The food at the temple was delicious.
“You’re quite the cook,” Yuri remarked.
The Black Knight sitting beside her replied, “I made it myself.”
When he ate, he removed the lower part of his mask. It was a finely crafted mechanism designed for easy detachment.
Yuri stole a glance at his profile and asked, “Do you often do volunteer work, Black Knight?”
“Of course.”
Yuri was polite with the Ten Strong.
“I’ve come to realize that showing God’s love is the highest form of happiness.”
“I see.”
“I’d heard the third prince of Briol was brave, but I didn’t know he was so devout.”
“Going through the battlefield changed my perspective.”
Yuri placed her hand over her heart and smiled calmly.
Jared, sitting across from her, choked on his food, but Yuri ignored him and continued.
“You must understand, having been through it yourself—the chaos of life and death—how fragile humans really are.”
“That’s true.”
“At first, I despaired. But through that, I came to understand what truly profound and noble purpose means.”
Yuri bowed her head toward the cross placed in the center of the table, her expression soft and serene.
The Black Knight let out a deep sigh of admiration.
“Truly, you speak wisely.”
As Yuri bowed in respect to the cross, she recalled what little was known about the Black Knight.
Even in her past life, almost nothing about him had been revealed.
He was known only as a terrifying figure clad in black armor and a black mask, destroying enemies who opposed the empire.
He was loyal solely to the emperor, and only the emperor knew his real name.
Hence, he was called the Black Knight.
“But I’m still lacking. Bearing the weight of worldly burdens on my shoulders is difficult, so I do what I can, when I can.”
His words were calculated.
After all, the Black Knight was ultimately the emperor’s knight. It was a stretch to say he followed God’s will completely.
As expected, the Black Knight nodded in strong agreement.
“You and I are alike, Yuri Briol. We’re of the same kind. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m honored.”
“I am also His Majesty’s knight. As a knight, I cannot abandon my duties. So I do what little I can.”
“I respect that.”
Why was the Black Knight so innocent?
Yuri found herself glancing at Vlad, who smiled faintly.
“Surely, you are one of God’s most cherished flock.”
“No, I’m still not enough. I must work harder.”
A faint smile appeared at the corner of the Black Knight’s lips.
She had expected a rugged man, but his jaw was surprisingly slender, and his lips delicate. If he removed his mask, he might look like a refined young man, perhaps like Laurent.
Seizing the moment, Yuri made a suggestion.
“How about joining us on this campaign, Black Knight?”
“Campaign?”
“We’re trying to bring those addicted to drugs into the light, guiding them to the temple’s rehabilitation clinic.”
“An excellent idea. I’ve heard rumors of drugs spreading through the empire. Truly a tragedy.”
The Black Knight sighed.
“But I cannot leave without His Majesty’s permission.”
“I thought I might ask on your behalf…”
“Sorry.”
A polite refusal.
“Of course, His Majesty would not deny my request. But deep down, he would feel uneasy. I don’t want to trouble such a kind man.”
“Ah, I see…”
Yuri had never met the emperor in her past life.
She had only fought against the empire’s armies as they surged like a tide toward Briol.
Before that, it was the same—how could she have faced her girlfriend’s father with peace of mind?
So she knew little about the emperor.
There were countless rumors, and even Ekaterina avoided mentioning her father, so his true nature remained a mystery.
Yet the Black Knight said he was kind.
Yuri was confused.
“You’ll meet him soon. Then you’ll understand what kind of man he is.”
The Black Knight smiled, a gentle curve at his mouth.
“Yes, I look forward to it.”
To Yuri, the emperor was the villain who had ruined Briol, but she played along for now.
“In any case, Yuri Briol, I’m very glad to have met you. I hope we can talk again sometime.”
Saying this, the Black Knight clasped his hands toward the cross.
“This too must be God’s guidance.”
“That’s right.”
Yuri also folded her hands, and Vlad immediately followed suit.
Laurent and Jared, who had been eating absentmindedly, awkwardly joined in.
“Hey, Gote.”
After finishing her meal, Yuri went to find Gote before the interview.
He was lying on his bed reading a book, but when Yuri appeared, he startled, sitting up and backing away.
“Why so surprised?”
“Wow, Your Highness…”
“Long time no see. Sober this time. Five years? Six now?”
Time had passed since the allied forces’ campaign.
“Well…”
“You sold me out while high on drugs?”
“No, I didn’t mean that.”
“Don’t lie.”
“There’s just a friend who wants to get closer to you…”
“You little…”
Yuri grabbed Gote by the scruff of his neck, making him flinch.
The Gote of her childhood hadn’t been intimidated by her, but now, he showed none of that old spirit.
Yuri sized him up.
His skills weren’t bad, but compared to people like Laurent or Jared around him, he was lacking.
Against Simon or Guinness, he might put up a good fight.
“What have you been doing all this time?”
Yuri clicked her tongue. He seemed even more lacking than the Gote from her past life.
Gote blushed and bit his lip, clearly ashamed.
“I know studying abroad was tough, but no means no.”
“Yes.”
“First, let’s get that filthy drug out of your system.”
Yuri patted his back.
Since they’d be working together, she needed to boost his morale.
“We’re starting over.”
“Huh…?”
“You’re still young. You have decent skills. There’s no need to let drugs ruin you further.”
