Ch.313EP.66 – A Night of Knights and Campfire (4)

“If the soul has escaped, it makes sense that the blood would rot.”

The mysterious Ganok, a member of the [Spirit Eye] clan and the greatest spiritual medium of the current era, was providing testimony that supported Lac’s statement.

“Blood has been a precious material used in sorcery and magic since ancient times. The same is true in the present era. The reason is that blood is the ‘source’ that moves living beings.”

It was no exaggeration to say that blood is the force that moves all living beings, a crystallization containing pure life force.

In the context of sorcery, it was not uncommon to say that blood contained the power of the soul.

Therefore, the theory that the blood in a body whose soul had been transferred would immediately rot made perfect sense.

“I can guess how those cult members, the Blood Crusaders or whatever they’re called, transfer souls.”

“Is what you’re saying truly the case, Lord Ganok!”

“We are the Modred family. There are no greater experts than us when it comes to matters of the soul. If you search through the old records of Modred, you’ll find similar cases and ways to suppress this phenomenon. Well, the best method would be to travel with those who possess the Spirit Eye.”

“Oh!”

An unexpected stroke of luck, or rather, a solution was right here.

For the Lionel and Galahad families who had been pursuing this cult group in various ways, the unprecedented method of [Soul Escape] had been causing them considerable stress. Who would have thought that Modred would have the answer…

“I wonder why we never thought to ask Modred for help until now.”

While the Galahad side was dumbfounded at the fact that they had gone through so much trouble because they hadn’t thought of Modred, Ganok shook his head to stop their self-criticism.

“It can’t be helped. As long as the Great Archfiend’s curse remains, it’s difficult for outsiders to think of Modred.”

This case was no different.

If they had come to help Modred of their own accord, they probably would have encountered some incident before even departing for Wales and would have had to change course.

And Modred would have been completely annihilated.

In that sense,

“It’s fortunate that the one who requested external help was that young man.”

Ganok looked at the young knight with warm eyes.

“Are you really trying to stab me just because I teased you a bit? What a savage.”

“Hmph, your skin wouldn’t shed a drop of blood even if pierced by a spear anyway, so what does it matter?”

“That may be true, but your spear still hurts.”

“You’re exaggerating. You’re just a lump of metal in human form.”

“…Why can’t I deny that?”

He was still bickering with the knight of Galahad.

‘Ho ho, what extraordinary young people have gathered here.’

The old knight found this an interesting sight.

‘The young knights who will lead this era have gathered.’

Some were famous, others were not.

But one thing was clear: among them would emerge a knight who would represent this era.

This was based on the intuition of someone with mediumistic abilities, and generally, the intuition of mediums…

‘Is frighteningly accurate.’

“Ho ho.”

The old knight was in high spirits.

He was pleased that recently, there had been more things to laugh about, more sources of vitality in his life.

* * *

For a while, they were busy collecting spoils and sharing information, but soon the knights began preparing for camp.

While they would prefer to leave this place quickly,

Neeeigh…

“Yes, you’ve worked hard today too. Rest well, my comrade.”

They were all at their physical limits.

Not just the people, but the horses as well.

After all, they had ridden at full speed to Modred upon receiving the dispatch, and then immediately engaged in battle with hundreds of thousands of monsters upon arrival.

It was only natural that they were physically exhausted.

Well, even if that weren’t the case…

“What could those people have so much to talk about…”

“It doesn’t look like they’re talking, more like they’re fighting?”

“Well, that’s to be expected.”

An argument was taking place in an inexplicably large and luxurious tent.

To be precise, a war of words.

In this tent were gathered the princess of the kingdom, dukes, grand dukes, marquises, and others.

In a way, they represented more than half of Pendragon’s power, so it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a royal council.

However, more than 90% of the meeting content was,

“Impossible.”

“Hmph, typical of a northern cat.”

“Do you want war, Blake?”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to use my name.”

“Both of you, please calm down. Why are you so desperate to tear each other apart?”

“Have you forgotten that you instigated this fight, Princess?”

“Well, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Ahaha!”

“…Why have you been just laughing this whole time, Jeminia?”

…mostly arguing or sarcastic remarks, which was quite disheartening.

It seemed that in any world, when those in power gather for a meeting, productive dialogue is rare, and time is wasted on verbal sparring.

As the heated conversation continued without raised voices, the knights pretended not to notice.

Or rather, they shrugged their shoulders as if accustomed to it.

Why were they accustomed to it?

Because at any noble assembly, they witnessed even worse fights every day.

“I just hope this doesn’t lead to war…”

Although they stood shoulder to shoulder today, they might have to point swords at each other tomorrow because of this meeting.

This was something that even the most hostile knight orders would prefer to avoid, and they could only hope that this meeting would end amicably.

Just then.

“What’s this, they’re still fighting? This is getting tiresome, really…”

His muttering broke the silence.

It was particularly clear in the quiet atmosphere.

“Watch your mouth, rogue. His Majesty is not fighting. They are having a serious conversation.”

“That?”

“…”

“You really have a conscience, or rather, you’re blinded by loyalty.”

“Nonsense.”

Despite such mutterings, no one openly showed displeasure toward him.

