30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

Ivan, recognizing the gravity of the situation, employed pragmatic methods to extract the information, his hand tensing as he steeled himself.

Facing him was a soldier who had bravely fought alongside Jill Ber, hinting at the dire consequences of the disclosed information.

The allegation of the Hero murdering a homeland guardian would undoubtedly incite violent repercussions, regardless of its veracity.

Ivan regulated his hurried breaths, scanning his surroundings. After already having cleared everyone around, and even after spending more time detecting any movement, the surroundings remained silent without even a breath.

No matter how worn out by battle fatigue and injuries one might be, a trained warrior can detect even the slightest breath of a passing field mouse.

There’s no one nearby. Ivan nodded calmly.

“From the beginning. Can you explain it again from the beginning?”

“Yes, I will explain again from after your descent, sir.”

The soldier swallowed hard, cautiously testing the waters.

*

The man’s name was Henri. He was a commoner without a surname, an exceptional individual who had risen even to the City Defense Army.

This was undeniable proof of his skill and loyalty. Therefore, it would not be unreasonable to assume that he possessed military prowess beyond the level of ordinary conscripts.

-Screaming noises-

“Block them! Block them, damn it! Martin! No!!”

“Michel, we must retreat!! We have to—!!”

Such things held no meaning on the summit of the Bernini Mountains that day.

Nobles, wealthy landowners, even knights, were all burning equally.

“Ahh—. Nooo—!!”

When the dragon swallowed his platoon leader and most of his comrades turned into piles of ash in the raging flames, this ordinary man lost his grip on his weapon.

His panicked vision was engulfed in a sea of red. Regardless of rank or status, everyone visible became fodder and left no corpses behind.

“Don’t retreat!! Raise your shields—!!”

Shouting thus, a knight clad in splendid armor rushed forward, beheaded one of the dragons, then was bitten by the dragon’s jaws hidden behind its wings and disappeared into the darkness.

A scream stretched across the sky then abruptly ceased. Almost simultaneously with the end of the scream, a thick forearm fell in front of Henri’s eyes.

It was an arm still wearing a gauntlet, blood still seeping from it. It belonged to the knight just moments ago.

“Run, run away— everyone, run away—!!”

Henri’s last will was a cry to save his comrades. And that was it. He had lost the will to continue the fight.

He stepped away from the front lines, heedless of the noises around him, lost in a daze.

The dragons didn’t bother targeting him. There were more prey clustered together on the ground in the darkness, making for easier meals.

Plunging blindly downwards, with his mind blanketed in a blinding white haze.

“Gasp, cough— Gasp!!”

How much time had passed? He was writhing on the ground, pinned to the earth. When he came to his senses, he saw the sun rising. There were no more screams, no more flames to be seen.

As he touched the ground with trembling hands, he finally realized that his left arm was missing from below the elbow. It had been burned and cauterized by the flames.

The dragon’s breath hadn’t just taken his comrades.

“Huuuh—. Huggh—!!”

Foaming at the mouth, he rose again and began to walk downward. Beyond the mountains, in an unknown direction, east or west. When the forest continued and he was no longer treading the mountain’s slopes.

At that moment, he finally looked out over the eastern plains of the Bernini Mountains.

The eastern plains, lit by the midday sun, stretched out with wide fields of wheat.

“Oh… Ohhh….”

Many people had died. The dragons had swallowed those mountains. Would the homeland guardians be safe? In a situation where most of the troops were lost and under sudden attack, could they really overcome the situation?

It was unknown. But if, if…

If they were defeated due to the absence of that one person, if, in the end, the dragons of the Bernini Mountains were unleashed.

“Jang, Philip, Simon, Thibault….”

Muttering the names of his fallen comrades, Henri stretched out his foot. The path lay open before him. Ahead, not far away, there was a village.

A small village of farmers. Deeply nestled in the mountainous region, without even a name on the map.

Many people had died.

“For the glory of Tylesse.”

“The death of the noble shall become the cornerstone of Tylesse.”

He recalled the oath he had often sworn. How moved he had been when he entered military service, shouting those words. A situation where the son of a poor villager could walk proudly in the defense of the city.

It would be an unprecedented success for the entire village where he was born and raised. With his salary alone, he could feed his entire family.

He was from such a poor village of farmers. Just like the village he saw before him now.

Truly, many people had died.

Those who had gathered to protect that field.

They had advanced forward to protect the landscape, only to die namelessly.

If that one absence had brought about defeat. If, thus, they could not stop the dragons of the Bernini Mountains. If the entire country were to burn like the summit of those mountains.

What then, would become of me? How would I live, how would I die?

When he came to his senses, Henri was climbing up the mountainside. A common man who had lost both his weapons and armor, he was crawling on the dirt, panting.

