Chapter 57: The Imperial General’s Wish

Re-written date: 7 / 17 / 2025

. . . . . . . . . . . 

Chapter 57: The Imperial General's Wish

It happened on the same day filming wrapped up for Goblin Slayer.

Far to the south, within the ducal mansion of Rockhold, the main city of the southern territory—

"...A movie?"

The word came suddenly from the elderly man seated comfortably at the far end of the hall.

Hearing it, Imperial Knight Commander Wycliffe froze, blinking in disbelief.

"Pardon, sir? What did you say just now? A movie?"

The old man gave a chuckle, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

"Yes, that's right—a movie. I hear something fascinating has popped up here in the South. Apparently, there's a theater showing them nearby in Nosrick City. Sounds interesting, doesn't it?"

"Wha—? N-No, that won't do at all, sir!" Wycliffe quickly protested, his voice rising slightly in alarm. "We're here to discuss military strategy with Grand Duke Viktor of the southern territory regarding the coming war against the Beastkin Kingdom! We can't afford to waste time on trivial entertainment like this!"

But the general only gave a wry smile and waved off the knight's concerns, clearly unwilling to argue.

Wycliffe's head throbbed as he realized just how serious his superior was about this. For a moment, he could hardly believe it. Then, frustration boiling over, he turned and shouted toward the doorway:

"Rhine! Rhine, you little brat—get your ass over here!! You're the one who brought this nonsense up with the general, weren't you?!"

"..."

From behind the door, a younger knight sheepishly stepped out, scratching the back of his head.

"Uhh— S-Sir, I mean— I just mentioned it in passing on our way back. I wasn't promoting it or anything, I swear!"

"You idiot! When we return, you're getting dumped in the rookie camp for a full month of training! No food, no breaks!!"

"Whyyyyyyy?! That's hell!!!"

Yes—here in the ducal residence of Rockhold, this was the current state of affairs: Wycliffe, the no-nonsense Imperial Knight Commander, his rowdy apprentice Rhine, and above them all, General Wilhelm—the man who now commanded the entire Imperial Army. They were stationed here temporarily to meet with Grand Duke Viktor Constantine for discussions about the war effort.

While the bickering duo made a scene in front of him, Wilhelm simply laughed, watching them with the warm patience of a grandfather.

"Don't hold me on a pedestal," the old general said. "I used to be nothing more than a humble carriage driver."

Wycliffe immediately straightened up.

"Sir, you're far too modest! Everyone knows you were once the royal carriage driver for His Majesty—back when he was still a prince!"

Wilhelm's expression twitched.

"You didn't have to say it out loud, you know…"

But with that, the general rose to his feet, brushing the subject aside with a grin.

"Well then, let's go watch one. A movie. They say this technology might change the entire world one day."

"Hmph. It's just a parlor trick cooked up by a bunch of bored Southern nobles," Wycliffe scoffed, folding his arms with a snort. "If you ask me, those Beastkin gladiator arenas are a thousand times more thrilling than any so-called movie. If it weren't for the Empire abolishing slavery, I would've had one built already."

That blunt declaration laid his values bare—and it wasn't all talk. Ever since Wycliffe had taken his position as Knight Commander, he'd run the Imperial Knights with a strict, ironclad discipline. The entire order had become sharper, cleaner, deadlier. Even the regular army had grown more capable under his influence.

But with his hardened discipline came an equally hardened worldview. Wycliffe wasn't just a military man—he was a war hawk, through and through. When the conflict with the Beastkin Kingdom first flared up, he'd been the first to call for war. He had no backing from any interest group, yet his conviction burned hotter than any political faction. He was the kind of man who didn't need a trigger to bite.

So for someone like him, movies—or stage plays, or any kind of "entertainment"—were all the same: useless distractions.

"Still, you should come along and see it, Wycliffe," Wilhelm said cheerfully. "Relax. I heard these movies are nothing like plays. At the very least, you won't fall asleep halfway through."

"I'll pass. You and Rhine go. I've got training to do."

Wilhelm just laughed at his stubbornness.

"Training, huh? You think I don't know?" the old general said, half amused, half exasperated. "Ever since you broke through to the Sword Saint rank, you've been standing at a dead end. Swordsmanship caps at five ranks—Sword Saint is the peak. Beyond that is a realm humans can't even glimpse. And for all these years, aside from that one legendary individual, no one—no matter how talented—has taken the next step."

He paused before continuing.

"At our level, all we can do is maintain our edge. There's no more room to climb."

Wycliffe fell silent, the words hitting harder than he cared to admit.

