Chapter 356

Chapter 356
Chapter 356

—

…Even though no official order had been given to trigger the mechanism.

Zeeeeeeeng!

“Wh-what is going on?”

“Who is responsible for this activation?!”

The spatial warp roared to life.

The holy knights stationed as sentries could only look on with stunned expressions.

This specific warp gate had remained dormant for more than ten years.

Why was it suddenly being forced into operation now?

However, the shocks were only beginning.

“S-something is emerging!”

“That is…!”

…Because a group of travelers had appeared, transitioning through the gate.

It was not a solitary traveler, but a small army.

“What are they mounted on?”

“Is that a dragon?”

“N-no. Those are Fairy Dragons…!”

“Fairy Dragons…?!”

Every single rider was mounted atop a Fairy Dragon.

They were a breed far more prestigious than standard dragonkind.

A legendary species of dragon that many believed had vanished from the world ages ago.

And there were more than ten of them in formation.

The mere sight of the procession was enough to make one’s blood run cold.

The holy knights were paralyzed, unsure of how to respond to such a mythical arrival.

In that heavy silence.

The man positioned at the head of the unit spoke with a resonant, grave tone.

“We represent the Knights of the Round Table. I am Abelov, the vice-commander of our order. We have come to request an audience with your Pope.”

I am the Master of the Round Table.

The Knights of the Round Table!

The peerless martial force led by the legendary Wilhelm.

In truth, while the names of the commander Wilhelm and the Pure White Knight Serengeti were famous, the identities of the other members were shrouded in mystery.

They were like phantoms.

The ‘Ghost Knight Order’ that had haunted and dominated countless theaters of war was this very group.

They were the miracle that had risen from the tiny Kingdom of Balan!

While the current prosperity of the Kingdom of Balan was largely owed to the ‘Knights of the Round Table’, they had not been part of that realm from their inception.

-They are soldiers of fortune.

-Beasts that manifest wherever the fires of war burn!

-Anonymous, without history, the specters of the front lines.

The battlefield was the cradle where they had been forged.

A mercenary knight order that sold their martial prowess to warring states in exchange for coin.

Though they bore the title of a knightly order, they functioned essentially as a mercenary company.

Yet, no one dared to categorize them as mere sellswords.

They did not strike solely for profit; they weighed their actions against cause and integrity.

However, once they crossed onto the field of slaughter.

They transformed into vengeful spirits.

They were instruments of destruction that seemed to transcend human limits.

Violent, bloodthirsty ghosts who existed only for the kill!

-If it were not for Wilhelm’s leadership, the Knights of the Round Table would be remembered as a pack of slaughtering demons.

Such rumors were frequently whispered in the shadows.

Because their true natures were hidden, they had been carefully presented to the world through the lens of Wilhelm’s reputation.

The soldiers who had stood against them in combat invariably lost their courage.

It was a marvel of recruitment—how had he managed to assemble such a concentrated group of monsters?

“The Knights of the Round Table?”

“Vice-commander Abelov…?”

The bystanders who heard the name could only tilt their heads in confusion.

The Knights of the Round Table were supposed to be gone.

The consensus was that the majority had perished during the Great Expedition.

Furthermore, the name of the vice-commander had never been public knowledge.

From the start, only Wilhelm and Serengeti had been known to the world; even the second-in-command had remained a secret.

And yet.

The Knights of the Round Table, and a vice-commander named Abelov?

But they could not dismiss the claim as a fabrication.

First, there was the display of power.

How could anyone force their way through a sealed warp gate?

Most importantly, there was the sheer pressure emanating from the man calling himself Abelov.

His presence was so intense it felt as though it was suffocating the entire holy city.

“Wait. Isn’t that the knightess Serengeti?”

“The Pure White Knight Serengeti?”

“Oh, you’re right!”

At that moment.

The crowd looked past the vice-commander Abelov.

She had been briefly obscured by Abelov’s overwhelming aura, but the figure behind him was undoubtedly the Pure White Knight Serengeti.