How much farther had he gone? The world was already plunged into darkness. Every time he heard the distant cries of beasts, he trembled with fear, yet continued to take one step forward until finally.

Finally, he reached the summit.

“Ah—.”

The battle had ended.

“My Lord… My, My Lord….”

The corpses were piled up like mountains.

“You have, you, you have achieved it….”

The bodies of the dragons filled the ravine that had collapsed.

The cursed valley from which the dragons had poured out was now buried with the corpses of those demons. Hills made of scaled bodies stood atop the summit.

Above them, bathed in moonlight. Half-burnt, a massive coat of arms fluttered.

The coat of arms of Etarique, adorned with deer antlers intertwined with swords and shields.

There were no other moving beings. The battle was over. All the troops had fallen, and all the enemies had been annihilated. It was a legend of total destruction.

Three thousand infantry, two hundred knights, and one hero.

That handful of forces had saved Tylesse.

The coat of arms trembled. Even in its burnt and tattered state, it received the moonlight. Unyielding, atop the bodies of the dragons.

Henri ran forward, his voice choked with sobs, and fell to the ground. He grasped the earth and crawled towards the bodies of the dragons.

On top of them sat a man, with his sword plunged in backward.

“Who goes there?”

“Henri… It’s Henri….”

“Ah, from the 7th Infantry Brigade of the Guard, right? Henri of Rollen. Excellent. Have you survived?”

“Y-You know me?”

“I personally handpicked members of the Guard Infantry and… cough! The Eastern Knights all by myself. Cough!”

Jill Ber coughed harshly and sat down hesitantly.

His coat of arms swayed in the wind as moonlight fell on his body. Finally, his condition was revealed.

“My Lord…!!”

It was a deep wound, with one arm lost and internal organs exposed. His helmet was nowhere to be seen, and a deep burn was visible under one charred lock of hair down to his neck.

His armor was melting in places due to the flames.

Jill Ber looked at Henri, who was sobbing, and chuckled.

“It’s noisy. There have been worse situations than this. Seems like you’ve thrown a hand or two yourself.”

Come closer. Henri trembled and bowed his head at Jill Ber’s gesture. He spoke, kneeling and murmuring.

“I betrayed My Lotd…. I did not fight… I fled from the battlefield. Please, please forgive me.”

“But you came back, didn’t you?”

“…Yes?”

“Without weapons, without armor, you still came back. Even with the intention to face the dragons barehanded. With soldiers like you in this country, this nation still stands so strong.”

Jill Ber raised his sword, illuminated by the moonlight. The tip of the sword was trembling.

The sword descended slowly. The blade lightly pressed against Henri’s shoulder. The chilly blade felt eerie near Henri’s neck.

But the trajectory was too delicate that sorrow arose before fear.

“Protect the weak, be loyal to your lord, dedicate yourself to the nation, and uphold justice… Only justice.”

“Yes…?”

“It’s an honorary title. Henri of Rollen. Since you survived till the end, I will say you are stronger than these vermin. The Eastern Knights have always been a gathering of the strongest knights, you. Will Henri pledge?”

“…My Lord… I-I cannot… I am not worthy….”

“If I had it, wouldn’t you have it too? In this world, no one, except for heroes, has the right to claim strength. Only belief.”

Believing in one’s strength, not boasting to be strong.

So, with that strength, standing in the eyes of the weak and dedicating oneself to them.

Always embracing justice, only justice. Advancing with one’s own righteousness as a beacon, even in the valley of fear, despair, and death.

That is a knight. Will you accept this honor?

Henri, listening to Jill Ber’s words, nodded tearfully.

Jill Ber smiled and lightly tapped his forehead with the hilt of his sword.

“Now your name is that of a knight. Take my sword and…”

*Swoosh…*

The wind blew. The coat of arms swayed tautly, casting long shadows once more. The moonlight was obscured. Clouds rolled in, covering the sky.

Jill Ber stopped speaking and glanced at the sky for a moment. He held the sword backward and placed it in Henri’s hand.

After closing his eyes for a moment and steadying his rough breath.

“Run.”

When he opened his eyes again, the Homeland Guard was looking beyond the forest with sharp eyes.

Under the oppressive pressure as if his flesh were being torn, Henri staggered to his feet, crawling as if fleeing.

“My Lord…”

The last sight he saw was a man walking out from the edge of the forest, bowing over Jill Ber.

After murmuring for a moment, the man raised his sword and struck down.

In the dazzling moonlight once again, with the radiant golden hair, unchanged from the statues that remained in Tylesse, from that time when they had faced the years without aging.

Maximiliann de Etualle the man who had been the hope of this country, the allied kingdoms, and humanity, stood there.

