Chapter 220 - The aroma of the tea was bitter (1)

A horse fell on the plain where the blue moon rose.

With a solid silver line powerfully drawn.

The two shadows that had finally met crossed in an instant, and all that was left for the one left behind was to fall to the cold ground.

Boom!

With a thunderous noise, the snowflakes on the ground rose again to the sky.

For the Arnstein knights running behind, it was a scene that looked like a fountain of white snow.

"I hate you guys."

-······!

Where a phantom horse ran, now a black horse ran.

The horse's erect horn was filled with the cold color of winter.

"So much so that I want to cut off your heads again."

The world we encounter must be chosen.

Will we be together, or will we trample each other's world?

And Vlad had already decided which choice he would make.

-You insolent bastard!

-You brat who doesn't value your life!

The Headless Knights, who understood Vlad's decision, quickly extended their swords, but Vlad was no longer there.

-No······.

What was there was only a shadow left by the black horse.

This was because Noir's movements deceived even the experienced knights, and he escaped the scene before they realized it.

Heeeeeee-!

Until a moment ago, the center of gravity was leaning to the right, but the shadow of the black horse had already moved to the left.

The tips of the extended swords in that dazzling movement trembled, with no place to go.

"Where are the children?"

-Aaaah!

Each time a silver line was drawn, without fail, the running horses stumbled, and fountains of white snow began to form.

It was a land that had tried not to be trodden until now, but there was no mercy in the tip of Vlad's sword, and indeed, the Headless Knights who had been lying on the ground for a long time could not get up.

"Where did you take them?"

Noir gradually began to accelerate, trampling the knights who fell one by one.

The unicorn blood flowing through Noir was the blood that would not allow any being to run in front of him.

Even if those beings were things that had escaped death.

-Damned!

Cutting one, crushing another, and knocking down yet another.

And so, Noir began to hit his shoulder roughly against the Headless Knight who finally caught up with him.

Other horses were sinister ghost horses that didn't even want to get close, but those things didn't seem to matter to Noir, the son of the plains.

Boom!

"…I guess hitting anyone is the standard way of looking for someone."

-What?

Vlad, who was clinging to the man, suddenly held the reins tightly in his hands.

However, the reins were not Noir's, but the old reins the Headless Knight was supposed to hold.

"So, why don't we talk a bit?"

-······!

Crack!

At that moment, with a creepy sound of armor breaking, the Headless Knight began to stumble noisily.

However, the stumble was not caused by the sword piercing the body, but by Vlad's movements, which were very heavy.

-Puaj!

Vlad jumped onto the phantom horse without hesitation, grabbed the Headless Knight, and started pushing him off.

With the dragon-slaying sword still in one hand.

The silver sword that pierced the black armor seemed to shine even more today.

"Aaaah!"

Two knights fell from their horses faster than anything else.

The sensation of floating was dizzying enough to make even the dead scream, but unlike the Headless Knight who simply fell helplessly, Vlad had solid armor he could rely on.

Thud! Boom! Thud!

The armor that the elves created and the dwarves forged.

Although it rolled noisily, the winter plains rolling along with the worlds they shared seemed to show a slightly softer side of Vlad.

"…What an incredible thing."

Rodrigo and Arnstein's knights, who had been following for a while, were also watching the scene.

A silver light shone between two knights rolling noisily as if a landslide had occurred.

Although it was a disaster, Rodrigo saw that the light kept shining and trusted that he had found the right person.

***

"Good job. Sir Vlad Aureo."

The weather outside was cold, but the warmth of the fire in the fireplace was comforting.

For Vlad, who had been rolling in the snow until recently, the warmth was necessary.

"Thank you, Count."

Vlad, wrapped in a blanket, snorted when he saw the steam silently rising from the cup of tea.

It was tea delivered directly by Count Arnstein, the leader of the central region, but Vlad's expression as he looked at the tea seemed to show a hint of disappointment.

"Did you rescue the children?"

"Those who were there."

"…I see."

It must be a night when you need hot alcohol instead of warm tea.

However, Vlad, who had no intention of rejecting the Count's favor, accepted the tea in silence and frowned.

"I thought it was something suspicious, but I didn't expect someone so powerful to be involved."

The Count's expression as he drank his cup of tea was full of worry that he couldn't hide.

That's because there were many Headless Knights who fell, but the only one left was pierced by Vlad's sword.

