Act 72

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“What business does such a renowned person have in this humble hut?”

Listening to the mocking voices of the soldiers, I glanced at the dagger in my hand. It wasn’t the long sword I usually wielded, but dealing with Gerard’s mere soldiers wouldn’t be difficult.

“Hey, why the silence? What are you here for?” one of them asked, frowning and raising his voice. The two behind him were ready to draw their swords at any moment.

‘I should subdue them first,’ I thought, lifting my head and casting my gaze toward the soldiers.

“If you leave now, I won’t follow.”

I spoke in a tone as devoid of emotion as possible. I really didn’t want a fight. Though my condition had stabilized, my body still felt the influence of the ‘Sword Saint’… In my swordplay, his style might inadvertently show through.

In such a state, if I exerted all my power, the real identity of the ‘Black Knight’ might be exposed.

‘Maybe, it would be easier to channel the aura…’

Just then, the soldiers charged at me.

Damn, my clothes are going to get dirty again. You’d think I had the same compulsion for cleanliness as ‘Julian’.

I was slightly annoyed, but my immediate concern was the enemies in front of me. They were fast, but compared to the ‘Monsignors’, they were incredibly slow.

‘As expected.’

I adjusted my grip on the dagger. Although the short blade required me to get close to strike effectively, the big swings of one assailant left huge openings, making it easy to close in.

As I approached, confusion spread across his face.

“Huh, huuuhhh!”

The reverse-grip dagger plunged into his body, and as the wind was knocked out of him, his legs buckled. He tried to fall, but anticipating a possible counterattack, I repeatedly swung my dagger.

Thud.

It didn’t take long for the first assailant, covered in blood, to collapse.

Despite my distaste for blood—so strong that my hands trembled—I ignored it as there were still two more to deal with.

‘Huh?’

But the remaining two didn’t move. It was silent. No, more than silent—it felt like the air had gone cold and dead.

The same ones who had been jeering now visibly displayed a color of ‘fear’ above their heads.

All of a sudden? What had I done…

“I told you, if you left now, I wouldn’t chase you. This is the consequence of defying my words.”

However, contrary to my thoughts, my mouth was instantly speaking Julian’s thoughts.

“You two as well,” I said, shaking the blood off my dagger and stepping forward.

“Ah, ahhhhhhh!!!”

The remaining two began to flee.

Huh? Where to?

Without looking back, the fleeing figures left me momentarily stunned in place.

“Uh… Sir, Black Knight?”

Turning toward the fearful voice of Meyer behind me, I saw the same vivid color of ‘fear’ rise above her head.

“Gulp.”

I could hear her swallowing her saliva.

Why?

At first, it didn’t make sense. I had helped, yet instead of gratitude…

But the reflection of the ‘Black Knight’ in Meyer’s eyes was truly chilling.

‘It’s like a face you’d see in a horror movie.’ Having turned a man into a complete corpse with just a dagger. And in such a brutally gruesome manner at that. Hmm, there’s not a spot on his body without a knife mark. It’s only natural for Meyer and the others to be terrified.

*Cough, cough…*

While lost in thought, the fallen man coughed up.

Since I avoided any lethal spots, his life wasn’t in danger, but the way he writhed, unable to move, was truly striking.

“Did you kill Baran on Gerard’s orders?”

At my words, confusion mixed with the fear in his eyes. I had suspected as much, but seeing his expression confirmed it.

“It’s only fitting for a traitor to Gerard!”

He gasped for breath, his voice coming out as if he was vomiting the words.

‘A traitor…’

It was only natural for Gerard to cut ties with the Nameless Gang at this point, but it was happening faster than I had thought. And from the mention of ‘traitor,’ I could somewhat grasp the reason.

Was it a problem that I mentioned Baran’s name at the banquet?

Seems like Gerard misunderstood because I hinted that Gerard was actually the one who founded the Nameless Gang. He thought Baran had betrayed him and was colluding with Julian, passing on information to him.

I felt sorry for the dead Baran.

“Don’t joke around, you bastard!”

Meyer grabbed the soldier by the collar in a heightened voice. The man, hacking dry coughs, seemed unable to resist her at all.

“How loyal Baran was to Gerard! To say he betrayed him, what are you talking about!”

From her words, it seemed Meyer had known all along that Baran was planted by Gerard.

‘This could start an all-out war between the Nameless Gang and Gerard.’

Thinking this…

“Do you want revenge?”

I thought it might be useful to exploit this situation, but at the same time, I wondered if it was the right thing to do. I should feel sympathy for her, having lost a brother-like figure, yet my mind was only thinking of using the situation.

It felt like my head and heart were not in sync… Unpleasant, but what can I do?

I’m already ‘Julian.’

“Don’t talk nonsense if you’re not going to help!”

Meyer looked at me with wide eyes. Before she could continue, and lest the fallen soldier overhear, I kicked him to knock him out.

“I owe Gerard too.”

“You owe him…?”

“Yes.”

As I nodded, Meyer shifted her gaze back to the soldier.

“How can I avenge my brother Baran?”

To her question, I pulled out a box from my pocket and handed it to her.

“What’s this?”

“A communicator.”

Inside was a communicator, which I had received along with a promise of support from Elenoa.

“For now, we can only wait for the right time. And when that time comes, show your resolve.”

“Resolve…?”

She seemed puzzled by my words for a moment, but soon any doubt disappeared from her eyes.

***

There is a saying that an enemy of an enemy is a friend, but I was somewhat flabbergasted to have recruited a member of the ‘Nameless Gang.’

