As the thought crossed through her mind, Anis kicked the stirrups without hesitation.
“Neigh!”
The horse spurred in the side, quickly surged forward, gaining momentum downhill. Lifting her hips off the saddle, she increased her speed even more.
“Miss!”
The knight who belatedly spotted her shouted.
Gripping the front of the saddle, Anis lifted her hips and slid to the side of the horse. Relying solely on her arm strength and core muscles to support her weight, she stretched out both legs and kicked the enemy.
The added momentum from the horse’s speed made her kick powerful enough to send the opponent collapsing to the ground. Following suit, the knight swiftly ended the life of the disoriented enemy.
“See! I was helpful!”
Anis shouted in response to the knight’s protest as she slowed down in a wide arc.
Three enemies remained.
She hadn’t noticed from afar, but they were large. Agile and menacing in their attacks, they seemed far from ordinary assassins.
The two escort knights couldn’t focus on attacking as they were preoccupied with the boy left behind. Although they might have a chance if they fought sincerely, they had two people to protect, and the enemies outnumbered them.
Anis, skilfully dismounted the horse, checked the throwing axe at her waist, drew her sword, and jumped into the fray, positioning herself between the escorts and the boy.
The boy was about two meters behind Anis.
“You’ll be safe now.”
Anis tried to soothe him with a low, quick voice, but he showed no reaction.
Up close, the boy looked even smaller and thinner. He stood awkwardly holding his sword, seemingly in a state of shock.
Judging by the height and physique standards of the Grand Duchy of Varandian, he looked to be around fourteen or fifteen years old. His face was pale, and his unkempt black hair fell to his eyes.
Why did the book “How a Knight Lives as a Macho,” suddenly come to mind? Was it because the protagonist knight was small and thin, and there was a scene where he picked up an orphaned black kitten?
While the escort knights fended off the fierce attacks raining down on them, one enemy circled to strike at Anis’s side, probably thinking she would be easy to deal with.
Aiming for an opening, the enemy quickly threw a dagger at her, but she deflected it with her sword. The dagger’s owner, who had thrown it and rushed in for a strike, widened their eyes in surprise.
Anis moved closer to the black-haired boy, gripping her sword tightly. Her blue eyes glared fiercely at the opponent.
“Hmph.”
The enemy scoffed, finding even that amusing. Veins bulged at Anis’s temples.
“Underestimating me, huh?”
The enemy lowered his body like a predator, leisurely waiting for the right moment to strike. The escort knights were too busy dealing with their opponents to retreat or assist.
Anis kept her gaze fixed on the enemy, remaining vigilant. She didn’t forget to keep an eye on her allies, hoping they might give her some kind of signal.
“No.”
At that moment, the boy muttered in a small voice.
Anis narrowed her eyes slightly, puzzled by his response. What does he mean, ‘no’?
“…No more should die here.”
The boy Anis glanced at was staring blankly at the corpse lying in a pool of blood. Anis sensed that the boy’s condition was far from normal.
At some point, the tip of his sword had dropped to the ground. It was a very bad habit during combat.
‘I need to wrap this up quickly—’
Just then, the enemy Anis had been watching kicked off the ground and began the hunt. With one hand at her waist, Anis lowered her body and drew her throwing axe, throwing it at the enemy.
The enemy dodged the axe, his body tilting to one side. In that brief moment, he glanced at the axe passing over his right shoulder and smirked.
Seizing the opportunity, Anis straightened up and threw a handful of sand into the enemy’s face. It was one of the tricks she had used to defeat Resar.
Although she had been learning diligently from Valize, a head-on confrontation of strength was still too much for the young Anis.
“Ugh…!”
As the enemy stumbled, blinded by the sand, Anis grabbed the boy’s hand and ran toward her horse by the dirt path. Fortunately, the boy did not shake off her hand and moved his legs, albeit clumsily.
“How dare you!”
The enemy, advancing to attack Anis from behind, was cut down by the escort knight who had just finished off his opponent. Anis had created an opening after receiving a signal from the knight.
“Run with the boy! I’ll follow soon!”
Shouting this, the knight was stabbed in the abdomen by the assassin, sacrificing his life for one final strike.
Anis mounted the saddle first, breathing heavily. She considered intervening again since one enemy remained, but it didn’t seem like a good idea.
“Get on.”
Anis urgently extended her hand.
Then she noticed the boy’s face. His delicate, pretty face was full of anxiety and confusion. His distrustful eyes were violet, like violets.
