Sweat streamed down Felkor’s forehead as he gripped the shovel. Those who have never had to dig their own grave could never understand how terrifying it is. Fear began to coil around him like a snake, causing his hands and feet to tremble, and a chilling sensation surged up from his core.
With a flicker of hope, Felkor glanced at Julian’s face. It must be a joke. He must just be trying to scare him. As he comforted himself with these thoughts, he studied Julian’s face.
‘Damn!’
His expression was unchanged, cold as ice, with a chilling smile.
“What are you doing? Your hands have stopped moving.”
With Julian’s unflinchingly cold voice, Felkor had no choice but to continue shoveling. With each shovel full, the pit began to take shape, large enough for a person. As it deepened and widened, an indescribable terror took form and approached him.
‘I’m going to die.’
Felkor’s rational mind urged him to escape. He could die if he stayed. He had to break free and move. However, he couldn’t easily take action.
“How am I supposed to defeat that monster…?!” The fear imprinted in him wasn’t easy to shake off.
“Sir Julian. Please, spare me. I am not guilty!” Finally, Felkor spoke respectfully. “I was only ordered to remove the resonance stone, I didn’t hear anything about deploying replicas! If I had known, would I have done it!? I was used too…”
Thud!
Even as he defended himself loudly while digging, Felkor suddenly felt the shovel hit something solid.
‘Huh? What’s this…?’
Julian’s harsh voice snapped Felkor out of his confusion.
“That’s far enough.”
Felkor, staring blankly at Julian, stopped shoveling and looked at him.
“Will you pull ‘it’ out?”
Julian’s slightly arched eyes urged him on.
“Yes? Yes, yes….”
Dropping the shovel, Felkor hurriedly brushed away the dirt with his hands, and something began to appear.
“A sword?”
What was buried was none other than a rusty, broken ‘sword.’
***
As the broken sword emerged from the pit Felkor had dug, I clicked my tongue internally. Rusty, broken, it was a sword too embarrassing even to be called a sword. Anyone else might think it was just scrap metal buried there, but I had expected this…
‘It’s still here?’
To me, ‘it’ holds significant meaning. What is it? This is, believe it or not, the sword used by Sword Saint Haydn Reich when he destroyed the ‘Pseudo-Color Society’ founded by the current Archbishop Tenellon. In a word, it’s a noble and precious sword but, damn it!
‘Where did the prologue go?’
Like a game that primarily revolves around the story of ‘Let’s Kill the Demon Lord,’ there exists a kind of ‘prologue.’ After accomplishing the great feat of subduing the Demon Lord, the Sword Saint vowed never to wield a sword again, and buried it in the ground, hoping that such tragedies would never recur.
One, the wind did not last long.
The news of Tenellon’s survival heard by chance.
The organization called ‘Dawn Society’ that was founded because of this.
Because of this, the Sword Saint has come back here and digs up the sword he had buried, vowing once again.
With the determination that the end of the tragedy will not repeat.
That is exactly the prologue all players see when they start “Let’s Kill the Demon Lord”.
The protagonist, who hasn’t even progressed that far, can he really be called the protagonist?
Originally, even the actions of the Sword Saint now are a series of incomprehensible things.
Even if I compare what he has done so far with the story I knew, there is absolutely no correlation.
‘I cannot accept it.’
While nodding, I was surprised.
At this moment, ‘Julian’s’ body is astonishingly
in tune with this emotion.
No matter how bad ‘Julian’ is known as, he acknowledged it too.
The Sword Saint always had to be noble.
The Sword Saint has always been Julian’s goal.
Our madman, ‘Julian,’ breaks that nobility to prove himself, as his life’s goal and direction.
“…Crazy.”
The goal was laughable, but I could understand the thought that ‘the Sword Saint is noble.’
Because he’s the protagonist.
The world revolves around a noble and righteous protagonist, not some sneering villain.
That’s why this time, I can understand Julian’s’ emotional line.
However, the protagonist who made me so enthusiastic about the game, for some reason, is gradually changing differently from the story.
The Black Knight, not even showing his appearance.
Suddenly seeking asylum in the Holy Nation.
“Hmm. It seems I don’t want to admit it either.”
