Twin Lance Knight (7)

“Kehuk.”

In a dimly lit back alley where not a single ray of sunlight entered.

The man with a scar visible on his exposed forehead kicked the boy who had fallen to the ground, exhaling a short breath.

“You filthy orphan bastard…!”

The shabby upper garment the man was wearing had a black stain on its sleeve.

The fallen boy had accidentally stumbled while passing by, dirtying the man’s clothes.

In normal circumstances, it would have ended with an apology and payment for cleaning costs.

But this was not outside but a back alley, the boy was an orphan beggar with no connections, and the man was a well-known thug in the area.

Moreover, he seemed to have been drinking heavily until just now, his entire face flushed red with heat.

-Crack.

A yellow tooth, broken in half, flew into the air.

In this garbage dump with not a single passerby, the boy seemed to be beaten to death.

-Grab.

“What’s this, you beggar bastard. You’re not letting go?”

However, conversely speaking.

Being a beggar with nothing, an orphan meant…

“W-what. Fuck, let go?!”

-Grip!

It also meant having nothing to lose.

Firmly gripping the leg that had been striking him, the boy pulled the man with all his might.

The man lost his balance and fell to the ground, and simultaneously the boy quickly got up and climbed on top of him.

In the boy’s hand was a dirty piece of glass covered with grime.

Blood splattered in the garbage dump.

After stabbing the flesh for quite some time, the boy, seemingly exhausted, threw away the glass shard in his hand, breathing heavily.

His forearm, mixed with blood from his palm that had gripped the sharp glass and blood splattered from the corpse he was sitting on, looked as if it had been dipped in red paint.

Until now, the boy had possessed ordinary sensibilities like any other person, so he had a basic aversion to hurting others or getting blood on his hands.

The fact that seeing blood is painful and being hit hurts is something anyone with minimal empathy can understand.

But the violence he first grasped after being pushed to the extreme was, how should I put it.

Too easy and simple.

To the point where he thought, was it really this easy?

Such incidents had happened many times before. Being beaten up for being an orphan, for being a begging beggar.

Each time, the boy had endured. He had subconsciously accepted it.

He had recognized and understood in his heart that he was inferior to the person in front of him.

However, in this case, coincidentally, the fact that the opponent was a well-known thug in the area changed the boy’s fate.

The thug didn’t know moderation, and the boy felt his life threatened.

At the crossroads of fate, the boy had to choose.

The boy chose to fight back, and the result was liberation.

Therefore, indeed. Could it be guaranteed that the boy would not commit the same act if such an incident happened once more?

When he could escape from painful and tormenting situations so easily and simply by just picking up something nearby and stabbing the other person’s neck?

With a blank expression, the boy wiped his blood-soaked hand on the man’s upper garment.

“…Damn, hardly any difference.”

It was a brief comment the boy made looking at the blood-stained dirty clothes.

-Spit.

The boy spat on the man’s corpse before standing up.

The boy’s name was Cornelio Difind.

A man who would later become known as the 6th seat of the Kingdom’s Seven Swords and the kingdom’s worst deserter.

The grown boy became a man who looked exactly like the thug he had killed.

The intense memory from his childhood stuck to his heart like a leech, growing larger, and eventually that leech became something akin to a guide for the boy’s life.

He wanted to measure everything in the world by his own standards, and the biggest reference point and origin in his world was none other than power.

It wasn’t just primal violence. An individual’s social status, authority, capital, etc. All things, including one’s own force, could fall within the category of power.

But what suited him best was still violence.

One day, he saw a military recruitment advertisement.

As he was being chased by debt collectors after running away with their money, he decided to volunteer for enlistment without much thought, both to escape and to earn money.

Not long after enlistment, there was a minor armed conflict between a city on the outskirts of the kingdom and a small city-state not belonging to any of the four countries.

He killed quite a lot of people there and received bonuses for it.

From that moment, he decided to stay in the military.

He saved money tirelessly and learned extraordinary skills like the circulation breathing technique and Aura.

He became a knight.

Not just within the kingdom, but throughout the entire continent, knights are high-ranking personnel.

A model of self-made success. Human triumph.

Although his life seemed to lack nothing, he was obsessively fixated on something at every moment of his life.

The desire to prove his strength. The desire to stand at the top in the world inside him.

If he competed, he must win, and if he lost, he must avenge himself.

He showed a pathological obsession with proving perfect strength.

Then, the Human-Demon War broke out.

And he met Evangeline Failondia.

“Kruaaaaaaaa!!!”

