WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Chen
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◈ The Genius Knight of a Fallen Race ◈
Chapter 36: First Love Comes Like a Fever
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After the princess finished speaking, silence settled over the room, broken only by sparks crackling in the fireplace.
Roden wished it were possible to return to before those dangerous words had been spoken.
That was how shocking the girl’s declaration had been.
‘The Age of Magic...’
The term alone was enough to make the Old Faith, which made up half of Pendia’s religious establishment, erupt in outrage.
If she truly attempted something like that, the kingdom would surely split in two and descend into civil war.
No, nearby Old Faith nations such as Libert and Ajun might even send troops to interfere.
It would be the return of the religious war from five hundred years ago, when the Arman Empire fell and the New Faith and Old Faith split apart, slaughtering one another.
Just imagining it made Roden’s mouth go dry.
“D-Does anyone else know about this?”
“A few professors from the Magic Society I consulted may know fragments of the research material, but almost no one knows the whole plan or its ultimate goal. The Society chairman, me, my maternal uncle, and Aran and Kagon here, who handled all sorts of errands... Now, you two as well.”
In other words, she had just revealed an utterly classified secret that had never been allowed to leak.
If it was that secret, please keep it from us too, Roden thought inwardly in horror before cautiously speaking.
“I’m not sure this is something we’re allowed to know.”
Serin clearly wanted to maintain a loose cooperative relationship with Shan, or a friendship, as she put it.
Even after knighting him, she had only offered vague hints about matters like this.
Yet now she was suddenly revealing an ambition that even siblings might hesitate to share. There had to be a reason.
Serin shook her head.
“There are already more than enough bad rumors about me at court. One more will hardly make a difference. Conrad still believes I tried to poison Father. He says that since I dabbled in evil magic, I’d naturally be capable of that as well. Compared to that, a baseless suspicion like this is nothing.”
Compared to suspicions that she had tried to poison the king, her own father, the Age of Magic would probably be dismissed as mere nonsense.
If anything, it was too vast to feel real.
“Besides, I’m talking about the distant future, several decades after I ascend the throne. I have no intention of forcing reforms through and ruling atop my people’s corpses. I’m telling you this now because the reward for this request is an item made using that very technology.”
At the mention of receiving a magic device, Shan’s eyes lit up and he sat up straighter.
It would naturally be inferior to the Thousand Forms he possessed now, but since it would be made for him, he could choose its shape and effects.
More importantly, something with middling performance would be easier to use openly.
“After this jousting tournament ends, I want you to hunt the master of Kastaman Castle.”
“The castle’s master?”
The master of a castle would be a nobleman. Did people normally use the word “hunt” for a noble?
Seeing Shan’s confusion, Serin explained.
“He’s a vampire. Not one of the low-ranking vampires scattered throughout the mountains and fields, but a high vampire that has lived for at least several centuries.”
Vampires were usually no more than low-ranking monsters, gaunt creatures that shrieked and craved human blood until they were exterminated.
Occasionally, though, one that had feasted on human blood for a long time would successfully undergo metamorphosis.
Such high vampires possessed exceptional physical abilities and awakened a variety of innate magical abilities unique to high-ranking monsters.
Most terrifying of all, they possessed intelligence equal to that of humans.
“It’s surprising one like that hasn’t been exterminated.”
“He hid his identity well. I heard he bought the identity of a human noble and occupied a castle. We discovered him after receiving information that he planned to secretly cooperate with Elvin. It seems he intends to back Elvin for king, then receive a small territory as his reward. In other words, the vampire’s hunting ground.”
Even if a monster had intelligence comparable to a human’s, cooperating with one was not something a prince of a nation should do.
Roden, stunned by how the story grew worse with every detail, offered a deduction.
“Monsters would probably find it much easier than humans to explore the Demon Realm. Perhaps he wants help searching for a magic device to heal His Majesty.”
“Hm?”
Serin looked puzzled by Roden’s words, then suddenly covered her mouth and let out a small laugh.
“Ah, excuse me... I’d forgotten about that.”
