A silent declaration. If necessary, he would cut Jayce down and take command of the rcenaries himself.
Jayce scoffed at the ridiculous display and clicked his tongue.
It was pointless. His n wouldn't follow anyone's orders but his.
But the knight had already resigned himself to dishonor. No matter what Jayce said, he wouldn't listen. Even if he did believe him, he was too desperate to back down now.
"Disgusting bastard."
"I apologize."
"Don't be. In fact, you've made this easier for . I should be thanking you."
"What?"
"Since things have co to this, I might as well take your head. It's too late to run anyway—I might as well do everything I can."
For a brief mont, the knight's face twisted.
The guilt vanished, replaced by open contempt.
"I misjudged you."
"Oh? And what was your judgnt?"
"I thought you were an honorable man, one who held himself to a higher standard than the average rcenary. A man more knightly than most knights. But in the end, you're just another sell-sword."
Jayce smirked. "Oh, that's rich, coming from you."
"No. But at least now I don't have to hesitate. If we're both scum, then there's nothing to feel conflicted about."
Jayce let out a dry laugh.
The knight truly believed Jayce was acting out of self-preservation.
Mocking him, Jayce curled his lips into a grin.
"You've got it all wrong. I don't plan on making it out of this alive."
"What?"
"Whether I accept your offer or reject it, I die either way. The problem is that my n would die with . So at the very least, I need to make sure they survive."
"The enemy will pursue them."
"If I offer your head along with mine, that should be enough to buy them a chance. After all, it's not the soldiers who hold grudges—it's the commanders."
The knight's eyes widened.
For a mont, he seed at a loss for words, his lips trembling slightly. Then, as the realization sank in, he let out a hollow laugh.
"Hah… Haha. You're willing to die to save your n?"
"I recruited them by showing them a dream. If I failed to lead them to that dream, then the responsibility is mine. Isn't that obvious?"
"Obvious… Yes. That is obvious."
Sching.
With those final words, the knight drew his sword completely.
His movents were effortless, as smooth as flowing water.
Jayce was a beat late in drawing his own blade. Even so, he imdiately regretted it.
There's no opening.
Damn it. Just how many steps ahead of is this guy?
Jayce knew plenty of tricks to close the gap in skill against superior opponents, but none of them would work here.
His own swordsmanship was nothing to scoff at, but that was among rcenaries.
Against the knight standing before him—a man whose very presence made even seasoned warriors falter—he was hopelessly outmatched.
At this rate, he might not even make it to the enemy lines. He might just die here.
Well… that's not the worst outco.
At least if he died now, his n would abandon the battlefield imdiately.
They would live. That was enough.
"I wish you had been my lord."
Unlike the tense Jayce, the knight's voice was filled with quiet sorrow.
The contrast was painfully clear.
A noble lord who abandoned his loyal knight to die.
And a re rcenary leader who was willing to sacrifice himself for his n.
Who was truly fit to be a king?
Suppressing a sigh, the knight spoke again.
"I'm sorry."
"Go to hell."
Schwing!
The mont Jayce spat out his response, he swung his sword with all his might.
A brilliant flash of light erupted.
And then—his throat burned.
He hadn't even seen it.
There was no telling when the knight had drawn his sword, no telling when he had swung.
Only the strange, foreign sensation in his neck told him he had been cut.
It had ended so quickly it almost felt absurd.
Damn it.
Even as the world darkened, Jayce could tell.
The knight had never once doubted his victory.
Not for a second.
There was no tension, no concern in his expression.
Jayce let out a bitter laugh.
So people are just born with talent.
That was his final thought before everything went black.
"…Young Master! Young Master!"
A voice rang in his ears.
Jayce felt a dizzying sensation as he ca to.
Soone was shouting beside him, shaking him roughly.
…What? I'm alive?
That was impossible.
He had felt the blade pass through his throat.
Not even the most legendary of saints could have saved him.
Then was this… a dream?
"Young Master! Oh, thank the heavens, Young Master!"
No.
The sensations were too vivid.
The sound echoed in his skull. The movent made his stomach churn with nausea.
If this was a dream, it was far too real.
Before he could yell at the voice to stop, a small hand was suddenly raised.
"Please wake up! If you die, I'm dead too!"
Smack. Smack. Smack.
What the hell?! Stop hitting , you little bastard!
The slaps weren't particularly large, but each one rattled his brain.
His cheeks were burning red by the ti he couldn't take it anymore.
"Enough… Enough already…!"
"Young Master! You're awake?!"
Jayce squinted through his blurry vision.
Before him stood a small boy with a low voice and a petite fra.
For a mont, Jayce wanted to curse at him for the beating.
But before he could say anything, the boy's eyes welled up with tears.
"You're safe! I thought you were going to leave us forever!"
What?
Young Master?
Jayce blinked.
That was… definitely not a title he was familiar with.
At best, rcenaries were treated like low-ranking knights.
But this boy was calling him sothing completely different—sothing ant for noble heirs.
"…The hell are you talking about?"
Rubbing his sore cheek, Jayce suddenly froze.
His hands.
His hands.
The palms that had once been rough and calloused from years of wielding a sword…
Were now soft.
Smooth.
What the hell is this?
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