Chapter 49
“Ah… Lord above…!”
Isabel clasped her hands and looked up to the heavens after hearing Karl's latest report.
“I’ve sent a letter to Sir Godfrey. Rather than replying, he’ll likely come himself.”
“Do you think he’ll come that quickly?”
Despite their shared faith, the Holy Knights and the Vatican shared no overlapping chain of command.
The current Holy Knights were a group formed by those who had once marched east for a Holy Crusade—most of them were nobles from the West Continent, not clergy.
Godfrey was probably already investigating Count Calido in connection with Tarantula. So yes—he would come.
“Let’s give it a few days. If not, we may need to request official reinforcements from the Order.”
“Understood.”
***
Godfrey, having just escaped the grave of paperwork that followed the Julio investigation in the Burkden Domain, stretched with a satisfied sigh.
“Ugh… I feel like I’m turning to stone.”
Unlike other team leaders, Godfrey frequently operated outside the base, which meant he was also regularly buried in reports.
It wasn’t the fieldwork he hated—but the bureaucratic hell afterward, down to recording every minor expense and writing exhaustive reports.
“Captain, you have a visitor. He says he’s here to deliver a letter from Sir Karl.”
“Hmm… Sir Karl, the Free Knight? Let him in.”
A letter from Karl? Out of nowhere?
Godfrey didn’t quite understand why Karl would send him a letter.
The man clearly disliked being bothered—what could have moved him to write?
Soon, a sly-looking man entered the office, wearing an ingratiating smile.
Hmm… not the kind of person Karl would associate with.
The man was clearly flippant and unserious—definitely not someone Karl would keep company with.
“I’ve come to deliver a letter.”
Even the man's smile grated on Godfrey's nerves. Nevertheless, he accepted the letter.
“…Hmm.”
Godfrey read the contents, then closed his eyes in thought.
[There’s no one I can turn to but you.]
Those weren’t words one expected from Karl, and that made Godfrey take it all the more seriously.
The Holy Knights did not move at a captain’s whim. But if Godfrey chose to act—
There is a justification.
After all, his presence on the West Continent was to investigate the growing darkness enveloping it. Investigating Tarantula fell well within that mission.
“Wooster. Assemble the team. This report will be forwarded through another channel.”
Godfrey mounted his horse.
Behind him, twenty fully armed Holy Knights climbed onto their steeds.
“Full speed. Let’s ride!”
And so, Godfrey rode out.
***
In the dead of night, when everyone was asleep, Bishop Fabricio—always on edge since the Saintess arrived—suddenly rose from bed.
He quietly walked to the end of the second-floor hallway, entered a seemingly empty space at the far end of the master bedroom, and manipulated something.
A painting on the wall slid aside, revealing a staircase descending underground.
Step. Step.
The steps seemed endless. When he finally reached the bottom, a heavy iron door stood before him, guarded tightly by fierce-looking men.
Beyond the door lay a vast underground holding facility.
Cages stretched endlessly, filled with people—children, men, and women—all chained by the wrists and ankles.
They were emaciated, their eyes vacant, many appearing half-mad. Some looked like they had been held here for ages.
Then, footsteps approached from the opposite direction.
“Bishop Fabricio~ Been a while, hasn’t it?”
A man wearing a mask with three spider legs emerged from the darkness.
“Indeed, it has, Three-Legged Mask.”
“Exactly, Bishop.”
Even with his face obscured, the playfulness behind the mask was palpable.
“How many are we allowed to take this time?”
“Inquisitor Isabel and a man named Karl have the Vatican on high alert. Even getting this many out quietly is uncertain. Once their surveillance eases, take them all. Just deliver the agreed-upon sum.”
“You know us—we’re men of our word. The money will be here soon. But it’s a shame we can’t schedule a firm pickup.”
“They’ll be well-maintained. No deaths.”
“Of that, I have no doubt. But… one moment.”
The spider-masked man’s voice suddenly turned cold.
“Looks like we’ve got company, Bishop.”
“Company?”
BOOM!
The door behind them exploded.
“What the—urk!”
The guards were flung into the walls. Then silence.