Was it respect for his achievements, or respect for his power?

Either way, at this moment, no one looked down on him compared to those in the tent.

No one would even consider it rude if he were to enter that tent right now.

Ihan shook his head in disbelief, not hiding his exasperation.

“Sigh, forget it. I was going to say hello before leaving, but I can’t even do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? You heard me. I was going to say hello before leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“Yes, why should I stay here any longer?”

“…”

“See? There’s no reason. That’s why I’m leaving. I’ve done my part.”

“…This is absurd.”

“What is?”

“What are we supposed to do if you leave?”

“…Huh?”

“You really are as stupid as you look!”

“…What’s wrong with how I look, you bastard!”

Is he looking for a fight?

Ihan was too tired to bicker anymore, but when the other insulted his appearance, he naturally got fired up and his fatigue instantly vanished.

Thwack!

Thwack!

Ihan and Lac threw punches simultaneously without hesitation.

With full force.

Thwack!

Their heads jerked backward from the impact, but both men’s faces remained unharmed.

One simply had skin and bones tough enough to withstand the blow, while the other had perfectly deflected the force.

And in this state…

Thwack!

The two began exchanging punches again.

It was incredibly fierce.

Each time their fists struck each other, the explosive sound was like dozens of giant balloons popping at once, with enough destructive power to kill a massive boar in a single blow.

Anyone watching might think they had a grudge against each other, or wonder what this sudden commotion was about…

“If you leave, what meaning does that meeting have!”

“It’ll proceed just fine without me!”

“Ignorant fool! Those people gathered because of you. If you’re not here, they have no reason to be here either, what nonsense are you spouting!”

“What the hell! What are you talking about!”

“You’re the one talking nonsense!”

For them, this level of fistfight was merely a light “conversation.”

That was natural.

If they were fighting seriously, they wouldn’t be throwing punches that could merely kill a boar.

Therefore, this fight was simply a method for smooth communication.

Rather than the headache of resolving things through words, it was much easier for them to communicate with their fists.

…It was barbaric and absurd, but in a way.

“Truly a manly way of conversing, ahaha!”

Rather than persuading the other through dialogue, a sincere and refreshing exchange of fists might indeed be a more appropriate way for men to communicate.

Maximus laughed heartily at the sight, and soon.

“…This looks fun.”

Bang!

Maximus joined their conversation.

Boom!!

Maximus’s punch, reminiscent of a giant’s blow, shook the ground like lightning as it descended upon Ihan and Lac.

Crack!

“Why are you joining in?”

“What are you doing?”

“Well, I also wanted to join the conversation.”

“What are you saying?”

“Are you in your right mind?”

“Hahaha!”

“??”

The two men easily blocked the giant’s sudden punch, and Maximus, laughing hysterically for some reason, gripped his fist and charged at them.

Ihan and Lac were bewildered by the situation, but their opinions immediately aligned.

First…

“Control your madness, you lunatic!”

“You crazy bastard!”

They would beat up this madman first.

* * *

Whoosh.

“…?”

Bang!

Crack!!

Boom-!

…What on earth was going on?

Knights who had just finished setting up campfires and shelters for the night gathered toward the source of the sudden impact sounds.

And they saw.

Bang!

Three men fighting for no apparent reason.

Boom!

“What are they doing?”

An involuntary murmur of bewilderment.

Their fight was that absurd.

“The opponents keep changing.”

“Are they fighting 2 against 1?”

Their fight was peculiar.

At first, it seemed like two people were trying to take down Lord Maximus, but then suddenly two different people joined forces to take down Lord Lac, and the next moment, two others teamed up against Lord Ihan.

Then they would revert to one-on-one fighting, only to switch back to two-on-one.

It was utterly chaotic and extremely violent.

“…Huh.”

What was even more bewildering was that the knights couldn’t intervene.

No, the thought of intervening didn’t even cross their minds.

They were clearly fighting, but…

“It’s sparring.”

“It’s not dignified enough to call it sparring. It’s more like… wild beasts tangled up in play.”

“Ah, I see.”

That was it. Their fight was certainly destructive and intense enough that the knights couldn’t intervene, but somehow it didn’t seem like they were fighting seriously.

Yes, it was more like…

“-Just horsing around.”

“Your Highness!?”

“Don’t stand on ceremony. Let’s just watch together. We have an entertaining spectacle for once.”

“…”

“It’s amusing, isn’t it, Isis?”

“Don’t talk to me, uncle. I’m enjoying this rare entertainment.”

“You’re always so prickly.”

When had they emerged from the tent?

The powerful figures were watching the fight in a circle, just like the knights.

A primitive and simple fight.

But it was.

“Magnificent. Yes, this is what men are.”

Hot-blooded men can’t help themselves.

Before them stands an undeniably strong opponent.

A man they may not want to acknowledge but can’t help but respect deep down.

So they clench their fists.

It’s instinct. The innate instinct of males.

An infinitely wild and foolish act, but immensely enjoyable.

Isn’t it a “pure” fight without politics or calculations of gain and loss?

And it was truly…

“Passionate.”

A sight that warmed and stirred the heart.

Enough to make one feel that the passion of youth, which they thought had naturally faded with age, still remained within them…!