I Pulled Out the Excalibur

Chapter 42



Chapter 42 – Merchant’s District (3)

The merchant street turned chaotic.
Defeated, the knight and his noble master, Danor, turned red-faced, pointing fingers at Najin. A worthless tale, buoyed by pretense and status.

Even the crowd gathered in the street knew this was the flailing of a loser. A noise unworthy of attention.

“It’s gotten noisy.”

Dieta had no desire to listen to such noise, nor did she want it to interrupt this moment. Having stood up with Najin’s escort, she whispered to him.

“Shall we run away?”
“Is it okay to run?”
“We can deal with the aftermath later. I’m enjoying myself right now and don’t want that spoiled.”

I don’t want to think about that right now.
Najin nodded at Dieta, who seemed to say just that. He scanned the street and then glanced at Dieta’s shoes. They were not suitable for running.

Najin crouched down and showed his back to Dieta.

“…Will you carry me?”
“Didn’t you say we’re running away?”

It’s hard to run in those shoes.
Najin’s tone was indifferent, devoid of any personal sentiment. Hesitating for a moment, Dieta carefully climbed onto his back.

Startled.

Dieta trembled slightly as she placed her palms on Najin’s back. She hadn’t realized it before, but his back was surprisingly firm. Muscles, cracked and hardened, could be felt through his thin leather garment.

“Hold onto my shoulders, not the clothes.”

Najin muttered this as he stood up.
Voices of the noisy crowd. The noble and the defeated knight pointing fingers and growling. Najin took a step forward, leaving all that noise behind.

And then, with a thud.

“Ahh…!”

Dieta’s body lurched forward suddenly.
Najin had started running in a crouched position. Holding onto his clothes felt like she might fall off, so Dieta wrapped her arms around Najin’s shoulders.

“Have you thought about where to go?”
“Anywhere, somewhere with no people…!”

Dieta shouted from atop the shaking back.
The sound of the wind whistling past her ears, the landscape flying by. Dieta pressed herself closer to Najin’s back.

‘This isn’t so bad…?’

It felt like she was the heroine in a fairy tale.
That thought was brief, as Dieta soon realized. Fairy tales were just that – tales. In reality, fleeing wasn’t so romantic.

“Hic!”

The continuously shaking back.
The rapidly changing scenery. The up and down bobbing view. The sprint of a Sword Expert-level warrior was too much for Dieta to handle.

‘I feel like vomiting…!’

To avoid the disaster of throwing up on Najin’s back, Dieta had no choice but to bite her lip.

“We’ve arrived.”

Najin stopped.
From midway, Dieta, unable to endure the motion sickness, had closed her eyes and buried her head into Najin’s neck. She slowly lifted her head.

“……”

Dieta wiped away the saliva on Najin’s neck with her sleeve and patted his shoulder.

“Let me down, please.”

With shaky legs, Dieta stood on the ground.
Taking deep breaths, she patted her chest. Her stomach was still churning, but taking deep breaths seemed to help.

Dieta looked around.

An open view. They were on a small hill overlooking the City of Opportunities, Cambria. The open view and the cool breeze were quite pleasant.

‘Was there such a place in the city?’

To Dieta, who always lived near the bustling merchant street and central guild, this was a rather unfamiliar place. It seemed to be a hill on the outskirts of the city.

“……”

Dieta silently glanced at Najin.
Najin, too, was silently looking down at the city. It was a familiar sight. After all, Najin was essentially a taciturn man, with little change in expression.

But because of that…

The smile Najin had shown earlier was unforgettable. It was like looking in a mirror. Dieta, flicking her lips, spoke up.

“Why did you do that?”

At Dieta’s question, Najin tilted his head. Looking at her as if it was obvious, he replied.

“I told you. I just didn’t like it.”
“My laughter?”
“More precisely, I disliked your resigned attitude. It was all too familiar.”

Najin said.

“I’m used to being treated this way. I’ve had enough of it, it doesn’t bother me anymore. They expect me to get angry, but I never will. I’ll keep smiling……”

The boy who always faked a smile in the underground city, murmured.

“That kind of smile. That’s what it was.”
“……”

Dieta was silent.

“I’m not bothered by it…”
“That’s a misconception. You think you’re not bothered because you’re used to it.”

Najin cut her off.
Looking straight at Dieta, he said.

“Strangers say it. If you ignore them, it’s over, isn’t it? Just move on. That’s all bullshit. What can’t be said with words?”

Najin scoffed.

“That works once or twice. But keep doing it, and it builds up. Continuously.”

From the age when he could read expressions and thoughts, Najin had always lived like that. Humbly bowing his head, living in resignation.

“There’s no one who isn’t affected. You just leave it be until it eats away at you. So, I just didn’t like that.”

Najin sighed.

“It might have been needless meddling, but it was just suffocating to me. Watching it just annoyed me.”
“Is that all?”
“Do I need more of a reason?”

It was a trivial reason.
And yet, it was significant. Dieta looked at the young man standing in front of her, her eyes half-closed. A faint smile formed on her lips.

“Is this who you are? This kind of person?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I thought you were silent, thorough, unemotional, and calculative.”

Dieta wasn’t wrong in her judgment.
The side of Najin that Dieta had seen was a fragment of his time as a hunting dog in the underground city. A time when he suppressed his emotions and lived in resignation.

Even if he shook it off after leaving the underground city.
That fragment still remained in Najin.

However, it couldn’t be said that it was his true nature. That was just a mask Najin wore; the real Najin was impulsive and emotional.

“I didn’t realize you were this impulsive.”
“My true nature is closer to this side.”

Najin let out a faint laugh.

“Just like you wear a mask, I too am just wearing one.”

