Chapter 28
Just moments ago, Karl had been standing at the pedestal, gripping the sword. Now, he was sprinting across the desert, arrows flying in from all directions. Beside him, someone familiar was running too.
‘A dream? An illusion?’
Karl realized that his consciousness had slipped into the past. He was viewing everything from within his younger self’s body.
“…Baker? Charlie? Kirk?”
After running a long while and narrowly shaking off their pursuers, Rachel spoke as she looked back at their team, now halved in number.
“They haven’t given up. We’re running out of time, Captain.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Rachel gritted her teeth and yanked her reins.
“Kid, we owe you our lives.”
Wrapping the slash across her abdomen, Rachel looked toward Karl.
The young Karl didn’t respond. He only stared blankly up at the moon and stars in the sky, silently recalling the faces of his fallen comrades who had just been running beside him.
“You crying?”
“….”
…Crying?
Only when Rachel spoke did young Karl slowly raise a hand to his eyes. Warm tears were flowing. It was the first time since arriving in this world that he’d lost control of his emotions.
“Listen carefully. Those who die, die. But the ones left behind… they have to live.”
Rachel ruffled his hair, then opened one of two canteens and brought it to her lips.
“Want a sip?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Karl took the canteen and drank deeply. The cheap, harsh liquor scorched his throat as it went down.
“Not bad. Doesn’t seem like your first time drinking.”
Even in the face of her sharp remark, Karl silently took another gulp.
“Hey! Were you planning to drink it all?! Give it back!”
Rachel yanked the canteen away, and Karl clicked his tongue. After that brief rest, the team began moving again.
They acted unaffected, but each step was filled with the weight of the comrades they had left behind.
“Captain…”
“You run.”
“I’m not going.”
“Then at least you survive. We’re not all going to make it out. At the very least, if the one who lived the shortest gets out alive, we can find some comfort in that.”
Rachel smiled—then wept.
“After everyone’s gone, how could I possibly go on sane?”
“Shut up! Just run already!”
As Rachel shouted, enemies began swarming from all directions. There was no time for farewells.
“Everyone but the kid—hold them off! Kid! Get out of here! Stay alive!”
She shouted at Karl as she charged toward the enemy.
Her crescent blade glinted under the moonlight as she slashed through the desert night, blood splashing in all directions. That moment was perfectly identical to the memory buried deep in Karl’s mind.
“…No.”
Karl muttered quietly. Even if this was all just an illusion, he had no intention of running.
At that moment, Karl's horse surged forward, charging into the enemy ranks.
No longer a passive observer, Karl took control of his younger body and pushed his consciousness to the forefront.
One. Two. Three.
Karl cut down the enemies from within the body of his younger self.
Time became untrackable. When he finally regained awareness, all his comrades had fallen around him.
Only Rachel remained, still on her feet but staggering from heavy blood loss, her sword barely supporting her upright.
“I told you to go… Damn brat never listens…”
She sighed deeply, staring at the few remaining enemies. As if cued by her breath, the last of them charged.
Karl blocked a descending blade, simultaneously driving his sword toward the enemy’s heart.
Had he been in his adult body, it would’ve been easy. But in this young frame, every move was difficult.
Though he lacked the strength to hold the sword, Karl drew it again and slashed at the next enemy’s ankle.
“Ugh…!”
Rachel grunted nearby. Though she had felled one attacker, another had slipped behind and pierced her side with a blade. Even then, she spun her sword behind her and ran it through the enemy’s throat.
Thud.
As someone collapsed, silence fell over the desert.
“Kid…”
“….”
Karl dropped to the ground beside Rachel, who was now seated with a sword embedded in her side.
“I knew you couldn’t save me… This isn’t real, after all.”
Heh.
Even as blood poured from her, she smiled. She smiled, even as she died.
“You’re… a memory I didn’t want to recall.”
“So? You wanna forget me?”
“….”
Even as her blood soaked the sand, she laughed as though refreshed.
He had become a mercenary out of desperation, fought in wars for money, and taken on missions under pressure.
“Those who die, die. Those who live… they must live. Freely. For the ones we lost. Walk your own path, without being swayed by anyone. Got it, Karl?”
Moments later, Rachel breathed her last, lying on the desert floor. Karl sat silently beside her, looking at her lifeless body.
“I’ll live. For all of you. Without being swayed. As freely as I can.”
Karl spoke quietly.
At that moment, the corpses scattered around the desert began to dissolve like sand.
