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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 220: The aroma of the tea was bitter (1)

Chapter 220: The aroma of the tea was bitter (1)

A horse fell on​‍⁠ the plain where⁠ the blue moon⁠‍⁠ rose.

With​ a solid silver​​ line powerfully drawn.​⁠

The‌ two shadows that⁠ had finally met⁠‌ crossed in an⁠‍⁠ instant, and all‍⁠ that was left‍​⁠ for the one​​ left behind was‍ to fall to‌⁠ the cold ground.​⁠‍

Boom!⁠‍⁠

With​‍ a thunderous noise,​​ the snowflakes on‌‍ the ground rose‌​⁠ again to the⁠‌​ sky.

For⁠ the Arnstein knights‌​ running behind, it​ was a scene⁠ that looked like⁠ a fountain of‌⁠‌ white snow.

“I⁠​⁠ hate you guys.”‍

-······!‌

Where‍‍‌ a phantom horse‍‌‌ ran, now a black horse ran.⁠‍

The​ horse’s erect horn⁠‌⁠ was filled with‍‍​ the cold color⁠‍‍ of winter.

“So​ much so that‌ I want to​⁠ cut off your​‍​ heads again.”

The​‍ world we encounter⁠‌ must be chosen.⁠‌

Will‌‍​ we be together,​ or will we⁠ trample each other’s​⁠​ world?

And⁠ Vlad had already​‍ decided which choice​​‌ he would make.‌‌

-You‍ insolent bastard!

-You‍⁠⁠ brat who doesn’t​‌ value your life!​‍

The⁠​​ Headless Knights, who⁠‌‍ understood Vlad’s decision,​ quickly extended their‌‌⁠ swords, but Vlad‌‍ was no longer‍​⁠ there.

-No······.‍

What‌ was there was‌ only a shadow‍‌‌ left by the​​ black horse.

This‍​​ was because Noir’s‌ movements deceived even⁠ the experienced knights,​⁠ and he escaped​ the scene before⁠​ they realized it.‌​‍

Heeeeeee-!‍

Until⁠ a moment ago,‌‍‍ the center of⁠​​ gravity was leaning⁠ to the right,​ but the shadow​​​ of the black​ horse had already‍‍‌ moved to the‍ left.

The‌​‍ tips of the‍‍‌ extended swords in‌ that dazzling movement​​ trembled, with no‍ place to go.‍​

“Where‍‌‌ are the children?”⁠⁠

-Aaaah!‍‌

Each‍‍ time a silver‍​​ line was drawn,‍ without fail, the​‍‍ running horses stumbled,‍⁠​ and fountains of​​ white snow began‍ to form.

It‍ was a land⁠ that had tried⁠ not to be​​‍ trodden until now,⁠​ but there was‌ no mercy in⁠ the tip of​‌ Vlad’s sword, and​⁠​ indeed, the Headless‍‌​ Knights who had​​ been lying on⁠ the ground for‍ a long time‌‌ could not get⁠​‍ up.

“Where⁠‌ did you take​‍ them?”

Noir‍ gradually began to‌ accelerate, trampling the⁠​ knights who fell‌​‌ one by one.⁠

The​​​ unicorn blood flowing‌‍ through Noir was⁠ the blood that⁠‍⁠ would not allow‍ any being to‍⁠ run in front‌‍ of him.

Even⁠⁠ if those beings‌​ were things that‍​ had escaped death.​⁠

-Damned!​‍​

Cutting⁠​‍ one, crushing another,‍‍ and knocking down⁠⁠​ yet another.

And‌ so, Noir began⁠​ to hit his⁠‍‌ shoulder roughly against‍ the Headless Knight‌ who finally caught⁠‌ up with him.⁠

Other​​⁠ horses were sinister‍⁠‍ ghost horses that‍‍‍ didn’t even want⁠ to get close,​‌ but those things⁠​ didn’t seem to‍⁠‍ matter to Noir,‍‌ the son of⁠ the plains.

Boom!‌

“…I‌⁠ guess hitting anyone​ is the standard​‍ way of looking⁠​ for someone.”

