42 – Episode 42
# 42
The knight, Sirg, was a prodigy.
He was extraordinary from birth. Born as a super-heavyweight baby, weighing 4.8kg, he rapidly grew by devouring everything in sight.
If there was such a thing as a “weight-gaining expert” who gained weight just by drinking water, Sirg was undoubtedly born with that talent.
A human pig that gained weight just by drinking water. Sirg, the embodiment of chubby and gigantic.
From a young age, Sirg had no patience.
When hungry, eat; when sleepy, sleep.
And if there’s something you want, take it.
“Hey, lady! Serg took our kid’s bread again!”
A heavyweight kid, Serg, couldn’t be stopped from taking anything in the neighborhood.
Snatching snacks from peers was just a baby submission, a twist of a child’s wrist.
Serg’s parents, receiving complaints from the neighborhood moms, didn’t scold Serg sternly. Instead, they lazily dealt with it, finding it bothersome.
“So what if your child got robbed? Why blame our Serg when yours is weak and got taken advantage of?”
“What?”
In a motherly manner, Serg’s mom demonstrated the principle of respecting the strong, as if she were born in a martial arts world in ancient China.
Serg was deeply moved by his mother’s principle of strength, a sentiment he later used effectively when dealing with her.
“Oh, Serg! What if you take all the bread home?”
“The strong possess everything… Didn’t you teach me that, Mother, or was it someone else?”
“What nonsense!”
Tall, robust, and chubby, Serg had shown tremendous talent in martial prowess since childhood.
Though grandiose, his martial talent wasn’t a divine and extraordinary skill as depicted in fantasy or martial arts novels.
Simply put, if your physique is a monster, that’s your martial talent.
When a 100kg super heavyweight pushes you around, how would you handle it?
Things might change a bit when entering the realm of professional fighting.
Add weapons like swords and spears, and the story takes a different turn.
However, even if one wields a weapon and dons armor, the innate strength does not diminish. At the age of 15, Sieg grew into a business where he could easily defeat all the adults in the neighborhood.
Therefore, according to the logic of the strong, he began to carve out his own destiny.
“I will become a knight.”
It all started as a mercenary.
He wielded weapons and slew people. The enemy’s blades couldn’t pierce through Sieg’s robust belly. Spears and hammers were no different. Naturally, he became a renowned mercenary.
And at some point, Sieg began to call himself a knight, and no one opposed.
Impatient, reveling in blood and plunder, indulging in gluttony and excessive drinking – a madman…
To anyone’s eyes, he was the perfect knight!
Wow! Look at that figure! How powerful must he be to have such a robust build!
Sieg was arrogant.
He rarely knew defeat in most situations, and whenever he experienced defeat, he ignored the experience.
Just like now.
“It was supposed to be an easy victory… What a waste.”
Sieg licked his lips.
Victory was within reach(?) but it all went awry because of that strange black knight.
It might be comforting, but Sieg was the last bastion of the Marquis. Regardless of his character, he was indeed a skilled fighter.
As Sieg retreated, the front line irreversibly crumbled.
Many soldiers died as Sieg withdrew, but… it was irrelevant to him.
Because, in Sieg’s view, the lives of soldiers were nothing more than insignificant things that couldn’t be considered “life”!
Nobles, priests, magicians, knights… all were human.
Commoner? Farmer? Soldier?
Experience points. Money pouch. A farming mob that spits out money and EXP when defeated.
By the way, EXP stands for Execution Points.
Accumulating EXP turns into the depth of insight to break through the annihilation route.
So, despite the countless soldiers dying, Sirg had no particular thoughts about it.
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He only schemed to somehow secure the viscount and escape.
“As long as I have the viscount, I can start over.”
To Sirg, both the viscount and Lucy looked like nothing but money shuttle and soldier shuttle.
“Here!”
“He’s here! The viscount is over here!”
They tried to run away desperately, but before they knew it, the viscount’s group was being chased by pursuers.
Well, no matter how fast the nobles are, how fast could they really be?
“Viscount, have no worries. I will protect you here!”
“Oh! Sirg the Brave!”
Amidst the swarming enemies, Sirg stood proudly in front of them.
“I am Sirg of Goose! As long as I am alive, I will not let a single finger touch you!”
The soldiers flinched at Sirg’s determination.
Not because of the tattooed pork soup… I mean, because a knight with an impressive appearance was blocking their way.
“Sirg of Goose?”
“Who’s that?”
The enemy whispered. It was evidence that Sirg’s name was not yet known.
But if he worked hard to promote his name in the future, he might become a star knight recognized by someone.
“Enough nonsense, surrender the viscount!”
A soldier rushed towards Sirg.
Sirg calmly swung his mace and struck the soldier’s head.
Quiet down!
Thud!
The soldier trembled and fell to the ground. He had lost consciousness due to a concussion.
The enemy’s gaze changed.
That knight, his power is incredible, just like his appearance!
“You fools who want to die, come at me one by one!”
Sirg shouted, filled with confidence.
It was because he realized that he was now the king.
However, the pursuers did not mindlessly continue the chase.
“Bring out the crossbow!”
“Yes!”
The pursuers took out the crossbows they had prepared in advance.
Some writers call it a crossbow, but a crossbow is just a name, in reality, it’s a bow that shoots stones.
A crossbow, also known as a arbalest or steel bow, is precisely what that crossbow is.
Sirg’s complexion paled as he looked at the crossbows.
