TROWFT 09

Chapter 09

An army without a commander is like a ship without a captain.

That’s how dangerous it is.

‘So I arrived after riding like mad for four days.’

And this is the treatment I receive.

What blocked the exhausted Berwen Knights from their forced march was not the enemy, but our own allies—the Hessen Count’s house.

‘I’m speechless. I came all this way to help.’

In case the territory’s residents might feel anxious, I and the Berwen knights were wearing robes.

The robed group of knights turned their horses away from the wall.

“What did they say?”

“Well…”

One of the returning knights hesitated, then spoke.

“They said we have to pay a toll.”

“Did you make it clear that you’re knights?”

“…Yes.”

“And that we’re here to help them?”

“…Yes.”

Ha. Are they insane?

I wanted to just turn back and let things be, but thinking of the innocent residents, I rode toward the wall.

“I told you before! No toll, no passage!”

“How much is it?”

“1000 gallons!”

1000 gallons—that’s a year’s living expenses for an average household!

‘I could just pay it and go, but…’

Normally, that’s just a way of saying “don’t come in.”

“Who established this law?”

“Our Count did!”

“Count Hessen said that?”

At my words, the soldier swung the spear in his hand.

‘This place is rotten too.’

Just from the way he held the spear, I could tell he wasn’t a knight but a soldier dressed in knight’s armor.

“Count? You must want to die. Is the Count your friend or something!”

“He’s not my friend, but…”

In the blink of an eye, the sword that emerged from my robe reached the soldier’s neck.

I didn’t want to use such an extreme method, but…

‘It’s the most effective.’

There was no time to explain everything one by one.

“You could say I’m his superior.”

“What?”

“This person is the Duke of Berwen.”

The knight beside me quietly signaled.

“That’s ridiculous!”

Even while being threatened by a sword, he seemed utterly unconvinced. I let a faint aura emanate from my blade.

Aura is the mark of a Swordmaster.

Seeing the light enveloping the sword, the soldier knelt.

“I-I’m sorry. Lately there have been many impostors posing as knights…! I was only following the Count’s orders—”

“Yes, I understand. Just open the gate.”

When the top is rotten, the bottom rots too.

Too tired to speak, I just waved my hand.

As the disciplined soldier opened the gate—

‘They sold off the gate…?’

I was speechless.

A gate that normally required four people to open was being opened by a single person.

Looking closely, the gate was very thin. Just for show. That’s what it was.

“The gate…”

The Berwen knights who grasped the situation exchanged glances with each other.

Seeing them, I lowered my voice.

I hadn’t practiced acting for five years for nothing.

“Right now we’re in a war. Do you not know what’s important?”

A stern and dignified voice emerged.

I made it clear with my tone that this matter could be handled after the war.

“Yes.”

Thankfully, the knights agreed.

Even after that, as I led the knights across the county, I felt it. Something was wrong.

The closer we got to the border with Bahat, the more refugees there were.

I felt sorry for the residents, but…

‘It looks like we’re losing.’

Why are ominous premonitions always right?

As soon as we arrived at the border wall—

“Your Grace, you’ve come!”

The knights who had departed from Berwen territory and already arrived explained the situation.

“…So many wounded?”

Looking at the wounded and medics moving about everywhere, I shifted the sword in my hand.

A thick atmosphere of defeat hung over the battlefield.

“What’s the reason?”

“They say Count Hessen conscripted the territory’s residents into the war.”

“Aren’t those regular troops out there?”

“He disbanded the army due to cost issues.”

Ha. I’m losing my mind.

“So the actual fighting force right now is essentially…”

“Just us.”

Then the ones suffering outside right now are also all Berwen knights.

‘This isn’t support—this is a hard carry!’

Why does this remind me of group projects from university?

“Open the gate.”

As I approached in my black robe, the Hessen Count’s soldier just rolled his eyes, not knowing what to do.

“Hurry.”

This time too, like an obsessive, I just lowered my voice and pointed my sword.

The reason was the same as before.

There was no time to waste!

“Y-yes, sir!”

Watching the gate open quickly, I briefly thought:

So this is why obsessives live the way they do.

It’s pretty convenient, isn’t it?

*Creak—*

Still, the border wall required four soldiers at the pulleys.

Through the opening, the scent of the battlefield grew stronger.

The acrid smell that stung my nose, and the stench of blood.

I still can’t get used to it.

Amidst the sounds of soldiers straining to lower the drawbridge—

*Neigh—!*

My black horse, excited by the smell of blood, snorted.

Watching the drawbridge slowly descend, I was calming the horse when—

“It’s not all the way down yet…”

When the drawbridge was halfway down, I spurred my horse forward.

The muscular black horse climbed the sloped drawbridge and accelerated as it ran out.

*Thud—*

The horse, briefly airborne, landed lightly on the ground.

At the same time, the robe I was wearing was blown away by the wind, revealing my armor.

‘What a dramatic entrance, right?’

Even I find this a bit embarrassing.

‘Well, I’ve been taking obsessive lessons for five years now. Five years.’

Rosalyn didn’t just teach me facial expressions—she had me internalize exactly how to act in every detail.

Meaning I was trained so that every single action I took would look impressive.

‘Ah. How embarrassing.’

It felt like my body was being controlled by the concept.

Others might not know, but I was embarrassed as I drew my sword from its sheath.

‘It’s not like Shaviyan is even watching anyway. Why am I trying so hard! Why!’

