Ch.665No reason to fight.

Frigg had believed from the start that success was unlikely, and Knut’s desperate plan to prevent the Dane army’s retreat failed as expected.

Most participants were either captured or killed, and their resistance was painted as the riot of traitors attempting rebellion amid Dane’s chaos.

With the head of Dane’s intelligence department personally burying the truth and framing them, their true motives for fighting never reached anyone’s ears.

Except the upper echelons who ordered their elimination.

‘What a foolish choice, Frigg. Too reckless and hasty. A former intelligence agent failing to notice they were under surveillance and exposing their tail. Such amateurish handling.’

The intelligence chief fidgeted with the mana herb in his mouth while looking down at the royal decree ordering strict control of public opinion.

‘Or perhaps you were certain of failure from the start and planned your escape first? The more amateurish the operation appears, the more your pursuers would lower their guard.’

Indeed, when most dissidents were discovered within just two days, Ragnar Lokan didn’t hesitate to immediately move against Knut, Frigg, and the other dissidents.

If he had prepared for just one or two more days, he could have mobilized more than twice the forces he had and sealed the capital without a single gap.

The result of that carelessness was the escape of the dissident leaders, Knut and Frigg, from the capital.

‘I raised at least one good subordinate. I knew she was confident in her running, but to break through the Crusader’s encirclement while carrying dead weight…’

The intelligence chief chuckled as he tapped away the ash from his mana herb.

While he cooperated in branding Knut and the opposition as vile rebels, following the royal family’s orders, he deliberately omitted reporting that Frigg’s specialty was concealment and escape.

That was the intelligence chief’s small favor to his former subordinate.

‘There’s no need to report things that weren’t asked for. If they underestimated Frigg and let her slip away, that’s Ragnar’s mistake, not my responsibility.’

Ragnar Lokan.

The king of Dane’s younger brother, Hestein, and the man who became the leader of the Einherjar after showing exceptional aptitude for rune implantation.

Once merely a taciturn recluse, this crusader who became vigorously active like an unleashed horse after gaining the power of the seal was… in the intelligence department’s judgment, a suspiciously dubious man.

‘It’s strange… there’s definitely something fishy about him…’

The intelligence chief harbored feelings far from goodwill toward Ragnar—specifically, suspicion. The timing when he began to stand out coincided with when Dane’s national policies began to become unusually aggressive.

Whether this was mere coincidence or something related to Ragnar was unknown, and truthfully, it wasn’t something the intelligence department should dig into as mere servants.

Therefore, the intelligence department merely watched Ragnar with suspicious eyes but took no further action. Knowing one’s place and avoiding recklessness was the secret to longevity, after all.

—-

Knut and Frigg headed north toward the Empire’s border region, avoiding people’s eyes as much as possible, quietly making their way through forests under cover of darkness.

Visiting villages was a luxury, and walking along main roads was suicidal. The combination of a one-eyed limping man and a female knight was far too distinctive.

Having successfully escaped, Dane’s intelligence department would have spread wanted posters throughout the kingdom. Unless Knut’s eye and leg miraculously healed, being spotted by others would likely reveal their whereabouts.

Consequently, as they approached the Empire’s border, their appearance became increasingly ragged—to the point where beggars and bandits might mistake them for colleagues.

“Knut. Come to think of it, I forgot to ask… is it really alright to go to the Empire like this? By now, ‘that woman’ is probably stationed at the border fortress.”

While hurrying along a mountain path, Frigg suddenly remembered something and cautiously asked Knut.

“That woman?”

“The greatest sinner who cut off Orhan’s arm, the Baroness of Median. Now called the Sword of the Starry Sky, I hear.”

“Ah… that woman. Yes. Aishan-Gioro Haschal… will be there.”

Knut felt phantom pain in his empty left eye socket and his right leg that had been replaced with a prosthetic. The memory of infiltrating the academy a year ago and fighting Haschal flashed through his mind like old film.

A woman who spouted the absurd sophistry of slaughtering people to save people. The fight with her had left Knut with irreparable scars.

“Haschal…”

Knut murmured quietly, recalling the blue-eyed Ka’har who had charged at him like a beast.

