Star-Embracing Swordmaster — Chapter 296: Side Story – The Last Knight of the Founding King

Chapter 296: Side Story – The Last Knight of the Founding King

The‍‌ blue glow that⁠ had not yet‍ completely faded still‌‍ lingered at the⁠‍ edge of the⁠‍⁠ sky.

It‌ was an hour‍ when night had⁠⁠ not yet fully⁠‍ fallen.

Along⁠ the road that‍ crossed the prairie,‌ where the deep⁠ blue darkness slowly spread, a man‍ advanced.

“Emil!‍ Emil Aureo!”

He was a dark-skinned‌‌ man.

After‌⁠ receiving an urgent‌‍ message from the‍ Red Lady, he‌ had gathered the‍ members of the‍ caravan who were⁠‍⁠ in Varna and was now desperately⁠ searching for someone‍ while shouting in⁠ anguish.

“Emil!‍ Emil, Vlad’s son!”‌

The‌ stream of refugees⁠ coming from Sturma‍ seemed endless.

Seen‍ from afar, the crowd was so‌‍‍ immense that it⁠⁠ looked like a giant serpent twisting‍‍ across the plain.‍

Yet‍ Ned moved against‌ the flow of‌‌ people, calling the‌ boy’s name over‌‌ and over again.⁠‌‍

“I’m‍‍‍ looking for the‌‌ Swordmaster’s son! Rose’s⁠⁠‌ Smile will reward‌ any information, no⁠ matter how small!”⁠

It was a human‌‌ tide that could‌‌ not be stopped.‌

As‌‍‌ he fought against that current, the⁠‌ man’s body accumulated‍‍‍ small cuts and‍‌ injuries.

But‌ he continued shouting‌ the boy’s name‌⁠ as though none‍ of it mattered.‌⁠

“Emil!‌ Emil Aureo!”

Thinking‌‍ that this time it was his‍ turn.

When‌ he was a child, Vlad had‍‌ saved that dark-skinned‍ boy.

Just as Vlad had pulled him out‌⁠⁠ of the back‍‌‌ alleys back then,‌ Ned now wanted‌‌‌ to find Emil⁠ in that crowd⁠ and pull him‌ out as well.⁠

“Has⁠‍ anyone seen Emil⁠ Aureo?!”

“The‍ Swordmaster’s son! Emil‍⁠‌ Aureo!”

And⁠‌ perhaps it was‍ because Ned’s sincerity managed to move‍ the people.

Little‌ by little, more‌‌ people began calling‌‍ Emil’s name throughout‍⁠ the crowd.

“The Swordmaster is coming?!”⁠‍

“Sir‌‌ Vlad! Sir Vlad‌⁠ of Soara!”

One‍ person’s voice became⁠⁠⁠ a massive echo.‌⁠

Carrying⁠‍ anger.

Carrying‍⁠ sorrow.

Carrying‌⁠ fear.

The‌ gathered voices began⁠ to fill the⁠‍ roads of the North like the⁠‍ roar of a gigantic beast.

Rumbleee…⁠⁠‌

But⁠‍ the salvation they‍‍ were calling for‌ was far away.⁠⁠⁠

And⁠‌‍ the danger approaching‌‌‌ was already breathing‍⁠ down their necks.

“Aaaahhh!”‌⁠

“It’s⁠ an earthquake! Everyone⁠ get down!”

The⁠⁠ survivors of Sturma knew perfectly well‍ what those vibrations‌⁠ rising from the‍ depths of the⁠‌ earth meant.

The‌‌‍ gigantic dragon that‍‍ seemed to pierce⁠ the heavens.

Those⁠ who remembered the⁠ nightmare of Sturma‍ fell to their‍ knees and began‌ screaming once again.⁠

‘…Is‌ that the Deathworm?’‍‍

It⁠⁠ was a vibration‍⁠ so intense that‌‌⁠ it seemed to‍ shake the soul⁠ itself.

