Najin gritted his teeth and struck the boundary line.

A loud boom echoed, but looking at the boundary line that didn’t even get a scratch, blood vessels stood out in Najin’s eyes. Najin looked to the side.

‘What, what is this? Why……’

-……It’s a forbidden area.

‘So, what is that?’

-It’s a kind of sacred domain. A place where you can’t leave unless you follow the rules that have been set.

Najin exclaimed in excitement. What are those rules? Tell me how to get out of here right now.

-I don’t know. Even if I knew, I wouldn’t have told you.

At Merlin’s words, Najin widened his eyes.

“What does that mean?”

-Calm down.

“Right now, I don’t look calm……”

-I said calm down.

Merlin brought her face close to Najin’s. Her bluish eyes reflected Najin’s bloodshot eyes.

-Do you think anything will change if you go there now? Seriously?

‘……’

-This isn’t like you. You’re too excited, unlike your usual self.

‘The situation. The situation is like this. How can I……’

Najin groaned.

As his expression contorted, those intense emotions were also conveyed to Merlin. Merlin also knows what emotions Najin is feeling and what thoughts he is having.

“It’s the second time. I said it’s the second time.”

This is a situation that remains a trauma for Najin. Ivan, who was a master, a father, and a friend to Najin, sacrificed himself to save Najin. And Najin knew this fact but couldn’t do anything.

Because he had no power. Because his skills were lacking. Because there was no way for Najin at that time to save Ivan.

Much time has passed since then. Najin has now gone beyond Sword Expert to become a Sword Seeker, reached the stage of sprouting, and obtained three stars. Najin thought that now that he was much stronger than before, he wouldn’t have to go through the same situation as then.

He was wrong. He was completely wrong.

Najin is still weak. Even now, with three stars, nothing has changed from that time.

“What do you mean this isn’t like me? For what purpose did I…”

-……

Merlin also gritted her teeth.

Merlin doesn’t want to say these things either. She also feels anger at this situation. She feels emotions similar to Najin’s. But a guide should not be someone who sympathizes and gets angry together, but someone who shows the way.

-The Knight of Bliss is a constellation with 7 stars. He’s an equal or even stronger warrior than the Sword Masters you met on the continent. What can you do against him?

Merlin presents reality.

-If you go there now, you’ll only be a hindrance. Because the Helm Knight will try to fight while protecting you.

‘But!’

-I know. I know too!

Merlin spread her hands wide to Najin.

-Then why don’t I descend there? Should I smash that? If that’s what you want, say it. I’ll do whatever you want.

Eleven blue stars were shining in her hand.

Najin felt that Merlin wasn’t just making empty promises. If Najin wished for it, Merlin would really do it. She had that ability. For Merlin, it would be too easy to descend her true body, kill Quixote, and save the Helm Knight.

But what then?

Even if Merlin saves the Helm Knight, he doesn’t have much time left. At most, he has only a day or two left. And the price for gaining those two days? The destruction of the Outer Continent and the Continent.

The moment Merlin moves, the boundary line will shake and a gap will form in the seal of Camlann. The cursed things of the Abyss will burst through the gap, and the Witch of Abyss will not miss this opportunity and try to intervene in this land. To gift humanity with the doom that has been postponed for a thousand years.

The Outer Continent and Camlann will mix, and next is the Continent.

Countless people will die.

They will suffer fates worse than death.

In the end, Najin cannot choose. The price was too heavy to choose on a momentary impulse. At the same time, Najin feels disgust towards himself.

He feels anger towards himself who can do nothing, towards himself who tries to weigh the life of the Helm Knight against the fate of the world, towards himself who cannot readily make a choice even though there is a way to save the Helm Knight…

Grip.

Najin’s hand holding the sword trembled. He thought he had changed, but nothing had changed. Just like the day he fled, leaving Ivan behind, Najin feels powerless.

‘A way, there must be some way……’

It was around the time when Najin was desperately trying to think of a way.

Tap.

Someone touched Najin’s shoulder.

3.

The Helm Knight thinks.

Truly, the world never goes as planned.

‘This is the worst.’

At the very least, he wanted to choose his own end with his own hands, but the world doesn’t even allow him that. It whispers in the Helm Knight’s ear that there’s no such thing as a heroic ending, that death is always like this, and that the end is miserable and unsightly.

His body is pierced by Quixote’s spear. His armor shatters and blood flows from his dried skin. The Helm Knight is surprised that there is still this much blood left in his body.

Ah……

Fighting desperately against Quixote, the Helm Knight groaned. He hated how pathetic he had become. He hated it so much. If he were his past self, he could have easily defeated that clown, could have torn that clown’s mouth apart and gloriously claimed victory, but now he cannot do so.

Because he has weakened. Because he has worn down. Because he is broken.

The Helm Knight can no longer wield his sword as he did in the past. He can no longer win. But in his mind, he is still glorious and shining. The gap between reality and imagination tormented him.

‘Damn it, damn it……’

The Helm Knight gritted his teeth.

In this situation, he feels fear. Because the miserable end awaiting him has come right up to his face. Feeling terror at that end, he shuddered.

He senses his own defeat.

This is an opponent he absolutely cannot win against.

Desperately trying to give meaning to that defeat, the Helm Knight kept telling himself. Yes, he saved his disciple, didn’t he? A master who sacrificed his life for his disciple, isn’t this a not-so-bad end? This much……

No. He cannot be satisfied with such an end.

He wants to be satisfied with that and close his eyes gracefully, but the Helm Knight still has lingering attachments. Those attachments made the Helm Knight struggle in an unsightly manner.

The Helm Knight rolls on the ground in an unseemly way. He tries to create an opening by throwing dirt to obscure Quixote’s vision even a little. In a manner unbecoming of a knight, repeating the dirty tricks he hated the most, he struggles to survive.

He cannot die like this.

This kind of end is unacceptable.

He still has unfulfilled dreams.

He cannot die here……

But the world is not so easy that things happen just because one wishes for them. The Helm Knight’s body is pierced by Quixote’s outstretched spear. Spewing blood, the Helm Knight steps back. His staggering steps look like they might fall at any moment.

He no longer has the strength to stand.

Just as he was about to kneel.

“Are you trying to kneel again, you damn bastard. Is a knight’s knee so light that you would use it like that?”

Thud.

Someone supported the Helm Knight’s body. The Helm Knight looked to the side. Bernstein vanmoore was standing there.

“…Bernstein? How did you…”

“You said your destination remained unchanged, didn’t you? So I was waiting.”

Bernstein helped the Helm Knight stand up.

While helping him up, he said:

“All of us came running for you alone. Your end cannot be like this. It shouldn’t be.”

Bernstein smiled bitterly.

He deliberately didn’t say it. That over the past month, he had been investigating what the Helm Knight had done in the Outer Continent, that he had been going around to verify if his words were true, and that he had finally realized the fact that he had been closing his eyes, covering his ears, and turning away from for 150 years……

Instead of saying that, he uttered one phrase.

“Isn’t that right, Hero of the Empire?”

Not monster, coward, traitor, deserter.

But hero.

Calling the Helm Knight a hero, he raises his sword.

“A hero should have an end befitting him. Your final destination is not here. I cannot let you close your eyes in a place like this. If that happens, I won’t be able to face my comrades who were there.”

Bernstein raised his sword.

“So, go.”

Stars rise above a single sword.

Five old and worn-out stars shone above Bernstein’s head. The stars, which could no longer shine, shone one last time as if responding to their master’s will.

“To where you need to go.”

Bernstein’s sword energy burns the stars.

The sword energy, burning with the stars as fuel, shone like the sun.