‘His name is…Lin, a boy with black hair and violet eyes.’
‘…It would be best to escort him to… I’ll follow once my business is settled.’
The conversation she had overheard quickly flashed through her mind.
Anis shivered at the incredible coincidence of meeting the boy Valize was supposed to protect first.
“Miss!”
The escort knight, struggling with the last enemy, urged her. The horse stomped its feet, eager to leave the bloody scene.
“We have to go.”
“…”
“I’m not your enemy.”
The boy’s distrustful violet eyes trembled as he looked up at Anis.
His eyes, devoid of the vitality typical of his age, were filled with despair and wounds, making Anis’s heart ache.
What kind of life had he led to have such an expression? The fact that assassins were after him suggested that his life had been far from easy. Wishing for someone’s death was never a good sign.
‘No matter the reason, cruel violence against a young boy is wrong.’
Anis’s blue eyes radiated a determination.
‘I will definitely save him.’
Leaning forward, she reached out her hand toward the boy, who still seemed unable to trust her and was reluctant to cooperate.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
Like snatching prey, she grabbed the boy by the collar and lifted him up.
“Ugh―?!”
The boy, who had never been grabbed by the collar was taken aback.
Feeling the satisfyingly heavy weight rising as if pulling a radish from the ground, Anis put strength into her shoulders and arms.
“Hiya!”
The horse, excited by the smell of blood and eager to run, sped away, making it easy to escape from the remaining enemies.
The boy was draped over Anis’s shoulder like damp laundry. For Anis, this weight was hardly anything.
In contrast, the boy groaned in pain as his stomach was pressed.
Instead of asking who Anis was, he protested.
“Crazy, why grab me by the collar…!”
“That was the only place to grab. Why didn’t you give me your hand?”
“How could I, ugh, trust you…?”
“I’m worried you might bite your tongue, so would you prefer to stay unconscious?”
Since it wasn’t a question that required an answer in the first place, Anis casually struck the back of the defenseless boy’s neck with a thud.
The boy went limp.
“Finally, it’s quiet.”
“…”
Anis focused on riding with the boy as her burden. The horse galloped towards the Golden Mist Village.
With each powerful strike of the horse’s hooves on the ground, the unconscious boy’s body flopped weakly on her shoulder. Anis kept hoisting up the boy who kept trying to slip off, and urged the horse to run faster.
In the knightly literature Anis had read, the protagonist knights always started their adventures by picking up something.
Thinking about it that way, this was a good start.
…Probably.
* * *
Lancelin de Contagne.
He was born as the first son of Arthur I and Isabel in the small Kingdom of Contagne, geographically adjacent to the Kingdom of Saint-Jean. He was destined to be the king.
Although Lancelin was born with such an excellent lineage and should have been showered with love and blessings, unfortunately, that was not the case.
Isabel was frail. While Arthur I genuinely loved Isabel, he was not particularly a good father, nor a good king.
As the king’s incompetence became apparent, royal authority gradually weakened.
After Isabel’s death, Melisande from the powerful Benesance family became the queen consort. Moreover, when Melisande’s brother, Lorgon de Benesance, became the palace steward, disaster struck Lancellin.
As Arthur I’s mind clouded, Lancelin was forced to leave the court at a young age under the absurd pretext that his father’s illness might be contagious.
The steward suggested he manage his frail body in a quiet place with good air and water.
Isabel’s family was on the brink of extinction, and her relatives were too humble to support the young prince.
By the steward’s order, Lancelin grew up moving from one insignificant place to another, far from the capital.
The steward, mindful of appearances, did not send assassins directly, but his intentions were clear.
Despite his noble bloodline, a powerless child faced unimaginable neglect, despised by the kingdom’s most powerful figure.
The rural lords forced to care for the unwanted prince feared Lorgon and did not treat him properly.
Out of fear, they deliberately ignored and pretended not to notice Lancelin’s existence.
There was no physical violence, but Lancelin slept in quarters worse than those of the servants and sometimes filled his stomach with things that were barely considered food.
Meanwhile, Lorgon’s power continued to grow.
It was only later that Lancelin learned that with the birth of his half-brother, the number of people who treated him as a prince, even on the surface, gradually decreased.
Lancelin, who had been ignored as if he didn’t exist, slowly accumulated anger in his heart. The young prince, who was thin, small, and spoke little, started to behave badly, acting out as he grew older.
Although he was a prince without power, it was unthinkable to lay hands directly on his noble body. The lord and the people of the castle in charge of him began to avoid the prince completely.