Ned‍⁠ had been shouting⁠ Emil’s name at the top of his lungs, but‌‌ even he could⁠ not withstand that⁠ tremor and ended‍ up dropping to⁠‍⁠ his knees.

Rumble!‌ Rumble! Rumble!

Beneath⁠‌ the sky illuminated‍⁠ by the Night‌ of Two Moons,‍ the northern prairies groaned.

And‍ the destination of‌‌⁠ that lament was‌‌⁠ Soara.

Toward‍ the brightest beacon‌ of the North.‍⁠

A dragon consumed by‍ greed opened its‌‌‌ jaws.

***‍

Tick.‌

Tick-tick.‍⁠

Tick.‍

An‍‌‍ unsettling metallic sound echoed through the‍⁠‌ fog-covered prairie.

It‌ came from an old, worn compass.‍

The hooded black mage‌‍ listened carefully to⁠‍ that sound.

“The‌ dragon… is approaching.”‍

It‌ was an artifact‍ capable of detecting⁠⁠‍ draconic energy.

Watching⁠ the needle climb‌ higher and higher,‍⁠‍ the black mage smiled in satisfaction.⁠‌

“Yes…‍‌‌ yes… come this⁠⁠‌ way.”

Each‌ time the needle‍‍ moved, the red⁠ glow of the‍‌⁠ magic circle pulsed‌⁠‌ like a heart.‍‍

And‍‌ so did the‌‍⁠ corpse of the‌ knight positioned at⁠ the center.

An‌ old nameless knight‍ who had chosen‍‍ an honorable retirement,‌‌ only to end‍‍⁠ up turned into‌‍ bait meant to lure a dragon.⁠‌⁠

Pierced through by a sword, he had‌⁠‍ before him a solitary honor coin,‌‍‍ earned over an‌ entire lifetime and now being used‌ as fuel for⁠‌ the magic circle.

Wheeeeeet!‌

“…What?”‌‌

Both‌⁠ the living and‍‍ the dead remained silent within the⁠⁠ prairie fog.

But‍ when he saw‌ the compass needle⁠‌⁠ suddenly leap upward,‌‍ the black mage⁠⁠ showed a surprised‌‍ expression.

“…What‍ is this?”

The‌⁠ Deathworm was still‌⁠ on the northern⁠ roads.

It⁠‌⁠ would need at‌⁠ least half a day to reach‍ this place.

And yet the dragon-detecting‍ artifact continued hammering‌‌⁠ frantically against the‍‍ edge of the‍ compass as though‍‍‍ warning of imminent danger.

Tap-tap-tap-tap!⁠‌

Suddenly,⁠⁠ footsteps echoed through‍⁠ the fog.

Light‌⁠‍ and swift footsteps.‍

One‍ of the assassins‌ reacted instantly and⁠⁠ assumed a defensive‍‌ stance.

But‌‌ it was already too late.

Thwip!

“Urgh!”‌

A dagger shot out‍ from the fog.‍‌⁠

It⁠‌ was a dagger‌‍ with the distinctive⁠‍ design of the‍ Southern Isles.

It‌ flew in a curved arc like⁠‍ a butterfly and‌ pierced the assassin’s⁠‍ knee.

“Die!”‍‌

Then something else appeared.⁠‌

A massive pole tore‌‍ through the fog.⁠‌

Crack!!⁠‍

It‌‌ was one of the main support⁠ poles of a tent.

Normally‌⁠⁠ it should have⁠⁠‌ been planted quietly‍ in the ground.⁠

But‍ when it came‌‌ flying with such‌‍‌ force, the assassin‌ could not withstand‍ the impact and‌‌ his neck snapped.‍

“That’s for my father!”‍‌

Hampton⁠ spat out those‍ words between heavy‌‌‍ breaths.

As‌⁠ expected of a member of the⁠ Kannor family, famous‍ for their sturdy‌‌ physiques, he wielded‌‌‌ that pole with‌ terrifying strength.

“We’re⁠‌ under attack!”

