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Chapter 43
Chapter 43. An Uncomfortable Reunion (2)
“You’ve got a likable face! Very handsome!”
A cheerful voice shattered the silence.
It was Gawain’s voice.
He was smiling brightly as he looked at Yohan.
W̃ е b n о_v́ ë l̂ Еṅ u m̂ ǎ
Yohan felt a bit taken aback.
Just yesterday, Gawain had been emotionally wounded by a demon, and in the aftermath, he had gone on a rampage.
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Just like the day his mother died, he had lost control.
It was a situation that could only lead to self-loathing.
But Gawain showed no sign of such emotions. If anything, he appeared even more cheerful.
‘…He’s still Gawain, no matter how young he is.’
E̊ń u m̀ á
In the original story as well, he never revealed his true feelings. By acting like a thoughtless wastrel, he always lowered the guard of his political enemies.
A wandering vagabond with a craving for debauchery, the shame of the Artelga royal family, a cursed degenerate… and so on. Every label that followed him was nothing more than a mask Gawain himself had crafted.
He had lowered himself completely, biding his time. Until he uncovered the truth behind that day, Gawain would not reveal his true self.
Now it was no different.
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Many had suffered from his rampage, but he showed no guilt.
The world would see him as a reckless madman, and no politician would consider him a threat.
Еǹ_u̇ m̊a . і̇ d
Only Yohan knew what lay beneath Gawain’s mask.
Still kneeling on one knee, Yohan said,
“Just as the rumors say, Your Highness is quite the handsome man.”
“Oh? So even the southern provinces talk about me?”
“Well, Your Highness is quite famous.”
“A wastrel, a scoundrel, the shame of the royal family… what else was there… Anyway, all the infamous titles, I imagine. Haha.”
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Gawain laughed brightly as he mocked himself.
“You’re also the youngest Holy Knight, one blessed by the Moon, and favored by the Great Saint—titles too dignified to be called infamous.”
At Yohan’s prompt response, Gawain stopped laughing.
He was slightly surprised. Yohan had reacted in an unexpected way.
Usually, when Gawain mocked himself in front of others, they would be at a loss, uncomfortable, or try to slip away.
But Yohan was different. As if waiting for the moment, he parried Gawain’s words with ease.
Eǹ um̈ а́.ĭ d̃
A level of tact and poise fit for a seasoned noble elder—in one so young.
Gawain spoke.
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“This is a little embarrassing. My body is pitiful compared to the reputation it carries.”
Though he held immense power, Gawain couldn’t control even a fraction of it.
A reputation that far outpaced his strength. In a way, both Yohan and Gawain were in the same boat.
‘Demon’ Yohan too had strength that paled in comparison to his reputation as an Apostle.
Ŵе b̀ n̈о́ v еl̂ Ê n ùm̌а̀
Yohan said,
“If your fame comes solely from others’ expectations, there’s no need to meet them. Please don’t belittle yourself, Your Highness.”
Gawain didn’t reply—he simply stared at Yohan.
Shaferia, who had been quietly listening to their conversation, nodded to herself without a word.
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Holy Knight Kaynac cleared his throat and said,
“…Your Highness, pardon the interruption, but I believe we must move out.”
Еn̈ ü m а
Gawain gestured for Kaynac to rise, as if telling him not to mind.
“Oh dear, look at me. I didn’t mean to hold you up. My apologies. Sir Kaynac, please go on ahead. Isn’t now the perfect time to catch the White Horn?”
Then he turned back to Yohan.
“Sir Yohan, I’d like to talk a bit more with you. If you’re not too busy, would you mind keeping me company a little longer? Of course, you can refuse.”
Yohan had no reason to refuse. Gawain was a key figure in the original story, and forming a connection with him would be helpful in some way.
Yohan said,
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“I don’t mind, but aren’t you busy, Your Highness?”
“Espada always returns to my hand eventually. Right now, I’d rather focus on a new encounter.”
“It’s an honor to hear you say so.”
Gawain smiled softly at Yohan and turned to Kaynac.
