Ch.42Knut

=======[Knut]========

I hate the sound of hooves.

Nightmares always came with the sound of hooves.

—-

My ancestors’ homeland, Dane, was a weak country.

Each man was a fine warrior, but there weren’t many of them.

From the moment they were driven to become sacrificial lambs after endlessly resisting the Empire, it was a country destined to live forever in weakness.

Fortunately, my ancestor was wise enough to foresee Dane’s fate.

So, the moment the Kingdom of Dane broke away from the Empire, he chose to pledge himself to the Empire.

Yet, perhaps reluctant to completely abandon his homeland, he settled near the border with the Kingdom of Dane.

Thanks to that, our family was able to live free from the eastern nightmare that swept through the Kingdom of Dane.

Until that day came.

—-

It was autumn.

I remember it was the height of harvest season.

Cool breezes pleasantly swirled around, and golden barley filled the fields, swaying like waves.

I often saw village elders rejoicing that this year’s harvest would be bountiful.

I returned home, hung up my axe, and wiped away my sweat.

“Have you been training all day again, Brother Knut? Play with me sometimes…”

“Astrid, it’s a warrior’s virtue not to neglect training.”

My little sister, Astrid, clung to me and whined.

I gently stroked her golden hair that bounced around her waist.

“Even for a warrior, there’s nothing to fight for around here anyway. Do you want to become a soldier?”

“Well…”

Indeed, this village was peaceful.

Although the northern and eastern parts of the Empire were always at war, those flames never reached here.

I had no intention of joining the Imperial army.

Though we could live peacefully thanks to the Empire, it didn’t change the fact that the Empire had driven my kinsmen to become sacrificial lambs.

My father, and his father before him. Even ancestors before them. It was a teaching passed down through generations, never to be forgotten.

Honestly, I wondered if that fact still held any meaning now.

Even so, following the will of my ancestors was also a duty that a warrior must uphold.

“Don’t trouble your brother too much, Astrid. Knut is trying to keep his oath to the warrior god.”

My father, who had just opened the door and entered, comforted Astrid.

He carried a deer on his shoulder.

My father was a hunter.

“Dad!”

Astrid ran to my father and hugged him.

From the kitchen, my mother came out to welcome father and me.

“You worked hard, Sven. We can have deer meat after a long time today.”

“Yes. I’m back.”

Astrid cheered at my mother’s words.

My father, still holding Astrid, approached my mother.

Both of them were smiling brightly at Astrid.

Yes. These things… once happened…

—-

An oath.

What was my first oath?

Was it to become strong to protect my little sister, my family?

Ironically.

—-

The village was burned to ashes.

It was the work of the Ka’har.

The mighty army that succeeded in bypassing the Wall of Berengaria for the first time since it was built.

It was an attack by the Aishan-Gioro, led by the giant Orhan.

That day, every man except me died.

Terrible blood storms and agonizing screams, vile laughter and the sound of hooves filled the entire village.

My father, who fought back, lost his life on the spear of a cavalryman.

Following my father’s dying wish to protect my sister, I carried Astrid on my back and ran.

The house was already burning.

I couldn’t find my mother. Not then, not ever after.

I pray that mother was able to follow father without being captured by those monsters.

I fled, leaving behind the village stained red.

My sister’s tears flowing down my back felt burning hot.

I couldn’t run for long.

Eventually, I collapsed with an arrow in my leg, groaning.

Astrid, whom I had been carrying, rolled to the side.

“…Volberg.”

Preparing for the fight I couldn’t avoid, I gripped my axe and murmured the warrior god’s name.

A giant man on a large horse put away his bow and raised the corner of his mouth at me.

A body resembling a boulder rather than a human.

Black eyes burning like coal.

He looked like a monster from a fairy tale brought to life.

Behind him, I saw a girl on a smaller horse.

A child with black hair flowing down, carrying a long sword that didn’t suit her.

Her eerie blue eyes stared at me expressionlessly.

I charged at the man with my axe raised.

Somehow I had to defeat him, steal his horse, and flee.

– CRASH!

With a single blow, my axe shattered and blood spurted out.

I couldn’t even tell where or how I had been hit.

My legs gave way, and I collapsed to the ground.

