It wasn't that no one had spoken to him while he wandered through Adelvine.
But their words had never reached Gert.
"Oh great knight, how did you fall so far?"
"Gert, come to your senses! You're not that kind of knight!"
"They say you were a great knight before becoming a Death Knight…"
"Spare me."
"I don't want to die."
"I'll go back, so stop!"
"You cursed bastard!"
It was all meaningless.
Because he had sworn to carry it all on his shoulders.
But this time was different.
"You piece of trash who destroyed your own country. A murderer who kills innocent lives. That's what you are. If you've got a conscience, try and make an excuse, you bag of bones."
Of course, Adelvine had fallen because of him.
But he had his reasons.
What would that black-haired human possibly understand?
"I'm not done talking. You were a decent knight when you were alive, right? Then how the hell did you end up like this? Did black magic blind you to everything? Did you want to live that badly? Don't you feel ashamed?"
It wasn't because he was bewitched by black magic.
It wasn't because he wanted to live longer that he became a Death Knight.
It was simply because there was something he had to do, even if it meant carrying all this pain.
And yet, all his sacrifice was being insulted by that black-haired human.
"Hey, you bony bastard. Who do you think you are, killing people? Is Adelvine yours or something? Huh?"
"Your Highness, please stop."
"I haven't even started yet. Look at that. He's not saying anything. Because everything I said is true. You conscience-bursting piece of skeletal trash."
It wasn't that he couldn't make an excuse.
It wasn't because he was speechless at the truth.
It was just that even making an excuse was a luxury for him.
True honor isn't something that needs to be acknowledged by others. It's quietly fulfilling the destiny you've been given without seeking anyone's understanding.
Even in death, he was a knight.
And then, the black-haired human continued speaking.
"Hey, Gert. When your parents had you, they probably made seaweed soup…"
Gert's heart trembled.
He suddenly remembered the faces of his parents—faces he had long forgotten—who had looked upon him being knighted and, saying they had no regrets, urged him to become a great knight.
Even though he had become a Death Knight, the filial piety buried deep in his heart remained unchanged.
In the end, Gert couldn't hold back and opened his mouth.
[Too, harsh, words.]
The black-haired human's expression changed.
Usually, people made that face when they thought they'd found someone's weak spot.
"Too harsh? I just said thinking about your parents having seaweed soup after giving birth to you made my chest swell with emotion. What, did I strike a nerve? Are you some kind of unfilial son?"
[Wait.]
"Shut up, shut up. You ruined your country, were unfilial to your parents, and now you're a lonely Death Knight skeleton with no friends."
[Listen, to me.]
"If you've got something to say, spit it out. But you know what? All those innocent lives you took, and your poor parents who suffered because of your lack of filial piety—they probably had plenty to say too. And you right now…"
The black-haired human just wouldn't stop talking.
He kept throwing accusations, and with Gert's slow speech, it was hard to respond.
[Can't, keep, up.]
"I feel the same! I do! Looking at you makes my chest so heavy I can't speak! What the hell are you even…"
Eventually, one of the black-haired man's companions stepped in to stop him.
"Your Highness, let's at least hear what he has to say."
"I don't want to hear what that unfilial bastard has to say."
"Whether he's unfilial or not, we should hear him out. Let's give him a chance to speak."
"Jared, are you seriously saying you think that skeleton is worth listening to?"
"Everyone deserves the right to defend themselves. Let's just give him one chance."
"…Fine. Whatever."
The black-haired man crossed his arms, glared, and backed off.
Gert nodded lightly in gratitude to the one who had intervened. He normally didn't interact with humans, but just this once, he felt thankful to the knight who had stood up for him.
[Thank you, human.]
"Think nothing of it, Sir Gert."
The man gave a polite bow.
Gert suddenly found himself reminded of the past. Back then, everyone treated him with this kind of courtesy.
Perhaps that's why—
Every human has a moment when they are overcome with sentiment.
Gert explained, gently.
[You, will, die.]
The black-haired human flared up again.
"Look at this skeleton! We give him a chance to talk, and now he says we're going to die? Come here, you bastard!"
"Hold on. You have to let someone finish speaking, even if that someone's a Death Knight."
Gert closed his eyes.
He would no longer be swayed by that black-haired human's antics. He would simply speak from the image that surfaced within.
[I'll tell you, why, you must, die.]
***
Jared quickly moved to stand opposite of Yuri, siding with Gert.
It was the classic good cop, bad cop strategy.
The more Yuri's verbal abuse continued, the more Gert's rage built up, and naturally, he would begin to feel a sense of closeness with Jared, who defended him.
So by coaxing and pacifying him, they could get him to start talking.
And Gert slowly opened his mouth.
[Black magic.]
As soon as the words came out, everyone's attention turned to Gert.
He stood with his sword raised upright.
[Everything, began, there.]
The only remaining part of his plate armor, the breastplate, crumbled away.
At the center of his ribcage, the throbbing core of the Death Knight was revealed. Ominously blood-red, it pulsed like a heart.
[Because of that, I, became, a Death Knight.]
Yuri glanced briefly toward Pierre.
He looked clearly unsettled.
While watching him from the corner of his eye, Yuri focused on Gert's story.
Because Gert couldn't speak fluently, it was necessary to rely on a bit of guesswork and inference to understand the full picture.
Adelvine had been a peaceful country.
Then one day, the royal court's mage fell into black magic.
At first, no one noticed.
Unlike conventional magic, black magic could manifest powers beyond imagination, and thanks to that, the mage could kill people night after night without getting caught.
The entire nation fell into ruin.
Years of famine followed, and wild beasts began attacking villages. At night, rumors spread of demons appearing and kidnapping people.
The people of Adelvine drowned themselves in alcohol and drugs.