The slaughterer who had led warriors to plunder the Dane border for years.

A warrior who had built overwhelming martial prowess by cutting down countless enemies.

As if atoning for her past, a descendant of the Great’s Twelve Knights who now fought without sparing her life to protect Westerners.

And finally, a legendary knight who had risen to become a guardian of the Empire, shedding her status as a shunned barbarian.

She was a woman too bizarrely complex and contradictory to summarize in one sentence.

Just when you thought she enjoyed killing and plundering people, now she dedicates herself to saving them.

Just when you thought she took pride in being a Ka’har warrior, she betrayed all Ka’har, sided with the Empire, and even cut off her father’s arm.

Except for her cringe-worthy cruelty, there was an enormous gap between Haschal’s actions before her defection two years ago and after.

Almost as if she had become a different person right before defecting.

“…Just in case, let me warn you in advance—if you swing your axe seeking revenge as soon as we arrive, that axe will end up lodged between our eyebrows.”

Frigg cautiously advised while observing Knut’s expression. Knowing Knut, he might charge at Haschal in uncontrollable rage upon seeing her face.

“Last year’s duel might have been close, but… you’ve heard the rumors about the Empire’s First Sword. The current Median is a monster. Even if you fought her a hundred times, you’d lose a hundred times.”

Once he charged in, there would only be catastrophe afterward.

Based on rumors verified by the intelligence department, the Empire’s First Sword was not an opponent the current Knut could face. Moreover, Haschal wasn’t the only one in the imperial camp.

“…Don’t worry. I have no such intention.”

Of course, contrary to Frigg’s concern, Knut had no intention of swinging his axe at that woman now.

With their original plan having failed, they needed to plead with the Empire to prevent the Ka’har from slaughtering the kingdom’s people. Only a madman would attack the Empire’s most crucial military asset in such a situation.

‘…It wouldn’t work anyway. I heard she caught Orhan’s blade with her bare hands.’

Knut had also picked up occasional rumors about Haschal.

And in those rumors, Aishan-Gioro Haschal was no longer human but simply a monster.

A superhuman with twelve tentacles sprouting from her back, flying freely through the sky wrapped in flames, with a body harder than steel.

She splits the sky with her sword, collapses barriers with a wave of her hand, breathes fire, and kills people by exploding them with just a glance… this was practically believable as an evil god from mythology.

Knut couldn’t even begin to imagine what methods the woman who had barely managed to dodge the Spear of War Opening had used to become such a monster in just one year.

Although Knut himself had grown stronger after obtaining ten runes, he couldn’t even contemplate fighting against such a being.

Unless there was an absolute reason why he must fight.

‘That woman slaughtered and plundered numerous Dane people. That’s an undeniable truth.’

If one had to determine whether she was enemy or ally, she could only be called an enemy.

‘But…’

To be honest, the number of Dane people Haschal had plundered and killed over several years did not exceed three thousand, even including those killed by her honor guard.

And the number of Ka’har she had killed during this war was more than twice that. In Knut’s judgment, if the war ended in the Empire’s victory, the final count would exceed five times that number.

‘The fact that she killed Ka’har doesn’t absolve her of murdering my countrymen. However… no one else in this world could match her record.’

If so, wouldn’t suppressing the animosity in his heart and helping Haschal, or at least not hindering her, be the best way to ensure the most Ka’har deaths?

‘…In the first place, it’s meaningless to question her morality. Dane wasn’t much better as a country.’

From Knut’s perspective, what Haschal had done to the Dane people wasn’t much different from what Dane had done to the people of Panam.

His homeland, Dane, had also invaded and plundered other countries as soon as it gained power.

So Knut could no longer condemn Haschal on moral grounds. What remained was only his personal grudge…

‘I can’t hold a grudge against a ten-year-old girl. If she had maintained her identity as Orhan’s daughter, perhaps, but especially not against a woman who severed ties with her father by wielding her sword.’

Practically speaking, Knut no longer had grounds to condemn Haschal.

Pouring his hatred for Orhan and the Ka’har onto her would be nothing but ugly stubbornness, especially since she had cut ties with the Ka’har.