25 – Report on the Fall of Purity (End)
Cain’s sword drew a bold trajectory. From below, at a diagonal angle upward. The knight with the sword hilt upright alone could easily block the attack.
Indeed, the knight took that stance. It was a stance Cain hadn’t expected.
Cunningly twisting the right wrist, he gripped it in reverse. Like an assassin stabbing with a dagger, Cain collided with the knight’s sword.
The sluggish knight couldn’t block the rush with the sword hilt. And once inside the sword hilt, both attacks and defenses could be avoided.
Cain drew the sword as it was. The shadow split, and blood splattered. The darkening blood of a dying person. But it wasn’t fatal.
“Oh no.”
The knight’s fist flew. With a thud, it stuck into Cain’s abdomen. He managed to deflect it with his left arm, but the chainmail offered some protection, yet his insides twisted.
Cain’s world flipped. He tumbled backward with a thud, and the back of his head, slammed onto the ground, throbbed in pain.
The knight approached. Approaching with blood dripping dead bodies. Cain wanted to laugh. The collapsing monastery. Corpses impaled on shadow stakes consumed by black flames. And now, himself, about to be struck by the knight’s sword. Mercilessly azure sky. And the knight rising to the pinnacle.
Cain didn’t close his eyes. Until the very end, he tried to avoid it. Rolling his body, thrusting the sword… but the Imperial Sword was far away. His right hand was empty.
A shadow loomed. The knight’s sword did not reach Cain. With a clank, it stopped in mid-air. The sword, blocked by another sword.
“Hey. What did I… say…”
Lily swung her arm. Clang! Flames burst between the blades with a sound. Lily, without hesitation, struck down the Black Knight’s wrist. Though not a particularly powerful blow, the knight trembled and stepped back.
“Understood.”
Lily muttered.
“…What?”
“The Code of Reproach. Understood. I will block. Block and strike. That’s how we win. Alone, it’s impossible, but together, we can.”
Lily drew the Imperial Sword, blocking Cain’s path.
“I will buy time until you recover.”
The knight in the armor, lifting the scabbard, spoke after a while.
“You. You… understand. You… don’t want to harm. Retreat.”
“Who are you?”
Lily held the sword straight, aligning the blade at eye level. The knight replied after a long pause.
“I am… a knight.”
Lily tilted her head.
“A knight is someone who protects honor, protects the weak, keeps vows, and guards their own heart with a firm spirit. Even if a knight is strong, if their heart is broken, they are not a knight. Even if one hasn’t been formally knighted, if they have an upright heart, they are already a knight. So I ask. Are you truly a knight?”
“I am a knight!”
“Is the current appearance truly the one you, without a doubt, envisioned as a knight?”
The knight hesitated. Lily remained unfazed, even the tip of her sword.
“I persecuted those who persecuted me. Oppressed those who oppressed me. Struck back at those who struck me. Dealt harshly with those who treated me harshly. I merely repaid them for what they did to me! I only sought revenge!”
“I didn’t ask what you’ve done. I asked if you are a knight.”
“What are you doing!”
The tired crow seemed to caw. The knight raised his sword. The flickering flames around him surged like a snake, hissing.
“You, who blabber on and on in front of me! Are you also an unjust person like him? Are you also a godless person like him? Are you, like him! Saying that I am wrong!”
Liliana drew her sword. The knight hesitated and stepped back. But Liliana, she only raised her crossguard up to eye level.
“I am a sword that cuts through swords…”
A slow and firm declaration.
“I am a shield that blocks shields and a spear that pierces spears. An arrow that hits its target and a fortress that crumbles fortresses. I am the rider of the double-headed eagle, a Valkyrie of the Crimson Knights, a Skaldmær. I am Liliana Brunhild, a knight of the Crimson Order.”
Until white blood flows on the ground once again, I swear to live as a knight and die as a knight.
Oh, adversary. Ask yourself. Are you the one who will take my breath away today?”
There is no answer. The knight asked again.
“Ask yourself. Are you really going to challenge me with your sword?”
