CHAPTER 22 –
From that day forward, every day for Isaiah became a living hell.
He realized that a living, breathing hell truly existed—and he learned that if it meant survival, he could adapt even to such a place.
“Whoa, look at the killing intent in that guy’s eyes. Who is he?”
“That’s Heathclear. He came two years ago and just completed his cadet training. They say he couldn’t even hold a sword when he arrived, but now he’s top of the class.”
To survive, he killed.
He gripped a sword, stabbed, and slashed.
He believed it was the only way he could live.
Only by staying alive could he avenge his family.
First, he had to find out who reported him. Then, he would kill the superior who had slaughtered his family so mercilessly.
That was what drove Isaiah to keep going.
“Tomorrow is the Oath Ceremony, huh.”
“……”
“Did you know, Heathclear? In Revilla, they say that taking the knight’s oath means throwing away your past. From that moment on, you become a new person.”
Isaiah stared at the fellow cadet who chattered on. He couldn’t even remember the guy’s name, yet the man acted friendly.
“I see.”
He replied indifferently. The cadet shrugged and walked away.
He didn’t need unnecessary relationships.
To achieve his goal, he didn’t need people pretending to be close.
Time passed, and the knight’s oath ceremony finally arrived.
For cadets, the Oath Ceremony was the most eagerly awaited moment.
“All the suffering you’re enduring now will be repaid once you become a knight.”
That’s what many knights had said, and the treatment of knights was, in fact, excellent.
That’s why Isaiah, too, had waited and longed to become a knight.
Once he was a knight, he could uncover the one who reported him.
He could take revenge on the person who ruined his life with a single accusation.
“We will now commence the Knight’s Oath Ceremony!”
His heart pounded.
The final step was within reach.
“To become a knight of Revilla is no different than abandoning your past and being reborn. Do you swear to live only for His Majesty the Emperor and for the glory of Revilla?”
“I swear.”
“Can you cast away your past, which was not lived for His Majesty?”
“I can.”
Ritualistic phrases were exchanged.
The responses were neither heartfelt nor sincere.
“Very well. Show your loyalty.”
A heavy sword rested on his shoulder. It was time to recite the oath he had been given in advance.
Isaiah took a short breath and opened his mouth.
“All things according to His Majesty’s will. I offer this body in full to serve his command. For His Majesty the Emperor, for the peace of great Revilla.”
At the very moment he finished the vow—
A sudden pain pierced his head, and his vision blurred.
He felt like he was swaying—or rather, like the entire world was warping.
It sounded like a buzzing was coming from far away. He could barely hear anything, and his vision twisted.
“I hereby appoint Isaiah Heathclear as a knight of Revilla.”
By the time proper sound returned to his ears, the ceremony was over, and the celebration had begun.
The newly sworn-in knights wore confused expressions, while their seniors handed them drinks, saying, “Everyone feels like that the first time.”
“Congratulations, Sir Heathclear.”
Someone approached and offered Isaiah a drink.
Isaiah awkwardly took the glass, and the man chuckled.
“Everyone seems dazed after the oath. You must’ve been really nervous—same with you and the others.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t scolding you. Today is a day of celebration. Drink and enjoy yourself. Now you can finally be rewarded for all the hardship of training.”
Isaiah simply nodded in response.
The cadet period had been brutal.
More than half didn’t survive, and those who did had to go through countless trials.
Only those who proved absolute loyalty to Revilla were allowed to become knights.
“Still, I heard you never lost the top spot since you became a cadet. That’s impressive.”
“It was possible because I had conviction.”
“Conviction? What kind of conviction?”
The senior looked at Isaiah with interest.
Just as he opened his mouth to reply, his breath caught—and no words came out.
‘What… was it?’
He couldn’t remember.
The reason he had worked so hard.
Why he had risked death to become a knight.
He couldn’t remember. In fact, the more he tried to think, the clearer a voice echoed in his mind.
“…For Revilla.”
He murmured the words, and the senior burst into laughter. As if he’d expected that answer, the dozen or so gazes that had been watching Isaiah vanished.
Isaiah looked down at his own hands with trembling eyes.
Something was wrong.
But he didn’t know what it was.
And so, without realizing it, he began to break.
Slowly.
“You’re already taking on an infiltration mission abroad?”
Isaiah nodded nonchalantly.
For a knight of Revilla, being assigned as a spy in another country meant they were trusted.
It was also the highest honor for a knight.
It meant the nation trusted them—and so did all the senior knights of Revilla.
“You never lost the top spot even as a cadet. I knew you’d do well. I’m proud of you.”
But the more praise he received, the more confused he felt.
Isaiah didn’t think of himself as a particularly diligent person.
He was someone who looked for shortcuts, who wanted to live an easy life.
If he had worked so hard that he never once lost the top position, there must have been a reason for that drive.
“I don’t remember.”
So Isaiah asked his trusted superior.
He said it felt like he had once lived with great purpose, but he couldn’t remember what that purpose was. His superior responded seriously.
“You swore to cast away your past when you became a knight.”
“……”
“If you forgot the passion that once drove you, it must be because it was something worth forgetting. For Revilla. And for yourself.”
A knight of Revilla needed only one kind of passion:
To live for Revilla and the Emperor alone.
Believing in that, without a single doubt, was the path to becoming a true knight.
So Isaiah buried his curiosity.
If it was something worth forgetting, then it must not have been that important to him.
So Isaiah convinced himself that Revilla and the Emperor were the keys that moved him.
“For His Majesty. For Revilla.”
If he kept moving forward, perhaps someday he’d understand the meaning of this burning passion.
After that day, Isaiah began to operate outside of Revilla.
He gathered intelligence through espionage and helped eliminate traitorous knights.
Almost ten years passed like that.
By the time it felt like there were barely any superiors above him, he was given a crucial mission.
He was to infiltrate the Empire of Whipolios, known as the Land of Mages.
The day he prepared to enter Whipolios, thinking again that he had earned great trust—
“Ugh!”
Those crossing the border began to vomit and collapse.
Isaiah was no exception.
It was like an experience he had once before—
His vision distorted, his hearing faded, and his senses went dull.
‘I will find that bastard and kill him.’
Far away, hatred for someone surged.
Was that a feeling he had once felt?
As he stood frozen, a frantic voice shouted.
“Our infiltration’s been exposed. Fall back!”
“Retreat! Grab those who can’t move!”
Isaiah recovered faster than most and looked around.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who experienced the strange phenomenon—everyone clutched their heads in agony.
Isaiah grabbed two nearby comrades and fled the scene.
But the strange effects didn’t end there. Everyone who had attempted to infiltrate Whipolios began complaining of strange dreams.
“Sir Heathclear.”
“What?”
“…Do you remember why you became a knight?”
At that question, Isaiah let out a sigh. Why did any Revillan become a knight? For the homeland, of course…
“For the homeland…?”
Since when?
Since when had he become someone who loved his country so dearly?
Just as the doubt began to take root, the knight beside him trembled and spoke again.
“I… I don’t remember.”
“……”
“Do you… remember anything from before you became a cadet?”
The moment he heard that question, Isaiah felt something wrong.
He couldn’t remember anything either.