It won’t be long before Gérard’s ambition storms into this place.

The upcoming ‘Grand Archbishop Succession Ceremony.’ In order to secure the soon-to-be-vacant position of Archbishop, one needs a public deed.

Moreover, he had long suspected the connection between Nameless Gang’s Baran and the Black Knight, and now, with the testimony of his subordinates who confirmed the existence of the ‘Black Knight’ at their headquarters, it’s definitive.

He will move more actively.

Ignoring the errors he has spread, he will try to eradicate the root.

If so, the dissolution of Nameless Gang is only a matter of time.

Although it has been expedited, up to this point, it was not much different from the original story of <Let’s Kill the Demon Lord>.

Even though Pintel survived and Sword Saint left the capital, the main flow seems unchanged.

In the story, the most important figure, the Black Knight…

‘I am doing it, so it might be possible.’

And one more thing.

A person who should not be interested in such matters is unnecessarily following me.

It’s not a variable, is it?

“What business does the noble daughter of the Londebell family have in the slums, following me?”

After speaking in a cold, subdued voice, I adjusted the mask made of ‘Sombra.’

Because she is someone to whom this identity must never be revealed.

Soon, a familiar face popped into a blind spot in my sight.

Long hair trailing behind her back in golden waves, and green eyes like Meyer’s, though hers were filled with calmness.

“When did you know I was following you?”

“From the beginning.”

‘It’s a lie.’

In fact, I knew only after entering this alley, but my bluff seemed to work as Linne’s eyes wavered slightly.

“If you had known I was following, you wouldn’t have shown such an opening.”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t attack.”

“ · · · · · · ?”

“A noble knight from the distinguished Londebell family wouldn’t do such a thing.”

Yes, that’s also a lie.

“Ahem.”

However, pleased with my answer, Linne coughed lightly and turned her head slightly.

“By the way, why did the daughter of Londebell come all the way to the slums to follow me?”

“To see your swordsmanship with my own eyes.”

Linne unexpectedly revealed the reason for her stalking quite boldly.

To see my swordsmanship?

‘Fortunately, she doesn’t seem curious about the identity of the Black Knight.’

I sighed in relief internally.

Because of a recent incident, I had been slightly uncomfortable with her.

“So, did you learn anything from my swordsmanship?”

“I did.”

Seeing her speak without hesitation, I became curious.

I fully trust my own swordsmanship, but it was not originally honed from scratch; it was ‘made.’

That piqued my interest.

“What is it?”

“It’s not as elegant as people say.”

Yes, she could think that. But now, I felt slightly provoked.

“It’s fine to critique my swordsmanship, but it’s a bit unpleasant hearing it from someone who was just following me.”

“But isn’t that the truth? Your swordsmanship is crude. It’s described as ‘swordsmanship that swallows moonlight,’ but that doesn’t suit someone like you, an outlaw.”

It doesn’t suit me…

The moment I heard those words, I immediately knew whom Linne was thinking of.

Probably her master, the Sword Saint, Hayden Reich.

The epitome of swordsmanship she imagines always leads back to him.

“Just from seeing me use a dagger, can you assert that?”

“Because I could see your mindset.”

“From the way you talk, it seems you have actually seen someone who uses the ‘swordsmanship that swallows moonlight’?”

“Yes, of course.”

Of course…

Seeing her nod so naturally, it was clear she was thinking of the Sword Saint.

‘Am I annoyed?’

Even though I have taken over someone else’s body, I thought ‘Julian’s’ swordsmanship was quite elegant.

‘The Sword Saint’s swordsmanship does live up to its name.’

I didn’t expect to be so openly disregarded.

As I pondered this, I began to feel irritable.

The Sword Saint, who had passed on the role of the ‘Black Knight’ to me and abruptly left the capital.

I found myself resenting him.

“He seems to be someone you greatly admire.”

Because of that, I felt the urge to speak more emotionally than usual.

“Admiration is the emotion farthest removed from understanding.”

This line was originally said by ‘Julian’ to ‘Linne’ in the story.

A harsh remark he spat at Linne who, admiring the Sword Saint, could not surpass him and merely followed him like a shadow.

This remark led her to grow one step further.

“…?”

Linne seemed quite taken aback by my words, her lips slightly parted as she looked at me.

But realizing the meaning of my words to some extent, she tightly closed her lips and said nothing.

Leaving Linne behind, I moved on, exiting the slums.

Being with her made me feel uneasy and uncomfortable just in case.

And…

‘I want to get out of this filthy place quickly!’

*** 

-From the way you talk, it seems you have actually seen someone who uses the ‘swordsmanship that swallows moonlight’

Caught off guard in conversation with the Black Knight, Linne bit her lip hard.

The beautiful swordsmanship described as ‘swallowing moonlight.’

When asked about the person using that swordsmanship, the first person that came to Linne’s mind was not her silently departed master, ‘Sword Saint Hayden Reich.’

-He seems to be someone you greatly admire.

That was, in fact, Julian Crypart Frason.

The face of that detestable man came to mind before the Sword Saint’s.

-Admiration is the emotion farthest removed from understanding.

Indeed, that man was remarkable.

‘I know he is more sincere about the sword than I thought.’

The swordsmanship he wielded was so fine it could be considered art.

‘But admiration…’

Originally, it should have been directed at the ‘Sword Saint.’

How did it end up like this?

Confused by her own emotions, Linne lightly bit her lip.

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