Episode 45. The Platinum Knight
“There’s a mage here.”
Dominic spat out those words and smiled.
It was a chilling smile, like that of a predator that had come across plump prey after a long famine.
When Binaeril met his gaze, he felt an inexplicable dread.
‘No way.’
To avoid giving himself away, Binaeril had not uttered a single incantation.
He had even deliberately used a simple spell to avoid being noticed.
‘And he still figured it out?’
Truly, senses befitting of the epithet “Witch Slayer.”
Dominic stepped down from the carriage and trudged to the center of the main street.
If Binaeril’s hair was a dark, heavy gray, Dominic’s was a silver so lustrous it verged on white.
Long silver hair cascading to his shoulder blades, firmly set lips, and sharp eyes gave a cold impression, but he was undeniably handsome.
No matter how renowned a knight he was, only now did Binaeril understand why the crowds had swarmed so thickly.
At Dominic’s waist hung a sword with a platinum hilt that matched his hair color.
Aside from the deep blue surcoat draped over him, there was no particularly conspicuous armor. His attire was unexpectedly light.
Shhhrrng—.
The Platinum Knight drew his sword.
Even those marveling at Dominic’s looks sensed the unusual atmosphere.
Meanwhile, a child hurriedly gathered up the bread the coachman had kicked aside.
“Which one is it?”
Dominic rolled his eyes, searching for the mage hidden among the people.
Binaeril concealed himself behind a large man. Then he pulled his hood low to avoid meeting eyes.
“Rat-like bastard, where are you hiding?”
Calm down. The chances of him recognizing Binaeril among so many people were slim.
Only someone with the Mystic Eyes, like Rike, would be able to find Binaeril.
But contrary to Binaeril’s hope, Dominic gradually drew closer.
He pointed at people one by one with the tip of his blade, muttering.
“Is it you? No. You? Guess not.”
‘I should have bolted earlier.’
Though he regretted it immediately, running away now would only look more unnatural.
Binaeril judged that staying put was the best option.
“You there. Step aside.”
Finally, Dominic reached the hulk standing in front of Binaeril.
The hulk failed to live up to his size and meekly stepped aside.
Binaeril kept his hood pulled down and his gaze lowered, struggling not to meet Dominic’s eyes.
“Remove your hood and raise your head.”
He looked around while keeping his eyes down, but everyone was staring at Binaeril.
There was no avoiding it now. The words were clearly meant for him.
Binaeril raised his head and met Dominic’s gaze once more.
A young mage with ashen hair and a young knight with silver hair faced each other.
Dominic flashed that same chilling smile.
The sound of nearby women letting out faint moans at the sight of his smile up close could be heard.
Binaeril braced himself in his mind to defend against the attack.
In an instant, he ran through dozens of exchanges in his imagination and found the best option among them.
The moment he tried to draw upon Veritas’s mana,
Shwack!
The sound of Dominic’s sword cutting through the air rang out.
But what the blade found was not Binaeril’s neck.
Dominic threw his sword at a young man dressed in neat clothes on the opposite side of the street.
Without shifting his gaze from Binaeril, his strength control was perfectly measured.
The blade cleanly pierced the unrelated man’s chest, the hilt gleaming in the sunlight.
The people standing directly behind the young man collapsed in shock, their knees buckling, and they fled.
The knights attending Dominic also approached in surprise.
“Commander!”
“That one is the mage. Arrest him.”
Without removing his gaze from Binaeril, he gave the order.
Though he pretended to be calm, Binaeril too felt as though he might collapse.
‘I couldn’t even see it.’
“M-mage?”
“Do I need to say it twice?”
“Y-yes! Sorry!”
Only then did Dominic turn and climb back into the carriage.
“Drive.”
The coachman, who had collapsed with his trousers soaked, quickly stood up and returned to the driver’s seat.
Binaeril swallowed dryly, watching the carriage bearing Dominic depart.
‘I couldn’t react.’
Strangely, the thought that Dominic, the so-called Witch Slayer, had let him go would not leave his mind.
The problem was, he had an intuition close to certainty that if the attack had been aimed at him, he would already be dead.
He had also been a step late in noticing the sound of Dominic’s sword cutting the air, and the body collapsing pathetically with its chest pierced by that blade.
Even that much—if not for the senses sharpened through training with Jineulbaram—he would have noticed several seconds later.
—I told you so. Not to stick your neck out for no reason.
Veritas unleashed his trademark “I told you so.”
‘But why?’
The moment he removed his hood and met Dominic’s eyes, Binaeril felt that Dominic had seen through his true identity.
He must have known for certain.
That the culprit who had played tricks with magic was the boy right before his eyes.
But he had not killed Binaeril. Even though he easily could have.
It was something for which the reason was unknown.
Brooding over it brought no answer. In the square where frightened people were scattering, Binaeril composed himself for a moment and left to find his lodgings.
Count Siller’s mansion, located in Ayaksen.
Dominic knocked on the office door and waited for a response.
