The Knight Who Devours Magic - Chapter 79

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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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Chapter 79. Royal Audience
“Sir Karina and Sir Munno are currently carrying out the King’s orders.”
Rantus’s tone was cold, devoid of warmth.
The man who had been smiling all along suddenly turned grave, which would have been jarring to most—but Karina simply smiled knowingly and nodded.
“I understand, Rantus. I’ve only come to deliver a message.”
“A message?”
“The young lady is waiting for you, Prince Munno. Once the audience concludes, I’ll have someone fetch you. I do hope you’ll come.”
Munno, who had been staring blankly at Karina, finally snapped to attention and nodded.
“Ah, yes. Of course…….”
The moment the words left his mouth, his father’s words flickered through his mind.
— ……Never accept, no matter what invitation comes from the prince’s gatherings.
Ah, damn it.
He realized he’d made a mistake.
“You do mean you’ll come, yes?”
Faced with Karina’s radiant smile, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
‘It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. She’s even more……. No, that’s not it. Hell.’
When he realized he had no idea what expression was on his own face—
“Then I shall await you, Prince Munno.”
“Ah……. That is…….”
“I hear you’ve grown considerably by reputation. I do look forward to sparring with you again.”
Meeting Karina’s unwavering gaze, his tangled thoughts suddenly crystallized.
Setting aside her enchanting beauty, he could see that time had changed not only him.
Her frame carried a sturdier strength than before, and the very air shifted with each of her movements.
‘4th-class……. In all this time…….’
Perhaps this was indeed the caliber of talent that Enoch Trian himself had seen fit to grant an Artifact.
But he, too, had grown in ways that transcended his former self.
“……Hmm. I understand. I look forward to it as well.”
He answered with a hint of competitive spirit, and Karina’s smile broadened. She gave a decisive nod and turned to leave.
Hah.
‘As expected…….’
He felt almost amused at his own needless tension, but for someone like Munno, who had little confidence in matters between men and women, this was far more comfortable.
To remain as comrades who measured their skill purely as knights, exchanging knowledge through competition.
How clean a relationship that was…….
“She’s quite the fighting cock, Sir Munno. You’d do well to be careful…….”
“What?”
At Rantus’s sudden interjection, tinged with irritation, a sharp retort tumbled from his lips before he could stop it.
Fortunately, Rantus seemed more focused on criticizing Karina than on Munno’s reaction.
“The moment my lord gained a place in the royal court, this woman began provoking the Royal Knights into duels, challenging them left and right.”
“Provoking them?”
That didn’t sound like her at all.
“Well, let’s call it provocation instead. In any case, she’s been stirring up fights constantly, as if possessed by the ghost of someone who died unable to spar…….”
Ah.
What am I saying?
“Then she must have won them all, it seems.”
“……Pardon?”
“Simply that Sir Karina appears far too unblemished for all that fighting.”
“Hmph. That’s true enough. Which is precisely why I warn you. She’s said to be 4th-class, and not long ago, she defeated even Kairok, the vice-commander of the Steel Brigade.”
“What?”
“You do know the Royal Knight Order is divided into three brigades—Red Iron, White Iron, and Steel?”
“Ah……. I’ve heard mention of it…….”
“The Steel Brigade is ranked third among them, but Vice-Commander Kairok is a 5th-class knight. A 4th-class defeated a 5th-class. Do you understand?”
That was no small feat…….
“It seems the name of the Knight of the Gale must be spreading widely through the Royal Palace.”
Even as he thought a rematch might prove difficult—
‘Still, you don’t know until you’ve tested it.’
His competitive fire only burned hotter.
And yet—
“So what of it? She’s already sharp-featured enough as is, and now she’s got the reputation of a savage woman. I suppose she’ll have to settle for marriage……. Tsk.”
It was precisely this dismissiveness from Rantus that rubbed him the wrong way.
“Seems you took a loss yourself, Rantus.”
Though he caught Rantus’s face tightening at the abrupt remark,
Munno felt not a shred of regret.
“……That said, most 4th-class knights in the Capital have either lost to her or are avoiding sparring matches, so I’m merely cautioning you as well.”
Rantus added another word as if displeased, but that only stoked the fire further.