-What?‌‍

Vlad,‌​ who was clinging‌ to the man,​ suddenly held the​​ reins tightly in⁠ his hands.

However,​ the reins were​‌ not Noir’s, but‌‍ the old reins‍‌‌ the Headless Knight​‌ was supposed to​ hold.

“So,‌ why don’t we⁠‌‌ talk a bit?”⁠​‌

-······!‌

Crack!‌‍

At​ that moment, with‍​‍ a creepy sound​ of armor breaking,​‍​ the Headless Knight⁠ began to stumble‍ noisily.

However,‌⁠ the stumble was​‍​ not caused by‌‍ the sword piercing⁠​‌ the body, but‍‍ by Vlad’s movements,‌‍​ which were very⁠ heavy.

-Puaj!‌⁠

Vlad‌⁠ jumped onto the⁠​ phantom horse without​​ hesitation, grabbed the‍​‍ Headless Knight, and‌ started pushing him‌‍⁠ off.

With​ the dragon-slaying sword‍ still in one⁠​‌ hand.

The​ silver sword that​ pierced the black‍​⁠ armor seemed to‌‌‌ shine even more‍ today.

“Aaaah!”‌

Two⁠⁠⁠ knights fell from‍ their horses faster⁠ than anything else.‍⁠

The⁠ sensation of floating​‍ was dizzying enough‌⁠ to make even⁠ the dead scream,‍ but unlike the⁠⁠⁠ Headless Knight who⁠ simply fell helplessly,‌‌ Vlad had solid‌​‌ armor he could⁠‌ rely on.

Thud!​‌ Boom! Thud!

The‌‍ armor that the⁠‌​ elves created and‌ the dwarves forged.‍

Although⁠‍⁠ it rolled noisily,‍ the winter plains‌​‍ rolling along with‍​​ the worlds they‌​ shared seemed to⁠⁠⁠ show a slightly​‌​ softer side of‌ Vlad.

“…What‌ an incredible thing.”‍‍‌

Rodrigo​​‌ and Arnstein’s knights,‌‌​ who had been⁠ following for a while, were also​‌ watching the scene.‍⁠⁠

A silver light shone‌ between two knights‌⁠‌ rolling noisily as‌​ if a landslide⁠⁠ had occurred.

Although‌ it was a disaster, Rodrigo saw⁠⁠ that the light‌‍​ kept shining and⁠‌‌ trusted that he‍‌‌ had found the‌⁠ right person.

***​

“Good‍‌ job. Sir Vlad‌‌ Aureo.”

The⁠⁠‌ weather outside was⁠​ cold, but the​‍ warmth of the‌​​ fire in the⁠ fireplace was comforting.⁠‍

For⁠ Vlad, who had‍​ been rolling in⁠‍ the snow until‍​ recently, the warmth​ was necessary.

“Thank⁠ you, Count.”

Vlad,‍‌​ wrapped in a blanket, snorted when⁠⁠⁠ he saw the​‌ steam silently rising‌ from the cup‍ of tea.

It‍⁠‌ was tea delivered​‍​ directly by Count‌⁠ Arnstein, the leader‍ of the central⁠‍​ region, but Vlad’s‍​‍ expression as he⁠⁠ looked at the​‍‌ tea seemed to‌​‌ show a hint‌⁠‌ of disappointment.

“Did⁠ you rescue the⁠⁠ children?”

“Those‌‍‌ who were there.”​

“…I​⁠ see.”

It​​‌ must be a night when you‍‍ need hot alcohol​​​ instead of warm⁠ tea.

However,‍ Vlad, who had‍‍​ no intention of​ rejecting the Count’s‍⁠​ favor, accepted the‍ tea in silence​‌ and frowned.

“I‍‌ thought it was​ something suspicious, but‌ I didn’t expect⁠ someone so powerful‌ to be involved.”​‌

The‌ Count’s expression as‍‌ he drank his​ cup of tea‌‍ was full of‌‌​ worry that he‌ couldn’t hide.

That’s⁠ because there were‍​ many Headless Knights‍ who fell, but‌ the only one⁠ left was pierced‍ by Vlad’s sword.‍‍

The‍​⁠ other men had‌⁠ already fallen into‌⁠ the black circle⁠ and disappeared without​ a trace, just⁠ like in the‍‍ previous village full​​ of fog.

