Chapter 137. Following the Light in the Darkness (2)
“Carlo Maximilian, as a mber of a family blessed by the goddess and an honorary canon of the order, did his best to…”
A solemn funeral was being held in the great temple of Moirai.
Carlo Maximilian.
Not only ordinary priests but also high-ranking officials of the order were all present to bid him farewell.
So of the cardinals mourning him could not hide their bewildered expressions as they looked at his final form in the coffin.
The Maximilian family, though in decline, held a firm position within the order.
Carlo was the head of the Maximilian faction within the order and wielded great influence, so his untily death brought a great sense of loss and defeat to the cardinals belonging to the Maximilian faction.
From now on, all that was left for them was to face the coming ruin.
By the old lion who was approaching them with a single flower in his hand.
“…”
The two n who had been in the sharpest conflict within the order recently.
The victor, Bartomyu, was looking down at the loser, Carlo, who had beco a corpse.
It was a scene laden with many anings, so everyone in the funeral hall could only hold their breath and watch.
Those who followed Carlo watched with anger, and those who followed Bartomyu, with respect.
Those who were neutral watched Bartomyu, predicting the great storm that would soon sweep through the order, but Bartomyu himself just stared blankly at Carlo’s corpse.
“I should have listened more closely then.”
Bartomyu placed the flower he had prepared by Carlo’s ear, then leaned in close to the now-immobile Carlo’s ear and spoke quietly.
Many people were curious about what he was saying as he bid farewell to the deceased at his last mont, but even though the funeral hall had beco eerily quiet, Bartomyu’s voice could not be heard at all.
Although all eyes in the place were on Bartomyu, he just calmly raised his head and adjusted Carlo’s scarf.
The scarf that covered the grueso wound of Carlo, who had hanged himself.
A knight must show rcy to a rightful loser.
Bartomyu showed his respect to his political rival, with whom he had been at odds until the very end.
“…”
With his lips tightly sealed, Bartomyu left the funeral hall with his followers.
As soon as he left, the voices of people once again filled the funeral hall.
Leaving behind the echoes of mourning for Carlo and condemnation for Bartomyu, Bartomyu quietly walked down the corridor.
On and on, until he reached a quiet and dark corridor.
The dark corridor where Carlo had desperately held onto him the last ti they t.
Finally, reaching the dark corridor where the light did not reach well, the old lion stopped in his tracks.
“Sir Trez.”
“Yes, Count.”
Bartomyu summoned the vice-captain of the Holy Knights, whom he had won over, and said.
“Sothing has happened to the Maximilian family. I need people to investigate it secretly.”
Trez was considerably surprised by Bartomyu’s words, but he quickly regained his composure and answered.
“I understand.”
Looking at the bowing Trez, Bartomyu fiddled with his fingers.
“…”
Bartomyu had deliberately approached Carlo’s corpse to examine his wound.
The wound of Carlo, which the old lion’s experienced senses had quickly assessed, was subtly different in position for a suicide by hanging.
A strangulation mark that was horizontal, not an angled one below the ear.
‘It wasn't suicide…’
Judging by its position, it was certain that Carlo had not been hanged from a high place but had died from pressure that started from behind him.
“Jonas.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
Bartomyu turned around to look at his eldest grandson.
The child that his eldest son, Schumacher, had sent to Moirai, asking for one last chance.
His grandson, who was almost in his late twenties, but whose actions were less mature than a late teenager.
Just as it was written in the letter Schumacher had sent with Jonas, Bartomyu also decided to accept it.
That Jonas was not born a lion.
“From today, do not leave Iselin’s side. Even if she gives you the evil eye, you must stick to her tenaciously.”
“Yes.”
However, just because he was a cat and not a lion didn't an he was useless.
Jonas, who was consud by an inferiority complex and cared more about the opinions of others than his own, would be able to notice approaching threats more quickly.
“Do not forget.”
In the dark corridor, the old lion’s eyes shone intensely.
“A life is repaid with a life.”
Jonas felt as if he would suffocate from the montum of Bartomyu pressing down on him.
At the sa ti, he could feel that if he failed to carry out this task, he would never get another chance.
“I will risk my all, Grandfather.”
Following Bartomyu’s instructions, Jonas Tolo moved towards his cousin and the saintess of this era.
A life for a life.
Jonas, who had almost poisoned her, swore to protect Iselin with his life for the rest of his life.
Because that was his last chance to atone and be recognized by his family.
After sending Jonas and Trez away, Bartomyu walked alone down the dark corridor.
“What on earth did you see…”
Bartomyu closed his eyes and recalled Carlo from that ti.
Him, who had spoken to him with a wavering yet determined gaze.
‘Please, do not push Maximilian away and make them make a different decision.’
His words, asking him not to push Maximilian away until the very last mont.
However, Bartomyy was focusing more on the latter part of Carlo’s words rather than the forr.