Even encased in her helm and plate, her distinct, shimmering presence was impossible to mistake.

The whispers among the citizens who recognized Serengeti spread like wildfire.

“It’s her. The one who forced King Friedrich of the Balan Kingdom to retreat recently…!”

“If the Pure White Knight is among them… then they truly are the Knights of the Round Table.”

“Has the order of the Round Table been reborn?”

“But why have they come to the holy city of Adrium?”

Serengeti was currently the most discussed figure in all of Pangenia.

The tale of King Friedrich of the Iron Kingdom—who had been sweeping through neighboring lands like a hurricane—and how he had been checked by Serengeti in a legendary duel was a story told in every tavern.

“The reports of Wilhelm sightings that have been surfacing lately…”

“…Does this mean those rumors were true?”

“Is it possible? Are they all still among the living?”

“That can’t be. A mercenary I know swore he watched several of them fall with his own eyes!”

“Specters that refuse to die even when slain…!”

Gulp!

One by one, the onlookers swallowed hard.

The legend that the spirits of the Round Table could not be killed might be more than just a campfire story.

Perhaps they really were undying.

The mystery remained: why were they standing here?

In Adrium, the sacred capital of the Goddess Cult.

“…I was curious about the identity of the trespassers who dared violate the holy city, but it is you.”

A voice rang out, vibrating through the atmosphere as if the air itself was a struck bell.

“It is Lord Marlon!”

“The premier holy knight!”

“Woooow…!”

The spectators erupted in cheers.

Marlon, the man who served directly under the Pope and was hailed as the mightiest warrior of the faith.

He had arrived at the scene at the head of a contingent of holy knights.

He was seen as invincible.

An unmatched titan.

Since he was rarely seen by the public, his appearance was a cause for celebration.

However, Marlon himself was deeply unsettled.

“I was led to believe you perished during the Great Expedition.”

He recognized them.

He might not have known their personal names, but he could sense that these men were the genuine ‘Knights of the Round Table’.

But it defied logic.

They had been wiped out in the Great Expedition.

This wasn’t just hearsay; Marlon had conducted his own investigation based on the most secretive and reliable intelligence.

And yet, here they stood, apparently restored.

“We have come for an audience with the Pope.”

“His Holiness is occupied. He has no time for those who force their way through our gates.”

“If you deny us, we will be forced to reach him by our own means.”

“…You believe you can pass through me?”

Marlon let out a dismissive scoff.

Vice-commander Abelov.

While the name was new to him, the man was not.

He had crossed blades with Abelov once before on a past battlefield.

And.

“Have you forgotten that you already suffered defeat at my hands?”

Abelov had been beaten by Marlon.

He was a formidable fighter, as the legends claimed, but he had been no match for Marlon’s strength.

He had been on the verge of losing his life due to the vast disparity in their power.

If Saintess Sea had not intervened at the time, his head would have been taken then and there.

And now, even if the commander Wilhelm himself had appeared it would be a tall order, but here was Abelov.

A rematch seemed futile.

The conclusion was already written.

In that brief instant.

Shing!

Vice-commander Abelov unsheathed his blade and spoke.

“We of the Round Table have come to hold the Pope accountable for hiding the demise of the goddess and aligning with a herald of an outer god. If you obstruct us, we will deem you an accessory to these crimes and cut you down.”

His words were firm.

His voice did not waver for a second.

His declaration echoed through the streets of the holy city.

“Wh-what is he saying?”

“The goddess is gone…?”

“Silence! Do not repeat such heresy!”

“There is no way His Holiness would consort with an apostle of a foreign god!”

…The panic among the populace intensified.

The idea that the goddess was dead was unthinkable.

Even more ridiculous was the suggestion that the Pope would hide such a tragedy to conspire with an alien deity.

Marlon’s face turned into a mask of cold fury.

“Your tongue is filled with blasphemy. Abelov… for this, you and your companions will face the executioner’s block.”

Shing!

Marlon, the greatest of the holy knights, leveled his sword.

He could not tolerate such insults to the faith.