Looking at the sword used by the Sword Saint and lost in thoughts, Felkor woke me up.
“How should we proceed with this?”
With a voice full of fear and trepidation.
“Please give it to me. I’ll take it.”
As I reached out my hand to take it, Felkor hurriedly handed me the broken sword.
I carefully covered the piece of sword, now as small as a dagger, with cloth and tucked it inside my coat.
Not just because ‘it was used by the Sword Saint,’ nor because
‘Wow! This steel is the most precious steel in the world,’
but because this broken sword is a necessary item to obtain the Bell of Quiet Night.
Only the players would know the reason.
Seeing this sword here…?
Perhaps, the Sword Saint…
“Now, what should we do?”
The rough and bulky guy looked pitiful.
I shifted my gaze to Felkor.
“What should we do?”
Although the purpose of coming here was to take care of this ‘sword,’ there was another thing.
“Can we stop digging?”
“How could that be?”
I faintly smiled.
“It’s still too small for a person to fit in, isn’t it?”
In this situation, Felkor knows very well how I appear to him.
It must be scary. He would want to run away.
Since it’s not easy to confront with force.
Then I must use him.
“Ah, as I said earlier, Aidan has not informed me of anything! If Daemon had derailed the train then I would have……………!”
“I had roughly anticipated it. His Majesty Ulysses’s actions being bothersome, and someone who has a special relationship with Aidan. Probably, His Royal Highness Prince Caldrac de Adraton had instigated Mr. Aidan.”
The Third Prince, who appears in the mid-to-late story, is a warlike and imposing figure who extremely dislikes anyone taking his place.
In fact, I had guessed to some extent that ‘Aidan’ had been scheming to stop ‘Ulysses’ from the beginning. Bishop Aidan, weighing the benefits between the Third Prince and the Dawn Society, is a character who meets his death by the Sword Saint.
He probably only intended to warn. But the one who unnecessarily escalated this situation was… Aidan.
Due to the butterfly effect on me, now that Gerard has fallen, Aidan’s position as a ‘Bishop’ has also been shaken. That’s why he took drastic measures.
“Currently, I am accompanying His Majesty Ulysses by the command of Archbishop Tenellon. Did you know that?”
“Th-that is…”
“Even if you didn’t know, it’s a problem. After all, you directly defied the command of the Archbishop.”
As I continued, Felkor’s face turned ashen, uncharacteristically for his robust physique.
“So, you should be grateful. Before the Dawn Society officially proceeds, am I not trying to protect Sir Felkor’s ‘honor’?”
I know it’s sophistry, but even such pitiful rhetoric is enough to tighten the noose around Felkor’s mind.
I forced him to dig in extreme fear, it would be strange if it didn’t work.
As expected, a ‘Color of Dishonor’ began to clearly appear above his head. It was an intensely thick color of ‘fear’.
“Haha, just kidding. Don’t be so scared.”
“……What?”
“I am a person who possesses ‘compassion’. I am not heartless enough to bury someone who is completely unaware.”
That must be filling his head now. Son of a bitch, motherfucker, fuck.
Naturally, unlike ‘Julian,’ I, as a person, possess the emotion of ‘compassion.’ Although, it may not apply well to a bald giant.
“Now, Sir Felkor.”
I reached out to Felkor in the pit. Hesitating briefly, wondering if he had another ulterior motive, he soon grabbed my hand, shivering, and was able to climb out of the pit.
‘…Damn, he’s heavy.’
Without him noticing, I shrugged my shoulders and made a new proposal.
“Sir Felkor, how about we consider the past grievances as nonexistent and start anew?”
In fact, there’s no resentment to speak of on my part towards this fellow. The animosity that Felkor holds towards me is solely his own dissatisfaction.
A sense of inferiority and defeat as the weaker party.
Nevertheless, I spoke as if to dissolve the ‘resentment’ between ‘us.’
“Now that Alphas is dead, is there really a need for someone of your caliber to act as Aidan’s hand and foot?”
I showed a sympathetic nuance as I defended Felkor.
Captured by ‘fear,’ he must feel some sort of emotion towards my words and actions.
Whether it’s touched or enraged, or whatever.
It doesn’t matter which.