Forgotten about it?
Was she really so unconcerned about something that would practically decide who sat on the next throne, since whoever healed the king would become the next ruler?
Serin revealed the truth to the confused pair.
“Neither of my brothers intends to devote their energy to finding a magic device in the Demon Realm to heal Father. They’re only obsessed with secretly killing each other. That vampire will probably be used as an assassin to eliminate the other side’s knights.”
“What?”
“Would some powerful healing magic device, one that no one has found for centuries, really appear just because they hurriedly searched the Demon Realm? And even if they found it, Father’s full recovery would mean spending several more years, perhaps decades, as princes. With bad luck, they might even grow old and die before him. Why would they want to find it?”
It made sense when put that way.
Still, the thought of children whose father had fallen ill, yet cared only about killing one another instead of curing him, was chilling.
Roden had heard power was frightening, but had not expected it to be like this.
“Then the two princes sending armies into the Demon Realm is...”
“Only a performance, since Father is still alive. They can’t afford to openly earn his displeasure. All the truly capable knights and assassins are being gathered in the capital. You can tell just by looking at Marquis Abel. He never left for the Demon Realm.”
That meant the plans of knights hoping to win the jousting tournament, gain a prince’s patronage, and rise through the ranks were flawed from the start.
If the princes recruited them, it would be to have them kill one another.
“Let’s set that aside for now. It isn’t time for us to clash yet, and I’m safe while those two are desperate to kill each other. So, will you accept this request?”
“Yes.”
After exchanging a glance with Roden, Shan nodded.
He was not being asked to assassinate anyone. Hunting vampires was practically a knight’s duty, so there was no reason to refuse.
Even among high vampires, individual strength varied greatly, and the powerful ones could easily devour one or two knights.
Still, they were several levels below a cockatrice.
Shan also possessed a secret weapon that worked well against creatures like that. The vampire would make the perfect addition to his hunting record.
“That’s fortunate. Tell me what you want, and I’ll have the magic device made in advance. One purpose is to test it in actual combat.”
Come to think of it, she had said the research was nearing completion and only the final verification remained.
It seemed she intended to verify it by having Shan use it himself.
“Oh, and if you manage to kill him alone, I’d like to examine your body again, like last time. Just in case.”
The princess added quietly that knights sometimes killed high vampires alone, so Shan should not expect much.
A little later, Shan and Roden left the princess’s villa and walked through the dark streets, each lost in thought.
Roden spoke first.
“Seriously... The more I learn, the more it feels like I’m getting smacked in the back of the head.”
“Yeah.”
“Until last year, I never imagined I’d learn about a world like this, much less get involved in it. My only goal was to overcome that damned illness and become a knight.”
Roden’s world had changed after becoming entangled with the small boy beside them.
The darkness of the royal court and its countless schemes seemed to be striding closer with every step. It was terrifying.
“Sorry.”
Shan took it as a reproach and apologized in a somewhat dejected tone.
Roden reached out and thoroughly ruffled his black hair.
“What are you apologizing for, idiot? Since we’re already here, let’s climb as high as we can. So what if we die once? It’s not like we’ll die twice.”
Once you were on a galloping horse, you could not get off.
All you could do was tighten your thighs and ride forward, all the way to the end.
Whether that end was a cliff or paradise.
* * *
The second day of the jousting tournament did feel as though the average skill level had risen a little from the day before.
Those who had suffered three losses on the first day, people with nothing to their name but the title of knight, had all been eliminated.
Still, no one among them matched Fional’s skill.
Whenever Shan closed his eyes, he could still vividly see the path of that man’s thrust.
It had been an ideal thrust, as though fighting himself in a mirror. Every muscle had worked together naturally.
‘What would happen if I fought him again now?’
There was no need to say that Fional had been off guard at the time.
He had only casually thrust his lance to kill some unknown vagrant who had suddenly started massacring his subordinates.
If his opponent had been a fully armed knight carrying a lance, Fional would naturally have prepared himself far more thoroughly.
