Grand Hall.
The largest hall in the castle.
The place where every official ceremony and banquet within the imperial palace was held. In ordinary times, it was used to discuss affairs of state with the ministers.
In that vast hall, there were only two beings.
No, one was a person. The other was a Death Knight.
Sylvia sat upon the throne, and standing beside her as if it were only natural was Theordo, the black knight.
Of the two, Sylvia was staring down at the report before her with a grave expression.
“Will it really be all right?”
She set the report down and let out a faint sigh.
“Hio said he would go, but… he said he wouldn’t stay long.”
Written in the report were the details of Black Fang’s movements, followed immediately by news that the Academy had been attacked.
At that, Theordo nodded as if to say it would be fine.
It was not an action meant to reassure Sylvia; he truly thought it would be all right.
They had received the report only moments ago.
And even before that information had arrived, the strongest knight order in the empire had already departed for the Academy.
If that could be called fortunate, then fortunate it was.
Not long after they set out, the report of the attack had come in.
It had been a coincidence, but reinforcements had been dispatched quickly.
So even without Hio Pavlenko, would it not be all right?
After all, if it was Black Fang, the Sword Saint himself—who would personally take action anywhere on the continent—was on his way.
“…All right. I should do what I have to do.”
She was anxious, but the emperor must not waver. She had to stand firm at the center and plan the next move.
Just as Sylvia thought to summon the nobles—
She suddenly felt an emptiness and turned around.
“…Theordo?”
Only then did she realize that her knight had disappeared.
And then, all at once, the words Hio had left behind came to mind.
— Unless something happens to me, there won’t be any reason for your knight to be reverse-summoned.
“Hio… Theordo…”
Her unease only grew.
* * *
A flash of black light in his eyes.
A knight formed of death, darker even than the black mist that spread in every direction.
No further words were necessary.
“Theordo.”
A single exchange of glances in passing was enough. His will had already been conveyed.
What he needed.
What had to be done.
The knight of death grasped it at once and raised his sword high into the sky.
With it, death energy surged upward.
A pitch-black aura formed of the power of death.
It all happened in an instant.
He reverse-summoned Theordo, who should have been at Sylvia’s side, and resummoned him behind Ataolf.
The instant he appeared, Hio’s will was conveyed, and he raised his sword while releasing jet-black aura.
It all occurred in the blink of an eye, and even Ataolf had not foreseen it.
And so Hio hoped.
“Cut him down.”
He hoped that blade, filled to the brim with death energy, would split Ataolf’s mist apart.
He hoped the aura of a knight comparable to the Seventh Tier would shatter that mist to pieces, and he drew up every last bit of mana he had left.
The moment the curtain of mist broke, hundreds, thousands of bolts of lightning would fall upon his head.
…But.
Kaaang—!
It was not the sound he had hoped for.
Even though the sword had been swung almost the instant Theordo was summoned, Ataolf had reacted.
No—more than reacted, he had blocked it.
Theordo’s black aura was stopped by the curtain of mist.
To be sure, since it had been unleashed right in front of him, it had an effect.
The solid curtain was shaking quite violently, after all.
But that was all.
In the end, it had not split it apart. It had failed to pierce through.
Then they were back where they started.
Ataolf slowly turned around and met the eyes of the knight of death.
— I see.
Crrrk— Even as the black curtain of mist and the aura formed of death energy continued their contest of strength, Ataolf’s voice remained unchanged.
— Hio Pavlenko. So this was your final move.
Black mist rushed in around Theordo in an instant.
His body, hidden by it, gradually began to disappear from sight.
— A knight of death… The legendary knight said to have been wielded by the mages of old.
As he calmly uttered those words, the black mist wrapped around Theordo’s body.
And then.
Crack— Cr-crack— The sound of something breaking came from within.
— Yet it is nothing more than an exaggerated relic of the past.
The horrible sound of Theordo’s body being crushed by the black mist.
After a short while, the mist fell silent once more.
The black mist slowly dispersed, and nothing could be seen within. The knight who had been locked in a contest of strength with the black mist had vanished.
The knight of death had been crushed by the black mist and scattered without even leaving a form behind.
— There is a reason things are weeded out.
Ataolf slowly turned around again.
Now he had removed even Hio Pavlenko’s final move.
In the long years he had lived, how many deaths had he witnessed? How many had he carried out?