There is no answer. The knight asked one last time.
“Ask yourself. Do you truly believe that you can defeat me?”
There is no answer. Liliana met the knight’s sword with her own. After raising the crossguard up to eye level, she lowered it diagonally to the right. The sunlight cut by the sword scattered like sparks.
“In that case, I will gladly break you.”
Knight Liliana held her breath. Cain thought so foolishly.
Of course, it was a mistake. Liliana, no. Knight Liliana, not an agent, simply stood still with her sword raised at eye level. It was a normal defensive stance.
It was calm. Just calm. Yet the knight hesitated. Like a lumberjack standing in front of a towering and massive tree, doubting his weak arms and dull axe.
As the knight hesitated, Liliana extended her sword. Her left hand firmly grasped the lower part of the hilt, while her right hand loosely held it as if shaking hands with a knife handle. The tip of the sword aimed at the black knight’s neck.
In the textbook, it was the typical long-range defensive stance. The Valkyrie of the Blood Knights stood firm, keeping her feet planted.
Despite being at least fifteen steps away, the knight’s shoulders in the darkness trembled. The shadows lurking around growled like ferocious dogs.
Yet, Lily did not make a loud sound of breath. She just took one more step forward.
The knight in darkness roared. A sword emerged from the shadows. Severed wrists of the knights, bitten arms, and a spear stuck into the body all protruded, piercing Lilyana’s body.
Lilyana didn’t evade the spear. Instead, she met it with her sword. With a swift push, she deflected the blow with the momentum, causing a disturbance in the wooden staff. The spear lost its strength and fell.
She immediately lowered her wrist. Before the falling sword reached the ground, she sliced through the shadow’s backhand with her knife. The hand split, and the sword thudded to the ground.
She continued pushing the sword forward, stopping it abruptly. With her right leg stretched forward, she thrust. From the back of the black knight’s hand to the elbow, she made a clean cut, then pulled back her leg and stood the sword upright.
The knight rushed forward, swinging the sword. A slightly slanted vertical cut, descending from top to bottom. Lilyana waited for the right moment. The moment the knight swung the sword. The moment it reached its zenith. She recalled each movement, each exchange of strikes, between Cain and the sparring.
Speed. Sensation. Movement. Habit.
When the sword fell, Lilyana’s sword had already shot up from bottom to top. She had no intention of blocking the falling sword.
Thrusting when there’s a thrust, cutting when there’s a cut. Dealing more forcefully, faster, and more accurately is the teaching of the Blood Knights.
If it were a fabric, perhaps she could easily have cut about half of the black knight’s arm, or at least one wrist.
However, the knight wore armor. It was a repulsive armor, but it still managed to block the blade.
But that was it. The knight who allowed a single strike wavered. As the posture opened up, numerous gaps were exposed.
Holding her breath, enduring, when the last pebble fell, just like Mount Tai collapsing with a rumble, Lilyana switched from defense to offense.
She penetrated the openings in the black armor. She struck down, overcame, and slashed. The falling sword was blocked by the tip of the Imperial Sword.
Was the Imperial Sword slightly bent? Similar, but not quite. It wasn’t bent; Lilyana deliberately twisted the sword. She knew it would shorten the lifespan of the sword, but she understood the wrath of the sword.
A sword forced to bend, a sword insulted, how quickly it straightens itself.
Lilyana didn’t appease the sword. She didn’t ignore it either. She just slightly twisted her wrist, indicating the path the anger should take. The sword, already intensified by the fierce turn, tore through the knight’s armor and burst into the knight’s neck.
The knight instinctively tilted its head.
“It’s now!”
Liliana swung the sword, sweeping away the scabbard.
A completely empty front. Cain extended the Imperial Sword. Through the gap soaked in the neck Liliana had created, amidst the armor, moistened by sweat.
Irreversible, unblockable, unavoidable. Inevitable.
– Kyros.
And the emergence of shadows is also inevitable.