‘Do not make them make a different decision.’
“What on earth was the decision you made…”
Walking alone down the dark corridor, Bartomyu quietly stopped at the spot where Carlo had stood that day.
***
“You said you wanted to challenge the Knight’s Sword?”
What greeted Blanc, who had finished his eting with Princess Isabella in Quiesco, was Adolf Maximilian, who was waiting for him with a resolute gaze.
“That is correct.”
Adolf looked up at Blanc, who was sitting at the highest point in Norington, looking down at him.
The sunlight shining through the colorful windows, said to be made by a dwarf craftsman, shone from behind Blanc.
Blanc, sitting with his back to the sunlight, was completely obscured by a black silhouette, but his eyes were shining brightly.
Seeing this, Adolf was convinced that he had co to the right place.
As he looked at Blanc sitting in the middle of the shining sunlight, and the shining banners around him.
“I have co here to challenge the sword of an honorable knight, Count Blanc Cadmus!”
At Adolf’s loud shout that echoed through the lobby, Blanc smiled.
Blanc had no choice but to accept Adolf, who was challenging him by openly invoking a knight’s duty.
The sword of Aselheit had promised Blanc many things, but it was also a sword that demanded just as much in return.
“I have confird your will, Sir Adolf.”
Blanc slowly rose from his seat and slowly descended the stairs.
He was just coming down one step at a ti, but Adolf, who was facing Blanc right in front of him, swallowed hard at the presence Blanc exuded.
The montum of the young wolf who had held the young saintess in his arms was now gone.
The one coming down the stairs now was not a young wolf, but the ruler of all of Norington.
He ruled everything here.
Even his every breath.
“But I cannot help but wonder.”
Blanc, who had quietly approached Adolf, whispered softly in his ear.
“Doesn’t the Maximilian family also have a sword blessed by the goddess?”
The biggest reason why the Maximilian family was said to be blessed by the goddess.
It was because they possessed a sword blessed by the goddess.
The legends of the era produced by the Maximilian family all held that sword.
Because they were a family that had vanquished the Evil while wielding the will of the goddesses with that sword, they had earned the respect of all the knights in the world and, at the sa ti, were able to hold the position of honorary canon of the Goddess Order.
“Th-that is.”
At Blanc’s question that pierced his heart, Adolf could say nothing and just bit his lip.
A family that had been blessed by the goddess, but was now judged to no longer possess the goddess' blessing.
In the current Maximilian family, there was not a single person who could wield the sword blessed by the goddesses.
The blessings of the goddesses no longer smiled upon them.
“That is why I have co here!”
Adolf embraced the deep-seated humiliation in his chest and shouted loudly.
“Blanc Cadmus, the Seeker of the Blue Star and the Sixth Knight of Aselheit! To be acknowledged by you, who are closest to the goddesses and one of the most honorable knights!”
Blanc smiled with interest as he looked at Adolf, who was eting his gaze directly.
Because the look of the petty man who had tried to abduct Iselin back then was no longer visible in Adolf.
“Very well. Draw your sword.”
When Blanc sent a look to the knights standing around him, they quickly created distance, forming a large circle around Blanc and Adolf.
Within the arena created by the Cadmus Knights, an honorable knight and a knight who wanted to be acknowledged for his honor stood facing each other.
“Adolf of the Maximilian family. Co.”
Blanc gripped the hilt of the sword he always carried and drew it.
With a faint, distant sound, the slender green sword slipped out of its scabbard.
The color of the peridot, which was said to shine brighter in the dark, caught Adolf’s eye.
The sword of Aselheit.
A sword that could only be received by those with talent so outstanding that they caught the eye of Aselheit even at a young age, before they had even been knighted.
A sword that could only be maintained by taking the lead in vanquishing the Evil alongside the Torch Knights, who uphold the will of Aselheit.
Talent and honor.
Towards that sword, the symbol of a knight, Adolf drew his own sword.
Although it was not the sword of the goddess that had been passed down through his family for generations, Adolf had to prove sothing with this sword.
“Thank you for accepting my challenge, Count.”
That his choice was right.
That his choice was honorable.
And that the choice the Maximilian family had made was wrong.
The sword of a knight who craved honor rushed fiercely towards the sword that possessed shining honor.
-….
A knight in black armor was quietly watching the scene.
The mont Blanc’s and Adolf’s swords t.
A man with gray hair arrived in front of the Cadmus mansion.
He said his na was Gornas Balthazar.
And at the mont Blanc’s and Adolf’s gazes t fiercely over their crossed swords, a flock of griffins flew into the garden of Cadmus.
Their leader said his na was Beronion of the White Branch.
Those who had sought light in the darkness ca to Norington, each with their own purpose.
A fierce resonance of swords echoed from the highest point in Norington.
Reviews
All reviews (0)