Betrayal Knight's Joyful Faith

Chapter 356

“…”The moment he opened his eyes, he met Arthur’s gaze as the latter leaned back in his chair.

He exhaled slowly. His paralyzed senses began to return one by one.

He was still Arendt von Eckhart.

“Are you awake?”

As he stared blankly, Arthur asked with a tired expression. Only then did Arendt realize he was lying on a bed in an inn.

After blinking a few times, his vision gradually became clearer. Arendt, who had been staring blankly, finally spoke.

“How long has it been?”

Arthur gave a short answer in a slightly hoarse voice.

“Three days.”

“…Unbelievable. Senior, you’ve been like this for three days straight?”

“Yeah, you little shit.”

Arthur replied in a slightly choked voice.

Having been lying there for a while, Arendt sluggishly sat up. His body had no strength left.

As he was sweeping back his hair that was flowing down messily, he realized that there were several scars engraved on the back of his hand that he couldn’t remember.

And then he noticed that the Frosty Touch had also been taken off and was lying on the shelf next to the bed.

Arendt, who had been staring blankly at the nail marks left on his pale wrist, opened his mouth.

“Senior.”

“What.”

A dry voice replied with a tone disguised as brusqueness.

“I’m hungry.”

Arthur looked a little surprised at the somewhat unexpected words. But that only lasted for a moment, and instead of asking any more questions, Arthur just stood up.

“Let’s go eat. Can you get up by yourself?”

“I don’t think I can get up.”

“Then take it.”

Arthur held out his hand with a sullen face.

Arendt took Arthur’s hand without saying a word and lifted himself up.

As soon as his feet touched the floor, he felt a slight dizziness along with an overwhelming sense of reality.

He felt like he was floating, but at the same time, his body felt heavy like water-soaked cotton.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not okay.”

To Arthur’s question, he responded with the reply that had now become second nature.

Rather, Arthur seemed to feel a little relieved by those words.

It was already quite late, so the restaurant in the inn was completely quiet. Arendt sat down at the table that Arthur led him to, absentmindedly listening to the sound of the old stew bubbling away.

Arthur shouted into the restaurant.

“Could you prepare a light meal for us here?”

“Hm? Yes, please wait a moment.”

Not long after a dazed reply came back, a sleepy-looking attendant emerged from the kitchen, who clearly just got out of bed, and served them bread and stew with a half-awake expression.

Arthur stopped the attendant who was about to leave.

“Bring some alcohol too.”

After a while, the attendant handed them a bottle of liquor and two glasses and went back into the kitchen, seemingly trying to catch up on some sleep.

Arendt scolded him bluntly.

“What kind of alcohol are you drinking at this late hour?”

“You don’t drink at night, so do you drink during the day?”

Arthur responded curtly and placed a glass in front of Arendt as well.

Arendt watched him silently as he scooped up some stew and put it in his mouth. Arthur filled two glasses with alcohol and downed his share in one go.

Arthur, who had emptied his glass in the blink of an eye, filled it again and drank it in one gulp this time too.

Arendt looked tired as he watched his senior repeat that over and over again.

“That was real smart of you. If you have any complaints, just say them. Why are you drinking so much?”

“Shut up, you bastard. Mind your own business.”

Arthur, snapping irritably, didn’t put down his glass until the bottle was nearly empty. By then, Arendt had only managed to eat about half of his stew, picking at it without much appetite.

After a long silence with his lips shut tightly, Arthur finally spoke.

“Hey.”

“What.”

“What did you mean when you said you heard the voice of the Evil God?”

Arthur’s lowered head brought the question Arendt had more or less expected. Arendt tore off a piece of bread with his hand and replied nonchalantly.

“If you ask me that, I’m not really sure how to answer. It’s just literal.”

“The reason Nikephoros couldn’t kill you was…”

Arthur paused for a moment.

“Was it because of the Evil God, not because of God Luce?”

“It was probably both.”

As soon as he gave a short reply, the next question came flying in.

“Why didn’t you tell the captain?”

“Could I have told him?”

