SOTBW - 168

“...What?”

Najane asked again, confused. Their expression showed they didn’t understand what they had just heard.

The blood-red eyes slowly wavered. Gwyneth briefly lowered his gaze. While he was trying to help Najane, Gwyneth also felt guilty about this situation. Maximón, Taylor, and even Gwyneth... perhaps Belshua as well, all had some responsibility in this issue.

Maximón and Taylor knew that Najane’s life would be in danger the more they used the sword aura, but for their own reasons (probably Taylor for the greater good), they kept the truth silent. Gwyneth, needing Najane, followed Taylor’s will and remained silent, and Belshua, aware of Najane’s condition, acted as a bystander.

They all probably expected something like this to happen eventually. But Najane’s body was much weaker than they had anticipated.

Gwyneth hadn’t expected such a serious issue to occur so soon. However, this wasn’t something he could just excuse by claiming ignorance.

Najane was dying without pain.

It was impossible to guess how many times the spell placed on their back had been triggered. Gwyneth continued explaining without looking Najane in the eye.

“This is just my hypothesis, but… it’s probably closer to the truth. Right now, your body has another spell, not just the curse. I didn’t realize it until recently, but on your back... there’s a complex spell that I can’t fully understand with my current level. And that’s…”

Gwyneth trailed off and looked at Najane.

Najane’s face was full of confusion.

“That spell… seems to have been preserving your body while eating away at your life force.”

“...I don’t really understand what you’re saying. Another spell? On my body?”

Najane asked in disbelief. They understood everything Gwyneth said, but, like a fool, kept asking again.

It felt like hearing a bad joke. They were beyond just feeling uncomfortable; they were about to get angry.

But Najane couldn’t bring themselves to get angry. Gwyneth’s expression was more serious and somber than ever. Everything they had heard was the truth. The spell that healed their body in exchange for their life force, and the fact that they wouldn’t live much longer...

Najane’s lips, which had opened in shock, trembled faintly. Gwyneth couldn’t bring himself to meet their gaze and lowered his head.

“I don’t know who engraved it. It could have been the person who cast the curse, or it might have been someone else’s doing.”

Najane didn’t respond.

They just pressed their palm to their mouth, desperately denying what they had just heard.

“You must have known your body wasn’t suited for using the sword aura. You must have known it lacked power, endurance, and manifestation in every way.”

Najane squeezed their eyes shut as tears welled up. How could they not know that?

Even though Najane was able to manifest the sword aura with Mikael’s help, Nellis never taught them how to use a sword. At first, they thought it was because of a lack of skill.

But the more they wielded the sword aura, the more they felt the limits. It wasn’t about effort; it was a physical limitation. Najane’s sword aura was vague, and they had a vague sense that it was due to their own body.

Nellis left Najane and found a fiancé for her second daughter, Luna. Najane never questioned their mother. They knew Luna wasn’t getting married first because she was prettier.

“Miss Emaydis is already seventeen... but she hasn’t had her period. We consulted the court physician, but they couldn’t find any reason... How are we supposed to find a fiancé at this rate?”

“She’s been sick since she was little. It’s not surprising. But if news like this gets out, it won’t be good, so we’ll quietly get Luna married off first.”

Najane had naturally realized that they couldn’t wield the perfect sword aura, which Nellis had praised so highly. It was due to both their talent and their physical issues.

At first, they were sad, but they accepted reality. They thought that as long as they could protect the people around them, it didn’t matter if they weren’t perfect. They had compromised with themselves.

But they never expected this. To die from using the sword aura too much. It was something they had never imagined.

Najane wasn’t a greedy person, but if they were to find Luna, they hoped to live good days in a house of a reasonable size.

Najane had dreamed of raising a well-trained dog and horse, saving money, marrying Luna off to a man she liked... The war with the Seriths could end at any time, but as long as they had the strength, they wanted to protect as many people as possible... alongside Maximón...

A large tear dropped from Najane’s eye. They couldn’t tell where things had gone wrong. Najane tried to find the problem within themselves. They thought that if they could figure out what they had done wrong, their heavy heart might feel lighter.

But no matter how much they thought about it, they couldn’t find anything they had done wrong.

Najane, hiding their face, swallowed a sob. Gwyneth, not knowing what to do, handed Najane a handkerchief.

“...Every time you used the sword aura, your body was severely damaged, but you probably never noticed. The spell on your back would convert your life force into spiritual power to heal your body.”

“What’s the point of using life force to heal the body?”

Najane shouted bitterly.

Gwyneth nodded, lowering his gaze.

“I agree with you. The person who engraved that spell… well, it’s just my guess, but perhaps... they wanted you to die quickly.”

