WeTried Translations
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 164: The Red Banquet (3)
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“Cough!”
The man convulsed and spat out a mouthful of blood. Without hesitation, Kyle drove the sword embedded in his body even deeper. The man writhed in agony, staring at Kyle in disbelief.
Why?
Kyle was killing him without even asking for proper information. Him, a man Kyle was certain was a spy.
The man could not understand it. At the very least, he had expected to buy time by using information as bait. That was how it usually went. This time should have been no different.
But then.
“Urgh...”
The man's barely raised head slowly drooped. Thick blood flowed beneath the wooden floor of the old tavern. Kyle bent down again and met the man's eyes.
“Why... why...”
“Do we still look like Federation knights to you?”
“Wh... what...?”
The dying man looked up at Kyle with wild, glaring eyes. Kyle's figure blurred in his red-stained vision.
A black cloak covered his entire body, its hood pulled low. The hair and eyes visible beneath it were as black as the cloak. The color of the blade embedded in his body was the complete opposite.
It gleamed like starlight, as if it had been forged entirely from stellarium.
Stellarium?
“Then that tells me your standards are no better than that.”
Kyle's low voice pierced through the man's fading consciousness. Still refusing to accept reality, the man barely moved his bloodstained lips.
“We...”
“If you don't intend to talk, then don't. It'll all be over soon anyway. If we can't go to them, we only need to wait until they come to us. If they don't come, we'll simply do what we need to do.”
“You...”
“One thing is certain. You don't know who we are. That's enough. By the time you realize it, everything will already be over.”
They were not Federation knights. They were knights of unknown origin, clad in black cloaks. The only group on the continent that wielded star iron swords and showed such clear hatred toward the Emperor was...
No way.
The man gaped at the impossible thought. His mind was growing distant, but he forced himself to keep thinking and muttered in a trembling voice.
“His Majesty the Emperor... will condemn you...”
“I've had enough of that to make me sick. I've even died once. There is nowhere lower for me to fall.”
“Ah...”
“No matter what you do, I'll stand before that bastard myself in the end. One of us is bound to die. Or we'll both perish together.”
Just as the man tried to speak again, Kyle roughly twisted the hilt and pulled out the blade. Blood poured out in torrents, and the man collapsed with a wet thud, his eyes empty.
“So we never did hear where the others are.”
Hermann looked down at the man as he spoke. No one criticized Kyle for killing him. No one showed much reaction at all.
Kyle glanced at the body, lightly flicked the blood off Yurian's sword, then sheathed it.
“It is enough to know that they have not properly assessed us. If the Empire's spies don't know, then the Federation's moderate nobles don't know either.”
“True enough.”
“Is he the only spy we caught?”
Kyle turned to Gerant.
“Yeah. He's the only one we found around here for now.”
Gerant shrugged. It was not a major issue. Spies like this were usually trained to withstand torture, so there was little trouble in simply killing them.
They could have forced him to talk, but that would have taken too long. Even if they went to such trouble, they would gain nothing meaningful. Disguised as a merchant and lurking about like this, he was likely no more than a low-ranking operative or a disposable pawn.
Even if he was not, it would not change much.
“More importantly, are you really all right?”
After a brief silence, Gerant spoke again.
“What do you mean?”
“Your body. You said using mana was difficult even if your injuries had healed. Aren't you suffering from any aftereffects?”
“Nothing is wrong. I have no idea how many times I've heard that already.”
Kyle clenched and unclenched his left hand, where the ring was gone.
He had checked his body and used mana repeatedly in the carriage that day as well, but nothing seemed seriously wrong.
“You don't need to step in if fighting is difficult.”
“Yeah. Honestly, Kyle, you don't even need to fight. We're already overpowered.”
“Why not just rest while you have the chance?”
The knights other than Gerant each made a joking remark. Kyle shook his head.
“No.”
“...”
“We don't know how they'll respond yet. I can't rest. Just in case.”
There was always the possibility.
Kyle always tried to prepare for the worst. If the other side had caught on that they were planning something, they might have prepared a hidden trump card, just as the Grand Duke had hidden the Ash Knights.
“My mana is fine too.”
Kyle raised the right hand that had been holding the sword moments ago. As everyone watched, white flames flared up in his palm.
They resembled the pure white flames Kyle had used before, but they were clearly different.
Kyle let the fire flow over the fallen man's corpse. The gently falling embers slowly consumed his body. Before long, the dead man's flesh began to burn into ash without producing a wisp of smoke. Instead, the body burned white from within.
“Good heavens...”
“Looks like we worried for nothing. Is this the Progenitor Dragon's power?”
“It would be stranger if it were easy to control.”
Gerant and the other Ash Knights murmured in amazement. The corpse crumbled into ash without setting the wooden floor on fire.
“We'll handle the cleanup. Another enemy may come by.”
Gerant brushed at the remains of the body as he spoke.
“Will that be all right?”
“It is easy. It's not like this is our first time.”
Easy.
At that simple word, Kyle felt a pang in his chest.
“...Right. We're used to it.”
For some reason, memories of the past came to him.
During the Northern War, Hailen's situation became desperate as the war entered its later stages. Back then, none of us were sane. We could not afford to be selective about our methods.
We killed as many Imperial knights and mages as we could. We tortured captured nobles for information. We used civilians as bait to carry out operations.
We did not hesitate to become monsters.