“Brother!”

Astrid, who was running toward me crying, was caught by the man’s hand.

With both arms firmly held, Astrid struggled, staggering.

“Hmm. This little one seems about your age. How about receiving a female slave as a gift, Haschal?”

The man spat out disgusting words.

I twisted desperately, coughing up blood.

Move…! Get up and fight…!

Even as I gritted my teeth and twisted my body, my legs wouldn’t respond.

Get up, I said!

What did you swear for, Knut!

I clawed at the dirt with my fingers, crawling desperately.

My half-raised upper body collapsed back to the ground as my elbow gave way.

I had lost too much blood.

My consciousness began to fade.

No. I must protect my little sister, Astrid…!

“…I don’t need her. Kill her or give her to another warrior as you wish.”

The girl called Haschal answered in a cold voice and turned her horse around.

The man, still holding Astrid, followed the girl and moved away.

No. This can’t be happening. Warrior god, please…!

Through my dimming vision, I saw my little sister reaching out her hand, crying.

—-

I was saved from death by my Dane kinsmen.

They said they had crossed the border in pursuit of the Ka’har’s sudden attack.

The Imperial army, which should have been guarding the border, had been defeated by the Ka’har and fled.

How ironic.

—-

For the next four years, I devoted myself to training as if I had thrown away my life.

I had already given up on my sister’s well-being.

I was convinced that a child taken by those demons couldn’t possibly be alive.

Until I heard from Dane knights that they had found a slave named Astrid, daughter of Sven.

I threw down my axe and ran like mad.

Astrid. My little sister, Astrid…!

You’re alive…! You’re alive…!

God! Thank you, warrior god!

Joy mixed into my steps.

…Until I saw her.

—-

Astrid.

No.

The woman who had been Astrid was lying sick in bed.

She had nothing left.

No eyes, no tongue, no arms, no legs.

A body wrapped in bandages was all that remained of my sister.

Even that was about to fade away.

Holding my sister who was taking her last breaths in my arms, I made a new oath with tears of blood.

That I would devote my life to killing all those demons.

—-

While fighting against the Ka’har in Dane with my identity concealed, I heard an unbelievable story.

A rumor that the Empire had decided to accept the Ka’har.

As proof, the Ka’har princess, Haschal Aishan-Gioro, would be coming to the Empire.

I remember that name.

The name of the girl who watched from behind Orhan that day.

The devil’s daughter.

Now fully grown, a demon who slaughters my kinsmen just like her father.

I had been hoping to face her on the battlefield.

Peace…? Now they bow their heads to the Empire?

I cannot accept it.

I cannot forgive it.

I gripped my axe and returned to the Empire.

It wasn’t too difficult since I was still an Imperial citizen.

The Kingdom of Dane had already established an intelligence network within the Empire by contacting Dane people with Imperial citizenship.

With their help, I was able to enter the academy where that woman was enrolling.

—-

The woman I faced after eight years was quite different from my memory.

Her height had grown considerably. The eeriness in her blue eyes had dimmed.

She had a loose attitude and always had a Mana Herb in her mouth.

She showed neither the icy coldness from when I first saw her nor the madness of a slaughterer I had heard about in rumors.

Except for the hideous killing intent and sticky smell of blood deeply embedded in her body.

The smell of my kinsmen’s blood.

I watched her fight, tracking her like prey.

Like her father, she possessed strength beyond human limits.

Violent movements, wielding violence without restraint, fighting instinctively like a beast.

She seems somewhat weaker than the rumors suggest, perhaps she’s hiding her strength.

She must be aware of me too.

On the other hand, when not fighting, she was more like a bad-tempered maiden.

Joking and laughing with the Dwarf girl, or chatting with the boy called Demian and the girl beside him—she didn’t look like a demon at all.

Perhaps her claim of wanting peace wasn’t a lie.

Like a wolf that had put itself on a leash.

As if suppressing her true nature and trying to be tamed.

But do you think I’ll leave her be?

I have not forgotten my oath.

I still remember my father’s death.

I still cherish the memory of my mother’s smile.

Astrid’s last moments… I will never forget.

I’ll skewer your daughter’s head on a spear and throw it to you, Orhan.

Come back and fight the Empire again.