That alone seemed sufficient, as Arthur remained silent for quite some time. Arendt, too, didn’t feel the need to say more. He simply focused on eating the bland stew and bread.

“…This is really driving me crazy.”

After a long time, Arthur slowly rubbed his face.

“I’d rather say you went crazy from overwork.”

“Isn’t it okay if you just think of it that way?”

Putting his spoon down in the empty stew bowl, Arendt replied.

“The apprentice knight who received the grace of God Luce is now going around saying that he heard the voice of the Evil God. Isn’t it stranger to readily believe him?”

“Are you joking right now?”

When Arthur glanced up and glanced at him, Arendt shrugged.

“I’m not joking.”

“…Let’s stop talking.”

Arthur let out a deep sigh and poured all the remaining liquor into his glass. Perhaps because he drank too quickly while exhausted, his ears were already flushed red.

This time, Arendt asked a question.

“Then do you believe this nonsense?”

“Things have gotten to this point, so if I don’t believe you, then what?”

Arthur held the glass tightly and poured the last of it into his mouth.

A deep silence flowed between the two.

Arendt looked at Arthur with sunken eyes.

Somehow he felt like he knew what Arthur was thinking.

Hearing the voice of God was impossible even for the High Priest.

But for a mere apprentice knight to say something like that, Arthur could not help but feel embarrassed.

Even though he was filled with hostility toward the gods right now, it was a situation where he might eventually surrender and turn back to them.

“…Hey.”

After a long pause, Arthur spoke up with a troubled voice.

“Do you know what I’m most afraid of right now?”

Arthur gripped his empty glass tightly.

“You. You’re the scariest.”

“…”

Arendt didn’t bother to answer.

Even dragons were treated as a different species, so it was natural for Arthur to say that.

But Arthur’s words did not end there.

“I’m terrified that you might just go off somewhere and die.”

Arendt froze in place.

“You said you didn’t want to die a dog’s death. You said you didn’t want to die a dog’s death, so you went through all this trouble. You said you couldn’t trust other people, so you did it on your own.”

Arthur, who hadn’t noticed it yet, continued speaking slowly.

“Don’t lie, you bastard. You act like you want to die more than anyone else.”

A deep resentment was evident in his voice, which contained all sorts of emotions.

“Whether you heard the voice of a god or whatever, fine. You’re such an unusual bastard, so I can accept that. Honestly, though, it’s pretty damn baffling.”

Arthur began to talk nonsense, perhaps because he was quickly getting drunk.

“No matter who you fight with, where you are, or what you do, it doesn’t matter. No matter what happens, I’ll be on your side. Of course, I’ll be a bit angry, but… you’re just that kind of person.”

Arthur struggled to speak, as if he was venting long-held feelings.

“So just don’t go and die on me. You’re really going to end up dead if you keep this up. I don’t want to see your dead body or anything.”

“…”

Arendt just stared at Arthur in surprise.

It felt like he’d been hit in the head with a hammer.

Just as Arendt was about to respond, he clamped his mouth shut again, then slowly asked.

“…You say it’s okay no matter what I do? Do you know what I’m going to do?”

“You always say that: about betraying us and running off if things go south.”

Arthur raised his head and glared at Arendt fiercely.

“Who do you take us for? How many people do you think would actually believe you if you said that now?”

“…”

Instead of answering, Arendt picked up the glass in front of him and took a sip.

It was unusually bitter.

Arthur muttered, burying his head on the table again.

“Stop saying it’s not okay every time, and at least tell me if there’s a problem, you fucking bastard… how long have you been hiding it all by yourself? It’s been a long time since Rebecca’s group was defeated.”

“…”

His crushed voice sounded painfully sorrowful.

Arendt looked at Arthur with complicated eyes.

Arthur cared more about whether his junior’s heart was quietly rotting away without him knowing than about divine revelations or life-or-death battles.

‘…What am I supposed to do about this?’

He swallowed the sigh that welled up in his throat along with the tasteless alcohol.

Silence settled over the worn-out table.

The crackling of firewood occasionally broke the silence, and from one corner of the kitchen, the sound of a bland stew simmering could be heard.

