Ch.201Revelation (15)

In silence, Astrid kept her hands busy. Kain suddenly spoke up as if he had just realized something. “There, you made a mistake.” Indeed, there was a part she had knitted incorrectly.

“You know how to knit too?”

“I used to help my mother a lot when I was young. I’ve forgotten most of it now, but I’m still pretty good at spotting where things have gone wrong.”

“Can’t sing, but has the ear of a master.”

“You don’t necessarily need to know how to do something to point out mistakes. Just like how people can’t lay eggs but still know when one is rotten.”

Astrid let out a hollow laugh and stopped her hands. She returned her tools to the basket and interlaced her fingers. A spark flew up from the fireplace with a crack, brightening the room.

“Grand Executioner.” Kain’s face also flushed.

“I know my words are presumptuous. And as you know, I’m already an impertinent fellow, so I’ll just speak plainly.

In my eyes, Knight Commander Atli seems irrational. Do you think it’s right for someone like him to hold the position of Knight Commander?”

“I won’t fault you for being presumptuous. You’re still young. But I think you’re old enough to consider the other person’s position.

I am merely the White Blood’s strategist, and therefore cannot discuss the qualifications of the Knight Commander.

No one can always be wise. Nor does anyone always make foolish decisions.

A strategist’s job is to polish the Commander when he is wise so he shines brighter, and to cover for him when he makes wrong decisions so he can recover.

As you know, only the previous Commander who selected him as successor can judge the qualifications of a Commander. If you trace that back endlessly into the past, you eventually meet the ancestors of the White Blood.”

“Are ancestors and tradition that important?”

“Of course they’re important. What binds the members of the White Blood together? It’s not blood relations. Nor is it a state or a religious order.

The reason the White Blood exists as the White Blood is solely because of the belief and promise that we are mighty warriors who follow the laws and precepts of our ancestors.

So asking whether Atli is qualified to be Knight Commander is meaningless. It’s a promise. Like calling the place where the sun rises the east, it’s a promise and a tradition.

Why must it be so? There is no reason. There can’t be. It’s just what was agreed upon.

But without that simple starting point, without that fragile straw-like premise, this grand edifice couldn’t be built.

To become mighty warriors like our ancestors. That alone.”

But Astrid herself seemed to be feeling deep fatigue. Between her words, she rubbed her hands and massaged her brow.

It wasn’t so much physical fatigue as a kind of mental exhaustion. The kind of weariness that comes from having to do something you don’t want to do. She too seemed displeased with the current situation.

Suddenly Kain wondered if Astrid had made prior contact with the Empire.

When he had taken Lily away, Knight Commander Atli was in a coma and on the brink of death. Selecting a new Knight Commander had been considered a foregone conclusion.

In the meantime, Astrid, who had taken the position of regent, would have known that a grave threat to the Empire was approaching.

Perhaps she had even spoken with those who had been secretly dispatched to protect the Seven Heroes and then returned after being summoned.

Even Huber, the genealogist who had been in Emmaus, had fought terrible things he might never have seen in his lifetime.

Astrid surely would have “known” that this was connected to the Demon King.

While there was no way to know what political discussions had taken place, the fact that the Imperial court had issued an order “permitting training” made it clear that some agreement had been reached.

“I don’t think the Grand Executioner planned this training simply to quell the confusion and discontent caused by the succession.”

“Then?”

“It’s too intense for that. Intense enough to drain people completely so they can’t even express their discontent. In fact, weren’t you preparing for deployment?”

“Not just anyone becomes the director of the Security Bureau, I see. Yes, that’s right. After returning, I called back all personnel who had been dispatched.

Everyone unanimously clamored that the situation was dire, and I believed that if it was this serious, it would have major repercussions not only for the White Blood but also for the Empire. And I somewhat anticipated that the White Blood would march out this time.”

During the Fifth Crusade, the White Blood couldn’t go to the wasteland. Due to the aftermath of the Fourth Crusade, a strange tension had formed in the border regions, requiring them to monitor the northern and western pagans alongside the imperial army.

Now relations with neighboring countries are relatively peaceful, so there’s a good chance the White Blood will deploy to face the Demon King.

“But now that Knight Commander Atli has awakened, everything depends on his decision.

I am merely a regent. The Knight Commander’s decision is to ‘strengthen our internal affairs.’ From the perspective of the White Blood’s Grand Executioner, that’s the right thing to do.”

The Grand Executioner must have planned all this meticulously. And everything would have fallen into place perfectly if Knight Commander Atli hadn’t awakened and disrupted everything.

“I just don’t understand. What is the Knight Commander thinking?”

Kain finally expressed his troubled feelings. It wasn’t so much resentment toward the Knight Commander as frustration with the deadlocked situation. But Astrid’s answer was unexpected.

“Are you over thirty?”

“No.”

Astrid nodded as if she had expected that answer.

“Atli is twenty-six now. He spent over ten years bedridden and became Knight Commander recently. Even now, he faints three times a day and knows his life is running short.

How do you think he feels? A promising knight, honored with the position of Berserkr at sixteen, the future Knight Commander.

But he lost everything with one fall from a horse, and after sleeping like the dead for many years, he only recently awoke.

After lying in bed for ten years and barely regaining consciousness, he finds everyone around him only preparing for his funeral. What would you think in his place?”

Kain felt as if he’d been struck on the head. He had never thought of it that way.

“…He would want to assert his existence. And the easiest way is by not doing what he’s supposed to do.”

“That’s what’s happening now.”

For Kain, whether Atli deserved sympathy was beside the point.

The fact that he had constantly tormented his half-sister, that he had lost everything with one fair duel after endless dismissal, didn’t sit well with him.

Whatever thoughts Atli had, whatever desires he harbored, whatever decisions he made, those were his own feelings.