And the whale cried out.
“Oh, you cowardly scoundrels! How dare you wield bows and arrows against an honorable knight! If you were real men, let’s fight fair and square!”
In the medieval battlefield, knights are monsters.
Sturdy armor! Hefty weaponry!
A knight armed with tight chainmail and a shield is an unstoppable killing machine.
However…
Historically, monsters were weak against bows and arrows.
Knights were no exception.
“Fire!”
The crossbows simultaneously shot bolts.
“Wait, hold on! Surrender! I surrender…!”
Sirg hastily raised his shield and shouted, but it was too late.
From the moment the crossbows were aimed, it was as if the enemies had already declared that they had no intention of sparing Sirg’s life. They intended to kill him.
If he had been a knight from a well-known family…
But as a mere killer from humble origins, Sirg’s name still held little value.
Sirg fell before the barrage of bolts.
“He really killed our brothers.”
Someone spat on the ground.
Unlike the tightly-knit Count’s army, Graeme’s forces were comprised of many close friends.
Ever since Sirg enthusiastically organized an experience party, he had become the target of their disdain.
“Come on! Marquis! Surrender now…”
As they kneeled, the soldiers approached the marquis, leaving Sirg behind.
Even if Sirg wasn’t dead, they thought he was at least incapacitated.
…But that was a gross oversight of Sirg’s resilience.
“Ugh, ughhhhh!”
With bolts piercing through his body, Sirg, reminiscent of a giant cactus, sprang to his feet!
“He’s gone mad!”
“Is that thing even human?”
The enemy soldiers cursed as they aimed their crossbows.
It was an action that should not have been taken.
“Wait! The marquis behind me…!”
Unlike the calmness of the first shot, the second was chaotic.
It was even more so because Sirg was charging forward.
“No! Don’t shoot! The marquis is behind him!”
Someone shouted wisely, but it was impossible to follow that order.
A half-orc warrior of mixed human and pig blood was rushing forward, the only means of resistance being the crossbows.
As the crossbows appeared before them, the marquis also paled at the sight.
“Sirg! Protect me!”
Even though he was in the midst of fleeing, the marquis believed he wouldn’t die.
The one who started the war won’t die, will he?
Something was off, but for the nobility, it was a natural occurrence.
Once they captured the count, whether for negotiation or to steal Lucy, it was inevitable.
So naturally, the count had to stay alive.
However… if the crossbow appeared, the situation would be different.
That is definitely not “capture” equipment, but rather meant for killing.
The wooden bolt would surely recognize the nobility of his status and would not let the count escape!
“Ooooh!”
The best scenario would be for Sylg to regain his senses and protect the count.
But even when he was in his right mind, Sylg lacked reason, so it was impossible for him to make rational judgments in his half-crazed state.
Driven mad by pain, Sylg rushed towards the enemies.
And just as the count cursed and tried to escape the crossbow’s trajectory…
Ping!
The soldier’s crossbow was fired.
Sylg lowered his body and avoided the bolt.
The lost arrow…
Precisely, it lodged deep in the back of the count’s neck.
“…!”
“…!”
“…!”
“Uncle!”
Lucy screamed.
As if time had frozen, no one could regain their composure.
“What… what?”
“This damn mess!”
The Duke’s escort, bewildered, fled immediately.
Sirg, his eyes already rolled back, was too preoccupied slaughtering soldiers to pay attention.
Only Lucy ran towards the fallen Duke.
The soldiers, busy resisting the monsters disguised as humans, had no time to check on the Duke’s condition.
“Uncle… uncle!”
Lucy was now shedding hot tears unconsciously.
Despite speaking to the Duke several times, he could only produce incoherent sounds.
He couldn’t even leave a dying wish.
“Uncle…”
Looking at the fallen Duke, Lucy felt profound sorrow.
The Duke, who had led an army to assist her with a single-minded determination to help her, now lay dead.
Like this.
“Sorry… I’m sorry…”
Lucy sobbed.
The Duke’s death felt like her fault. If she hadn’t asked for help, the Duke wouldn’t have died.
Meanwhile, the battle between the pursuers and Sirg continued.
Thud!
The one who fell to the ground was Sirge.
It was inevitable. It was remarkable that he had managed to move after being hit with so many bolts.
The soldiers who had barely subdued Sirge sighed in despair as they discovered the dead viscount.
“This is…!”
The situation had gone terribly wrong.
The viscount had to be captured alive, but it was already too late.
But there was no other choice. If they hadn’t shot the crossbow, it would have been them who died.
The pursuers tried to move their bodies to secure Lucy at least.
But then.
“[O darkness!]”
Lucy’s eyes snapped open.
This voice. And this unfamiliar language…!
“Ian!”
It was the sorcerer, Ian.
The originally dark forest was engulfed in darkness conjured by Ian, rendering it unrecognizable.
The sound of hoofbeats echoed.
And someone lifted Lucy onto a horse.
At that moment…
Even though the face was not visible.
In the embrace of the hand holding her, Lucy’s heart raced madly.
It was clearly a strange sensation she had never felt before in her life.
“Lucy! The viscount!”
“… Has returned!”
“I really don’t like this at all! Damn it!”
In an instant, the words escaped the darkness.
Only then did Lucy pull herself away and, facing Ian, could see his face as he spoke.
“The Black Knight is following us now!”
“T-The Black Knight?”
“Yes! We need to shake him off first, so let’s head to the river!”
Hmm