If anything, anticipation of their next meeting only grew stronger.
“Thank you for the advice.”
“Ahem. Well then, until next time.”
Munno turned toward the departing Rantus with a respectful nod, then approached the Inner Palace gates.
“I am Munno Drasken, summoned for a royal audience.”
* * *
The protocol for an audience was elaborate.
He’d heard word reached the court the moment he entered the North Gate, and yet—
“Once the doors open…….”
The decorum to observe when the Grand Throne Hall doors opened, the proper distance to maintain from the king, the etiquette for both speaking and listening—
it seemed to take more than an hour just to be briefed on all of it.
And yet.
“Our Iron Kingdom, unlike the Empire, has no unnecessary ceremony, so how practical our protocol is, no?”
An elderly chamberlain of the royal household had chuckled at his discomfort and said this.
Well, what could he do.
‘Just shut up and listen.’
After going through all those procedures and finally reaching the ornate, heavily gilded front doors of the Grand Throne Hall,
the knights guarding them held out odd rods and barred his way.
‘Like an airport security checkpoint.’
In his previous life he’d never even been on a plane, only seen them in videos, so experiencing something similar in a fantasy world struck him as absurd enough to laugh about—
when an unexpected word came from the knight.
“There’s a mana reaction from the object at your waist, sir.”
“Ah, this…….”
He was referring to the ‘sword’ wound around his waist in its transformed state.
He’d almost scattered it away, but hesitated at the thought of whether dropping a pile of metal inside the royal palace truly fit the protocol.
‘Wait…….’
Clink.
A good idea struck him suddenly, and he reshaped the sword back into its original two-handed sword form.
“……I’d forgotten, you see. It’s so habitual for me to carry it. Here, I’ll entrust it to you.”
The knights, who had been wary a moment before, now smiled and accepted the blade.
And as the attendants who received it retreated and withdrew,
“Is that the Black Knight’s…….”
“The mana contained seems less than that though…….”
“Surely there’s a particular way the original owner uses it.”
“Indeed, true artifacts choose their masters, so how could we judge…….”
Listening to their distant murmurs, he could smile fully.
‘A Spirit Arts user would see through it at once, but…… would there even be one among the attendants?’
His unique Spirit Arts skill, a ‘sword’ that maintained its form even when separated from his body.
If they mistook this weapon—created from his special Spirit Arts linked to his unique ability—for a ‘rumored artifact,’ it was a fortunate misunderstanding.
Even if these attendants happened to speak with the North Gate guards, they’d likely cross-confirm their stories and conjure up the misconception themselves, so it hardly mattered.
“Well then, are you ready?”
“Yes.”
The moment he answered the knight,
“The genius knight of Drasken, the Black Knight Sir Munno Drasken requests a royal audience!!!!”
‘What!?’
Two knights roared with tremendous voices.
‘……Almost burst my eardrums. Damn.’
He found himself glaring at the knights opening the doors before he realized it.
Grrrrrind.
Then, with a deafening rumble, the massive doors of the Grand Throne Hall opened.
It was only when he caught the knight’s eye—a look that seemed to say ‘What are you doing?’—that he belatedly turned his attention to what lay beyond the open doors.
Grrrrring.
A path carpeted with crimson silk stretched endlessly forward.
A ceiling soaring to vertiginous heights, and three pairs of pillars flanking either side bore three-dimensional carvings of enigmatic figures resembling both human and animal forms,
while stained glass decorating the windows on both sides of the hall refracted multiple hues of light, creating an radiant atmosphere.
‘This was indoors, wasn’t it? Where’s the light coming from?’
Munno’s gaze drifted to an oddly incongruous spot,
and only then did he notice the nobles lined up on either side, their eyes fixed upon him—he swallowed hard.
‘I’m not having a private audience with the king, am I?’
Though now that he thought about it, why would a king grant him a private audience?
Come to think of it, during the etiquette lessons earlier, he seemed to recall the attendants muttering something about a “council in session.”
Tense, he scraped together what he could remember, bowed his head slightly, and began to advance along the silk carpet at a measured pace, leading with his left foot.
“Far younger than expected…….”
“Already 3-Star…….”
“But first we must deal with these mages…….”