Kirk, Baker—they all vanished. The enemies disappeared. Finally, Rachel faded too.
Once everyone had disintegrated into white particles, Karl found himself once more inside the cave. His hand still gripped the sword.
[You will be granted the Fate: Legendary Knight.]
The system message reappeared.
“No.”
Karl let go of the sword and turned without hesitation. Whether it was a system or something else, he would not be manipulated.
[You cannot reject a granted fate.]
Ignoring the floating message, Karl walked silently toward the exit. The path wasn't blocked—the distant light of the entrance was still visible.
Then, a crushing weight bore down on him. As if something refused to let him leave. Karl pressed forward slowly, dragging his body like it weighed a thousand pounds.
One step. Then another.
Each step left deep imprints in the floor. Karl clenched his teeth. The pressure intensified, but he pushed onward.
Blood trickled from his nose. Circulating every ounce of energy in his body, Karl resisted the crushing force. A freezing chill surged in like a snowstorm, lashing at him alongside the pressure.
Bitter cold and relentless wind slammed into him. His body froze, and blood kept flowing—but Karl neither turned back nor stopped.
Even now, he couldn't understand why he had ended up in this world. He had never been a serious gamer.
He only wanted to survive, but his promotions kept falling through. Then his parents died. As if waiting for that moment, his company fired him under false accusations.
The stocks he had invested in collapsed.
The world had cornered him completely.
And then, one day, a package arrived. Inside was an old, out-of-place game CD.
That same day, Karl was dropped into this world.
Crunch…
His bones cracked. The pressure was too great—his body reaching its limit.
But Karl realized the cave exit was near.
[If you leave, the fate Legendary Knight will not be granted.]
It felt as if the system was throwing a tantrum.
Karl smiled.
“I don’t need it.”
With that emotionless reply, he stepped out of the cave.
At that moment, a new message appeared before his eyes.
[You have rejected the granted fate. A hidden fate, Free Knight, is now granted.]
The system screen went berserk, messages flashing too fast to read. Pain surged through Karl’s entire body—as if his very being was being rewritten.
“Urgh…!”
He had taken serious injuries before, but nothing like this. Overwhelmed, Karl collapsed. As the agony surged through him, his body began to shift and reassemble.
Eventually, even he lost consciousness from the endless torment.
[Bound item ownership of Nigelling is transferred. The user has rejected becoming a Legendary Knight. Nigelling’s name is changed to Léctĭo (choice).]
As Karl lay unconscious, the final message faded from view. His body twitched and shifted endlessly—swelling and shrinking—until finally, all movement ceased.
Karl lay still.
***
“Will he make it out alive?”
Three days had passed since Karl entered the cave. Philip had tried several times to enter after growing concerned—but as before, an invisible wall blocked him.
Over that time, many had gathered in the village with Philip.
“Alive or dead, does it really matter? This is our village’s problem to solve.”
Muller spoke coldly, clearly displeased with Karl entering the cave.
“Sounds like you’re hoping he fails.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I want this damn curse broken more than anyone—more than even you, brother.”
“Master, if he really is the knight foretold in the legend and emerges with the sword… what do you plan to do?”
Everyone turned toward Duke, the village’s master.
“If he returns, we should request the legacy of the Wandering Knight. We’ve protected the legend here for 250 years. We deserve compensation.”
Everyone except Philip nodded in agreement.
“Nowhere in the legend does it say we’re entitled to rob the successor.”
Philip’s sharp voice cut through the room. The weasel-faced man scowled at him.
“Don’t be stupid! We sacrificed so much—it’s only right to demand something in return!”
“If he offers it, we accept. If he doesn’t, we don’t demand. You’ll never understand that, no matter how many lives you live.”
The man nearly lunged at Philip, but Duke raised a hand to stop them.
“Enough. We don’t even know if he’s succeeded. Calm yourselves.”
They waited another month. When the month ended, they assumed Karl had failed.
“Tch. He must’ve died in there. This time, I’ll go in myself. You old geezers can just sit and keep praying.”
Frustrated beyond patience, Muller flipped the meeting table.
“You idiot! Muller! How dare you—this is sacred ground!”
“What sacred ground? This is just some useless old men’s club. I’ve heard enough.”
As those who followed Muller prepared to leave with him, the door slowly creaked open.
“Seems the mood’s a bit grim.”
A calm voice echoed, freezing everyone in the room.
“…! Sir Karl!?”
“Good to see you again, Philip.”
There he stood—expressionless, clothes in tatters—Karl had returned.