He intended to tear them apart.

The tension peaked as the Goddess Cult’s champion, Marlon, faced off against the Round Table’s second-in-command, Abelov.

The crowd watched with bated breath, sensing the impending clash of titans.

✺✺✺

For Abelov, the recent past felt like an endless vision.

Vivid images of his life, from his birth to the moment of his death, had replayed in his mind.

-The child marked by Lord Diablo.

-You are the chosen one. You must embrace your end.

His original purpose was to serve as a living sacrifice to a dark deity.

His destiny was to be consumed by Diablo, one of the Four Great Evil Gods—the most terrifying of their kind.

Perhaps that was why.

Abelov had never understood the concept of hope.

He didn’t know such a thing was possible.

Not until he encountered the Knight King, Wilhelm.

-Abelov. Your potential is far too great to be thrown away. Will you come with me?

Wilhelm, who had dismantled the entire dark cult, had extended a hand to Abelov.

He had offered the same salvation to all the others who now stood with him.

Though they were not formally his pupils, they were essentially Wilhelm’s disciples.

They had traveled through countless wars by his side, sharing every triumph and tragedy.

He had taught them that the sword was a way to truly live.

It didn’t matter if the world never knew their names.

As long as they could fight alongside Wilhelm.

As long as they could be witnesses to the epic he was creating!

He was more than willing to give his life for that.

‘I should be a corpse.’

Abelov had indeed died during the Great Expedition.

He had pushed his body to the ultimate limit to ensure that the Knight King Wilhelm could confront the Demon King.

But…

He had been brought back.

The World Tree had granted them refurbished forms.

Physicalities of immense power.

A body that was stronger, more refined, and more durable than anything he had possessed before!

“H-how is this possible…!”

Marlon’s eyes widened in shock.

Despite his reputation as the premier holy knight.

His blade could not find its mark.

On the contrary, Abelov’s swordsmanship was completely suppressing Marlon.

How could the balance of power have shifted so drastically?

It wasn’t just a matter of a perfected body.

Abelov’s technical skill had ascended.

The difference was night and day.

‘Because I was raised as an offering, my physical form could never keep pace with my inherent talent.’

Abelov had always lived with that frustration.

His talent was extraordinary—enough to catch the eye of an evil god.

But because he was destined for sacrifice, his training had been stunted in his youth.

By the time Wilhelm rescued him, his body had already become set and inflexible.

The same was true for his comrades.

But now, with a form crafted by the World Tree, his true potential was finally manifesting.

However, there was another reason for his dominance over Marlon.

Shlick!

Marlon’s blade, forged of holy light, was severed.

In the blink of an eye, Abelov’s steel was pressed against Marlon’s throat.

“As I suspected, you have become brittle.”

Abelov’s voice carried a hint of letdown.

It was true that he had become more powerful,

But it was also undeniable that Marlon’s own strength had waned.

A holy knight’s power was a gift from their deity.

With the goddess no longer among the living, the divine energy fueling the holy knights was naturally fading.

“If you wish for this man to remain alive, step aside.”

“…How dare you threaten Commander Marlon…!”

The surrounding holy knights leveled their weapons as one.

In that tense moment.

“Clear the path.”

A new figure emerged, blocking their line of fire.

The onlookers gasped in unison.

“S-Saintess Sea?”

“Saintess, this is a military matter. You should not be here.”

The knights were focused on stopping the invaders.

This was no place for a spiritual leader.

But Saintess Sea shook her head with quiet authority.

“I am not the one intervening.”

She looked toward the newcomers.

“His Holiness the Pope is expecting you. Knights of the Round Table.”

The inner sanctum of the Holy See.

The Pope sat at the center of the hall, flanked by the twelve cardinals.

He slowly lifted his gaze to meet the eyes of the Knights of the Round Table.

“…I have been informed of your arrival. It was I you were seeking?”

His face was etched with age and exhaustion.

His skin was marked by the spots of time.

He appeared as a fragile old man—a state that seemed incongruous for the supreme leader of the faith.