*

“Well done. Thank you.”

“W-What happens to me now…?”

“Do not speak of this to anyone. Jill Ber must become the symbol of this nation’s liberation from the clutches of demons and dragons.”

After the rumor spreads that the Hero killed the Homeland Guard, even if it’s just a rumor, there is no future for this country.

Could it still be said to exist? Well, in that case, this nation is truly finished.

The belief that a hidden Hero somewhere is still protecting this country is the only thing holding up the crumbling Tylesse.

At this moment when the king has personally executed his children and transferred the throne to the first prince, when all the Counts of Tylesse have been executed and the marquisates are boiling in chaos.

Now, as Etarique barely maintains its sovereignty, having become a legend, the actions of the Hero could potentially become poison. A toxin that there is no longer any future for this country.

Killing this man now is perhaps the safest way to avoid that fate.

However, this man is the last soldier saved by Jill Ber at the final moment. Ivan could never bring himself to kill this man with his own hands.

“Just knowing Jill Ber’s last wish is enough to earn respect. As long as the loyalty to Tylesse remains, you will never be judged.”

“Sir Yermov… Thank you, thank you…”

Leaving Henri sobbing, Ivan turned his back and left the sickroom.

As the quest draws near, there are two important secondary objectives.

Jill Ber’s ‘survival’ and the ‘encounter’ with Maximilian.

This probably means the opportunity to meet both men in one place. If so, if facing Maximilian with Jill Ber was the true goal of the quest…

“How to save the royal family of Tylesse…”

In that moment, Ivan blinked his eyes. He soon clenched his fist tightly, trembling.

Right. The reason I was told to protect the royal family of Tylesse.

Whether someone inherits the throne or not, as long as the bloodline of Tylesse remains…

“Odelia was connected to the royal bloodline.”

Survive facing Maximiliann with Jill Ber, rebuild the burning Tylesse in Jill Ber’s name to establish a new royal family… But was it still about rebuilding a royal family that still carried the bloodline of Tylesse?

That was the only way to prolong the existence of the United Kingdom for another ten years.

But isn’t it too malicious? Jill Ber was never someone to claim the throne himself. He would never act for the sake of honor alone.

This world is not kind to humans.

As if there is a great flow separate from individual human wills and intentions.

“I should go back.”

The story of Tylesse ended with a partial victory, but his pages are not yet finished.

So I must be prepared.

Never again let what happened in Tylesse repeat itself. No matter what. If the world is not kind, then I’ll tear down the enemies of this damn pre-modern fantasy world with my own hands if I have to.

Jill Ber, I will definitely fulfill your wish.

Open the way for the hero party. No matter what happens.

Ivan moved with lowered eyes. It was time to return to Crasylph.

Ep25. Farewell.

*

Epilogue. Hope.

Jill Ber watched as Henri left, then turned his gaze away.

A man was slowly walking out of the darkness of the forest.

The clinking of chains was heard along with the tapping of a staff on the ground. And the blindfold covering his eyes.

Even the smile drawn beneath it like a painting.

He knew the approaching man’s name, but still found it difficult to decide whether to call him by the name from that time he knew him.

“Max.”

“Jill.”

The man approached lightly, greeting. Under the overcast sky, he smiled serenely.

“Have you become a god?”

“I’m holding out.”

“How much longer?”

“Well, a few years perhaps. Or maybe a few months. It’s hard for me to be certain.”

“Hold out as long as possible. Just until the next generation is fully prepared.”

The man slowly approached and stood in front of Jill Ber. He looked silently down at the fallen Jill Ber with his eyes covered by the blindfold.

“Jill, can you move?”

“It’ll be difficult.”

Jill Ber chuckled as blood trickled out. Maxmilian, watching him, spoke in a low voice.

“You were supposed to be the hope that arose from the ashes of this country’s once burning remains. The one who would die in your place was not you.”

“If someone had to die, it should have been the old ones who left first.”

“Your stubbornness changed fate. I can only hope it was the right path.”

Maxmilian smiled quietly and lowered his head. Seeing him like that, Jill Ber suddenly spoke.

“I just have one question. I understand the seven dragon generals, but I never could figure out the demon king. What did you lose by killing him?”

“Hope.”

“Hah… Was that so? It suited him, being despair.”

Jill Ber coughed up blood. He soon nodded.

“Make it easy. It’s fortunate that it’s you in the end.”

“Any last words?”

“Tylesse… Odelia… And hope. What we lost, but undoubtedly left behind.”

“I’ll remember. Rest in peace, my old friend.”

-Snick.

The sensation of a friend’s last breath being cut off was nothing more or less than the blunt shock of severance.

Now, no emotion could stir the hand.

*

Thirty years have passed since the prologue.

Part 1 (End)

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