SOTB 45

As the sun rose, Taylor, supported by Olkoni, headed toward the barracks. A few knights and soldiers approached to offer their thanks, but as soon as they saw Taylor, they quickly stepped aside. Taylor’s complexion was pale, as though someone who had vomited blood multiple times.

Her body, stripped of armor, looked so emaciated it was pitiful, and her limbs trembled as if she were suffering from chills. The soldiers, removing their helmets, stepped aside to let Taylor rest quickly. The priests had already arrived at the temporary barracks of the Recheo Order.

The priests lit a brazier to warm the barracks and hurriedly massaged Taylor’s limbs with heated stones. Taylor, as though she had just rolled in the snow, felt a chill all over her body.

One of the priests offered Taylor some wine. The wine had been mixed with a tranquilizer, intended to calm the soldiers who had been deeply shocked by the battle with Seriths. The tranquilizer had been added in such excess that white powder had gathered at the bottom of the cup, like sand.

With Olkoni’s help, Taylor drank all of the wine. After swallowing a long sigh, Taylor slowly closed her eyes.

How much longer could she live? The priests had warned Taylor not to use her sword aura more than once a day. If she kept using it with her frail body, she might die of a heart attack during the fight with Seriths.

But the priests must have known. They must have known how meaningless and futile such words were in this situation.

At over seventy years old, Taylor had no choice but to wield her sword aura dozens of times a day and take on the role of the shield at the front lines. The situation at the fortress was dire. The fourth wall, where many of the Sainths were concentrated, was in better condition thanks to Maximón and the Romsoa Knights, but the other walls were in a different state.

For months, the soldiers had been sacrificing their lives daily to defend the walls. In this field, filled with despair, miracles were needed to lift the soldiers’ courage as they faced the Seriths. A knight with overwhelming strength like Maximón Elgort or a genius knight like Taylor Elderketh was needed to turn the tide of battle.

Taylor knew. She knew how reckless it was to continue fighting with such a body.

But there was no other choice. Taylor had already sensed her fate. Like many of her disciples, she would either die fighting Seriths or use her last bit of life force to continue the fight, eventually dying unexpectedly...

It didn’t matter anymore. As a Sword Master and the trusted leader of the Recheo Order, she had to fulfill her responsibility. If she died battling monsters after a fierce struggle, that would be a true knight’s end.

There were no regrets.

No regrets at all...

“Master, if I become a knight at the Noctis Fortress, will my father be pleased? I wish he would care for me more than Lucas. I hate people, and it bothers me when they fear and avoid me. I don’t know what to do if I think my father dislikes me.”

...Maximón.

Taylor’s face grew serious as she thought of Maximón, the only hope of the Kingdom of Bastronia.

She had known that Maximón was obsessed with Edwin’s affection and had tried to make friends with him. But Maximón hated those children. He believed friendship could never last forever.

But in reality, Maximón loved no one. If Maximón truly loved Edwin as a father, he would not have plotted to kill Lucas. The reason Maximón had spared Lucas was simple—Lucas had to cause chaos so that Edwin would turn his attention back to Maximón.

Lucas had insulted the pope and was banned from all the kingdom’s churches. He was punished and could no longer enjoy the protection of the church as a noble. At that time, Edwin had been more than willing to help Maximón. At least in that moment, Maximón had been Edwin’s true son.

But no one could defy fate. No matter how much of a worthless troublemaker Lucas was, he remained Edwin’s first and foremost child in Edwin’s heart.

As Taylor pondered Maximón’s severe emotional deprivation, she clenched her teeth in extreme pain, as if her hands and feet had been burned. Using her sword aura recklessly caused her limbs to tingle, and her skin felt as though it were burning from within.

“Olkoni. Just... just a little more wine,” Taylor said in a barely audible voice. Olkoni quickly poured more wine into the cup, where the tranquilizer had settled.

At that moment, the barracks, which had been bustling with the soldiers’ shouts, suddenly fell quiet. Olkoni, who had been removing the cork, glanced at the entrance.

With cold sweat on her face, Taylor fixed her gaze on the barracks before straightening her posture. Maximón entered the barracks. He had clearly come straight from the battlefield, as his entire body was stained with blue blood from head to toe.

“...Olkoni. Could you give us a moment?” Taylor spoke politely. Olkoni, after filling the cup with wine, obediently followed Taylor’s request and left. With just the two of them left in the barracks, Taylor gave a slight smile and gestured to the chair with a nod.

“Sit down, Mosh. Judging by how quickly you came straight to Recheo, it seems like something urgent has come up.”

Maximón, brushing the blood-soaked hair from his face, sat down in the chair. Taylor immediately noticed his serious condition. After fighting all night with her sword aura flashing endlessly, it was clear her body had been pushed beyond its limits.