The boy who met a terrible end shouted.

Toward the girl who would become the final goal of his life.

Defeat must be repaid.

In the world of his heart, he always had to be the best and the strongest.

No one else should be above him.

He had to prove that his defeat was merely a coincidence, and the truth that he was stronger than her.

But the girl stood still, staring blankly.

Cornelio’s scream echoed repeatedly in her head like a broken radio.

‘Why don’t you understand!! My fleeing from that place! Those who died at Palantie!! Even your failure to protect them!!! All of it was because of insufficient power!!’

Evangeline repeated in her mind, in a daze.

‘They died because of me?’

She wanted to shout that it was nonsense. She wanted to yell at him to shut up and go to hell.

The reason she couldn’t do so was because a distorted sense of guilt blocked her mouth from the inside.

‘Are you going to lie?’

In her heart, someone whispered.

People I could have saved.

People I couldn’t save.

People I ordered to die.

People I drove to death.

All of them were looking at her in her heart.

‘…He’s right.’

Evangeline was somehow whispering that to herself.

‘If I had been just a little faster, a little stronger, I could have saved a truckload of people.’

The numerous gazes watching her soon became a terrible mass, clinging to Evangeline’s heart and refusing to let go.

They say humans are creatures of adaptation. True to those words, she had merely adapted to it.

She had just tied up the mass, wrapped it in several layers, and left it in the depths of her heart like a dust ball in the corner of a room.

And once disturbed, the mass swelled up like seaweed soaked in water, choking her where she stood.

‘Yes, I knew it all along. That it was my fault for being weak.’

It felt as if there were shackles on her chest, and she couldn’t move from where she stood.

The hand holding the greatsword felt as heavy as a thousand gold pieces.

Toward her, a fist cut through the air.

‘If I’m hit by that, I’ll die.’

As she thought dully, something tackled her from behind.

“Princess!!!”

-Crash!!!

The fist struck down behind her, and Evangeline rolled on the ground, embraced by something.

“…Delphina?”

“Snap out of it!!”

Delphina’s face, who had rolled on the ground while holding Evangeline in her arms, was tattered, scraped, and cut by the ground.

“What are you thinking?”

“Delphina, there’s blood on your face…”

“Why are you listening to the words of such a coward?!”

Wiping the blood smeared on her face, Delphina shouted.

“Because he lacked strength? That it’s wrong to lack strength? Tell him to stop talking nonsense! He ran away because he was scared after all!”

“…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Princess!”

Evangeline looked up at Delphina. Drip, drip. Something warm, whether tears or drops of blood, fell onto her face.

“The whole world knows that the number of people you saved is far greater than those you couldn’t save!”

Delphina exclaimed as if spitting out the words.

“There’s absolutely no need for you to feel guilt over such nonsense he’s spewing out!!”

In Evangeline’s heart, the gazes watching her closed their eyes one by one.

Evangeline realized then. Those things blinking their eyes in her heart were merely illusions she had created herself.

Jack’s apparition, which had been looking at her all along, had already disappeared.

“A half-dead wretch, interfering…!!”

Cornelio mumbled in a phlegmy voice.

-Crack…!

He twisted his face and slowly raised his enormous fist.

“Die, eeeeee!!!!!”

Cornelio roared, foaming at the mouth. His fist flew toward Delphina, who had fallen while embracing Evangeline.

-Crash!!!!!!

With a thunderous sound, the fist overwhelmed Delphina.

“…Kheu.”

The monster that was Cornelio smiled, raising the corners of his mouth.

However, a strange sensation transmitted from the end of his fist a beat later made him uncomfortable.

Why don’t I feel the warm sensation of blood?

Why is my fist—my body being pushed back?

“…Sorry, Delphina.”

-Crack, crack…!

Slowly, Cornelio’s fist was lifted.

Although it was extremely minimal compared to his size and bulk, it was more than enough height for two people to safely escape.

“You’re right. If I die to someone like him, I wouldn’t be able to face those who went before me.”

-Crash!!!

Cornelio’s enormous body tilted backward.

-Click.

Picking up the fallen greatsword, Evangeline opened her mouth.

“…Cornelio Difind.”

After throwing Cornelio, Evangeline took a step forward.

“Charge, wartime desertion.”

-Swoosh…!

The greatsword was swung once largely, and the blood stains that had been stuck to it fell off.

“The verdict is death.”

Raising the tip of the sword toward Cornelio, Evangeline said quietly.

“The executioner is Evangeline Failondia…!”