“Then, every time I use the sword aura...”

“Your life span was shortened...”

Gwyneth’s quiet response made Najane despair. In this moment, they missed Maximón more than ever. Not knowing who to be angry at, sorrow and resentment swirled in their chest.

Najane clutched their clothes, feeling as though their heart was burning with pain. Tears fell like rain onto the sheets below.

With a face full of guilt, Gwyneth tightly held Najane’s hand.

“You need to put the sword down now, Najane.”

His kind but deeply realistic words fell on Najane’s heart like hail, causing intense pain. Najane looked at Gwyneth with an expression that refused to accept what he was saying.

During their time as a knight of Romsoa, Najane had often been anxious, but on the other hand, they had been happy thanks to the good people around them. It had been a great fortune to be able to protect someone with their sword.

They wanted to fight alongside Maximón.

They wanted to stay by his side, together, for a long time.

Najane remembered Maximón’s face and broke down in tears. As they thought death was drawing near, the image of Maximón being left alone filled them with hopeless despair. Thinking about him, the one who had once been abandoned and had loved them so deeply, made them cry uncontrollably.

Najane regretted not telling Maximón that they loved him. If they had known they would die so prematurely, they would have kept those words to themselves. They should have distanced themselves so that Maximón could love someone else...

Hot, harsh regret stabbed into Najane’s heart like a knife.

The image of Luna, whom they would never reunite with, flickered in front of their eyes. Like someone who could do nothing but cry, Najane wept out loud.

They couldn’t understand why this had happened. The fear of the death that was approaching them, the guilt of leaving their loved ones behind, caused tears to flow endlessly.

“...Does Maximón know about this?”

“He knows that your condition is serious. But Najane, Maximón...”

Maximón knew this would happen to you.

Gwyneth almost said it but swallowed the words with difficulty. He was afraid that Najane might completely collapse if they heard that.

More than anything, Maximón was someone Najane could rely on without hesitation. Gwyneth, feeling guilty, clasped his hands together. He hesitated over whether to tell Najane that others knew about their condition, but in the end, he remained silent.

Gwyneth, rubbing his forehead with his palm, let out a sigh full of guilt. Then, as Najane continued to cry, they gently reached out and took Gwyneth’s hand. There was comfort in that gesture.

Flustered, Gwyneth looked at Najane.

“I’m okay, Your Grace.”

“...Najane.”

“...I have to accept it. There’s nothing I can do. Crying won’t change anything. Right now, I’m very confused... but...”

Najane trailed off, and tears flowed down their face once more.

Najane, with their throat choked with tears, forced a smile.

“...If I don’t use the sword aura, will I live a little longer, as Your Grace said?”

“...I can’t make any promises about that. But if Boris is by your side... perhaps things might get a little better.”

Najane blinked at the mention of the boy’s name, which they had just heard earlier.

“Boris is a holy power user, just like me. At a young age, he became a holy power user, and his spiritual power is substantial, so he can heal most illnesses or injuries. It’s unlikely he can change your condition drastically, but... it’s better than doing nothing.”

Najane thought of Boris’s round, cute face and then recalled the strange words he had said.

The words he had been asked to deliver. It almost seemed like an evaluation of Najane’s sword aura. In the Romsoa Knight Order, there wasn’t anyone who would make such an assessment—except for Taylor Elderkerth...

“And I have one more piece of news to deliver to you.”

At Gwyneth’s words, Najane, who had been lost in thought, flinched.

“Is it something more serious than the fact that I’m about to die?”

“It’s not quite that serious, but... it’s close.”

Najane blinked quickly, their body tense with nerves.

Gwyneth hesitated for a moment, thinking about how to deliver the news, and then, with a long sigh, he carefully spoke.

“Maximón has stripped you of your knight title. Right now... you’re no longer a knight of Romsoa.”

________________________________________

Jacob glanced back at the shack he was standing in front of. The shack was a crude chapel built by soldiers who had strong faith in the Holy Church.

There was no priest to officiate the mass inside, but occasionally, soldiers who had been ordered to stay in the barracks for some reason would gather here to pray to Sylin.

Inside the shack, the only thing resembling religious items was a cross made from boxes used to carry supplies, but the soldiers treated it like a proper chapel, and there was a strange reverence in the air.

Jacob was quite surprised that Maximón knew about the existence of this building. Maximón was an unbeliever. While others might not know this fact, anyone close to him would quickly realize that he didn’t believe in God.

So, Jacob couldn’t believe that Maximón had come to this shabby shack to pray. Whether he was truly praying inside, Jacob didn’t know, but he did know why Maximón had come here.

For Najane.

It was for Najane, and only for Najane.