"But, General... you've almost made it to the next rank, haven't you?"

The Knight Commander's voice had lost its usual steel. There was something quietly defeated about it.

He knew Wilhelm was only stating facts—truths he'd heard time and again. But that didn't make them any easier to swallow. Especially not when the man standing before him was the living embodiment of the summit he could never reach. A walking reminder that the path hadn't truly ended—it had simply left him behind.

That gap between them... it still burned.

It still drove him.

Wilhelm, meanwhile, seemed to drift into his memories, his tone softening.

"Yeah... just one step away," he murmured. "But that one step has taken me a lifetime. And honestly, if I hadn't met that man during the northern campaign, I probably wouldn't have made it this far either."

"Oh! You're talking about your mysterious savior again, right?!" Rhine suddenly chimed in, clearly unable to hold back his excitement. "I remember! You told me! You got separated from the main force and ended up surrounded by undead in the chaos land beyond the Northern Border, and just when things looked hopeless, this headless knight appeared out of nowhere and saved you—and that whole experience helped your swordsmanship reach the level it is today, right?!"

"Hahaha~ You little brat…"

Wilhelm gave a helpless smile. Rhine's sudden interruption had caught him off guard, but he couldn't really be mad. Honestly, it was his own fault for telling that story so many times.

Even so, it still wasn't enough. No matter how many times he told the story, it never felt like enough.

Because Wilhelm knew—he understood—just how deeply the world misunderstood the Headless Knight.

And if all he could do was offer his voice, then he would. Again and again, for the rest of his days if needed. It was the least he could do to repay the debt he owed.

That knight wasn't some evil undead monster. Far from it.

He was the one who had given Wilhelm the push he needed to become the man he was today—the Empire's highest general.

It all went back decades.

Back when Wilhelm was still in his prime, not yet the revered general of the Empire, but already one of the top knights in the Imperial Order. In a moment of youthful ambition, he'd asked the then-Knight Commander for a squad of men to take north—beyond the borders of the Empire—to challenge the monsters and undead that lurked in the Northern chaos land. He believed the trials would push him past the threshold, allow him to break into the Sixth Rank.

But he'd underestimated that land.

The chaos land beyond the northern territory was nothing like he'd imagined. Within just two days of entering the territory, his squad was ambushed by an overwhelming force of monstrous abominations. Had it not been for the sudden appearance of a mysterious knight—one cloaked in black armor and missing a head—Wilhelm wouldn't have survived. He would have been nothing more than a feast for the beasts.

Even now, the image was burned into his memory: that towering figure, dark as night, charging into the swarm of twisted monsters, cutting them down with swordsmanship that defied all logic and reason.

A display of power so overwhelming, so inhuman, it tore the battlefield apart.

That moment—that sword—had been etched into Wilhelm's very soul.

Even after returning to human lands, he could never forget it.

For years, he searched for that Headless Knight, following rumor after rumor, tale after tale.

But no one ever gave him an answer.

Because to most of humanity, the undead were evil by default. The Church preached it. The common folk believed it.

And even he, as the Empire's General, could do nothing to challenge that belief directly.

He could only share the story with carefully chosen ears, hoping someone—anyone—might one day believe the truth.

Decades passed. His youth faded.

And though he'd never had the chance to repay the favor… he also had never stopped regretting it.

More than that, he remembered—clearly—the technique the Headless Knight used. It had been beyond the human limit. That one moment was what allowed Wilhelm to break through to the peak of Sword Saint, a level no one else in the Empire had reached.

And yet, he could go no further.

That technique… that one step forward… it remained a wall he could not climb.

A barrier he couldn't even see clearly anymore.

But—if he could meet that knight again, even just once—Maybe—

Maybe he could take that final step.

Wilhelm snapped out of his thoughts with a smile.

"Anyway, Wycliffe. Don't be so stubborn. Since we've already come all the way to the southern territory, we might as well enjoy ourselves a little. You should learn from Rhine—at least he's open-minded about new things."

Wycliffe sighed. His pride wanted to argue—but orders were orders.

And this was General Wilhelm. The highest authority in the military. Even as Knight Commander, there was no room to refuse.

"…Understood, sir," he said at last, begrudgingly nodding.

Rhine, who had been quietly watching the exchange, suddenly lit up with excitement.

Finally!

He'd been dying to see what all the fuss was about ever since their first day in the South. But duty kept him too busy.

Now, with General Wilhelm himself giving the go-ahead, he was finally getting his chance.

'At last,' he thought, practically bouncing in place, 'I get to see one of those movies that has the whole southern territory buzzing!'