Chapter 43
Sapheiros, who had been standing blankly for a long time, roughly picked up Spinel’s helmet.
“…Hiiing.”
When he turned toward the sound, a fallen horse entered his view.
“I’m sorry, Clover.”
Clover coughed up bloody foam and struggled for breath. He seemed completely unable to lift his neck.
Clover was a black stallion Hidenite had gifted along with a sword two years ago, when he became a marquis.
His body, eyes, and mane were entirely black, but uniquely, he had a small white spot on his belly.
Hidenite had said, “A white spot on a black horse isn’t ideal,” and suggested choosing another horse, but Sapheiros had shaken his head.
The white spot looked just like a four-leaf clover.
“I have a feeling this one will bring me good luck,”
Sapheiros had told Hidenite.
Not knowing this would be that kind of luck.
“I didn’t think it would end like this. I’m sorry.”
Looking into Clover’s deep, wide eyes, he gave his final farewell.
Sapheiros bit hard into the inside of his mouth to steady himself.
The metallic taste of blood rose up.
Forcing out a voice that wouldn’t come, he declared:
“I’m here. I am Mano Sapheiros, Commander of the Knights of the Marquisate of Mano.”
Charging into the fierce battlefield, Sapheiros swung his blue aura fiercely toward the necks of the horses ridden by the cavalry of the Kingdom of Robiana—as if avenging Clover.
“The commander has arrived! The Crown Prince of Robiana has fled!”
Kairen’s booming voice echoed across the Ushi Plains.
At the same time, from afar, peasant infantry and elderly archers approached quickly, torches in hand.
At their head was Adamas.
“Ross!!!”
In the dim navy glow of approaching dawn, Adamas’s green eyes shone.
Blue lightning—what looked like a magic missile—flickered in her hand.
Beside her, archers stood in formation, fire arrows drawn and ready.
What is Adamas thinking?
Right now the knights and Spinel’s cavalry are mixed together. If they fire those flaming arrows as they are, both sides will suffer damage.
Would she accept allied casualties just to kill the Robiana forces?
No, that couldn’t be.
Adamas would never devise such a strategy.
The biggest reason he trusted her was because she always struggled desperately to save even one more person from Mano.
Just like him.
After assessing her movements, Sapheiros quickly looked around.
Closer than expected.
Enemies and allies intermingled.
Then there was only one possible target.
“All knights, abandon your horses and lie flat on the ground!”
Sapheiros shouted at the top of his lungs.
The moment he finished speaking, every mounted knight dismounted and pressed their faces into the damp Ushi Plains.
At the same time, a small bolt of lightning struck. Adamas had fired her magic missile into the air.
The ground trembled slightly.
It was his power.
The knights’ horses, startled, staggered and began to flee.
At that same instant, tightly drawn bowstrings released, painting beautiful arcs across the sky.
They were not aimed to strike anyone.
The arrows fell behind Sapheiros’s back.
Spinel’s cavalry struggled desperately to maintain balance, but it was not easy.
And Sapheiros did not miss that opening.
Seizing the confusion, he ran without hesitation along the path illuminated by the archers.
“Haaah!”
The wave of blue aura he unleashed roared across the Ushi Plains.
Horses’ necks were severed, and numerous cavalrymen of Spinel were thrown from their mounts.
As Sapheiros, dragging his exhausted body, prepared to charge into battle once more, a small shadow darted out swiftly.
In a low stance, the shadow quickly cut the legs of fallen cavalrymen.
Crouched like a four-legged animal.
Sapheiros knew that stance.
The blazing September Bell Tower. The finals of the martial arts tournament.
The young swordsman who had fiercely declared her presence.
Sapheiros murmured softly:
“Perhaps my judgment back then was a little hasty.”
At the tournament, Sapheiros had overwhelmingly predicted Pantheon’s victory.
He believed the young lady of Onyx could never win unless Pantheon forfeited.
Even now, he still thought Pantheon was far stronger.
But one thing was certain.
Even if the final had proceeded as it was, it would not have been an easy fight.
“It’s Onyx’s sword!”
Someone shouted.
A blade that cut enemies low and fast. The sword that had protected Mano the longest.
Yes. Unstructured, yet unmistakably Onyx’s sword.
Against the pitch-dark night, a new light rose to illuminate Mano.
The sacred one, Onyx Privetina.
Encouraged by Privetina’s performance, the peasant soldiers shouted fiercely and charged at Spinel’s cavalry.
The cavalry who had not fallen jumped wildly to avoid attacks.
But such large movements were naturally conspicuous. Sapheiros swiftly cut them down.
As the dying screams faded, a reddish glow slowly spread across the Ushi Plains.
The soldiers of Mano Fran collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
A brief silence fell.