“Barbosa’s⁠ daughter is here!”‌⁠

The‍‌ assassins were momentarily‍‍ stunned when they‌ saw the children‌‍⁠ emerging from the⁠⁠ fog.

But‍⁠⁠ once they realized⁠ the children had‍ come to them‌‍ on their own,⁠ the assassin leader‌‍ grinned broadly.

“Well,⁠ well. Things are working out nicely!‌⁠ The fish are‍‌ swimming right into‍‍‌ our nets!”

His gaze shifted toward‍ Lenia, who stood‌ on the other⁠‍‌ side of the‌‌⁠ fog.

The‌‍ girl’s orange eyes‍ blazed with fury.‍‌

And‍‍‍ he liked that⁠⁠ even more.

“Capture‌⁠ her!”

The⁠‌ greater that fury,‍ the more gold‌ they would receive⁠ afterward.

The⁠‍ blood of Golden‌‌ Duke Barbosa was‍ worth that much.

“Whoever⁠⁠ catches her gets⁠‌ double! And if⁠‍‌ you bring her‍⁠ back alive, I’ll⁠ pay four times‍ as much!”

The‍‍ man who put‍⁠ a price on⁠ flowers that were⁠ still blooming had‌‌⁠ eyes shining without‍‌⁠ pause.

And⁠‌ the other assassins,‍‌‌ sharing his excitement,⁠ reacted in exactly⁠‌‌ the same way.‍⁠

“Move‍ aside! That brat⁠‍ is mine!”

“You‍ can kill the⁠ others!”

The‍ men blinded by gold charged toward‍ Lenia.

Seeing‍‌ them coming, Lenia bit her lips⁠ tightly and ran⁠ into the fog.‍

“Good,‍‍ good. Everyone is‍ so full of spi…”

Clang!‍

The‌⁠ men, completely focused‌ on Lenia, rushed‍ into the fog.

The‍⁠ assassins from the Southern Isles quickly began to spread⁠ out.

And⁠ taking advantage of⁠‌‍ that opening, a sword shot straight⁠‍‌ toward the group’s‌⁠ leader.

“…Hehe,‍ there was no‍‌‍ need for you‍‍⁠ to show up⁠‌ so soon.”

It⁠‍⁠ was a boy whose entire body⁠‍ was shining intensely.⁠

The‌⁠ yellow mole atop⁠ his head remained‌ motionless like a statue.

Anyone could recognize who‌ he was at‍‌ a glance.

“Emil‍‍‌ Aureo. I was‌ planning to take‌ you with me‌‌ anyway. You’re valuable‌ merchandise too.”

When‍‍ the leader spoke his name, the‍‍ bright boy’s eyebrows‌ twitched slightly.

Those‍ men thought only⁠‍ about the fruit‌ a flower would‌‍ bear once it‍ had withered.

But‌‍ the young swordsman‌ showed no disgust‍‍ toward the reality before him.

“Hyaaah!”⁠⁠

He⁠⁠⁠ simply swung his‌⁠ sword.

Clang!⁠ Clang! Clang!

A shrill sound erupted⁠⁠ as the two⁠⁠⁠ weapons collided.

It‍ was a contest‍ of strength against strength.

Realizing⁠⁠ he was at‍ a disadvantage, Emil‌ quickly retreated and‌ caught his breath.⁠

“For⁠ someone your age, you’re not bad⁠ at all. You’ve⁠‍ been trained quite‍‌ well.”

It‍⁠ had been a perfect strike.

But⁠‌ it had been‌ completely read.

The‍⁠ other children had⁠ created an opportunity⁠ for him, but‌ the assassin leader‍ was not someone‌‌ who would fall‍ for such simple‍ tricks.

“But‌ you’re too honest.⁠ That’s why little‍ brats raised in comfort are never‌‍ useful.”

Fwoosh!⁠

With‍‍ the tip of‌‌⁠ his foot, he‍‌ kicked up a cloud of dirt‌‍ straight at Emil.⁠

“…!”‌

It‌ was a trivial‌‌ trick.

