I’m a Holy Knight, but I Contracted with an Evil God - Chapter 49
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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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Episode 49.
【What’s gotten into you?】
‘That bastard.’
【What?】
‘That’s the one who killed me.’
Leon narrowed his eyes, fixing his gaze on the man standing at the very end of the line.
His heart thrashed heavily, but he’d long since anticipated this moment would come again after his Regression.
The urge to draw his sword and sever that throat surged up at once, yet Leon forced himself to breathe slowly and deliberately.
Tristan was the first to notice the change in Leon.
“What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?”
Tristan lowered his voice, speaking toward Leon, who unusually radiated a chilling aura.
Leon answered, taking care to keep his voice steady.
“It’s nothing.”
Even as Leon replied with a lowered, resolute tone, Tristan didn’t abandon his suspicious gaze.
Leon turned his sight forward, calmly recalling the sensation of the wound that had pierced his abdomen.
Fury burned hot, yet his mind grew colder than ever.
In the moment when Raftio and Ayla, who had their backs turned, began to glance sidelong at Leon, unable to fully contain the sinister aura radiating from him—
The sonorous voice of the attendant guarding the great doors of the Banquet Hall rang out once more, echoing through the chamber.
“The Sun and Guardian of the Empire! His Imperial Majesty Kajimar Rotar de Sancta Luche Loscarda! Crown Prince Ferenz Sandor Loscarda! Princess Elizabeta Ileana Loscarda! They grace us with their presence!”
The very texture of the air shifted in an instant.
It differed from the blade-like momentum one could feel in actual combat against many masters.
What swept through the chamber was a unique, arrogant oppression that only the apex of a vast empire could emit.
The indescribable weight of power carried by the name of the Imperial House itself—not the martial strength of an individual.
The nobles parted in unison before that imposing presence and bowed their heads.
【Is that the Emperor?】
‘Yes. He’s far more vigorous than I remember.’
【Isn’t the Emperor you remember from a few years in the future?】
‘Fair point.’
The Emperor at the center, walking with confident strides straight forward, was more robust and ruddy-cheeked than Leon’s memory of him.
His faded golden hair and eyes gleaming with sharp brilliance were indeed fierce enough to be called the apex of the empire.
The air of the chamber, already heavy with unsettling silence, froze completely beneath a far greater and altogether different weight of oppression.
As Emperor Kajimar ascended the Dais, he swept the surroundings with a leisure-filled smile.
The moment the Emperor’s gaze passed across the Banquet Hall, a suffocating, weighty oppression pressed down upon everyone’s shoulders as if cutting off their breath.
Beneath an outwardly benevolent smile lay the coiled arrogance of an absolute, one who would place all things beneath his feet.
Leon still suppressed the pounding rage that beat at his ears and the urge that threatened to burst forth at any moment with savage patience.
And he fixed his gaze on the Emperor’s lips as they began to open slowly.
“I have arranged this gathering to honor the deeds of a hero who has swept away the calamities of the east and returned the missing people to the bosom of their families. Yet how could a mere toast do justice to such brilliant accomplishments? Thus, I have decided to grant the earnest petition of Raftio, the High Priest of Arseriel, and accept our hero Leon as a new member of Servallin. Therefore, I hereby declare that Leon shall inherit the name of Servallin as the adopted son of High Priest Raftio, becoming a full member of Servallin with all attendant rights and dignities.”
As the chamber stirred, the Emperor gestured, and an attendant stepped forward bearing a document sealed with golden wax upon a silver tray.
“Leon, elite knight of the Light Order. Come forward.”
At the Emperor Kajimar’s weighty summons, Leon advanced toward the Dais alongside Raftio.
And there, before the Emperor and the two High Priests, he knelt upon one knee with due reverence.
“As witness to this sacred covenant, High Priest Eckhardt of Vanisere has graciously come forward. Let it be proclaimed to all: henceforth, Leon of Arseriel is now complete as Leon Servallin, the noble cornerstone of the empire, eternally guaranteed by the Imperial House, Vanisere, and Arseriel.”
As the Emperor’s declaration concluded, a certificate bearing the seals of Arseriel, Vanisere, and the Imperial House was presented into Leon’s hands.
Following this, Raftio personally placed a pendant engraved with the Servallin crest about Leon’s neck.
In the moment the weight of cold metal touched the nape of Leon’s neck, a perfect ceremony that none could dare challenge reached its end.
With the momentous declaration and solemn ceremony concluded, the Banquet Hall descended into chaos.
The nobles’ eyes, which moments before had regarded Leon as a “lucky commoner brat,” now flickered with shock and bewilderment.
“If only I’d known, I’d have made my mark the moment we entered the hall…!”
“Hush! Mind your tongue! He’s now a member of the Servallin House, guaranteed by the Imperial Court itself. We must go at once and apologize for our earlier rudeness, and raise a toast to his glory!”
“Make way, everyone! Let me be the first to pay my respects to the new Servallin prince!”
In the swiftly reversed atmosphere, countless nobles poured toward Leon like a swarm of ravenous ants.
Unlike mere moments before when they’d treated him as little more than Raftio or Ayla’s escort, the nobles now vied desperately to engage Leon in conversation.