“…”

The candles lit for the two people having a late dinner swayed and flickered in the breeze streaming in through the loosely shut window.

Taking in every detail with his senses, his mind somehow began to quietly calm.

He couldn’t keep pretending any longer, especially in front of someone who genuinely cared and felt sorry for him.

“…I’m okay. Really.”

Arthur raised his head in surprise at the tone that was quite different from usual.

Arendt came into view, lazily resting his chin on his hand, scarred fingers gripping the glass.

Arthur blinked, his mind blanking.

The person in front of him was clearly Arendt, but at the same time, he felt somewhat different from the ‘Arendt von Eckhart’ he knew.

“It’s true that I’m a piece of shit in many ways, but…”

The dim light illuminating the restaurant quietly settled on the apprentice knight’s silver-white hair and golden eyes.

“I’m not the kind of shameless bastard who would pretend not to know even though you did all this for me.”

Arendt poured the remaining alcohol into his mouth in one go and put his glass down with a thud.

“So stop feeling sorry for me. I’m not going to die.”

As if he had encountered an illusion, Arthur forgot his childish babbling and looked at Arendt with blank eyes.

Arendt lowered his head and spoke slowly, as if engraving each word.

“…I’m truly fine. I think I’m going to be okay now. Probably.”

The fragments Chernion spoke of was the world of the “Blue Knights of the Holy Sword”, where the rebellion almost succeeded.

There lay Laius’ desperate battles, countless deaths that had now become forgotten, and the true Arendt von Eckhart.

Chernion had been collecting the worlds that had been lost to Luce’s hands, and it seemed like he had just finished that work.

‘So he tried to put them back in their original places…’

There was only one obstacle, and that was the Arendt of the present.

Because Arendt, who was not originally supposed to be here, was wedged in and firmly established, Chernion was unable to use the fragments he had painstakingly collected.

It would have been impossible to force him away, since it was a body protected by God Luce.

‘So that’s why he wanted to torment me to death so that he could somehow send me back to where I was.’

Arendt fiddled with his empty glass.

Perhaps, as Chernion said, that would be the fastest way to become comfortable. It would also free him from the bondage of his promise with Luce.

But that couldn’t be done.

Though he refused to admit it even in death, there were far too many lingering presences here.

‘It’s time to stop this childish escapism.’

He could no longer live as Lee Soo-hyun. But he couldn’t become a complete Arendt either.

This place wasn’t a stage, it was a bloodstained world.

Within that world, Arendt had to continue his act alone, destined to live on as an actor.

He had to bear the responsibility of a name stolen from a traitor…

Because only then could the current world continue to exist.

Since he had earned Chernion’s grudge, his insomnia wouldn’t get any better.

He would occasionally have seizures, and at times he would feel a terrible sense of loss and be tormented by a sense of alienation that made him feel like he was going crazy.

But it was okay.

‘It was all a result of my choices.’

Above all, no matter how much he tried to keep his distance, there were persistent people who stubbornly followed and annoyed him…

It seemed like the trashy life here wouldn’t be so bad.

“So, senior, please don’t die either.”

Arendt said calmly.

“Tell the others the same. If even one person dies, my fight will be meaningless.”

Though there was no trace of emotion in his voice, Arthur instinctively sensed the truth behind the words.

That was definitely a sincerity that Arendt had never shown before.

“…Of course, damn it.”

Arthur forced a smile, his face distorted.

“Don’t worry, I won’t die because of you. I have to survive somehow to keep giving you a hard time, so why the hell would I die?”

“Hard time? Yeah, right. Just try it if you can. I’ll be glad if you don’t end up whining like a baby.”

Arendt leaned back in his chair with a chuckle.

Seeing his smiling face, Arthur was able to relax a little.

Arthur let out a deep sigh and scratched his head in belated embarrassment.

“From the way you speak, it seems like you’re okay now. You’re such a shameless bastard.”

“I think I said it clearly earlier. I’m not okay…”

Just when the familiar argument was about to begin.

Both of them froze simultaneously.

The communication device tucked inside Arthur’s coat began to vibrate softly, emitting a faint light.