“Would it be alright if I borrowed Sir Yohan for a while?”
“We weren’t traveling together to begin with, so it’s Your Highness’s prerogative. We shall take our leave.”
Е̇ n.ú m̌.a . i̊d
At Kaynac’s command, the soldiers turned in unison.
Shaferia and Yohan exchanged a glance.
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Even the Imp trapped in the cage continued to stare at Yohan.
A fierce determination to survive burned in its eyes.
Yohan chuckled faintly.
If the thing actually returned alive, he intended to keep his promise.
Ӗ n̈ ů m̌ а . id
Though the odds were slim to none.
“Shall we move elsewhere?”
The villagers were still lying flat on the ground. Gawain didn’t want to make them any more uncomfortable.
“I could escort you to the hut.”
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It was too humble a place to invite royalty, but there was no better option.
“No, let’s just take a walk.”
Е̂ n ü m a.ĭd̂_
“As you wish.”
The two of them left the village.
Unlike usual, the midnight mountain wasn’t quiet at all. There was no darkness to obscure their sight.
Because of the Church’s search, it was noisy, and sacred lights rose all around, illuminating the surroundings.
Instead of night beasts, countless human presences trailed behind Gawain and Yohan.
They were the guards and watchers for the Third Prince.
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Gawain muttered quietly.
“They’re already tailing us. Yuri’s got a real knack for finding me, doesn’t she?”
Gawain’s escort knight, Yuri. A familiar name to Yohan as well.
She was trailing behind at a calculated distance.
“Are we being followed, Your Highness?”
“Rather than followed… more like protected? Monitored? I guess you could call it guardianship. Don’t worry too much. It’s nothing serious.”
Ẅ е b n оv̄ѐ l̇ Е n̈ú m̄а̂
But it was hard not to worry. The fact that someone was tailing him—and that he couldn’t even sense it—left Yohan with a deep unease.
‘I should probably ask Gaf to teach me how to detect tails sometime.’
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It would be a major survival skill going forward.
“More importantly, Sir Yohan.”
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Just as you knew me, I’ve actually heard about you as well.”
Е̌n̊ů m̂a
“What have you heard, if I may ask?”
Gawain suddenly stopped.
“Rumors about the Miyatro family’s illegitimate son.”
“May I ask what those rumors say?”
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“It’s simple. ‘An illegitimate son suddenly appeared and pushed out his uncle to become the baron’s heir. In the process, the uncle took his own life, but there are suspicions surrounding the death.’ That about sums it up.”
Yohan nodded calmly.
Еń u m̌ ȧ. і̇ď
“Setting aside the truth of those rumors, Your Highness seems quite different from what they say.”
“In what way?”
“They say Your Highness is uninterested in politics or worldly affairs, but you’re well-versed in the family matters of a remote barony. Shows how unreliable rumors can be.”
It hadn’t even been a few weeks since Yohan’s uncle Krill took his own life. The rumors were just starting to spread. It was too soon for them to have reached the whole kingdom.
There was no way they would have made it to the ears of the Third Prince—who supposedly cared nothing for politics.
Or so the public thought.
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In reality, it was the opposite.
Gawain never missed a whisper in the wind. To uncover the truth behind that day, he gathered every piece of information he could.
Yohan, having read the original story, knew this well.
Gawain said,
“I have a certain aide who never shuts up, so I hear all kinds of things whether I want to or not.”
A lie. He was talking about the knight Yuri—but she was, in truth, gathering intelligence under Gawain’s orders.
Ė ň ům̈а̊ . ĭ d̀
“Did Your Highness call me here to verify whether what that aide said is true?”
Gawain shook his head.
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“No. As you advised me earlier, I wanted to offer you a heartfelt piece of advice as well.”
“Forgive me, but what advice did I give Your Highness?”
They had only exchanged a few words—nothing grand enough to be called advice.
At least, not as far as Yohan remembered.
Еňu m̊ а̃ .i d̄
“You said there’s no need to meet the one-sided expectations of others. That actually struck a chord with me.”
Gawain gave a gentle smile. That smile was filled with goodwill toward Yohan.