Sapheiros slapped his aching head with his palm. He too wanted to collapse, but forced himself upright and looked for Kairen.
“Kairen! Kairen!!”
“Yes, Commander.”
Kairen quickly rose and approached him.
“Assess the casualties. We must also retrieve the horses Adamas scattered. We need to send a messenger.”
“Yes, Commander.”
After answering respectfully, Kairen swiftly assembled the knights.
Some began assessing casualties, while others took out horse whistles or called their horses’ names loudly, clapping their hands.
Sapheiros touched his waist and slowly removed his scale armor.
Beneath it was a purple banner he had hidden to cross the river secretly past the Robiana forces.
Bang—bang—.
When he unfurled the purple banner high and waved it broadly, every soldier of Mano Fran placed a hand over their chest and observed a silent tribute.
Sapheiros too lowered his head quietly for a long while.
“…Ross! Hey, Mano Sapheiros!”
“Huh? Oh, Adamas. Why are you shouting like that?”
“I’ve been calling you. Why are you so out of it?”
“Ah, sorry.”
“Good grief. Anyway, you worked hard. Wind.”
With a deep sigh, Adamas waved her hand in the air several times, and a cool breeze stirred Sapheiros’s bangs.
Watching her create a refreshing wind with a grumbling expression, Sapheiros smiled faintly.
“Your face is drenched in sweat. It really stings if it gets in your eyes.”
“You’re always the same.”
“Hm? What did you say?”
“I said… that’s a relief.”
Sapheiros pulled Adamas tightly into his arms.
“Hey—hey! What are you doing? Let go. People are watching. Get off!”
Bathed in the rising sunlight, he kissed her shining hair.
“Hey, I said let go! This is embarrassing!”
There was much to do.
Even if they were enemies, the bodies had to be recovered. They had to choose someone who could ride swiftly to deliver news of victory to the marquis.
But for now…
Under this blazing sun, he wanted to enjoy being alive.
“Adamas, you saved us again.”
If there were a goddess of victory, she would look like this.
With cheers and applause ringing in his ears, Sapheiros thought:
No matter what happens, I will protect you with these hands.
No matter what happens, I will never let you slip from them.
On the road back to the marquisate.
Adamas pouted and glared at Sapheiros.
“Why did you say we’d walk?”
“Hm?”
“Kairen offered to give you a horse. Why did you refuse?”
“…Sorry, Mas. Do your legs hurt?”
“That’s not the point.”
They were walking at the very back of the Mano Fran forces—composed of a hundred knights, about thirty archers, and the majority peasant infantry.
Adamas tilted her head. For a commander who had achieved a great victory, Sapheiros looked far too gloomy.
While someone started a song and shoulders swayed naturally to the rhythm, Sapheiros alone remained somber.
“Is it because of Clover?”
Clover had been a black steed who closely resembled Sapheiros’s black hair. Even Adamas had grown fond of him.
“I kind of regret it too. I should’ve treated him better.”
“You weren’t even close to Clover.”
“What do you mean I wasn’t! Every time I stopped by the marquis’s stables, I secretly gave him handfuls of hay.”
“No wonder he seemed to gain a little weight. So you were the culprit.”
Sapheiros shot her a quiet look.
“It’s not just about Clover…”
He looked down at the black helmet tucked at his side.
“Spinel’s helmet? Let me see.”
When Adamas reached out her hand, Sapheiros reluctantly handed it over.
“It’s really pitch black. Except for the red spinel embedded in the forehead…”
She turned the fairly heavy helmet around in her hands.
“Oh right, you saw Spinel’s face. What was he like?”
“…What?”
“I heard he’s incredibly handsome?”
“…I didn’t see him well. It was dark. Give me the helmet back.”
Avoiding her gaze, Sapheiros looked around.
“Well, it was very dark. So what, he’s probably moderately ugly?”
“If rumors say he’s handsome, why are you saying he’s ugly?”
“Oh please. That’s just flattery. I’ve never seen a truly handsome man among royalty rumored to be handsome.”
“You don’t even watch parades.”
“Maybe not, but I read history books! But why are you suddenly prickly? It’s not like you’re Spinel!”
“I’m not…”
Sapheiros hesitated, then fell silent. Adamas sighed deeply.
Handing the helmet back, she searched for something to spark his interest, then suddenly widened her eyes.
“Oh right! Ross! What about Pantheon and Stephan? Tina told me the marquis opposed their participation.”
“Hm? Ah, that…”
“What? What happened? With their skill, they would’ve been a huge help in the war. Was it because their identities were unclear?”
“It was a problem because they were too clear. They’re both royalty. As members of the imperial family, they felt responsible for Francis’s territory being in danger and insisted on participating in battle.”
“What?! What are you talking about! Why would royalty come all the way to this backwater?!”