Even as I screamed internally, I began to ride forward gracefully.

—

***—

And Lewin probably didn’t know, but Shaviyan was watching that sight very clearly.

A little before he spotted Lewin crossing the drawbridge.

Shaviyan was blankly gazing down at the canyon below.

His nose tip was red from too much crying. His wrists were bound with silk.

He looked like he had escaped from somewhere. And that was exactly the case.

*’It’s troublesome, just take him with us.’*

*’Your Highness!’*

*’He’s going to be handed over as a prisoner anyway. What’s the difference between a battlefield and a palace?’*

In the dead of night, Shaviyan, wrapped in cloth, was loaded onto a carriage and brought here.

Taking advantage of the lax security in the tent where he was confined, he escaped.

He eventually reached a dead-end cliff.

A sheer cliff, and below it, a fierce battle was raging.

Then.

The drawbridge opened, and a figure riding a glossy black horse burst out.

‘It’s the Duke of Berwen!’

The black horse that soared gracefully landed with precision.

The fluttering black robe fell away, revealing solemn and majestic black armor.

‘The Black Knight.’

The Black Knight. The Grim Reaper of the battlefield.

The Duke of Berwen, bearing such a fearsome reputation, raced across the battlefield.

‘Wow.’

The moment the Duke appeared, the tide of battle changed.

Taking the lead for the Hailen side, which had been pushed back, the Duke ignited an aura from his sword.

With one swing of his silver aura—

The arrows that had been aimed at Hailen’s soldiers were sliced and rained down like a shower.

‘…Magnificent.’

A silver aura, as gentle and noble as moonlight.

A dazzling radiance rippled around the Duke, impossible to look away from.

“……”

Shaviyan rubbed his eyes under his blindfold several times, trying to capture the sight.

The emotion that rose in Shaviyan’s crystal-like eyes was—

Admiration.

—

***—

And at that same time.

Kellian was lying in the shade of a tree near the battlefield.

He leisurely stroked the black panther that rested its head on his hand.

The panther purred like a cat, pleased.

“Your Highness. You must return to the capital now.”

Kellian ignored his annoying subordinate and closed his eyes.

A red shirt was loosely draped over his lightly tanned skin.

But even this beggar-like appearance, when worn by Kellian, was the very image of the god of battle.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“Pardon?”

“The face of the man the Hailen Emperor is obsessed with.”

Kellian’s lips curved into a bow.

“Your Highness. Those two are just old friends—”

“Friends.”

Kellian half-opened his eyes and tilted his head to the side.

His gaze flashed sharply.

“You start a war with another nation over a friend?”

Through the open luxurious shirt, Kellian’s well-defined abs moved with his words.

“…He’s truly insane.”

Just as the subordinate, standing before a madman even madder than that—Kellian—was about to speak again—

“Your Highness!”

A knight stopped so abruptly he nearly fell from his horse.

The knight, landing on the ground as if dismounting in a hurry, knelt on one knee.

“The Duke of Berwen has arrived! He’s engaging in battle right now, and the Second Prince’s forces are being pushed back heavily!”

“Is that so?”

Kellian flicked his red shirt aside and rose to his feet.

Then he mounted the horse the messenger had ridden.

“Your Highness! You must not go!”

The subordinate standing beside Kellian hurriedly mounted his own horse to follow him.

“You—immediately gather the knights at the Second Prince’s camp. The Second Prince must never find out that His Highness is here!”

The subordinate gave the order to the messenger and chased after the rapidly disappearing Kellian.

In the first place, Kellian shouldn’t have been here. Wasn’t this the war he had designed for the Second Prince to lose!

If he were to be caught—

“Why are you here, brother?”

“I came to support.”

“In that getup?”

So they did meet.

Seeing the Second Prince face to face with Kellian, the subordinate lowered his head.

No one would believe Kellian’s shameless words, but—

“Just keep running like you were.”

The Second Prince wasn’t in a honorable position either.

He had been in the middle of abandoning his army and fleeing.

And before he could make excuses, Kellian was already racing toward the battlefield.

“So that’s the Duke of Berwen.”

Just like the saying that even ten thousand men cannot stop a single Swordmaster, the battlefield was dominated entirely by one person.

The Duke precisely found and cut down the knights, and as the knights fell, the command structure crumbled and the soldiers scattered in confusion.

“Haha. So that’s what was strange.”

Kellian watched the Duke, who only cut the knights’ tendons, and laughed.

‘Not cutting off their hands, but precisely just the tendons.’

Kellian knew well how troublesome that was.

The reputation that the Duke of Berwen’s combat style was cruel—that usually came from nobles or knights.

‘I heard he captures enemy commanders and leaves them half-crippled.’

He thought it was intentional. To showcase his fearsome reputation.

Even though a Swordmaster could just blow them away with aura.

He could just slaughter them all, but instead he captured the enemy nation’s commanders and precisely destroyed only their tendons so they could never wield a sword again.

‘I thought he was someone with a black heart.’

But then the Duke looked around, as if searching for someone.

Now his intention was clear.

He was trying to capture the Second Prince as a prisoner and end this war.

Because that was the way to cause the fewest casualties.

‘Maybe he’s a gentle lamb instead.’

Kellian became intensely curious about the face hidden beneath that helmet.

What face lies hidden within?

“I will reward whoever removes that man’s helmet.”

Kellian said, a hint of a smile hanging on his lips.