“Who is it?”
“It is Dominic.”
“Come in.”
Dominic opened the office door, entered, and offered a brief salutation.
“That’s enough. What need is there for formalities between us?”
The office interior was lavishly decorated.
The master of the room stood by the window overlooking the whole of Ayaksen at a glance, tilting his teacup.
His name was Victor von Siller. The one called Count Siller by the people.
The Ayaksen below him showed the appearance of a vibrant, well-ordered city.
“I say, Commander Siller. Have you ever looked upon the scenery visible from this place?”
Dominic raised his head to see what he was looking at.
“I recall having seen it on the occasions I visited Your Excellency’s office.”
“…Very well. The citizens all live safely within the embrace of Your Excellency; it could not be better than this.”
Count Siller shook his head slightly at his words.
“The impression I feel is somewhat different.”
“In what way…?”
“No matter how fine a painting, one grows tired of seeing it every day. Ayaksen is far too narrow a place. I wish to see broader, more diverse scenery.”
Dominic immediately understood his meaning. He lowered his head.
“I apologize.”
For him to call Ayaksen—a city large enough to be counted on one hand in the Empire—narrow was the same as saying he desired broader lands.
For instance, the entire territory of the Albrecht Empire.
“What have you to apologize for? I’ve simply been confined in this narrow place too long and spoke out of frustration.”
Count Siller set his emptied teacup on the table. Now it was time for the main subject.
“Have you found her?”
“Where she is.”
“She has been identified as being in the northwest, in the Thornwinter Wetlands.”
They were searching for a mage.
The one Count Siller had long sought since the King of Albrecht had fallen ill.
“Is it certain she is the Bewitching Witch?”
“According to the information received, it is certain.”
The mage called the Bewitching Witch had outwitted the Count every time he found her.
But her power was absolutely necessary for the coming war.
Count Siller had spent a fortune to bring Dominic Siller into the household just to capture the Bewitching Witch.
If he could take that witch alive, it would not be a losing trade.
“You know what must be done?”
“No matter what happens, she must be captured alive. Limbs are unnecessary; provided her tongue and life remain… That is what I recall.”
“You know precisely. Good.”
Count Siller let out a satisfied smile at Dominic’s answer.
“Then depart at once.”
“Yes. …Your Excellency, before departing, there is one matter I must report.”
“What is it?”
“There is a sewer rat within the city that may be of help in the witch hunt.”
‘Sewer rat.’ Dominic Siller always called mages by that name.
Count Siller opened his eyes wide in surprise.
“You have seen it yourself?”
“Yes.”
If Dominic had seen it himself yet not taken its life, it meant the sewer rat possessed value befitting that.
“The Bewitching Witch is a powerful mage, burdensome enough for me to handle alone. At any rate, I do not think it necessary to use a cat to catch a rat.”
Count Siller was pleased by his cunning.
“If our captain says so, it must be necessary. Do as you please.”
Dominic bowed his head with precision and left the office.
That night, Binaeril could not easily fall asleep.
Though it was a comfortable bed he had obtained after a long time, perhaps because of the day’s events, his entire body still felt taut with tension.
The Platinum Knight, Dominic Siller, held renown slightly less than Binaeril’s older brother.
Though what people say is not the measure of strength…
Binaeril did not think his older brother would be weaker than him.
‘I couldn’t even react to his attack.’
If Nunnaeril Dalheim is equal to or stronger than Dominic, that means Binaeril possesses a level of skill incomparably inferior even to his older brother.
Binaeril found that hard to bear.
‘I am so weak.’
Binaeril had been arrogant.
The reason he began learning magic was to surpass his older brother.
To punish his older brother, who did not atone for their mother’s death, with the punishment he already deserved.
Thus he had wished for his brother to atone.
But upon facing Dominic directly, he realized he was a frog in a well dreaming an extravagant dream.
Veritas, Eden, Dean Yulio, Jineulbaram, the wind spirit Jilpeu……
People acknowledged that Binaeril was an outstanding mage. He had indeed shown abilities befitting that.
But people’s acknowledgement had simultaneously created limits where Binaeril had grown complacent.
‘I can’t go on like this.’
Binaeril keenly realized that he must train himself.
‘Thornwinter Wetlands.’
The wind spirit Jilpeu had said there was a mage in the Thornwinter Wetlands who would awaken the abilities he needed.
Binaeril did not know who the wetlands mage was.
But a spirit that had overwhelmed him would not have recommended a mage weaker than Binaeril.
‘I must grow stronger.’
Binaeril lay in bed, firming his resolve.
In the Thornwinter Wetlands, he would devote himself more diligently than anyone.
While Binaeril was organizing his thoughts and heart, another movement was taking place beneath the surface.
Death gradually approached the inn where he was staying.
The innkeeper showed a troubled expression toward the late-night visitor. But he soon paled and retreated.
“Is there a boy staying here?”
Dominic Siller had come looking for Binaeril Dalheim.