A Blend of Romance and Fantasy - Chapter 73
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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73.
“This one looks useful. Take him away.”
At those words alone, Leonard Blake was dragged off somewhere.
“Send him to the front lines as a boy soldier first. If he survives, you’ll raise him.”
“Yes.”
The destination was the Western Frontier, the City Walls that Count Pixis guarded as a border lord.
There, ethnic minorities waged endless wars to reclaim their territory.
Each time, the Count opened the Castle Gate with a merciless expression and dispatched Thanatos.
They were cavalry clad entirely in dark iron armor from head to toe.
“Kill them brutally. Leave not a single one alive and inflict an overwhelming defeat.”
Leonard Blake was selected as a boy breakthrough soldier because of his small, swift frame and evident talent.
The danger was high and the survival rate was extremely low.
The Thanatos unit had their magical power suppressed by shackles to prevent them from biting their masters, leaving only physical ability as a tool.
Yet the superior’s eye was accurate.
Whether divine mercy or a demon’s gift, Leonard Blake possessed an innate talent for swordsmanship.
No—swordsmanship was too noble a word.
Leonard Blake possessed an extraordinary ability to slice human flesh quickly and cleanly.
With nothing but a worn blade, he cut down enemies before him without hesitation. Thanks to this, he could rapidly collapse enemy formations. It was talent that sent chills down the spine.
Now, if asked to explain how I managed such things back then, I would have no answer.
Perhaps it was simply the instinct to survive. Having witnessed my family’s neck and torso severed into three pieces before my eyes, it was only natural to cling to life by any means.
“Truly brilliant talent.”
“Indeed, even among trash, there are rough gems.”
“Had the bloodline not been tainted, he could have brought honor to the Empire.”
“But since he’s a risk factor, it might be best to leave things as they are…”
Unless one was a fool, there was no way not to understand what they were saying about me.
Yet I had no will to escape the situation. No thought of resistance remained. When humans face overwhelming terror, they inevitably submit before it.
My life was entirely shrouded in death.
There was nothing to protect, and life itself held no value. I didn’t even expect tomorrow, so I harbored no dreams of the future.
A different people beyond the Rugged Mountain Range. Blake’s eternal enemy.
Tearing and slicing their blood and flesh became the purpose of my existence, and I believed I would die without a grave in this pursuit.
Barely shedding my boyish nature, I received a fine horse and decent weapons. An optimal position for killing enemies came as a bonus.
The better I slaughtered, the better my treatment became. I felt my learned morality fade and ultimately vanish.
Yet when had I ever learned such morality and ethics?
A faint dream from long ago—it seemed I had learned them in a very clean place, dressed in fine clothes, alongside peers my age.
But the justice and concepts of good and evil from that place could not be applied to this world. At least not for me.
Another battle had ended.
Count Pixis was not one to treat the Punishment Unit well. After all, it was a unit where everyone looked the other way, a place where the children of Fallen Houses were kept alive.
Even when the Count returned, he sent the supply unit far from the City Walls, ordering them to finish eating outside before returning.
I was gathering and burning the corpses I had killed. It was no longer strange to feel hunger before them.
Then, I sensed a presence from behind. Turning around with ghostly instinct, a man in the same uniform stood there, offering me bread.
“Eat something.”
“….”
Leonard Blake snatched up the bread. The man ran his hand through his hair before dropping into a seat across from him.
“You’re the one they call the death-devouring fiend, aren’t you? Your eyes are so lifeless—devoid of all hope and dreams.”
“….”
“Well, you’re still our savior. Thanks to you, plenty of my comrades have survived. Our survival rate has skyrocketed.”
Leonard Blake’s face tightened almost imperceptibly as he chewed the bread.
He was not a man deserving of gratitude.
He had simply cut down someone, and as a result, someone else lived. Yet receiving thanks felt so deeply unsettling, so profoundly chilling.
“Comrades? Can we really call them that?”
Leonard Blake asked, gripping the bread. His voice was parched, fractured like cracked earth.
The man watching him seemed startled for a moment, then ate his bread with utter indifference.