But‍⁠ for Emil, it⁠‌ was an entirely‍⁠ new situation.

Startled⁠ by the dirt that blocked his⁠‍ vision, he took‌‌ a step back.⁠

However,‍‌ the leader had⁠ already closed the‌‍‌ distance.

Wham!‌ Crack!

“As‍ expected of a dragon’s body, you’re⁠ pretty durable!”

The⁠‌ violent attacks that‍‍ pierced his body‍⁠ from every angle‌⁠ made his footing falter.

Without‍ the spirit’s blessing,⁠ his organs would‍ have been shattered long ago.

“Damn⁠‌⁠ it!”

Under‌ that fierce assault,‌ the boy’s sword‌ seemed to have‌ lost its direction.‌

His‌⁠ movements were clumsy,⁠ almost like those⁠ of a drunkard.⁠

The surrounding assassins openly‌‌ laughed.

“Is that all you’ve⁠ got, Emil Aureo?”‍‍

Craaack!⁠‍

The‍⁠ leader’s kick landed‌ squarely.

The‍ glowing boy’s body⁠‌‍ shook helplessly.

Unable‍ to withstand the⁠‍ force of the‍‍‌ impact, he was‌ sent flying.

A groan escaped through‌ his blocked breathing.‌⁠⁠

“Urgh!”‌

He‍‌‍ couldn’t even break his fall properly.‍‍‌

He⁠ rolled miserably across the ground.

Even‍ so, he still⁠ clung to his‍ sword with all⁠ his strength.

The determination with which‍⁠⁠ he refused to‍ give up was‌⁠ almost admirable.

Creeeak!‍

“Ughhh…”‍‌‍

The‌⁠ leader began crushing‌ his hand beneath‌ his foot.

The‍‍ mole’s blessing was‍‌ still protecting him.‍

But‌ even it could‍‌ not counter pure‍⁠⁠ physical pressure.

Little‍⁠ by little, the⁠‌ hand gripping the sword began to‍‌‌ open.

“Hey,‍‍ mage. How much‍ did you say⁠‌ they’d pay for⁠ this kid?”

The‍‍‌ leader looked at‍ Emil like a fisherman admiring an‌⁠ extraordinary catch.

“You’d‍ better pay well!‍ I’ve kept him‍⁠‌ fresh and in‌⁠ perfect condition!”

Emil‌‍ Aureo.

Vlad‍ Aureo’s son.

The‌⁠ leader smiled proudly as he called‍ to the black‌ mage.

But‌‌ the mage who‍‌‌ emerged from the fog looked more⁠‍‌ confused than pleased.‌

“…He’s‌ not a dragon.”‍

“What?”‍‍

Because‌‍⁠ the needle of‌⁠ the compass he⁠‌ was holding wasn’t‌‍ moving.

Only‌ moments ago it‌‍‍ had been trembling like mad.

Now it remained completely‌⁠‌ still.

“This‌‌⁠ boy… doesn’t have⁠‌ dragon blood…”

Hearing‍ that, the leader‌ looked down at‌‌ Emil.

“Then‌⁠ what exactly are⁠ you?”

The⁠‌ boy was being crushed against the‌⁠⁠ ground.

But‍ despite his miserable‍‍ appearance, his shoulders‌⁠‌ were shaking slightly.‍⁠

He‌‍ was laughing.

“You’re‌ not much.”

He‍ raised his head⁠ with a mocking‍ grin.

“Not even the assassins.”‍

The‍ leader’s eyes narrowed.‍‌‍

And⁠ only then did⁠‍ he truly look⁠⁠ at the boy.‍⁠

Until‌‍ that moment, greed‌‍⁠ and the glow‍⁠‌ of the mole’s‌ blessing had hidden⁠‌⁠ an important detail.‍⁠

The⁠ boy’s hair.

Now⁠ he could see‍‌ it clearly.

It‍ wasn’t blond.

It⁠‌ was a pale‍ yellow.