The other men had already fallen into the black circle and disappeared without a trace, just like in the previous village full of fog.

"It's a pretty curious sword. My wizard assumes that your sword has caused these phenomena."

"Is that so."

Count Arnstein was making a strange expression as he looked at the silver sword Vlad held.

Rodrigo hasn't told him yet, but if he discovers that Vlad's sword is believed to belong to the Silver Knight, his attitude would change.

"By the way, did something like this also happen in the city of Moshiam?"

"That's right. Count."

The tragedy that happened in the distant northern city was just a rumor in the central region.

However, Count Arnstein was now in a position where he had to desperately search even for the rumor that was spreading.

"I don't know what it is, but it seems like something grand has happened."

Pablo was silently making eye contact behind the Count, who was stroking his chin as if it hurt.

Although he couldn't show his joy due to the gravity of the situation, he was the one who pulled Vlad out of the snow with his shield.

"A sinister entity that consumes an entire city…"

Incidents like this did not occur at all in the long history of the empire.

At any time, evil beings lurked in the darkness and worked in secret, and the people who had to resolve the situation each time were the emperors and lords, the landowners.

"…You arrived at a troublesome time. Just now."

However, unlike before, now is a time when the foundations of power are more shaken than ever.

For Count Arnstein, who had to worry not only about the movements of other lords in contact with the territory but also about an unknown evil entity, another burden was added.

"Why not invite the Vatican priests? They would be of great help."

"That would be another problem."

Vlad thought that even the Vatican, with whom he had a difficult relationship, would have to lend its power to resolve the situation.

However, the Count's soon-to-be-heard response contained only another complicated situation that Vlad didn't know about.

"Why?"

"Because I follow the Grand Duke."

Grand Duke or Duke of the Dragon? The many territorial wars in the center were actually battles between the Grand Duke and the Dragon Blood Duke.

And since Count Arnstein, whom Vlad was now facing, was also a member of the faction following the Grand Duke, it was obvious that the Vatican, which was cooperating with the Dragon Blood Duke, would probably not provide adequate support.

"…Then, at least for the Northern Orthodox Church."

"That is even more unacceptable."

The Count's eyes glowed coldly as he set down the teacup.

It was the true face of the Count, with the blue blood of nobility shining through him.

"Turning to the Northern Union is giving justification to other lords. It would be like handing my body to a pack of wolves."

"…"

Vlad simply nodded and remained silent as he listened to the Count's words.

The firewood in the fireplace was burning intensely behind him, and the steam from the cup of tea rose in front, but for some reason, Vlad felt the room getting colder.

"I understand, Count. You are someone who has something to protect, so you must take your actions seriously."

"Thank you for noticing."

The Vatican was a place where an evil being roamed freely, but it did not abandon the flow of power.

Likewise, Count Arnstein had no intention of approaching the Northern Orthodox Church.

If we separate them, each person can be right, but in the end, only the powerless people will suffer between them.

"The tea is bitter."

It was all bitter.

Vlad could only swallow bitter saliva thinking that the upper world he had worked so hard to climb was ultimately nothing more than a dead end.

***

Above the east, two elderly men walked with difficulty and with their heads bowed.

The clothes they wore were disheveled, making them look like beggars, but among them, the tall old man still had a bright light in his eyes.

"This is…"

"Valetta. Where you wanted to be."

Along with the brightening horizon, the people who had been waiting until now began to gather in front of the castle gate that was slowly opening.

As expected of a large, well-known city in the central region, it seemed full of travelers and peddlers coming and going.

"Thank you for bringing us here. You said your name was Sandor, right?"

"…"

The scarred man who was guiding the old men showed no emotion at the old man's words of gratitude.

Even the old man who spoke to him wore an uncomfortable expression at the dullness of the man, who was harder than black bread.

"Welcome to the Northern Alliance, Bishop Pedro."

A raven flew behind the man as he slowly turned around.

"I hope you act according to your reputation."

Overlooking the city of Valetta, the old man and the scarred man walked away.

Bishop Pedro, observing the scarred man, supported another elderly man who was coughing slightly and began to walk towards Valetta.

"…As expected, I don't like these northerners at all."

A faithful servant of God who does not regret the path he has taken so far, but who is unsure of the path that awaits him.

Bishop Pedro began his arduous journey, not to follow the Vatican or the Northern Orthodox Church, but simply the path to God.

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