Shadowless Night

In that situation, she appeared. Rosaline: an Imperial knight, who is strong enough to shatter the human weapons created by the Black Moon and is so loyal that she even sacrifices her life for the 2nd Prince Ricardis. She was the only demon of Illavenia in this state of affairs.

‘But isn’t this kind of weird…?’

The speed at which the rumors about her spread was unusual. It hasn’t even been a week, but it’s already out of Vista and spreading all over Illavenia. It’s impossible unless someone deliberately spreads them.

She was born in a country that denied her existence, so sympathy for her rose like a wave. The flow created through the mouths of many people is difficult to reverse.

However, Rosaline was unaware of the situation, so she must feel pretty stuffy inside. Cecil looked at her with a look of pity as if Rosaline was about to die. Rosaline was as expressionless as when she was sleeping. But under that masked face, various thoughts must be chaotically scattered.

‘How pitiful. Isn’t it too windy for this little girl to survive?’ Cecil was about to burst into tears, but she found Rosaline quite fascinating.

Then the eagle, which sat on the back of Rosaline’s chair, lightly rubbed Rosaline’s face with the flat part of its beak. Rosaline served some macarons for the eagle.

“These are macarons.”

“…?”

Count Drythorne doubted her ears. ‘Weren’t we talking about a tremendously important event that could shake her very life right now? Weren’t we?’

As she watched Rosaline carefreely sharing macarons with the eagle, she eventually felt as if they were not. ‘Could it be that you have no idea about what we were just discussing?’

The eagle who ate the macarons nodded, intoxicated with the sweetness. Rosaline also nodded and made an “Umm…” sound. Those excited gestures seemed to answer Cecil’s thoughts. Rosaline let out a smile. She had tried macarons before, but these were baked better than the ones she had previously.

***

“38. And we’re 8…?”

Haqab frowned. He had just received the battle report from Attilak.

“There are 38 deaths on the side of the Knights of White Night, and it is correct to say that we have 8 survivors,” Haqab clarified.

Attilak’s face turned red. ‘What kind of bullshit is this? An elite unit that is no different from human weapons collapsed one by one. They couldn’t even complete the mission of capturing or killing the 2nd Prince. We spent the money. We put in the hard work. Yet there’s is no result. On the contrary, we just suffered a loss.’

“Not 8 casualties, but 8 survivors…”

Haqab continued to recite the embarrassing report.

“Count Drythorne and Count Radwiell crossed the border and helped the Knights of the White Night.”

“Hmm? Not Golgarten or Virgarth, but Drythorne and Radwiell. How novel… What were they thinking? They just sent a peace delegation to establish friendship, but now is there going to be a war? The Emperor will not stand still.”

[Virgarth: of Green Lantern]

Everyone was aware that Count Drythorne and Count Radwiell did not support the 2nd Prince. Drythorne was neutral. And although Radwiell was said to belong to the 1st Prince, he was loyal to the current emperor. There was absolutely no reason to help the 2nd Prince.

No, even if they did decide to help, they should not cross the border in the first place. The delegation got permission from Hiksala, but those two groups did not. In other words, it would not be strange if the incident of them crossing the border became the starting point for a war. Even if the 2nd Prince was bleeding and dying right in front of the border, they must never move.

“I don’t know why they moved, but Your Highness, do you remember that before the 2nd Prince came to Balta, he sent an official letter asking if it was okay to increase the number of people in the delegation?”

“Yes, he did. I gave permission, but Elpidio interfered… Ah, I see. That’s why there weren’t many people.”

Haqab understood Ricardis’ intentions. The number of delegates that crossed Balta’s borders was far below what he had permitted. However, if you include the Knights of Drythorne and Radwiell, the number will be correct. If they were initially members of the scheduled delegation, Balta could not raise any objection. Wasn’t he the one who signed the permit in the first place?

“In this way, I received a blow. I didn’t think Ricardis would do this after Elpidio made such a fuss of reducing the number of members.”