“Well, we’re comrades bound for the same hell anyway, aren’t we?”
* * *
Time passed, and Leonard Blake was promoted to unit commander.
In that same moment, he began to question the nature of Thanatos itself.
I am a child of the Fallen House.
It is an inescapable fate to be buried beneath the tempests of power and slaughtered.
Yet there were those dragged here for showing disrespect to nobles, and others branded with false accusations of arrogance. All of them were commoners.
In this world, the wall of the caste system was formidable.
As a unit commander, collecting the countless corpses of comrades and subordinates, I began to view the nobility differently.
The Count’s daughter, adorning herself like a flower as she prepared to become the 3rd Empress, and Count Pixis, standing in the safest position as he commanded.
What did these men do for the nation? They tore at their own kind to seize the crown, yet they never extended their blades against their true rivals.
‘What am I fighting for? What are we fighting for?’
Then one day, Leonard Blake was summoned before Count Pixis.
Surprisingly, an Aristocratic Elder was present.
“I hear your swordsmanship is exceptional. Despite wearing magical restraints, you can still emit an aura—they say a single swing of your blade claims dozens of lives. Even surpassing the commander.”
“….”
“I wish to offer an opportunity to all of Thanatos here, and especially to you, Leonard Blake.”
A man who spoke as sweetly as a serpent’s tongue surely harbored ulterior motives. Leonard Blake clenched his fists as he asked.
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Have you heard of Ragnarok? A dark-attributed dragon that has turned the entire continent upside down.”
“I understand it was originally a simple dragon, but it fell into corruption, lost its reason, and transformed into a monster. Though I heard it has concealed itself.”
“We intend to summon that creature and strike it down.”
Are they deliberately trying to summon a dragon to the Empire now?
When I lifted my head in disbelief, the Aristocratic Elder laughed with sinister amusement.
“Do you wish to know why? But you need not know the reason. Simply lend your strength to slaying the dragon, and I promise to elevate Thanatos to the Regular Knight Order.”
War heroes would receive noble titles. Small territories and estates would be granted. Unbelievable promises followed one after another.
Yet Leonard Blake saw the gleam in his eyes and understood with certainty.
‘If I refuse this offer, they plan to eliminate me….’
After all, it’s just a gathering of trash. I don’t know what they’re planning, but they intend to use us this once and then dispose of us.
Then let’s survive instead.
Let’s survive and prove we’re worth more than those so-called nobles.
“Yes, I accept.”
Thanatos was merely bait to keep Ragnarok’s attention occupied, even if only briefly.
After all, it was impossible for them to fight against a massive dragon—especially one wielding dark magic like Ragnarok.
But those who wielded high-level aura were a different matter.
All those capable of restraining a dragon, even momentarily, had been assigned to the Regular Knight Order where the Mage was stationed.
Leonard, for instance.
“Leonard, you’ll wear the uniform of the Blueheart Knight Order.”
“…Isn’t that the uniform of Thanatos?”
“That’s the unit of darkness. Do you mean to reveal that stigma yourself and fight?”
Leonard, subjected to a contemptuous gaze, obediently accepted the Blueheart Knight Order uniform.
He took their swords as well.
Quite graciously, he even stood at their vanguard. As if he were the knight commander himself.
Naturally, whispers of “who is that?” reached his ears, but he closed both eyes and ears to it.
When all this was over… surely it would be proven that in battle, tainted blood was worth far more than clean blood.
In due time, the dragon appeared at the appointed hour, and the battle began.
Ragnarok’s first heart burst.
Yet in that process, not a single line of record remained for Thanatos, the Punishment Unit.
It was inevitable. They were the Punishment Unit shrouded in darkness, called mercenaries throughout, and as bait, half of them lost their lives.
No—looking back, they needn’t have died in such numbers.
But the Regular Knight Order showed no consideration whatsoever for Thanatos, who served as bait.
That half of them survived at all was remarkable. The Aristocratic Elder was left speechless upon witnessing Thanatos’s return.
It seemed as though they had intended to slaughter everyone except those swordsmen with aura.
And quite naturally….
The promise was not kept.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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