“It’s⁠ a pretty curious‌ sword. My wizard⁠ assumes that your⁠‌ sword has caused​ these phenomena.”

“Is‍ that so.”

Count⁠​‍ Arnstein was making‌ a strange expression‍ as he looked​ at the silver‍⁠‍ sword Vlad held.‍

Rodrigo‌ hasn’t told him‍ yet, but if‍⁠ he discovers that‌ Vlad’s sword is⁠‌​ believed to belong‌ to the Silver​ Knight, his attitude‍‍ would change.

“By​​‍ the way, did⁠​⁠ something like this‌‍​ also happen in‍ the city of‍‍‍ Moshiam?”

“That’s⁠‍ right. Count.”

The​ tragedy that happened‌​ in the distant‍⁠ northern city was‍‍‍ just a rumor​‍‌ in the central‌‌‌ region.

However,​ Count Arnstein was​ now in a position where he​ had to desperately⁠⁠ search even for​​‌ the rumor that‍ was spreading.

“I​ don’t know what⁠‌⁠ it is, but​​‍ it seems like⁠‍ something grand has‌ happened.”

Pablo​‍‍ was silently making‌⁠ eye contact behind​‌​ the Count, who‌ was stroking his​ chin as if‌⁠ it hurt.

Although‍⁠‍ he couldn’t show‌​​ his joy due‌‌​ to the gravity​‌ of the situation,⁠ he was the‍‌ one who pulled​‌ Vlad out of⁠‍‍ the snow with​‌ his shield.

“A‌​⁠ sinister entity that⁠ consumes an entire​ city…”

Incidents‌‍ like this did​‍⁠ not occur at‍ all in the​⁠‍ long history of⁠‍ the empire.

At‌‍ any time, evil‍⁠ beings lurked in‌ the darkness and​​ worked in secret,‍‍​ and the people‌⁠‌ who had to​ resolve the situation​​⁠ each time were‌​⁠ the emperors and⁠‌ lords, the landowners.​

“…You‍‌​ arrived at a troublesome time. Just‍⁠ now.”

However,‌‍ unlike before, now‌​⁠ is a time​⁠​ when the foundations‍⁠ of power are‌ more shaken than‌‍⁠ ever.

For​‍ Count Arnstein, who‌​ had to worry‌‍‌ not only about‌‍​ the movements of⁠​ other lords in‌‍ contact with the​‍‌ territory but also⁠ about an unknown‍⁠ evil entity, another‍​⁠ burden was added.‌​⁠

“Why‍​ not invite the⁠⁠ Vatican priests? They‌ would be of‌ great help.”

“That‍⁠‍ would be another​​‍ problem.”

Vlad​ thought that even‌ the Vatican, with​ whom he had​ a difficult relationship,⁠ would have to​‌ lend its power⁠‍​ to resolve the​‍⁠ situation.

However,​ the Count’s soon-to-be-heard‍ response contained only​ another complicated situation‍‍⁠ that Vlad didn’t⁠​ know about.

“Why?”‍

“Because‌‌‌ I follow the⁠‍‌ Grand Duke.”

Grand‍ Duke or Duke‍ of the Dragon?​ The many territorial‍‍ wars in the‌ center were actually‍⁠ battles between the‍​ Grand Duke and‌​‌ the Dragon Blood‍ Duke.

And‍‌‍ since Count Arnstein,⁠​ whom Vlad was‌‍ now facing, was‍⁠ also a member‌⁠ of the faction⁠‍ following the Grand​⁠ Duke, it was‌ obvious that the​​ Vatican, which was‌ cooperating with the‍​ Dragon Blood Duke,‌ would probably not⁠ provide adequate support.​

“…Then,​‌⁠ at least for⁠​ the Northern Orthodox‍ Church.”

“That⁠‌ is even more​ unacceptable.”

The‍ Count’s eyes glowed​⁠ coldly as he⁠​ set down the‍⁠‌ teacup.