Haqab smiled as if it was ridiculous. Perhaps Ricardis also predicted Elpidio’s reaction. He’s never been as easy to understand as Elpidio. If there were 300 people from the beginning, he would have prepared an attack according to the number. Ricardis’ aim was right on point. Elpidio thought he was a puppy, so he prepared a small trap. Apparently, he was a dire wolf in the shadows.

“Elpidio is going to die of a stomach ache, tripping over what I said. It’s so funny. I also tripped and fell, though. Tsk. Never mind, this was just a useless opening anyway.”

They say that Count Drythorne crossed the border with weapons that looked like the smaller version of siege engines. Those were new weapons that he had never seen before. The Count seemed to judge that close combat was dangerous after the appearance of ‘Fragment’. The artilleries were much bigger than a crossbow but smaller than a ballista. It was lightweight, easy to carry, and had considerable destructive power. As a result of the continuous outpour of powerful attacks, the Black Moon was devastated.

The Knights of Drythrone mainly consisted of commoners and mercenaries. The Count wanted overwhelming brutality, and in that case, mercenaries who had gone through many battles were more proficient than nobles. So terribly crushed were the corpses these mercernaries swept over that you couldn’t even recognize their form.

This battle had a similar pattern. If Count Drythorne was the person who fought at that spot, he would have known even if no one had told him. One did not need to spend much effort to get her angry, and when one went too far, all that was left would be fear.

To be honest, even Haqab got a little tired of it. On the battlefield, fear is an effective weapon. Count Drythorne, like Haqab, was well aware of that fact. This method was not done simply because of her cruel nature but rather to use her means effectively.

A mad dog with reason. Therefore, the Count bit even more painfully. Naturally, she was the object most shunned by Baltan warriors. The severed heads separately collected had been placed to form letters, but Attilak did not reveal the exact details. Haqab got a feeling that it’d be some sort of swear word.

“That is so Count Drythorne.”

Haqab shook his head left and right. After that, Attilak’s report went in line with what he expected. Their group battled with Count Drythorne, and the 2nd Prince returned safely under Count Radwiell’s protection.

Haqab clenched his chin and tapped his temple.

‘Radwiell…’

Hearing that name, another person came to mind— the owner of that indifferent face.

Rosaline. She was the 2nd Prince’s escort knight, so she probably died? She was in a position where she would have fought the most dangerous battles. She was so close. He should’ve taken her away. However, Haqab soon erased that vague feeling when Attilak brought up the story of Rosaline as if he had read Haqab’s mind.

“The dark-haired knight? Rosaline? Rosaline Radwiell?”

“Yes, Your Highness. They say that a female knight with dark hair faced more than 30 raiders.”

Attilak closed his eyes tightly. This wasn’t like bragging about some back alley thug who fought one-on-one in 17 matches. This story was even more absurd. Anyone who has ever raised a sword in even a small number of battles and wars will know it well: if outnumbered, your chances of winning are infinitely lower. They say she had won the fight against the enemy that was not three times as many, but thirty-three times as many. Even if he had seen it with his own eyes, he would have had doubts.

When the raiders found her, no one could’ve imagined their eradication by a bleeding knight, already wounded here and there. Only one raider survived the battle. As he reported, Rosaline Radwiell wielded her bizarrely mutated black hands and moved with wind-like speed. Fortunately, she was so exhausted that she turned away without confirming the kill.

He said that even though the terrifying slayer had left the battlefield and left him lying there dying, the horror she left still weighed on his whole body.

The first thing those who entered the Black Moon did was kill their emotions, and they went through exceedingly dangerous training in which only five out of a hundred people survived. They were ready to give everything for the mission: all for the Black Moon and Crean Tidanion.

The people selected for this raid were a small number of elites. They would not hesitate to immediately commit suicide when captured. It was impossible to imagine how overwhelming the battle was to inspire fear in such people.