He silently watched Taylor’s trembling hands. This was also Najane’s future. If Najane continued to recklessly use his sword aura like Taylor, he would soon end up like this.

If Najane’s body were to weaken just enough to survive, it would please Maximón greatly. But if the worst were to happen and he died...

Maximón’s expression darkened slightly.

“How can we extend Najane’s life?”

Taylor blinked at Maximón’s unexpected question. It was a completely out-of-the-blue inquiry. Maximón had been using Najane as a knight no matter what happened to him. Taylor had heard the rumors.

The White Knight of Romsoa, the Moonlight Knight, the new Sword Master...

And now, suddenly, he was concerned for her health.

Taylor thought it was quite uncharacteristic of Maximón to ask such a question as she struggled to lift her wine cup.

“I think I told you before, didn’t I? If you want to save that kid, you should stop him from using his sword aura right now.”

“Is there no other way? If he stops using the sword aura before his body deteriorates...”

“That’s impossible. By the time his body starts breaking down, symptoms will appear—nosebleeds, anemia, narcolepsy... anything. But once noticeable symptoms appear, it’s irreversible. Even if he looks fine on the outside, it means his insides are ruined. If you assume he won’t use his sword aura once symptoms appear, well... maybe he could live a bit longer.”

With Maximón’s help, Taylor finally managed to swallow the wine, then slumped in her chair. Perhaps the tranquilizer was starting to take effect, as the tingling in her limbs began to subside. She gazed up at the barracks, which swayed in the north wind, and quietly spoke.

“You’re still desperate to use that kid for Marquis Elgort, aren’t you? You plan to treat him when he collapses from vomiting blood and then send him back out into the field?”

“No. I won’t do that.”

“…What?”

Taylor stared at Maximón, who was smiling faintly. Sensing something was off, she quickly corrected her posture.

“…What do you mean by that?”

“You’ve always told me to empty my heart. That it’s inevitable that my father prioritizes Lucas. I understand. No matter how hard I try, the love I receive from my father is only the scraps left over after Lucas.”

When Seriths began to threaten the kingdom, all the nobles sent their children, except for one heir, to the Noctis Fortress. Families with only one son had no choice but to send him to the fortress, or pay a huge donation to avoid military service.

Edwin must have been relieved to have Maximón around. He didn’t have to send his only son to hell, and that must have been a huge relief.

On the day the nineteen-year-old Maximón prepared to go to the Noctis Fortress, Edwin had cried like a father sending his true son to war. But Maximón knew that the tears Edwin shed were not out of love, but out of guilt.

Still, it didn’t matter. If this was the only way he could feel Edwin’s fatherly love, even in this form... whenever he heard Edwin say, “My proud son,” he felt like he had become a real person.

“But now, I think I’ll let go of him in my heart. I’m getting tired, too.”

“…Are you serious?”

Taylor asked, her voice filled with doubt.

Maximón chuckled softly.

“Do you think I’d joke with you, Master?”

“…No, it’s just so sudden…”

Taylor knew how severe Maximón’s emotional deprivation was. Maximón had wanted to monopolize Edwin’s affection. He had no interest in the world, but he joined the fight at the Noctis Fortress for Edwin’s sake.

He was greedy. He couldn’t be satisfied with just half of Edwin’s affection. He always wanted complete love, the kind of love accompanied by deep generosity and forgiveness, to himself alone.

Maximón needed someone who would forgive and embrace him no matter how wrong he was, and Edwin was the perfect person for that. Maximón’s persistent efforts toward Edwin were like the struggles of a child desperately trying to be loved.

Taylor felt pity for Maximón. No matter how much love he poured out, he didn’t recognize it as love, and because of that, he couldn’t understand how wondrous and beautiful it was to love someone. It was tragic, yet he didn’t know how unfortunate it was.

She had believed that, as one grew older, they would naturally learn to cherish and love others, but Maximón was heading in the complete opposite direction. Taylor wondered if this was related to Mahilen. Mahilen was the last dragon guarding the northernmost part of the Astien Empire, where the Seriths had been sealed.

No one had ever seen Mahilen, but after Seriths had reemerged, Mahilen had completely disappeared. The church had later attempted to track him down, but with the state of the world as it was, they had failed.

Taylor understood that Maximón was not human. But what, then, was he?

Could he be a dragon like Mahilen? Or perhaps a hope left behind by Astrun for the future?

Taylor couldn’t guess his true nature. What was clear, however, was that without Maximón, the fortress’s defenses could not be maintained. Taylor’s life had drastically shortened with the reappearance of Seriths, and she would likely pass away before the end of winter.