It had been easy enough to predict that an opponent of that caliber would be hiding one final move.
He looked at Hio’s expression.
What kind of face would he make?
Resignation? Despair?
Or would he burn with fighting spirit, insisting he would not give up until the very end?
Just like so many others had done before their deaths.
— …I see.
Ataolf, having turned to look at Hio, spoke belatedly.
The Hio Pavlenko reflected in his eyes was—
— You are smiling.
He was smiling.
Not with the slightest pretense or bravado, but with a genuine smile.
— What is so amusing?
At that, Hio looked up at the staff in his hand and spoke in a low voice.
“A relic of the past. Weed out.”
He had laughed at those words.
Was it not absurd?
A vanished history.
A forgotten war that no one remembered.
The deeds of heroes that must have been countless, their noble sacrifices.
At the end of those sacrifices lay the loss of magic.
“To watch you mock it, without knowing what price was paid so that you could live and breathe…”
How amusing it was.
At that, Ataolf spoke again.
The black mist rippled, spreading his grotesque voice across the space.
— I see. Hio Pavlenko. Is this the result of the magic you praise so highly?
Even at a glance, the aura he gave off was not the same as before. His mana must be nearly exhausted as well.
Ataolf had thoroughly blocked even his final move.
What more could he possibly do now?
— What has been weeded out has been weeded out. Hio Pavlenko.
That was simply the way of things.
Before death, such things were meaningless.
There was no meaning in the convictions shouted by the weak.
The black mist moved.
At the same time, Hio’s staff moved.
“As I thought, you know nothing.”
The dark night sky.
The space shrouded in black mist.
And within it, his vision grew even darker.
— What…
Sensing an ominous presence, Ataolf called in all the black mist.
“What was weeded out was not magic.”
And yet the space did not brighten.
A vast presence approached, heavy and immense.
“It was humanity, after losing magic.”
「Skill — ‘Summon Grim Reaper’ has been activated.」
A massive Grim Reaper appeared directly before Ataolf.
Its red eyes flashed in the darkness, its ghostly gaze looking down at Ataolf.
And the Grim Reaper’s red scythe stopped right in front of Ataolf’s neck.
— ……
Ataolf froze, unable to move even an inch.
He had clearly called in all the black mist and defended himself without leaving a single opening, yet like a ghost, the Grim Reaper’s scythe had appeared before his throat.
“I’ll tell you one more thing, Ataolf.”
Hio spoke again to Ataolf.
“A knight of death…”
Behind Ataolf, gray energy surged once more. Death energy.
It gathered together, forming a familiar shape.
Larger than before.
Even more intense than before.
“…is called a knight of death because it does not die.”
Black light flared in the eyes once again.
Kwaaaang—!
The pitch-black sword aura that shot high into the sky collided with the black mist.
* * *
Kwaaaang—!
A roar like heaven and earth shaking.
“Tsk, tsk…”
At that, Vitalianus clicked his tongue briefly.
“That’s not it.”
Having entered the Academy in an instant, he looked up at the sky.
It was difficult to see clearly because of the black mist, but to the great Sword Saint, something as trivial as that mist was no obstacle. He could see through it plainly.
Kwaaaang—!
The sound rang out again.
The sound of aura forged from death colliding with Ataolf’s black mist.
Vitalianus focused even more intently and peered into the mist.
A golden aura shimmered in his eyes.
“That… must be the mage’s doing.”
On the rooftop of a tall building.
An inhuman being continuously spewed out a grotesque energy. It was an unfamiliar and immense presence, one he had never felt before.
How peculiar. Anything strange or odd was bound to be the work of a mage, and so he concluded as much.
And leaping across the rooftops of those buildings, he also saw a knight of death unleashing streams of black sword aura.
Kwaaaang—!
At that point, Vitalianus clicked his tongue once more and slowly drew his sword.
“I can’t bear to watch any longer.”
He revealed the presence he had been concealing.
The presence of the golden lion gradually swelled.
Only then did the gazes of the three figures fighting across the sky turn toward the ground.
“That is not how it is done.”
Vitalianus lightly swung his sword.
Yet the result was anything but light.
From the tip of that sword, swung as if in jest, erupted a massive golden aura.
“You cannot cut it just by stubbornly thrashing about with brute force.”
It split the black mist.
Becoming a golden wave, it cleaved the mist covering the sky cleanly in two.