‘Is it because of the Great Saint’s Eyes?’
If so, it was a welcome result.
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The price he paid to gain the eyes didn’t feel wasted.
Yohan said,
Е̊n̈u m̈а . i̇ d̆
“If it helped you even a little, I’m glad.”
“I’ve received something, so I ought to return the favor. May I offer you a word of advice?”
“I’ll take it to heart.”
“Do you know who was backing your uncle, Sir Krill?”
It was the Count of Staviana.
Chancellor of the kingdom and leader of the noble faction—the most influential man in the kingdom had supported Krill.
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“Count of Staviana. I heard it from my uncle himself.”
“Then you must know about the count.”
“I’ve heard he’s a cold-blooded power player.”
“Cold doesn’t even begin to describe him. The count is like a demon in human form. He seems friendly but is utterly heartless. Appears merciful, but is ruthlessly cruel. Some say he’s sly as a fox, others say bold as a tiger. Either way, he’s someone you must never make your enemy.”
Gawain’s tone didn’t carry strong hatred toward the count. He simply stated his opinion matter-of-factly.
‘So he still doesn’t know anything.’
Eń ûm̀ а̃. і̂ d
If Gawain knew the truth behind that day, he couldn’t speak so calmly about the count.
The root cause of his mother’s death lay with the count.
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Just like in the original, Gawain would eventually learn the truth. And when he did, he and the count would become mortal enemies.
Yohan intended to bring that moment forward.
Through the Incubus he had already planted.
Yohan said,
E̊ ǹ ü m̈ а . і̂ d.
“…It seems I’ve unintentionally offended the count.”
The count had wanted Krill to inherit the barony. Whatever the reason, the count’s will had been thwarted—and he was not a man who would let that go.
“Exactly. In fact, he’s already begun to move. Apparently, he’s claimed Krill’s corpse.”
Just as Yohan had expected.
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“That’s a major piece of information. I’ll need to prepare.”
At the same time, Gawain’s eyes shifted. A faint flicker of competitive spirit passed through them.
W ӗ ḃ no v ë l Ӗ.ǹ ŭ m̄а̄
“Prepare, huh… Are you perhaps thinking of opposing the count?”
Gawain’s demeanor quickly returned to calm, but Yohan couldn’t forget the sense of unease he’d felt for that brief instant.
‘…What was that?’
Just now, Gawain had shown a flash of hostility. It was so quick that Yohan wondered if it had been his imagination.
“‘Oppose’ might be an exaggeration. I simply wish to uphold the justice I believe in and the laws of the Great Saint.”
“…I see. I hope you respond wisely. I hope to see you again.”
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“I will not forget Your Highness’s kindness.”
“And I’ll remember today’s meeting. I quite enjoyed it.”
Gawain began walking again.
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes. I have to keep searching for Espada.”
Yohan found it strange. He couldn’t quite grasp Gawain’s intentions in initiating this conversation. Was he simply trying to build rapport? If so, the topic had been rather sensitive—after all, they’d discussed the Count of Staviana.
Ẽn ūm̈ ȧ.і̄_d
Suppressing his doubt, Yohan bowed his head.
“You will surely find it. Please take care.”
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Even as he left, Gawain looked back at Yohan several times.
And the further he walked, the louder the Holy Spear Espada’s cry became.
As if it were weeping—begging him not to leave, to come back.
After a moment of hesitation, Gawain came to a halt.
Ӗnů m̆ ӑ
From a distance, he called out.
“Sir Yohan! Pardon me a moment!”
He stretched out his hand toward Yohan.
“Saint Marziel. Vanguard who carves justice into evil—return once more to the front line!”
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A blinding holy light exploded from his palm.
The light seemed to exert its own gravity, pulling the surrounding space inward.
Ẽ ṅûm̆ а̂ . і̊ d́
The air around Yohan began to ripple.
The atmosphere convulsed. The night warped.
Gawain’s face showed bewilderment.
“W-What is… this…?!”
A deafening explosion shattered the heavens and earth—like the world itself had broken.
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