SOTBW - 22

“Najane, wake up! It’s already one o’clock!”

Amelia shouted as she pulled the curtains back. At the sound, Najane barely opened her sleepy eyes.

As soon as they returned to the inn, she had barely managed to wash up with Amelia’s help before collapsing into a deep sleep. And now, it was already one o’clock.

She sat up on the bed with great effort and let out a huge yawn. Amelia didn’t miss the opportunity and shoved food into Najane’s mouth. It was mashed potatoes with minced meat mixed in.

Still half-asleep, Najane chewed the food slowly. She had become accustomed to eating like this.

“How about the captain...?” Najane asked, glancing out the window while putting on her outer clothes. Amelia placed water, food, and freshly dried clothes on a small table as she answered.

“The captains are having some kind of meeting, I heard.”

“A meeting?”

Najane, holding the plate of food, sat by the window. Now that she thought about it, Daniel had mentioned something about the captains having a meeting since the Amberon Knights had nearly been wiped out. They were likely making decisions about something. She looked at Amelia, who was diligently cleaning the small room, then glanced at the bright sunlight outside.

It had been a week since she became a knight. Sometimes, it still felt unreal to be out fighting in the field, but now, she was somewhat used to seeing the Serith. At first, she was full of dreams, eager to fight hard and then rush back to search for Luna, but these days, she was so exhausted that she collapsed into bed as soon as she returned.

The other knights, who had gotten used to this life and built up their stamina, seemed to endure it. But after fighting Serith, Najane felt completely drained, unable to move at all. On days when she had to use a lot of sword energy, her heart would race as if it were about to stop, and she’d fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Naturally, she couldn’t participate in regular training sessions. Najane was always excused.

“The training ground is quiet today,” Najane muttered softly after finishing her meal.

“It’s probably because of the joint training. I heard something about training with the Recheo Knights. After the Amberon Knights were decimated, it seems like the training sessions have increased,” Amelia replied.

Amelia knew more than Najane. Najane didn’t even fully understand how the knight orders operated. If she asked Daniel, he would kindly explain, but at the same time, she felt that it didn’t matter whether she knew or not—no one seemed to care.

There was only one thing Maximón expected from Najane: to fight well. Nothing else mattered.

Najane watched Amelia leave with the blankets, then got dressed. She planned to do a few laps around the training ground. If she kept going at this rate, she’d be too exhausted to find Luna.

“Where are you going?” Amelia asked.

Najane tightened her clothes to keep out the cold and replied, “Exercise.”

“What if you collapse?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be back before three.”

Ignoring Amelia’s protests, Najane headed out to the training ground. She felt weaker than when she trained with Mikael.

After warming up, she was about to do a light lap around the training ground when she suddenly felt a gaze. At first, she thought it was just her imagination, but then she saw someone sitting under the bench at the edge of the training area. The person had white hair and looked difficult to place—whether a young man or an old man was hard to tell.

Najane stared at the person for a moment. No matter how she looked at it, the person didn’t seem to be from the knight order. They were too thin to be a knight, and their clothes were too clean and high-class to be a servant. And the person was sitting in the shade, watching Najane closely, as if calling her over with their gaze.

Najane glanced around the empty training ground and then walked toward the person under the tree. She had thought the person was alone, but behind a thick tree stood another armed figure.

Instinctively, she became cautious of the two. The man with the white hair stood up from the bench and removed his hat.

“Are you Najane Schnicks, the new knight of the Romsoa Knights?”

The man spoke politely.

Najane stepped back slightly from the shade and replied, “…Yes, that’s me, but who are you?”

“Oh, sorry for surprising you. I’m someone who has been supporting the Romsoa Knights for a long time. I came to meet some of the knights. There used to be quite a few knights training here around this time, but… it’s oddly quiet today.”

The mention of sponsorship made Najane relax her guard. She had heard of merchants and nobles who sponsored knight orders, and particularly, she knew that Romsoa was receiving significant sponsorship from many nobles due to Maximón.

She greeted the man again. As a knight of Romsoa, it was proper to behave respectfully toward him.

“Today, the knight orders are having a joint training, so the knights are absent. If you are looking for a specific knight, I can pass along your message,” she said.

“Oh, you’re quite polite. But it’s fine. I came to see you, Miss Schnicks,” the man said with a smile.

Najane immediately recognized that the smile held no genuine meaning. She had often observed that people trying to hide their true feelings would smile like that. She had learned this well by watching nobles when she lived in the Kingdom of Elgort. However, she didn’t show any sign of discomfort.

The man’s eyes were dark green, like Maximón’s. That characteristic was enough for Najane to maintain eye contact.

“Until now, there haven’t been any female knights in Romsoa. Has it been uncomfortable for you?” the man asked, stepping a bit closer while leaning on his cane.

Najane didn’t avoid his gaze and answered sincerely, “I have received enough consideration from the knights, so I haven’t felt uncomfortable.”

“Your accent is quite natural. I heard you’re not from Bastronia,” he said.

“I’m from the Kingdom of Elgort.”

“Oh, I’ve heard rumors about the tragedy there. My condolences. But how did a person from such a distant place become a knight of Romsoa?” he asked.

“Just lucky…”

“Luck? Are you saying it’s luck that Maximón found you?” The man interrupted, muttering coldly. His tone, which had been kind and soft, suddenly turned harsh. Najane looked at him, startled.