I’ve already laid the groundwork to psychologically dominate him.
It will certainly be 100% successful.
As long as I can see his ‘Color of Dishonor,’ there is no possibility of failure.
“Please think about it. About why this task was carried out without giving you detailed information.”
“Think…?”
“Did Sir Aidan not know that His Majesty Ulysses was on that train? And yet, he didn’t inform you, which means he wouldn’t care if you died, right?”
Felkor’s expression, conflicted for a moment, soon turns to despair.
In fact, when suspicion turned into certainty, his pessimism in the extreme situation doubled.
Tap. Tap.
I patted Felkor’s shoulder a couple of times. It’s not something ‘Julian’ would do, but living in modern society, I was sure that this action would be helpful. Fortunately, he seemed to take it as encouragement, and the color of ‘fear’ above his head faded slightly.
“To use such a talent, who was even a member of the Empire’s Grand Order of Knights, as a pawn, Sir Aidan is truly foolish.”
“Sir Julian…”
Because of this, he doesn’t feel averse to what I say. His eyes, filled with water, looked at me with admiration.
Yes, I’ll take care of you. Follow me, and there will be light… well, not exactly light.
After all, this is why I have kept alive the man who should have been dealt with on the train. He must report every action of Aidan to me.
I held a faint smile on my lips. It was the same smile as before, but Felkor looking at me seemed somewhat comforted. It must seem as though there’s a halo of light shining behind me.
***
“Every time you come here, it always seems to cause a commotion.”
The next day, I woke up in the ‘Closed Eyes’ lodging in Berniden and responded with a smile to the unexpected man who came to meet me.
“Sir Oronil, how have you been?”
This was Oronil, the border count in charge of Berniden, a border city. In the past, he had burned down a forest because of a Tri-horn demon… Well, let’s forget about that embarrassing past.
“I have prepared a carriage, coachman, and horses for your trip to Fernand. They are ample enough for all the servants to ride. I have already informed His Majesty Ulysses, so there’s no need to pass on the message separately.”
“Thank you.”
“What’s there to thank me for? It’s an imperial command, of course, it must be done.”
Unlike before, there was no hostility in Oronil’s eyes. When I first came here, the atmosphere was not like this.
“How is your daughter?”
“Thanks to you, she’s doing well.”
“That’s good to hear. It breaks my heart just to see a child suffering.”
Although I meant it sincerely, Oronil didn’t seem to take it that way. He showed a serious expression and cleared his throat before continuing.
“I may be the local representative closely associated with the Sun God religion, but still, I find His Majesty Ulysses’s actions hard to believe.”
“Is that so?”
“Could he not be risking his life? There are those who despise the empire there, and one misstep could ignite the flames of war.”
I am aware of that. But what can I do? He’s struggling to survive.
“Still, if Sir Julian serves as the commander of the guard, I thought it might not be something to worry about too much.”
While listening to Oronil, I felt there was something off in his words.
Why? Hasn’t a major incident already occurred?
“Anyway, please take good care of His Majesty Ulysses. I too serve under the Sun God Solarun.”
Leaving these words of request, Oronil turned away.
“Are you acquainted with the local border count here?”
As Oronil’s figure completely disappeared, a sharp voice came from behind me.
It was Linne, who had also spent the night at the ‘Closed Eyes’ lodging.
“Miss Linne, was your sleep comfortable? I’m concerned since it’s not as luxurious a place as you might be accustomed to using.”
“I’ve gotten used to it while following my master around. Anyway, let’s not change the subject.”
She’s quite blunt.
“Sir Julian, while you were away last night, someone from the tower managing the train came by.”
“Is that so?”
Since they can’t confront the royal Ulysses directly, it seems they decided to approach Linne, who is more approachable.
“From the look of it, they came to make a claim about the disconnected carriage. After talking with Count Oronil, they went back with a grim face.”
“That’s good to hear. It seems Sir Oronil handled the conversation well.”
“Yes, exactly as you said.”
To Linne’s question of “So, what’s your relationship with him?” I playfully responded.
“It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say I’m Sir Oronil’s ‘life-saver.'”
Hearing this, Linne displayed a face filled with a myriad of emotions.
Cliche Novel 