He did his best to ignore the murmurs of the assembled nobles, their voices barely audible.
Then, spotting the deeply worn crease in the silk carpet, he dropped to one knee.
“I am Munno, and I bow before the ruler of this righteous kingdom, master of steel.”
The moment the greeting left his lips, he sensed he had omitted something substantial from the etiquette he’d been taught, yet what was done was done.
Besides.
“Hah-hah-hah. How refreshingly straightforward for one so young.”
The weathered voice descending from above seemed to carry genuine pleasure, so there appeared to be no cause for concern.
“Raise your head, Munno.”
As he lifted his gaze, there appeared before him a large, broad-shouldered man in his middle years—one whose silver hair gleamed like burnished metal, whose mustache and beard were trimmed with meticulous care, and whose bearing suggested a knight more than a king, radiating an imposing dignity.
This was Lockhart Iron, the first of his name, sovereign of this realm.
Though he appeared aged at first glance, Munno understood that silver hair was merely a trait of the Iron royal line; the king was presently in his mid-forties.
In truth, his face bore not a single wrinkle, and the more closely one examined him, the younger he appeared.
Yet what struck Munno most forcefully in that first impression was something else entirely.
‘He resembles someone.’
Absurdly, that was all.
Their features differed, their bearing was distinct, even their eye color—his were grey—and age were wholly different,
‘yet there’s something uncannily alike about him.’
The very atmosphere surrounding the king echoed that of Enoch Trian, his great-uncle (?), with an eerie similitude.
So much so that one might have wondered if they were brothers.
Of course, the king did not radiate quite the same degree of power.
‘Perhaps 3-Star at best.’
Yet the aura he emanated bore an uncannily parallel weight, a pressure that was equally formidable.
It was potent enough to draw Munno’s attention to the knights and priests arrayed about the chamber.
“You are the Black Knight who can pierce through that new technique of the mages, what they call the ‘Veil,’ are you not? Ah, but I do not doubt it—I ask merely for confirmation, given how young you appear.”
“If you’re asking whether I’m the one who’s been hunting demon-spawn pretending to be human of late, then yes, Your Majesty. That would be me.”
His half-joking tone, drawn from a sense of unexpected rapport, caused the gazes around him to shift sharply—he felt it palpably.
Yet.
“Heh-heh-heh. Yes, it shows. You have spirit.”
The king seemed to approve, so there would likely be no issue after all.
The reaction aligned with what the atmosphere alone had suggested.
‘Could they really be brothers? Is Trian’s blood mixed with mine? Hmph.’
He kept the unspoken thought locked within.
Then.
“Good. Since you speak so plainly, I shall do likewise. Show me your ability.”
“Your Majesty?”
“Both the Holy Temple and the Royal Palace have each developed techniques to pierce this Veil. But neither has yet proven itself, so I wish to compare them against your demonstrated skill.”
The explanation was ambiguous enough to warrant hesitation.
“How……do you mean, Your Majesty?”
“How? Competition is always the truest proof.”
“Your Majesty?”
“Of late, disappearances and murders within the Capital have been increasing slightly, yet the perpetrators remain uncaught. If it is not that all the ministers of this kingdom are incompetent…….”
At the moment the king’s gaze swept across the assembled ministers, each visibly stiffened and averted their eyes.
When the king’s cold smile turned back toward Munno, his eyes carried a different weight.
“……then surely these demon-spawn who hide their Demonic Energy must be seeping into the Capital in no small numbers. So I propose a competition.”
“Your Majesty?”
Bewildered, he waited for clarification.
“You, the Holy Temple, and the Royal Palace—each shall use your own methods to hunt down these worms who have sold their souls to demons, and we shall tally the results. What say you? Do you lack confidence?”
The king’s words carried a playful provocation, as if testing him.
And Munno was not one to shy from such a challenge.
“I would not decline, Your Majesty. Though I confess I worry whether I shall emerge victorious.”
He felt a tremor run through a certain knight and priest standing at the king’s side, though he paid it no mind.
“Ha-ha-ha! Yes, that’s what a man should say. Excellent. If you win, I’ll prepare a grand reward for you. Will you give it a try?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
At Munno’s confident reply, the King laughed heartily once more.

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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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