Rattleee!⁠‍

Wheeeeeet!⁠

With‍ the shrill scream‌ of the compass⁠⁠ needle, someone slipped‌⁠‍ into the magic‌‍ circle.

Even‌⁠ amid that fog,‍ it was impossible‌⁠‍ not to recognize‌‌⁠ that brilliant golden hair.

“Hyaaaah!”⁠‍

Taking‍‌ advantage of the⁠‍⁠ black mage momentarily⁠ leaving the circle,⁠⁠‌ the boy lunged‌‌⁠ like a beast.‍

And‍ the target he‌ sought was the‌ sword embedded in⁠ the corpse.

“Gaaahhh!”

The‌⁠ sinister runes carved⁠‌ into the sword⁠ began climbing up‌ Emil’s arm.

They⁠⁠ were cursed words‍ so cruel and⁠ vile that an⁠‍⁠ ordinary person wouldn’t‌ even be able‍⁠ to look at⁠ them.

But the dragon blood⁠ flowing through his veins refused to⁠‍‌ allow those curses‍ to invade his‍ soul.

“Get‌‌ away from there!”‍‌‌

The‌ world of the most perfect dragon.‌⁠

A world that crushed‍‍ all possibilities.

And‍⁠ the world of‌ curses created by‍‌ the black mage,‍ an existence that⁠⁠‍ could never be‌‌‍ accepted within that‌‍‍ perfection.

“…Stop⁠ him!”

The⁠‍ black mage felt his magic circle collapsing.

His‍ face filled with‍ terror.

But‍ Emil’s eyes were‌‌ already shining with‌ an intense blue⁠ color.

The⁠ dragon’s vertical pupils‌‍⁠ destroyed the world‌‌ of curses.

And⁠ tore the sword‍ free from the⁠ old knight.

“Stop him!”

Fwoooosh!‌‍

The‌⁠ instant the sword‌ was pulled free,‌ a storm erupted‌ across the prairie.‍

The‍⁠ air that had‌ remained trapped within‍ the fog began⁠⁠‌ to move violently.⁠

The‌ sword was the‍⁠ core of the⁠ magic circle.

And‍ the moment it‌ disappeared, the prairie‌‍ wind burst through and swept away the milky fog.⁠‍

[Well‌⁠‍ done, Emil.]

And⁠‍ then they saw⁠‌ it.

The‍⁠ green prairie.

The‍ clear night sky.‌

And⁠⁠ beneath the light‌‍‍ of the Black‌ Moon.

Joseph⁠‌ Bayezid.

[From this moment onward,‍ every battlefield present‌⁠ here shall fall under my command.]⁠

The‌⁠ banner he held‍‍ fluttered in the‌ air.

Upon⁠ the cloth, dark‌ as the night‌‍ sky, were embroidered‌ the emblem of‌‍ Bayezid and the‌‍⁠ white lightning bolt‌‍ that symbolized the‌‍ Founding King.

[All⁠ authority I exercise‍‌ is simultaneously backed‍‍‍ by Bayezid and‍‌ by the Founding‌‌ King.]

Crunch!‌⁠

Joseph⁠ drove the banner‍‍ into the ground.‌‌

And⁠ at the same‍ time, the light‌ of the Black‌‌ Moon began descending‍ from the sky.‌‌

Wherever the light touched,‌ colors disappeared.

A world where only‌‌ black and white⁠⁠ existed began to‌‍ spread.

[I,‍⁠ Joseph Bayezid, declare⁠ that from this‌‌ moment onward I shall exercise my‍‍‍ rights under the honorable names that⁠ guarantee my existence.]⁠

The‌⁠⁠ black-haired man closed‌ his left eye.‌

Then,‍‌ with a cold‍‍ smile, he said.‌

[Even‍ over your lives.]‍⁠

Dark‍⁠⁠ aura, black as the night sky,‌‌ began to pour⁠⁠ from Joseph’s closed‍ eye.

Joseph Bayezid.