Considering how deeply a knight’s mental state affected their Spirit, Shan had to judge him as an enemy twice as dangerous as before.
Still, Shan did not think he would lose.
His equipment and techniques were on an entirely different level now.
Of course, he would only know if they met and fought.
Boom!
A thunderous impact echoed in the distance, snapping Shan out of his thoughts.
One knight fell from the saddle like a puppet with cut strings.
‘There’s at least one formidable fighter here.’
“Uoooooh!”
The knight who had just unhorsed an opponent raised his lance and roared.
Standing well over two meters tall with a long, tree-like frame, he had an appearance that stood out anywhere.
“Who are you watching so closely?”
“That tall knight over there.”
“Ah, Sir Lugh the beanpole.”
Like a diligent squire, Roden had gathered plenty of information while Shan focused on his own mental preparation.
“I heard he’s a country knight who just came up from southern Pendia. Apparently, this is his first jousting tournament as well.”
“Seems like it.”
“His record on the first day was not much to speak of, but now he seems unstoppable.”
Shan remembered seeing Lugh move clumsily on the first day and paying him little attention.
Yet after just one day, his technique had become quite clean, and he was now undefeated in three matches.
More than anything, his height and arms, which were extraordinarily long even for his height, gave him a tremendous advantage.
Unless his swordsmanship was truly dreadful, that build would probably benefit him greatly with a sword as well.
“Though I think the knight who just got planted into the ground was Sir Katra.”
“Ah, now that you mention it...”
Sir Katra, who had finally been eliminated after losing all his matches on the second day, rose with a sigh.
Before leaving, Katra approached Shan.
“Hang in there. I’ll leave revenge to you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Once only sixteen people remained, the tournament would switch to a bracket format. If Shan advanced, they would eventually meet.
That was assuming the beanpole did not get snapped by another knight first.
When it became Shan’s turn, he armed himself and entered the field.
The knight standing across from him was hidden behind a visor, but the tension was obvious.
When the flags crossed to signal the start, Shan lightly kicked his horse’s flanks and rode forward.
“Hyah!”
Riding hard always made him feel good.
It felt as though four new legs had sprouted from his body and were running for him.
The black horse Shan rode was the one he had bought when hunting the troll in Ovilos City.
For a knight’s warhorse, it was nothing special. Shan only kept riding it because he might soon acquire a good horse and did not want to waste money unnecessarily.
What would it feel like to ride a better horse?
Thinking that, Shan drove his lance into the helmet visible over his opponent’s shield.
His increasingly mature control of Spirit made the opponent collapse unconscious at once.
“[Ah! As expected, Sir Shan Barendil has achieved six victories without a loss!]”
Cheers, now quite familiar to Shan, rang out in the distance alongside the commentator’s announcement.
Having defeated every opponent he faced in a single strike, Shan was revered as the tournament’s clear favorite.
To everyone but Old Faith followers and a few people who hated the Altos, a teenage boy who had appeared like a comet and swept through the jousting tournament could not help but shine.
After everyone had fought six fierce matches, the top sixteen were finally selected according to their records.
Those who had been eliminated by secondary criteria despite matching others’ win-loss records vented their frustration.
“Damn it! This is a scam! That bastard was definitely unconscious!”
“If he didn’t fall from his horse, it’s one point. Accept it.”
“Haah... I was certain I’d make the main bracket this time...”
For Shan, who had advanced in overwhelming first place, it had nothing to do with him.
When he looked at the completed bracket a little later, the fighter he had been watching was on the opposite side.
Shan had thought Lugh might be eliminated because of his poor first-day record, but he seemed to have made it through by a narrow margin.
“Damn it, I’m in the same line as that Alto bastard.”
“I’ve got him as my first opponent! I finally made the main bracket, and this tournament is already ruined.”
The knights assigned to Shan’s side of the bracket let out cries of despair.
* * *
The next day was the third and final day of the jousting tournament.
As everyone expected, Shan kept winning, crushing each opponent he faced with a single strike.
By now, the weak competitors had all been filtered out. The remaining knights were highly skilled.