The helmet of the knight trapped in darkness was arbitrarily removed. Though beneath it was a quivering shadow, Cain recognized the face that appeared in the shadow.
A shadow of her face whispered. In the brief moment the sword pierced the neck.
– Are you really going to kill me again? Your fiancée, me? Like that day?
The words were frighteningly spoken as the sword plunged into the neck. If it wasn’t for that moment of hesitation, the head would have already rolled back.
But due to the momentary hesitation, the neck was only shallowly cut. Again. Like he did to her, again.
– Betrayer… coward… run away. It suits you.
“aaah!”
His arms couldn’t move. Cain exerted force on his legs. Forcibly, like pushing a locked door, he pushed it all the way in.
The sword pierced through the knight’s neck.
Unable to pull out the sword, Cain let go of it.
The knight staggered, staggered backward, and then stumbled, falling backward.
Thud. Thud. No meaningful words came from the pierced throat. What came out was the murky blood.
– My love. See you in hell.
A massive explosion resounded.
The lifeless bodies rose from the crumbling Otranto cloister. What had adhered to me, seemingly at my will, had transformed into a colossal beast.
Unfurling wings made of horse’s spine and a blood membrane crafted from intestines, the dragon with scales in place of skin extended its wings. The faces of people it had consumed were now adorned with scales instead of scales. Inspector Bartolomeo and Father Haspel’s faces were among them.
As if it were a sewer, shadows converged towards the dragon. The charred bodies of Mercy Knights, horse torsos ablaze with half dripping blood, hands still gripping sergeant’s weapons, and heads impaled on axes gathered.
At the forefront, there was a black-armored knight holding a sword.
– Do not wait for you.
“Someone like a parasite on another’s body…”
Cain spat. The ‘real’ knight of the black armor looked silently at Cain and Lily. Turning, he climbed onto the dragon’s back and flew off to the horizon like a passing nightmare.
“Cough. Cough.”
The squire shed tears. To one who could have become an excellent holy knight but lost everything in a moment of passion, light bestowed a final mercy.
Feeble light surrounded both hands. The squire pressed it against his throat.
Although still embedded in black, the wound had barely healed. It wasn’t for the sake of wanting to live. It was to ask the final question of life.
Already, he knew that he couldn’t survive. The pupils dilated and gradually stiffened. He was a body that could no longer live.
“… A knight… you were…”
“Yes.”
Knight Lilliana knelt. She placed her hand on the forehead of the one who was once an enemy. The squire’s eyes shook up and down.
“I also… wanted to become a knight. In that case…”
Squeak. Squeak. The wind blew. His face already revealed a skull. Flesh transformed into a mushy texture, exposing blood vessels. Lily gently brushed his hair aside.
“In that case…”
“…It’ll hurt a little less.”
Sigh. As if the body of the apprentice knight was swelling, it slowly subsided. A whistling sound. Now, as if finding a place to rest. Lily closed his eyes.
“Well done.”
Cain looked at the creature flying helplessly with despair in his eyes. Lily crumbled. A suppressed cry flowed from her crouched body on the ground.
“Well done…”
“Yeah… it’s over. It’s finally over. You did well. Really well.”
Cain mumbled, not even knowing what he was saying.
Nothing was over. Nothing was resolved. What he and Lily faced was nothing more than shadows. A madman wielding a sword, dancing in the shadows.
However, in the midst of his erratic words, Lily burst into tears.
It was not a swallowed cry but a burst, a release, a soothing cry. Releasing accumulated tension, pressing and releasing fear, shedding and emptying.
Even the filthy rock mountain that wouldn’t grow a blade of grass acknowledged it,
From Noble mtl dot com
Lily embraced Cain, cried, and cried until she exhaustedly fell asleep.
The Imperial Sword, stuck in the throat of the deceased, sparkled. The nauseating light pierced the eyes. But Cain opened his eyes. He couldn’t shut them. He comforted Lily’s back, gazing at the horizon.
Long ago, on a summer night in Venice, just like when he stabbed a knife into his fiancée’s body.