Amidst the chaos, the knight Gert, who had sworn loyalty to the king, searched desperately for the source of the turmoil plaguing Adelvine.
And eventually, he found it.
A grotesque creature, with the features of many different beings grotesquely blended together, moving like a rolling mass.
He fought it with his order of knights, but could not win.
The creature caught knights with its tendrils and devoured them. With every bite, came screams and the sound of bones snapping. And with every drop of blood it drank, the monster grew stronger.
Defeated, Gert went to the king and reported what he had seen.
An army was assembled.
Gert set out to kill the monster, betting the kingdom's fate on it.
But it was already too late.
[There, I…]
Gert trailed off. His crimson glowing eyes flickered. He struggled to continue speaking and eventually lowered his head.
Suddenly, Pierre asked,
"That Grand Library—was it there?"
Everyone looked at him. Pierre stared at Gert with gleaming eyes.
"Was the monster's lair there? Did you see it there?"
[There, I…]
"That place, right?"
[At the Grand Library.]
Gert clutched his head.
Without his plate armor, the Death Knight looked frail and emaciated.
For a moment, Gert was silent, then he raised his head again.
His glowing eyes blazed red.
[All, life, must, be, exterminated.]
Suddenly, Gert swung his sword at Pierre. Sword aura flew through the air and struck, but thanks to the hastily erected shield, he was unharmed.
Yuri shouted.
"What the hell are you babbling about all of a sudden…?"
"As I thought, this is the place."
"What?"
Pierre's gaze changed.
"Handle it on your own, brat prince. The temporary alliance ends here."
With that, Pierre quickly ran toward the Grand Library. Perhaps he used magic, for he vanished in an instant.
Yuri tried to chase after him, but Ivan and his mercenaries blocked the way.
"If you don't want to die, step aside."
"Now is not the time to chase him. We should focus on the Death Knight."
"In this situation…?"
"Look over there."
Yuri turned. Gert and his group were engaged in battle. At some point, Jose had gotten back up and, though staggering, joined the fight—but things didn't look good.
Ivan gestured with his chin.
"Do you want us to stab you in the back?"
"Tch…"
Yuri ground his teeth.
It was clear they were up to something, but he had no obvious move to counter it.
"If you don't chase Pierre, we'll help you fight Gert."
As Ivan spoke, the sword aura Gert unleashed flew toward where they stood.
Yuri blocked it with Guilty, then glared at Ivan and shouted.
"What the hell are you trying to pull?"
"Who knows."
A faint madness flickered in his eyes.
"We merely follow him."
***
Pierre opened the doors of the Grand Library and stepped inside. Thick, viscous demonic energy swirled around and clung to his body.
A voice called to him from deep underground.
Pierre smiled.
"As I thought… it's here."
He ran, searching for the stairs that led down.
The sinister energy grew stronger with each step. It felt as though it resonated with his own black magic.
Pierre quickened his pace.
How many landings had he passed? At some point, he felt as if he were sinking into a swamp. Pitch-black darkness had risen to his knees. Each movement was met with a tug from the materialized shadows.
It was demonic energy of incredible density, having pooled for a very long time.
Pierre knew well what lay below.
The grandmaster who had led him down the path of truth had taught him in detail about what had happened in Adelvine.
"Poor Gert. Hehehe…"
Mocking the knight who had even offered up the peace of his soul, Pierre leaned his body into the darkness as if submerging himself in water.
The materialized shadows supported his body and pulled him deeper.
Riding the current, he eventually reached the deepest part of the Grand Library.
There it was.
"I found it."
A gigantic flower with its petals wide open.
It was as large as two elephants combined, and thick, dark red petals rose around its perimeter. At its center, a circular mouth lined with sharp teeth opened and closed slowly.
The current of darkness was converging into that mouth.
It was the so-called Devil's Flower.
But the Devil's Flower was withering, unable to fulfill its purpose.
A being that should have reached completion by devouring countless humans through a forbidden ritual had been left starving for ages, because the knight who should've been its prey had instead destroyed the lives it needed and absorbed them himself.
That's why he had to come to Adelvine.
"It's time to awaken again."
Pierre pulled something from his robe.
An object wrapped in several layers of scrolls inscribed with magic circles.
He peeled them away one by one, revealing a pitch-black gem shaped like a heart.
Its surface was dark, but a red light flickered from within.
Inside was a condensed mass of life force, enough to awaken the Devil's Flower from its dormant state. To create it, countless sacrifices had been offered and refined through black magic.
Pierre caressed the gem, smiling.
"Come on, rise. Be reborn. And serve Him once more."
Flowing with the shadows like a dancer, he floated above the Devil's Flower.
Perhaps the flower sensed prey—it opened its mouth wider and moved more eagerly.
Pierre let go of the black gem.
The crimson light slowly descended, then was sucked into the center of the wide-open maw. As it entered, the twitching mouth suddenly snapped shut.
Thump.
A pulse spread outward.
The flower's petals expanded in volume and began to stretch outward in every direction.
It was a sudden transformation.
"Success."
His task was now complete.
Pierre turned to leave the Grand Library.
But a tendril extending from beneath the petals wrapped around his ankle.
Pierre's eyes widened.
But the shock didn't last long. His gaze turned hazy, and as if he had been possessed, he began to float along the tendril, gliding downward. The way he moved was like a lifeless puppet.
The Devil's Flower opened its mouth once more.
Unlike earlier, when it had been dry, its interior now glistened with dark red, mucous-like fluid. Several toothed tendrils writhed as if alive.
Without hesitation, Pierre threw himself inside.
The mouth closed.
With a sound like flesh being crushed and bones snapping, his dying scream rang out.
The Devil's Flower, now fully revived, began to shine with renewed vitality.
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