“You must infuse it with intent. That mist cannot be pierced by ordinary aura.”
The golden aura brightly illuminated the night sky and the black mist.
The three looked down, and Vitalianus looked up.
He swept his gaze over each of their faces.
“Now I can see properly. There are many familiar faces here.”
His gaze first turned toward the knight of death, who was wreathed in black aura.
“Inflexible knight. Take well to heart what I just said.”
Next, he looked toward the mage, who still wore that ridiculous hat.
“I see. So the mage was here too. Just when I thought I was getting used to you, your attire has become even more extravagant.”
Finally, his gaze turned to the opposite side.
“And…”
Vitalianus’s expression sank deeply.
“My hateful old friend.”
Killing intent surged throughout his body.
Golden aura burst forth like an explosion.
* * *
Claire stared blankly in the direction where the Sword Saint had disappeared.
She was not the only one.
Roland and Ravena were the same.
Ravena muttered in a daze.
“…It’s my first time seeing Lord Vitalianus in person.”
Roland, beside Ravena, muttered along with her.
“Me too…”
At some point, the two had become rather well matched.
“You’re so lucky, Claire… You even got to talk to Lord Vitalianus.”
“I know. Even though you’re just lowly Claire…”
Normally, Claire might have reacted to the two of them, but she, too, was half out of her mind.
Vitalianus Mahel, the empire’s guardian knight and the emperor’s guardian knight.
The knight among knights who had earned the title of Great Star. The Sword Saint.
The shield that protected the empire, and its sharpest sword.
Meeting such a being was something even most nobles would consider an honor.
“But… who was the mage the Sword Saint mentioned?”
“A mage? Those are all frauds. Aren’t they only in storybooks?”
“That’s true, but Lord Vitalianus wouldn’t say nonsense.”
“That’s also true.”
Listening to Ravena and Roland’s conversation, Claire began to walk.
“Claire? Are you going back in?”
Toward the inner part of the Academy, where the Sword Saint had walked—no, where he had vanished almost as if flying.
“Yeah. I want to go see.”
“Insane Claire. You still haven’t come to your senses.”
Roland frowned.
“Then I’ll go too!”
Ravena attached herself to Claire’s side.
“Lord Vitalianus went, didn’t he? Won’t it be resolved soon?”
At that, Roland’s eyes wavered sharply.
“Is… is that so…?”
The truth was, she was curious too.
No, who would not be curious?
How many people had ever seen the great Sword Saint, the empire’s guardian knight, personally wield his sword?
She wanted to see it, even from far away.
In the end, Roland was persuaded as well, and as the three girls began making their way into the Academy—
“…Aaah!”
A presence suddenly appeared again.
“Oh dear, I startled you. Sorry.”
A brown-haired man grinned, and around him stood close to ten people.
Among them, the brown-haired man asked Claire with an affable smile.
“I heard a familiar name as we were passing by. Did the captain… no, did Lord Vitalianus pass through here, by any chance?”
“If you mean the Sword Saint… yes. He passed by. Really quickly.”
At that answer, the brown-haired man let out a deep sigh.
“I told him we should go together. Honestly…”
There were ten men and women, each with a strikingly distinct presence.
Yet despite their splendid appearances, they were all dressed the same.
White uniforms embroidered with golden thread.
A common emblem placed on the left breast.
“…No way?”
A brilliant emblem of a golden sword piercing the sky.
Realizing what it was, Roland covered her mouth with both hands.
“The Royal Knights!”
The empire’s strongest armed force, said to obey only the emperor’s commands.
Roland, unusually excited, asked the brown-haired man,
“Did you come to rescue us?”
The man, presumed to be one of the Royal Knights, gave an awkward smile and answered.
“No… well, we did set out after receiving a different mission…”
“Damon. Stop saying unnecessary things.”
“…Right.”
At the words of a woman with a cold impression, the man—Damon, a member of the Royal Knights—straightened from where he had bent down.
He glanced at the other Royal Knights heading into the Academy, then quietly whispered to Claire and the others.
“The truth is, there’s someone incredibly important inside, and our mission was to escort that person.”
“Someone incredibly important… Lord Vitalianus?”
“No, that’s our captain.”
“Then…?”
The Royal Knights who had gone ahead urged Damon on.
“Hurry up!”
At that, Damon hurriedly ran toward them and called back,
“Well, you’ll find out soon enough.”