The man, limping as he stepped out of the shade, now seemed even more unsettling. His dark green eyes were beautiful, but the blood vessels in them were almost ruptured, stained yellow and mottled, with a dark madness gleaming in his gaze.

Najane took a step back, feeling a sense of dread. Something was wrong. The man gripped his cane tightly, as if about to strike the ground, and let out a dry laugh.

“I had expected you to be beautiful since you’re the first female knight Maximón has ever recruited, but you’re just average. His taste is so ordinary.”

The man clicked his tongue.

Najane clenched her jaw at his words, furrowing her brow.

“That’s rude. A knight is chosen for their skill, not their appearance...”

Before Najane could finish, the man drew a thin sword from his cane and swung it. With a swift whoosh, the blade passed in front of her.

Barely dodging, Najane felt a sharp sting and touched her cheek. A thin trail of blood was dripping from beneath her eye. He had cut her under her eye.

Najane’s gaze hardened as the man grinned, waving the bloodied sword carelessly.

“Maximón has no interest in women. He’s received many beautiful women as gifts, but he didn’t even blink. Some women tried so hard to spend a night with him that they ended up losing their wrists. He’s a truly impressive bastard, isn’t he? But I’m curious, how is it that he chose a woman like you?”

The man shouted, swinging his sword wildly. He seemed like someone who had never trained with a sword before, his movements erratic and unskilled. But Najane had no weapon, and she wasn’t combative or adventurous enough to overpower someone with a weapon.

Every time she barely dodged the sword, her hands were sliced, leaving thin wounds. She considered running, but the person hiding behind the tree was still watching her closely.

If she turned her back and was attacked by that person…

Najane felt both confused and terrified by the sudden situation. She could understand why the man was talking about Maximón, but why was he attacking her?

Then, for just a moment, when her attention wavered, the man’s sword sliced across her waist. The cold metal tore through her clothes and skin, sending a wave of pain through her. She gritted her teeth as the man closed in, grabbing her by the hair.

“How much do you know about Maximón?”

“Nothing but his name...”

“Oh? Then you don’t even know that he’s a monster, do you?”

“Monster?”

Najane frowned at the sudden remark. The wound on her body throbbed rapidly. The sword, which had been near her waist, rose upward, tearing through her clothes.

The man aimed his sword at Najane’s neck. She tensed and took a short breath. He smiled with empty eyes.

“Do you think Maximón will come to save you?”

Najane didn’t answer, keeping her mouth shut. She wasn’t sure. If it were Maximón, he might just click his tongue and walk away after seeing this scene. Perhaps sensing her unease, the man gave a crooked smile.

“I knew Maximón was a monster from a very young age. More than anyone else, I know that bastard better than anyone in this world. So you have to believe me. If, and I mean if, that son of a bitch comes to save you...”

The man whispered something quietly into Najane’s ear. At that moment, a rush of dust and a whoosh sound surrounded them.

Thud! A long sword, flying from somewhere, embedded itself deep into a tree. Najane, momentarily forgetting her situation, stared at the sword lodged in the tree trunk.

Between the roots of the tree, red blood pooled like a small puddle. The person hiding behind the tree had been impaled by the sword and was now dead.

Najane’s eyes quickly trembled. The sword looked very familiar. It was a common sword, the kind you could find anywhere, but the hilt was wrapped in dark, worn-out bandages...

“See? I was right, wasn’t I?”

The man, collecting his sword, smiled emotionlessly. Najane turned around. The words the man had whispered kept echoing in her mind.

“If, and I mean if, that son of a bitch comes to save you, that means you’re important to him. I’m sure you’re his weakness.”

That couldn’t be true. Maximón wasn’t that kind of person. Even though he had saved her during the first battle with Seriths, even though he had applied medicine to her sprained ankle and bandaged it, Maximón wasn’t someone who would rush to her side with a pale, terrified face if she were in danger. So this man couldn’t possibly be Maximón. He couldn’t be. Probably not. Maybe...

“Did it hurt?”

“Are you someone who would care about such things?”

“...Maybe.”

She pretended not to hear that answer. She had done it on purpose. She had planned to find Luna and escape from this place. She had no intention of ever coming back. She wanted to forget everything and live quietly.

The resentment and love for Nellis, the guilt toward Mikael, the people who sold her and Luna into slavery—she wanted to forgive them all and pretend like nothing had happened... like she had never met someone named Maximón, never tangled with him in passion...

The guilt and longing she felt for Luna alone were overwhelming, so she left everything else behind, burying it at her feet. Maximón’s gaze had an underlying curiosity and gentleness, and she had naturally sensed it.

Perhaps it was because it was his first time being with a woman, and the person he had shared his body with suddenly became dear to him. Or maybe it was because she was the first female knight of Romsoa, and Maximón felt the need to care for her.

Najane didn’t place much significance on Maximón’s behavior. She made a conscious effort not to.

But when looking at the vast barley fields, the blue that shimmered under the sunlight, she thought it resembled Maximón. Every time she had such thoughts, she tightly shut her eyes.

Najane had planned to use Maximón appropriately and discard him. She hoped Maximón was more cunning than anyone else. The more vicious, cruel, and merciless he was, the better.

That way, when she broke her promise with him and left this place, she wouldn’t have any lingering feelings.

“Najane!”

Maximón called out. Najane, unable to finish her thoughts, covered her face with her bloodstained hands. In his embrace, she could smell the cold wind. It was the scent of Maximón’s body, a smell she would never forget for a long time.