In the instant calculating gazes and undisguised appraisals descended upon Leon from all sides like a suffocating tide, Raftio stepped forward to block the swarming nobles, his gentle smile fixed firmly in place.
“The boy has only just become a member of our house. The turmoil of the banquet would still be too harsh for him. I should like to postpone introductions to another occasion.”
“But surely…”
A timid protest emerged, but Raftio’s stance remained unyielding.
When Ayla joined forces with him, no one dared approach Leon’s side.
And Leon did not waste the opportunity these two had created for him.
Wearing a picture-perfect smile, Leon deftly wove his way through the crowd and settled into a quiet corner of the Banquet Hall.
【How quickly their attitudes shift. Easier than turning over your hand. Are these truly the same ones who looked down upon you mere moments ago?】
‘That’s what all nobility is like, after all.’
Leon swallowed his scorn and leaned his back against the curtained wall.
He’d deflected easily enough, yet the truth was he’d been in considerable difficulty.
If Raftio and Ayla hadn’t stepped in to clear a path themselves, escape would have been far harder.
‘The Head of House Servallin didn’t attend the banquet, so I’ve at least been spared the tedious necessity of facing every elder in the family.’
【Can a Head of House skip something like this?】
‘Movement must be difficult for him. The High Priest is serving as the Head’s proxy today, so it’s fine.’
Leon exhaled softly and steadied his ragged breathing.
The combination of the Servallin name and the fact of being a Holy Mark Manifestation wielder seemed set to bring far greater turbulence than Leon had anticipated.
Yet what gnawed at Leon’s nerves was not merely the commotion of the nobility.
Leon turned his gaze toward the delegation from Vanisere gathered at the far opposite end of the Banquet Hall.
……
Beyond the throng of people, his face came into view.
Leon observed that figure with eyes grown cold.
‘……Not yet.’
Leon closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool wall.
He reminded himself once more of where he stood.
He recalled as well the man’s affiliation and rank.
Simple killing is an easy thing.
But to end a life required proper justification—a fitting reason and circumstance that could make that death righteous.
“All that pretense before, and now you’re like ants thrown onto a griddle. Why are you so stiff? Nervous?”
“……Hardly. The commotion is simply excessive.”
Leon lifted the corner of his mouth slightly as he replied.
It was a smile forced into composure, yet the rigidity still lingering at his jaw betrayed that his displeasure stemmed from far more than mere noise.
Perhaps for that reason.
Tristan pressed him with a suspicious squint.
“Really now—what’s going on? Run into an enemy or something?”
So he wouldn’t let it pass after all.
Leon laughed sourly and shook his head.
“Mere confusion. I mistook someone.”
It was an unconvincing answer, yet Tristan didn’t press further.
Instead, he held out one of the two goblets he carried, offering it to Leon.
“Drink this and lighten up a bit. Last time I saw you, you seemed to enjoy wine. There’s nothing like it for loosening tension.”
Tristan spoke as he playfully swirled the goblet toward Leon.
The crimson liquid wavered within the glass, releasing an enticing fragrance.
“I’m not sure of the details, but they call this Liza’s Quibera, apparently? Some wine sponsored by the Princess, they say?”
As Leon accepted the goblet, Tristan drained his own in a single gulp.
He spoke with a deeply satisfied expression.
“Ah, this is good. I don’t know much about wine, but I can certainly tell this tastes excellent.”
He laughed carelessly as he said it, yet couldn’t quite hide a weariness behind his expression.
The way he’d emptied his goblet just now seemed less about the wine’s sweetness and more like a means to endure, however briefly, the oppressive and cloying atmosphere of this place.
Besides, Tristan bore the marked features of an easterner.
He would find this banquet’s atmosphere just as suffocating as Leon did.
Leon watched Tristan toy with the empty goblet in jest, then asked quietly.
“Aren’t you bored?”
“Bored? Absolutely bored and sick of it.”
Tristan twisted his mouth and muttered.
True to his word, the air in the Banquet Hall was nauseating.
No matter how dull Tristan’s senses might be, what he—an elite knight by title—endured would far exceed what an ordinary person could feel.
Had he been unable to modulate the range of his senses, Leon would have been in the same predicament.
‘Tristan feels the Banquet Hall’s unpleasantness far more vividly than I do.’
【Stronger power brings greater self-control. That grumbler’s senses are simply too crude to manage.】
‘That’s harsh.’
【Am I wrong?】
Leon laughed dryly at Eclijae’s sharp assessment and brought the goblet to his lips.
【Wait.】
‘What?’
【Don’t drink that wine.】
Continued in next chapter ▶
Holy Knight who made a contract with an evil god
Author
Ram Dat
Publisher
Kim Seok-hwan, Choi Se-ra
Publishing House
Grae Publishing
Inquiries
[email protected]
Publication Date
March 27, 2026
UCI
G720:N+A327-20260227066
※ This e-book is protected under copyright law. Unauthorized reproduction and distribution are strictly prohibited. Violators may face criminal and civil penalties.
※ Pentagram welcomes manuscripts from writers.
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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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