Episode 33
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The Black Knight and the Holy Swordsman. A proxy war between two great lords fought in the name of a single baron.
The battle that day, called the ‘Battle of Black-and-white’, began with a thousand-mile gallop on horseback.
After a while, the story spread from mouth to mouth and became a great propaganda even Dale did not intend.
At a young age, he slaughtered enemy knights on the front lines of the battlefield, and with his heavenly wisdom, he led the battle to a great victory by encircling the enemy… … At the end of his victory, he did not even show an ounce of mercy to his enemies who cried out for his life.
A mountain of corpses that never diminishes even when crows peck at it day and night for a week, a sea of blood that overflows like a flood.
That was the great victory and cruelty of the ‘Black Prince’ that the people of the empire were talking about.
An exaggerated tale of bravery, with truth and lies mixed to suit one’s taste.
Black Prince, son of the Black Duke.
‘Like father, like son.’
It was not unrelated to the reason why Dale’s father was now an object of fear.
People’s stories are always exaggerated.
At least, the story that he was the son of a black knight who mercilessly executed surrendered enemies would be considered a little more plausible than the trivial truth that the entire unit was annihilated due to an incompetent commander.
* * *
“I have a gift for you for your eleventh birthday.”
Some time later, in the Duke of Saxony’s office.
As Dale’s birthday approaches, his father, Black Gong, opens his mouth.
“At a formal birthday celebration in the near future, I will appoint you Viscount of the Duchy of Saxony.”
“… … !”
It was truly a birthday present worthy of being born with a silver spoon in my mouth.
“From now on, you will serve as my ‘representative appointed by the Duke of Saxony’ and govern the major and minor affairs of the duchy.”
A Viscount is not, strictly speaking, a ‘real nobleman’ like a count or a baron. He is closer to the concept of an honorary nobleman who does not independently own his own lands, but rather exercises his power as a representative in his lands upon the appointment of his lord.
“As the need arises, you may call upon the knights of the House of Saxony as your ‘Duke’s Agent’ and require them to perform duties, including military service.”
But in the end, self-creation is self-creation.
There was a world of difference between being the agent of a count and being the agent of a grand prince, such as the Duke of Saxony.
Moreover, Dale is the heir to this dukedom. Therefore, what the Black Duke promised Dale was something that could not be compared to several territories or titles combined.
“Thank you, Father.”
Dale bowed his head again to show his respect.
The Black Duke’s promise to respect the House of Saxony as an equal head of the family. He kept his promise.
“And since Father said so… … .”
So, based on that promise, Dale opened his mouth.
“It may be a bit sudden, but I have something I would like to carry out as Your Majesty’s representative.”
* * *
After a while.
Dale turned 11 and was created Viscount, assistant to the Duke of Saxony, in the name of his father, the Black Duke.
Around that time, a letter was sent to the church saying that the Black Prince of Saxony was preparing to make a ‘pilgrimage’ to the land of the goddess.
* * *
“You want to go on a pilgrimage to the Sistine Chapel?”
That day, Black Gong doubted his ears for a moment at the unexpected words.
“Yes.”
The Sistine Chapel. In the past, it was the headquarters of the Catholic Church, which called itself the pillar of faith under the name of the “State of the Church,” and where the white magic tower, which called itself the handmaiden of God, is located.
“People say that in the battle that day, the Black Prince displayed such cruelty that he did not tolerate even a single prisoner.”
Dale continued.
“Knights armed with the faith of the Goddess have fallen victim to my cruelty, and this is not something the Church is happy about.”
It is well known that the Holy Sword and the Knights of St. Magdalene, as their name suggests, claim to be the standard-bearers of the Church of the Goddess.
And the standard-bearers of that faith were slaughtered in a sea of blood and mountains of corpses, and the result of that day is the brutal and infamous reputation of the Black Prince that the swindlers talk about.
The result of the black-and-white rotation was a crushing defeat that could only be described as such. As Dale said, this is not something the church would be happy to accept.
“Fear is a great asset that cannot be exchanged for anything.”
Still, the Duke of Saxony asked back as if he could not understand.
“Are you trying to deny your own notoriety and please the church?”
“It is a force worth enduring to that extent.”
Dale nodded without hesitation.
“The eldest son of the House of Saxony and the ‘Duke in Charge’ sets out on a pilgrimage on foot to seek God’s forgiveness… … .”
He nods and continues speaking.
“The church will also show its appropriate sincerity.”
“Is there anything else you are thinking about?”
Dale nodded without hesitation to Black Ball’s question.
“I’m going to make them an offer they can’t refuse.”
Along with a few copies of the ‘Forbidden Books’ that I was hoping to get my hands on there.
* * *
The boundary between the Greenbelt Barony and the Barony of Pucker, where the black and white rotation once took place.