“But everyone will point fingers at me. They’ll call me a junkie. The heir of the Barkvar family addicted to drugs, disgracing Briol and the family name—I just can’t accept that…”
“Idiot!”
Yuri snapped.
“How dare you speak of honor with such thoughts? If you weren’t a patient, I’d have hit you.”
“Well…”
“Do you even know what honor is?”
She glanced behind her.
Vlad, the reporters, the painter, and the Black Knight were all standing there. Behind them, the temple priests watched anxiously.
Yuri gripped Gote’s collar and spoke with renewed determination.
“My friend, Gote.”
“Huh? We’re friends…?”
“Honor isn’t just about never falling.”
Yuri quoted a saying she’d heard somewhere during her wanderings in her past life.
“True honor is rising again after you fall.”
“Your Highness…”
“And likewise, falling is never dishonorable.”
Yuri helped Gote to his feet and patted his back with a smile.
“Giving up while still down—that’s the real disgrace. A knight of Briol would never act that way. Understand?”
“Yes…”
Gote nodded, a mix of awkwardness and genuine emotion on his face.
Yuri put an arm around his shoulder and turned to the others.
“Everyone, Gote will rise again.”
The painter standing next to Vlad quickly began sketching.
A spark of inspiration flickered in his eyes. His hands moved with the urgency of capturing this moment.
Yuri stood still for a moment, letting him work.
The patient’s room had a large window, and sunlight streamed in.
The Black Knight watching the scene applauded.
“Yuri Briol, you are truly a magnificent knight. It’s as if a halo of sainthood shines around you.”
“Oh…”
“Indeed…”
Those around him nodded in agreement.
Yuri bowed humbly, then looked at Vlad.
“Well then, shall we get to work? For all those suffering from drugs.”
Back at the Briol palace, now that Yuri had left, peaceful days settled in.
With the third prince, who always stirred up trouble, gone, the palace felt almost empty and quiet.
But one thing had changed.
Fiore, who had been holed up in the underground training grounds and rarely seen, had recently started venturing outside.
And by his side stood an Eastern man with deep brown hair.
“So, the mana concentration is insufficient.”
“That’s right, Great Hero.”
“But I worry it might burst if suppressed any further…”
“Recognizing that limit is the most important part. It’s an art, you might say.”
“Impressive, Great Moyongchan.”
“I’m no match for Great Fiore.”
They complimented each other and bowed in the Eastern style.
This was a courtesy Moyongchan had taught them, and it had recently become popular in the palace because of them.
“By now, that Yuri must be making waves in the empire.”
“Hopefully without causing too much trouble…”
“He’s smart. He won’t make mistakes.”
“Looks like Moyongchan trusts Yuri more than I do.”
“We met on the battlefield. A person’s true nature shows in life-or-death moments. Ha ha ha…”
Moyongchan shared words with Fiore he wouldn’t say in front of Yuri.
“He’s destined for greatness.”
Watching Fiore’s gentle smile, Moyongchan smiled warmly.
Meeting Fiore Briol was one of the best things he’d done since coming to the Western lands.
He possessed a mastery of the sword deeper than anyone he knew.
Wasn’t this the kind of feeling that must have passed between the old Paecheon swordsmen and the grandmaster of the Cheongseong faction when they shared their insights?
“Shall we enter the tournament?”
“I’m not sure. He’s unpredictable…”
As they exchanged such words, a servant approached Fiore.
“Your Majesty, Count Johannes has come requesting an audience.”
“Tousen?”
Tousen Barkbar was the count who ruled over Johannes, and also the father of Gott Barkbar. Aside from his obsession with white clothing, he was a fine knight.
“Shall I send for him?”
“Yes. It’s been a while since we walked together. Would that be all right, Great Hero Moyongchan?”
“That’s fine.”
Soon, Barkbar came running, out of breath.
Fiore tilted his head in surprise; Barkbar was usually calm and composed.
“What’s the matter?”
“Your Majesty.”
Tousen suppressed his heavy breathing and bowed to Fiore. Then, showing respect, he greeted Moyongchan, a guest of Briol and one of the Ten Strong.
“A package has arrived from the Empire.”
“What is it?”
“A magazine published just yesterday. The Empire’s own postman delivered it personally.”
“A magazine…”
It was a popular item from the relatively advanced Empire.
But the moment Fiore saw the cover, he was speechless. Moyongchan, standing beside him, was equally stunned, his mouth agape.
The cover featured a painting by an incredibly skilled artist.
And the models were unmistakable.
Two young men bathed in sunlight streaming through the window, their shoulders draped around each other, smiling warmly.
One had sleek black hair and a striking appearance; the other wore a patient’s gown, looking gaunt, but his eyes shone with unwavering resolve.
They looked almost sacred, like a holy image hung in a temple.
The impression of the cover was so overwhelming that Fiore and Moyongchan only belatedly noticed the words written beneath it.
“Prince of Briol, Hero of the Allied Forces, Honorable Knight.”
“And a devout believer. Yuri Briol.”
“His words on true honor and the path a knight must walk.”
“Fallen Gott Barkbar asks his longtime friend about courage.”
“A message of hope for those suffering from addiction.”
“A calm consolation to the younger generation:
‘It’s okay to fall. But you must rise.’”
“An in-depth interview with Yuri Briol, including a full-color photo supplement.”
“Subscriptions welcome.”
For a long moment, neither of them could find the words to speak.