But Kain needed to understand how he viewed the world.

Not to agree or disagree, not to feel emotional rejection. He needed to understand, and then let it go.

Once you understand, you can move past it. Once you understand, once you can explain what something is, you can easily forget it. Otherwise, it keeps tripping you up like a stone at your feet.

Of course, this wasn’t what Atli had wanted. Though he had certainly caused it, he couldn’t have thought he would shatter his entire body falling from a horse.

Lily wouldn’t have thought that either. It was clearly an accident. Regardless of who caused it, such an outcome is overwhelming for everyone. There’s no reason anyone should bear the full burden just for providing the pretext.

It just happened that way.

But it’s clear that Atli, filled with anger and resentment, is destroying everything. And according to White Blood regulations, there’s no way to stop him. Since this has never happened before, even they don’t know what to do.

Kain finally understood Astrid’s position. Though she was known as the Ice Witch, right now she looked like an utterly exhausted leader.

“So the Grand Executioner had no choice.”

“Atli hasn’t shown his best side. If he had, that would truly be a miracle and something extraordinary.

Even when he was a Berserkr, he was noted for his warrior’s valor, not for fair handling of affairs or knowing how to command a large organization like the White Blood. But that shouldn’t be reason to reject Atli.”

“Because he’s the legitimate successor according to tradition?”

“Yes. Not simply because I’m his aunt. Not because he’s Atli. Whoever he is, what matters is that he’s the legitimate Knight Commander designated by my brother, the previous Knight Commander.”

To question or dispute that is tantamount to questioning the judgment of one’s predecessor. Tracing back that way ultimately leads to the conclusion that the ancestors were wrong.

There can be no wrong answers in the history of the White Blood. Even wrong answers must be made right. With strength, blood, and sweat, they have built up their answers.

Only one thing binds the White Blood together: the belief that they are not wrong because they keep the precepts of their ancestors. If that collapses, the White Blood collapses.

They cannot be wrong. They must not be wrong. An unfortunate group.

Astrid too gazed out the window and murmured dejectedly.

“Unless the ancestors themselves scold us.”

“Would things change if they scolded?”

“They would,” Astrid affirmed.

“Even my brother twenty years ago was like that. At such times, every knight questions, ‘Is everything proceeding correctly?’

That’s the moment when the most stubborn traditionalist becomes the most zealous revolutionary. When the ancestors scold. When white tears flow down from the mountain.”

Yesterday, Kain might have simply thought this was a White Blood custom. But not now.

The White Blood would rather have an avalanche bring down the world than admit they were wrong and correct themselves.

The statement “Our ancestors command us to repent, so we must do so” is an expression of extreme passivity.

Were they such overwhelmingly powerful warriors that they couldn’t bear to be without a leash? Or did they impose such constraints on themselves to avoid falling into madness? Kain couldn’t tell.

“Kain. Didn’t I tell you before? There’s always a reason why certain traditions survive. Young people like you see tradition as something to be discarded first.

But think of it the other way: it’s the best answer sheet obtained after countless trials and errors by many ancestors from ancient times.”

“But no tradition comes down unchanged. It’s refined and transformed over generations. Even the White Blood no longer builds pyramids with the heads of those they conquer, right?”

Astrid smiled at Kain.

“That’s a very old story. The reason it disappeared is that the White Blood doesn’t fight as much as before, and not doing that doesn’t diminish our warlike nature.

But the Knight Commander is different. That’s the essence of tradition, so how could it change so easily?

Even if I proposed changing it? The executioners would absolutely follow my orders, so they would agree to this change. But others in the White Blood wouldn’t.”

Astrid herself clearly knew it was unreasonable. But she was, after all, the Grand Executioner, the person who must uphold the White Blood’s discipline.

So, even if she personally disagreed, she was simply doing what she had to do.

Kain wondered if there was anything he could do. Of course, the answer was already clear.

If this was the standard of the White Blood, if it was a standard that could neither advance nor retreat, and if it was a standard that absolutely didn’t fit the current situation, then it had to be broken.

Breaking convention.

“Grand Executioner.”

“Speak.”

“Does the White Blood have something like desertion?”

“Desertion?” Astrid tilted her head.

“Desertion. Well? I haven’t examined all the records, but no stories come to mind. Usually, when people feel their limits, they leave a resignation letter and withdraw.

Otherwise, it would be desertion during war, but there probably weren’t such cases. The White Blood has always been about killing or being killed, not dragging things out. Yes, such cases are rare.”

“What about Liliana’s case?”

“That child is a bit different. Before becoming a Valkyrja, she was a Skjaldmær, so she was a knight and soldier of the White Blood.

Because Atli said, ‘If you want to leave, defeat me first!’ what Liliana did became neither running away nor desertion, but something permitted.

The fact that she left on her own hasn’t changed. But why do you ask?”

“Then, if a deserter appeared, it would be quite… chaotic. Especially if the escape route happened to be to the northeast.”

Astrid’s eyes hardened. Her lips parted slightly. The Grand Executioner of the White Blood burst into laughter. She held her stomach, coughed, and laughed so hard tears came to her eyes—a painful but cathartic laugh that revealed everything inside.

“Ah. Ah. Ha. Yes. It would be very coincidental indeed. Desertion. Unacceptable. If it’s someone Knight Commander Atli despises the most, he would mobilize the entire knighthood.”

“Indeed.”

“I hear the third floor of the eastern tower has a lovely view. Just follow the long blue carpet on the floor and you’ll get there quickly.”

“I’d love to see it.”

“Thank you for the crochet.”

“I wish you peace.”

Kain rose from his seat. He had work to do. He needed to make plans, gather people, and prepare. Though he hadn’t told Astrid, he was also thinking of bringing down part of the mountain.