This is where the area known as the northern part of the empire ends and the central region, untouched by the influence of the Duke of Saxony, begins.
It wasn’t just the knights of the Count’s house who suffered an irreversible defeat in the battle that day. The rogue knight Baron Pucker, who had acquired a noble title by accident, was no exception.
He lost most of his trusted subordinates who had been with him since his days as a mercenary, and even the Baron himself had to pay a huge ransom to the House of Saxony to be released. The castle was depleted of wine and women, and there was no more blood left to be squeezed out of his devastated territory.
Therefore, there was only one thing that Baron Parker, who had become a beggar, had to do.
Theft.
As befitting a villain who has been known as a thief knight since childhood, robbing those coming and going from the territory is a time-honored industry of the Baronial domain of Pucker.
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──That day was no different.
Just then, a group of travelers entered the baron’s territory without any fear, and the baron’s men raised their voices upon discovering their prey.
“Shoot!”
A few arrows pierce the air, breaking the silence. From the hills that lend themselves to surprise attacks, from in front and behind the road where travelers pass, from all sides.
Heehee!
At the sudden surprise attack, the travelers’ horses begin to waver.
“Do you dare to pass through Baron Parker’s territory without permission?”
As Baron Pucker’s band of bandits surrounded the area, a robed traveler stepped forward to speak on their behalf.
“What do you wish for?”
It was a very young and boyish voice.
“Isn’t it common sense to pay a toll to pass through a noble’s territory?”
“……All right.”
But despite the threat of the bandits, the traveler nodded as if nothing had surprised him.
Clang.
He took out a pocket full of coins from his bosom.
“I have prepared a small amount of money to pay the toll.”
“Yeah, I see you know a thing or two.”
The Baron’s subordinate approached with a satisfied smile. He snatched the bag from the traveler’s hand, examined its contents, and nodded. It was quite a large sum.
“Okay, considering your sincerity, I’ll give you a special pass!”
When one of the bandits shouted, as if he was doing them a great favor, the rest of the bandits also backed down obediently.
They exchanged meaningful glances at each other, and did not hide their faint smiles and giggles.
A few hours later.
It was before the travelers had even crossed the mountain pass, as dusk was beginning to fall on the west.
The usual gang of thieves appeared before them once again, this time on a scale incomparable to that of just moments ago.
“Stop!”
The leader of the bandits, Baron Pucker, personally joined them, leading his few knights.
“Here comes Baron Parker!”
“Behave yourself in front of the Baron!”
“Do you dare to pass through my territory without paying the toll?”
They were all faded and rusty, and compared to the Night Raven Knights’ weapons, they were cheap. However, they were more than enough to deal with a group of travelers.
“It’s a toll.”
The polite traveler opened his mouth to Baron Parker.
“We paid that price to the Baron’s subordinate a little while ago.”
Indifferently, as if he couldn’t understand.
“According to imperial law, isn’t it illegal to collect tolls more than once from a single territory?”
“You paid the price, what the hell are you talking about in broad daylight!”
The Baron’s men raised their voices and snickered.
“Haven’t we just met?”
“Well, we are the ones who follow the laws of the empire more than anyone else!”
The bandits burst into mocking laughter again, as if they had no recollection of what had happened just a few hours ago.
The world is full of threats on all sides, and the word rule of law does not sound all that reassuring.
The law is far, the sword is near. That’s the world we live in.
“Do you know who the Baron here is?”
“A bloody battle without any hesitation against the infamous ‘Black Prince’… …!”
“Yes, that’s right! It’s the famous black-and-white spinning top, the last survivor, the hero of the reverse war, Baron Parker!”
“If you value your life, then just give up what you have!”
however.
‘……uh?’
Leaving behind the bravado of his subordinates, Baron Parker held his breath in an inexplicable sense of discomfort.
‘Sir, no way.’
The black prince, the battlefield that day, the familiar voice of a child. I couldn’t believe it.
“A hero of reversal.”
The traveler with the young voice continued, pulling up his hood that was pulled down deeply.
“It’s quite different from what I remember.”
Baron Parker’s expression turns pale at the sight of the young face of the eleven-year-old boy there.
“Ah, ahhhh… … .”
Before long, the rest of the travelers had dismounted from their horses and were drawing the swords they had on their belts.
“Give the order, Your Majesty.”
Each of them wraps the pitch-black aura blade that symbolizes the Night Raven Knights around their sword body.
How could I forget? That very same Aura Blade that mercilessly slaughtered Baron Pucker’s soldiers on the left wing of the battlefield that day.
It is not the sword of a mere traveler who is only concerned with protecting his own body, but the black sword of the House of Saxony, which has no blood or tears.
It was the return of a nightmare that I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to.