It was the same after Rowen died and I inherited the position of Commander. I struggled through the mud to win somehow, and though the members raised concerns about my plans, they followed me in the end.
They knew how cornered I was.
They tried to lessen the burden on my shoulders, even a little.
And what was the result?
After abandoning our humanity, all that awaited us was defeat and the fall of Baldheim, our capital. It had been a futile death.
Would this time be different?
It would.
At the very least, I would not lose. Even if certain death awaited me at the end of this life, it did not matter. For the Empire's destruction and the Emperor's death, I was prepared to become a monster once again.
If necessary, I would cast aside my humanity as many times as it took.
I had already come too far to turn back.
I could never return to those days.
Never again.
* * *
In a dim room flooded with the deep glow of sunset, several people sat around a long table. Adrian, who had just entered, slowly looked over the scene.
Every face he saw was familiar.
High-ranking nobles from the Kingdom of Valone and the Kingdom of Rustin.
Renowned knights and mages.
Chevaliers mixed among them.
And at their head was Godfrey, Commander of the Chevaliers.
“The Grand Duke has come in person. I thought it would take you longer to get here, given how reluctant you are to leave your seat. Was there any trouble on the way?”
The first to speak was an old knight with an imposing air about him. Adrian gave a casual nod.
“There were no issues.”
“I see. As expected. It isn't as if this is Russel. It would be a problem if the Empire's men made it all the way to Valone's rear.”
Godfrey muttered in a light tone, but no one pointed it out. That remained true even in front of Adrian, a Council member and former member of the imperial family.
Godfrey de Servier.
The head of House Servier and Commander of the Chevaliers, a knightly order under the Council.
On the surface, Adrian, as a Council member, ranked above him. In reality, that was not the case. The Chevaliers were a knightly order under the Council, but they possessed a degree of independent authority.
Godfrey held full command over the Chevaliers. His influence in the Federation could not help but be immense. He even refused directives and orders issued directly by the Council on occasion.
Even so, no one could rebuke him.
The Federation's foremost knight. The longest-serving Commander in the history of the Council Knights. The head of House Servier, Valone's foremost martial house. And with Hailen destroyed, Duke Mortein's only equal, now called the continent's greatest knight.
Even the other Council members, kings of their own nations, could not treat him carelessly. Adrian, who had no such standing, could not treat Godfrey disrespectfully.
Adrian offered an appropriate greeting and sat in the empty seat of honor. As Godfrey smirked, Adrian's two escort knights took their places behind him.
“Is everyone here?”
“...”
“Then let's begin.”
Godfrey swept his gaze across the room. The quiet chamber gradually filled with voices.
Given the people gathered there, every conversation concerned the banquet to be held before the Council's grand assembly.
“Fortunately, the moderate nobles have made no particular moves so far.”
“We don't know that. They aren't all fools, so they may have prepared some kind of countermeasure.”
“What forces do we have?”
“Except for the members stationed on the Kingdom of Russel front, around twenty Council Knights have entered Renavik.”
“Twenty?”
“Yes. We deliberately selected only members from hardliner houses. For now, they are disguised as mercenaries.”
“The Kings of Russel and Selaine will have a fit when they find out.”
“We can have the Chevaliers and the private troops of those present here block the forces coming in from outside. Grand Duke, are you and Duke Servier handling the banquet hall itself?”
A high-ranking noble asked, looking back and forth between Adrian and Godfrey at the head of the table.
Adrian nodded calmly.
“That is correct.”
“Are the knights you mentioned really former members of the Knights of Ash?”
The noble asked again.
In an instant, murmurs spread through the room like wildfire. It was the question everyone had wanted to ask, yet had waited for the right moment to raise.
“It is true.”
They had suspected it but had not been certain. Now that the Grand Duke confirmed it himself, the nobles looked at one another in shock.
The name of the Ash Knights carried that much weight. It was even more so because they had not appeared in public for over four years since Hailen's fall.
“Enough. That is enough.”
Thump. Thump.
Godfrey finally stepped in as the noise grew too loud. After he tapped the table twice, the chatter that had filled the room died down at once.
“The Grand Duke is more capable than I thought. Wouldn't you agree?”
Godfrey looked at Adrian with a mocking smile.
“To have knights who were once the continent's strongest at your beck and call, even if their kingdom has fallen.”
“They are not my tools. We are simply cooperating.”
“Of course. You have reason to be confident. How many are there?”
“Nine.”
Nine was far short of their number in their prime, but considering that their homeland had fallen, it was more than enough.
Especially when one considered the strength of each Ash Knight.
“Nine...”
“...”
“The nobles attending the banquet are nothing special, so that should be enough. But it was not free, was it? What did you promise them?”
“Support for the north after the Council is reorganized. They have refused to remain in the Federation.”
“Ha! Are they planning to rebuild the north?”
Godfrey laughed repeatedly.
“Interesting. Very interesting. There's no reason they can't. If Hailen rises again, it would not be bad for us.”
“...”
“Come to think of it, I heard another one joined them recently. Someone who barely survived. Is he in Renavik now?”
“He is.”
“What is his name?”
“Kyle.”
Adrian answered shortly.
The amusement on Godfrey's face instantly vanished, replaced by a cold expression. The other nobles were no different.
Adrian spoke once more, putting strength into each word.
“Kyle Baldrick.”
Footnotes:
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