Before that, Taylor wanted to be certain that Maximón would be a shining hope, not a catastrophe bringing misfortune to humanity. So when he said he would let go of his obsession with Edwin, she was genuinely happy, yet suspicion also filled her mind.

Or had he found someone to replace Edwin? Taylor’s gaze toward Maximón narrowed with doubt.

That couldn’t be.

Who in Noctis Fortress would be understanding enough to accept Maximón Elgort’s insane actions and selfish heart?

“How can we extend Najane’s life?”

Taylor’s face slowly paled.

Was Maximón concerned about Najane’s health because…?

“You’ve taken a liking to Najane, haven’t you, Mosh?”

At Taylor’s words, Maximón smiled faintly, as if not denying them.

“What are you planning to do with him?”

“Nothing.”

“You dare lie to me.”

“Please don’t misunderstand, Master. I simply intend to take care of him. Truly, that’s all.”

Taylor let out a small laugh. Maximón, who didn’t even know the value of life, saying he would cherish someone—it was the most ridiculous thing she’d heard recently.

But soon, she was facing Maximón, whose expression had turned serious. He wasn’t smiling anymore, as if to prove that what he had said was sincere, if she wished.

Taylor’s expression shifted from confusion to a more composed one. Had Maximón ever shown such interest in anyone besides Edwin? She should have sensed something odd when he first brought Najane, asking her to evaluate his potential.

Above all, she wasn’t sure if this would be beneficial for Najane. Maximón would surely make sure that no one other than himself would enter Najane’s world. He would harm the people Najane cherished without hesitation and, if necessary, wouldn’t hesitate to stage an accident to kill them. This was more like a thunderclap for Najane.

However, Taylor thought that if she could control Maximón’s unpredictable actions, even at the cost of Najane’s freedom and happiness, it would be a meaningful sacrifice.

Though it would be quite unfortunate for Najane, now his new protector, the peace and rest of Najane were not what was needed at Noctis Fortress. What was needed was Maximón Elgort’s emotional stability.

If, for the next decade or so, she could use Maximón as a knight of Noctis Fortress and, eventually, as a hero of the Kingdom of Bastronia, even if a new sword master did not arise after Taylor’s death, this place could maintain its current state for a long time.

Of course, all of this could only happen if Najane could endure Maximón’s maddening obsession, unpredictable whims, and sudden violence...

For that to happen, Najane had to live a long life.

Having made up her mind, Taylor smiled bitterly. She knew what she was doing to Najane, but for now, this was the best option.

“I’ll have to ask Archbishop Gwyneth to call a healer. It was too awkward to drag someone so young into the battlefield… but now that things have come to this, there’s no choice but to request their cooperation immediately.”

“Are you talking about the youngest sacred ability user?”

“Yes. There have been many discussions about the fact that she can’t control her sacred power well, so she might not be of much help in battle right now... But given the serious situation at the fortress, we have no choice but to ask for even the help of someone so young. I’ll make the request to the Archbishop. Until then, you...”

Taylor trailed off, closing her mouth. Maximón was wearing a delighted expression, like a child who had found a toy that wouldn’t break easily.

Taylor almost asked Maximón if he loved Najane, but then shook her head as if there was nothing more to say. Asking him such a question would be pointless.

“It’s nothing. You must be tired from fighting, so go rest. You’ve worked hard.”

Perhaps Maximón, being non-human, clung to eternal, unchanging feelings. At least as long as he was loved by someone, he wouldn’t have to doubt his own existence. But if Maximón was truly a dragon...

Lost in thought, Taylor watched Maximón’s retreating figure as he left the tent, wearing a puzzled expression. Were dragons really such insecure and selfish creatures?

With the reappearance of Seriths, all dragons had been wiped out except for Mahilen, but according to the scriptures left by Sylin, it was written: “Dragons, from the moment they are born until the moment they perish, are obsessed with only one thing. Beautiful things, romance, jewels, poetry, novels, songs, artworks, old trees, exotic animals, coral reefs in the sea, and so on... They are born into nature without reason, suddenly vanish, and then new ones are born somewhere. Some dragons live for thousands of years, while others live for only a week, but in the end, they vanish and become part of the magical force that sustains the world.”

According to the records, dragons were never supposed to be imperfect beings.

“...Ha, this is difficult,” Taylor clicked her tongue and looked down at the floor of the tent, where the morning sunlight had already started to seep in. It seemed the sun had risen. Outside the tent, soldiers who had survived another day were gossiping loudly.

As she listened to their voices, Taylor’s eyes began to close, unable to fight off her drowsiness. Suddenly, she missed Rachel.

If only Rachel hadn’t gotten sick, if only she hadn’t contracted that incurable disease, she might have been here with Maximón by now...