Some had won tournaments in other cities. Some had made names for themselves abroad. Some were descendants of old knightly houses.
None of them were Shan’s match.
Before long, all sorts of nicknames for him spread through the streets: Shan of the One-Hit Kill, Shining Eyes, the Green Knight, the Hope of the Altos.
The servants acting on Kalion’s orders could no longer make much money because the odds on Shan had become too low.
Then came the long-awaited final.
The crowd marveled at the sight of Shan and Lugh facing each other.
“Wow, looking at them together, the difference in size is ridiculous.”
“At this point, it’s not even like an adult and a child. It’s more like a human and a goblin.”
Despite appearances, though, Shan was the overwhelming favorite.
From his six preliminary matches through the round of sixteen, quarterfinals, and semifinals, he had defeated every opponent in one strike.
It was a record difficult to find even in Hasra’s long-established jousting tournament.
Despite the disadvantage, there were still plenty of people cheering for Lugh.
“Win, beanpole!”
“Don’t lose to an Alto!”
All Old Faith followers, except for a few who had boycotted the tournament in outrage over an Alto sweeping it, supported Lugh.
They shouted themselves hoarse, insisting that they could not allow that Alto bastard to win this sacred jousting tournament.
Soon, the final began, and the two knights spurred their horses toward one another.
‘Wow...’
Watching Lugh through his visor, Shan clicked his tongue at the overwhelming difference in reach.
Even if he was tall and had long arms, how was it fair for his lance to reach nearly fifty centimeters farther?
His head was so high that Shan had to raise his lance at an almost diagonal angle to aim for it, widening the gap even more.
If they had been equally skilled, Shan would have been helplessly defeated.
Of course, Shan could raise his shield and block the opponent’s lance point while observing its slightest movement in time stretched so that an instant felt nearly eternal.
The ratio of Spirit in his lance and shield was roughly three to seven.
Lugh’s armor was not particularly good, so this should be enough to defend reliably while knocking him down.
The moment Shan approached with that thought in mind...
‘What?’
Just before impact, Lugh uncouched the lance from beneath his armpit and thrust his arm straight forward.
Even considering that a tournament lance was hollow and relatively light, it was astonishing strength.
The difference in their reach widened to nearly a full meter.
And the movement itself was remarkably refined.
Like Fional’s strike, or the secret thrust Sir Darkal had demonstrated before, it was an ideal attack painstakingly carved out over countless hours.
The lance that had already been thrusting down from above due to Lugh’s height now seemed to plunge straight down, slipping past Shan’s shield.
Shan reacted at once, trying to knock aside the incoming lance from below.
Unexpectedly, Lugh’s Spirit, determined to force it through, was so intense that Shan could not overcome it.
It seemed Lugh had not only abandoned defense and concentrated all his Spirit into the attack, but had poured every bit of his strength into this single strike without conserving stamina.
‘Urgh.’
Bang!
Lugh’s lance struck Shan’s shoulder. Shan’s lance wavered and, half a beat late, stabbed Lugh’s exposed head.
As the two knights struck one another and crossed paths, the audience erupted.
“Ooh! He didn’t take his opponent down in one hit for the first time!”
“He got hit too!”
“What happens now?”
“Neither fell from their horse. Sir Shan struck Sir Lugh’s head, while Sir Lugh struck Sir Shan’s body, so Sir Shan gets two points and Sir Lugh gets one!”
Shan stopped his horse and checked the shoulder that had been struck.
Fortunately, most of Lugh’s force had been spent pushing aside the shield, and the defensive magic on Shan’s armor had activated as well. It was not a serious blow.
‘Wow, I didn’t expect that...’
Using a refined secret technique and putting all his Spirit into the attack.
Either one would have been dangerous. Using both at once had forced Shan to take an unexpected hit.
Naturally, the price of Lugh’s gamble was not small.
Struck in the helmet, Lugh had fainted while still seated upright. He only barely regained consciousness after the referee called to him several times.
If Shan’s lance had not wavered slightly because he was struck first, Lugh would likely have been unhorsed immediately.