Everyone wears a mask. It’s just that the masks of these two were particularly thick. Masks to hide their unfortunate childhoods.

Therefore.

“We’re similar. You and I.”

Dieta and Najin felt a sense of kinship with each other. Dieta exhaled a long breath as she gazed down at the cityscape of Cambria, the City of Opportunities.

Masks, huh.

It was the perfect description. Dieta smiled wryly. She had run away from her family, bearing the stigma of being the abandoned child, constantly on the move.

‘20 years.’

The mask created over her 20-year life was thick and sturdy. In front of the family head, her sisters, the servants, even her own mother, Dieta had always lived with a fake smile.

A mask forged over 20 years.

It wouldn’t break easily.
However, just moments ago, the young man in front of her had pried into the cracks of her mask, glimpsing what lay beyond. Dieta’s face, awkward yet refreshingly honest, revealed her true self.

Dieta took a deep breath and looked at Najin. He seemed a bit more relaxed than usual, wearing a light expression. That must be the ‘real’ him.

“…The abandoned whore of Arbenia.”

The gap in the stripped mask.
As she faced Najin through that gap, the noble’s words from earlier echoed in Dieta’s ears.

“…Excuse me.”
“Go ahead.”
“Aren’t you curious why I’m the abandoned child?”
“Not really.”
“That was a quick response.”
“It didn’t seem necessary to dig into that.”

Najin replied nonchalantly.

“If you want to keep it hidden, why should I pry?”

The nameplate he saw when they first met.
Seeing the scratched word ‘Arbennia’ on it, Najin guessed. To Dieta, her family was a past she wanted to shake off.

Was there really a need to know?

It was perhaps a form of consideration, indifference, or a defense mechanism. Like Dieta, Najin had many pasts he wanted to hide. However, his indifferent attitude was refreshing to Dieta.

“It’s intriguing, somehow.”
“So it seems.”

The sunset was approaching.
The end of the day. The time Najin had promised to escort her was until sunset. With the descending twilight, their noisy stroll was coming to an end.

“I had fun today.”

Dieta said.

“It was different than what I expected… but it was refreshing. Like you said, sometimes it’s good to just go with the flow.”

Dieta’s hair shimmered in the sunset light. She looked at Najin against the backdrop of the sunset.

“Hmm.”

She pondered, then let out a long breath. Along with a sigh, the fake smile and sly snake-like impression dropped from her face, revealing Dieta’s true self. The unmasked Dieta looked at Najin.

“I hope we can maintain a good relationship. 28-year-old adventurer, Mr. Ivan.”

Perhaps a false identity.
Yet, the laughter and actions Najin showed now were not false. Najin, revealing his true nature, smiled faintly and extended his hand towards Dieta.

Not a hand for escort.
Simply a hand for a handshake.

Najin offered a handshake to the real-faced Dieta. She cautiously clasped his hand. Her fingers, smelling of gold coins, met his calloused hand, hardened from wielding a sword.

“There’s something I wanted to say but couldn’t last time.”

Holding hands, Najin spoke.

“Since coming to the city, I’ve received a lot of help from you. You said it was mutually beneficial, but…”

Najin knew.
That everything was in his favor. He was aware of the ulterior motives but still, it was a fact that Dieta had helped him.

“Thanks to you, I could settle quickly and rise in ranks.”
“That’s due to your skills…”
“Even with skills, the opportunity came thanks to you.”

Rising quickly. Participating in the Red-Eyed Mercenaries’ mission. All were possible because of Dieta’s help.

“I owe you.”

So.

“Just once, anytime.”

Najin said.

“I will help without question or judgement, as long as it doesn’t stray too far from my principles.”
“That’s a vague promise.”

Dieta chuckled.
She disliked these kinds of verbal promises. Often, people would twist their words or fail to keep them, as she had witnessed countless times.

Preferably, they should write a contract. To leave legal evidence with precise conditions.

Typically, Dieta would have said that.
But today, she didn’t want to.

She liked the view from the hill, the cool air, and more than anything, the refreshing smile of the young man before her.

“Don’t go back on your word later.”
“I tend to keep my promises.”

“Knight of the Schulhauser family, Verheigen.”

The legend of King Arthur’s Round Table. The voice echoed in a square that seemed modeled after that legendary table.

“He has murdered my master.”

He had broken the code of loyalty to his master.

“He has slain my comrades.”

By betraying his comrades, he had broken the code.

“All his methods were dishonorable ambushes, and the sword he wielded held no pride.”

A sword without pride or honor.
A sword wielded in violation of the code.

“Lastly, he conspired with a demon. He stole a sealed artifact from the demon and gained power through a pact with it.”

The voice grew louder.
Anger resonated in the voice echoing across the square.

“Verheigen has lost his honor. He has discarded his pride. By conspiring with a demon, he has trampled upon the testament of the Knight King. Can such a being truly be called a knight?”

The answer came swiftly.
The knights gathered in the square unanimously declared. Absolutely not. He could no longer call himself a knight, nor should he be addressed as one.

“Verheigen has tarnished the honor and pride of a knight.”

The verdict was delivered.

“Therefore, we shall judge Verheigen.”

The one standing in the center of the square.
The most knightly of knights.
The leader of Atanga, Gotif, proclaimed.

“The tainted name of a knight can only be cleansed by a knight’s sword.”

Those who abide by the old knightly code.
The knights who judge other knights.
The knights of Atanga gathered in the square pounded the emblem of Atanga engraved in their respective places. Some on armor, others on swords, some on spears, and some on shields.

“Pursue and execute Verheigen.”

The judgment was passed and Atanga moved into action.

To uphold honor and pride.

In an age where the weight of the word ‘knight’ had seemingly lessened, it was still important to signal that there were lines that should not be crossed.


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