It​‍ was the true‌⁠‍ face of the‍⁠⁠ Count, with the‌ blue blood of​⁠ nobility shining through‍​‌ him.

“Turning‍​​ to the Northern​ Union is giving​​​ justification to other‌ lords. It would⁠ be like handing⁠‌ my body to‌‌ a pack of‍ wolves.”

“…”⁠

Vlad‌‍⁠ simply nodded and⁠‌ remained silent as‍​ he listened to‌‌​ the Count’s words.‍‍

The‍ firewood in the​‌‌ fireplace was burning​​⁠ intensely behind him,‌​​ and the steam​‍⁠ from the cup‍​ of tea rose​ in front, but‌⁠​ for some reason,⁠‌‌ Vlad felt the‌⁠ room getting colder.​⁠

“I‌ understand, Count. You⁠ are someone who⁠ has something to​ protect, so you‌ must take your‌⁠‌ actions seriously.”

“Thank‌‌ you for noticing.”⁠

The⁠ Vatican was a place where an⁠​‌ evil being roamed​⁠⁠ freely, but it‌‌ did not abandon‍‌⁠ the flow of‌ power.

Likewise,‌‌‌ Count Arnstein had‌ no intention of​‍‌ approaching the Northern‌ Orthodox Church.

If​ we separate them,‌‌ each person can‍ be right, but‍​‌ in the end,‍ only the powerless​ people will suffer‌‌ between them.

“The‍ tea is bitter.”​​⁠

It‍​​ was all bitter.⁠‍‌

Vlad⁠ could only swallow‍‌‍ bitter saliva thinking‍​ that the upper‌‍​ world he had‌⁠ worked so hard‍ to climb was​ ultimately nothing more‍⁠ than a dead‌‌ end.

***⁠​

Above‌ the east, two⁠‍​ elderly men walked​​​ with difficulty and‍ with their heads‌‌ bowed.

The‍​​ clothes they wore‌‍​ were disheveled, making⁠ them look like‍‍ beggars, but among​‍​ them, the tall‌ old man still‍⁠‍ had a bright‌⁠ light in his⁠‌‍ eyes.

“This‌‍‌ is…”

“Valetta.​​‍ Where you wanted‍ to be.”

Along‌‍⁠ with the brightening⁠‌ horizon, the people⁠‍​ who had been‌⁠‌ waiting until now‌‍ began to gather​ in front of‌ the castle gate⁠​​ that was slowly‌​ opening.

As​​ expected of a large, well-known city‍ in the central​‍​ region, it seemed‌​ full of travelers​⁠ and peddlers coming‍ and going.

“Thank​⁠‍ you for bringing‌ us here. You‌⁠ said your name⁠‌‍ was Sandor, right?”‌​‍

“…”‌‍

The​​ scarred man who​⁠ was guiding the‌ old men showed⁠‌ no emotion at⁠‌⁠ the old man’s​ words of gratitude.​

Even‌‌‌ the old man⁠‍ who spoke to‌ him wore an‍⁠ uncomfortable expression at‍⁠ the dullness of‍ the man, who‍‌ was harder than​​‍ black bread.

“Welcome⁠⁠‍ to the Northern‌‍ Alliance, Bishop Pedro.”‍‍​

A raven flew behind‍ the man as⁠ he slowly turned‍ around.

“I‍‍⁠ hope you act‌​ according to your‍⁠ reputation.”

Overlooking⁠ the city of‌​ Valetta, the old​ man and the‌‌ scarred man walked​​ away.

Bishop‍ Pedro, observing the​‌​ scarred man, supported⁠ another elderly man‌‍ who was coughing‍ slightly and began​⁠⁠ to walk towards⁠‍ Valetta.

“…As‌⁠ expected, I don’t​‍‍ like these northerners⁠⁠​ at all.”

A faithful servant of‌‌ God who does⁠‌ not regret the‍ path he has​ taken so far,‍ but who is⁠‍ unsure of the‍​ path that awaits​‌ him.

Bishop‍‍ Pedro began his‍⁠ arduous journey, not‌‍​ to follow the‌‌‌ Vatican or the⁠ Northern Orthodox Church,​⁠ but simply the‍ path to God.‍

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