“Sir Lugh, are you conscious? If you do not answer, you will be disqualified!”
“A-Ah! I’m fine! I am!”
“Confirmed. Please prepare for another charge!”
But it was obvious what would happen in a match when Lugh had nearly exhausted his Spirit and was suffering from a concussion.
During the second clash, Lugh could not even properly control his wavering lance and was struck by Shan’s attack, tumbling to the ground.
Sighs poured from the stands.
“Ah...”
“Damn it, you still did well! You hit him once!”
“Give me my money back, you tall useless bastard! How do you lose to a kid half your size?”
“You’re a disgrace to Westerners!”
After Shan rode a lap around the field holding his broken lance, the commentator shouted louder than at any point in the tournament.
“[Attention! The winner of this year’s Hasra jousting tournament is - Sir Shan of House Barendil, from Libert! May the goddess’s blessing be with the great conqueror!]”
“Yes!”
“Woooooo!”
Shan rode lightly around the field, waving in response to the loud cheers and jeers.
Then he noticed the beanpole knight he had defeated approaching him.
Did Lugh want to exchange a few words of goodwill after a fine match?
Or did he want to vent his frustration as the loser?
Unexpectedly, it was neither.
“What was that thrust just now? I clearly struck first, so how did you stay so calm and counterattack without even losing your balance!?”
Lugh had removed his helmet and shouted excitedly, as though he had seen something he could not believe.
The young man, who looked about twenty and around Roden’s age, had a long, horse-like face and an honest-looking expression.
His large, round eyes shone not with hostility or disappointment toward the opponent he had just fought, but awe and admiration.
“Ah, well... My armor is good.”
“It certainly looks good! But that alone can’t explain such an incredible technique! My father was right. He said Pendia has heroes as numerous as stars, and that someone like me would be nothing special once I reached the capital!”
Shan inwardly thought, No, I don’t think that’s quite true...
Though he had lost to Shan, Lugh had displayed remarkable athletic ability and technique despite his enormous frame.
Among the knights Shan had met so far, he was the strongest after Fional.
His physical gifts were incredible, and he was young. If he continued growing like this, Shan thought he might even become stronger than Fional.
“Sir Lugh was impressive too. It’s hard to believe your first-day record was so poor.”
“Ah, I was so nervous on the first day that I made some mistakes! One time, I almost rode out holding my lance backward!”
If it was his first time at an event like this, Shan could understand being nervous.
If not for the advice of a knight whose name he could not quite remember, Shan himself might have gone into his first match overly excited.
After that, Lugh kept rambling on about how he had been so amazed by Shan’s skill from the first day that he had nearly cried.
He said he had wanted to speak to Shan but only hovered nearby because he was afraid Shan would ignore some inadequate country bumpkin trying to bother him.
If the commentator had not called Shan away for the winner’s ceremony, Lugh might have kept him there talking forever.
* * *
The award ceremony that began shortly afterward was presided over by some marquis who was the king’s first cousin once removed.
One look at his frowning face and blunt tone made it clear that he did not welcome Shan’s presence.
“Er... Yes, congratulations, victor. May the goddess protect you. Though I don’t know whether she would protect an Alto.”
He seemed to mutter the last part under his breath so Shan would not hear, but it was so petty that it was almost funny rather than angering.
Besides, considering the prize Shan was about to receive, he could afford to laugh it off.
“Bring it out!”
At the marquis’s gesture, someone who appeared to be an attendant led out a horse whose entire body gleamed like metal.
Its mane was long and light brown, almost like human hair. Its four long, sturdy legs were elegant, yet taut with muscle and full of strength.
The most beautiful horse in the world. The strongest. The fastest. The sturdiest...
A horse among horses, the king of all horses, bearing countless such descriptions.
It was the reason knights from all across Pendia, and even from foreign lands, had risked their lives crashing into one another.
“A Horais Warhorse.”
Shan did not hear the marquis muttering that it was such a waste.
For the first time in his life, Shan had fallen in love.
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