Step. Step.
Footsteps echoed across the underground chamber.
A knight in chainmail and surcoat entered, holding a sword glowing faintly with light. Behind him stood an Inquisitor wielding a massive mace.
“Well, well… if it isn’t the infamous Knight of the Lighthouse, Sir Karl, who's been making waves across the continent.”
It was the Three-Legged Mask who broke the silence.
“What brings you to such a filthy place, Sir Karl?”
“You know me?”
“How could I not? You’ve disrupted enough of our operations. Frankly, killing you now would bring me great satisfaction.”
Despite Karl’s reputation as a Superior-level knight, the masked man showed no fear.
“How long do you think you can keep playing the lone hero?”
The moment he smiled, dozens of masked figures appeared from all sides—each wearing a spider mask.
There were at least fifty. And from the looks of them, none were weak. Especially this one—he was clearly Superior-level.
“You favor solo operations, I hear. Did you come alone again? Oh, I suppose with that Inquisitor, it’s two.”
“Who said it’s just the two of us?”
“…?”
Just as confusion flickered across the masked man’s face, footsteps echoed down the stairs.
Dozens of figures emerged, each bearing the golden lion of the Holy Knights on their surcoats.
Twenty-one elite warriors, hardened in the infernal battles of the East Continent.
They were the kind of soldiers who stood out even in a clash of thousands.
“The Holy Knights… getting involved in Vatican affairs? Well then… I’ve been played.”
The grin vanished from his face. In contrast, Karl’s lips curled upward.
“Your voice got quieter.”
In the same instant, Karl launched himself forward. Godfrey shouted:
“With steel and soul!”
“Holy justice!”
The Holy Knights roared their battle cry, forming a textbook-perfect formation.
The spider-masked forces had planned to overwhelm with numbers—but their advantage evaporated as the knights instantly locked into formation.
“Shield of Faith!”
Under Godfrey’s command, the knights widened their formation.
The enemy rushed, thinking they’d found an opening—only to be skewered by the swords thrust out from either flank.
The Holy Knights fought as one. Their formations were so seamless, they seemed to move as a single organism.
The masked attackers hurled themselves into the line to break it—but years of battle had honed the knights into an unbreakable wall.
While the spider-masked men clashed with the Holy Knights, Karl slipped through the chaos, straight toward the Three-Legged Mask.
With the blessing of the wind spirit, Karl's sword Léctĭo flew toward the enemy’s neck with frightening speed.
“Ghh!”
The masked man flinched and barely dodged—only for the sword to graze his neck, leaving a thin crimson line.
He’s fast!
Karl was faster than he’d anticipated.
Even as he reeled from the first strike, Karl’s second attack was already coming—aimed squarely at his abdomen.
Clang!
The masked man blocked it with a dagger—but the force of the blow made him grimace.
What is this strength…
His arm tingled from the impact. He rolled to the side, slashing his dagger toward Karl’s ribs.
At such close range, the dagger had the advantage.
Clang!
Karl deflected the blade upward—but a moment later, blood spattered from his side.
He blocked it—didn’t he?
Karl was confused.
He hadn’t seen when the dagger had cut him. Then, he noticed—something like black Qi flickering on the blade.
He’s not a Master, but… he’s using Qi.
This wasn’t proper Qi, but something similar—nearly impossible to block.
It wasn’t fatal, but accumulating wounds would wear Karl down over time.
“What's wrong? You’re not moving like before.”
The masked man’s grin returned. He danced around Karl, his dagger flicking at him with deadly precision.
The blade vanishes upon contact…
Karl couldn’t tell how it worked. He’d heard Qi could manifest in various ways, driven by belief.
Still, this man wasn’t a true Master—his Qi wasn’t complete.
If he were, Karl would be far more injured.
The masked man struck again—Karl deflected the first blade, but the second, wreathed in dark energy, shot toward his shoulder.
Karl dipped like a boxer, twisting away.
The Aura-laced dagger grazed his mail—but Karl charged forward, slamming his shoulder into the man’s chest.
“Gah…!”
The masked man staggered back—only for Karl to spin and slash.
This time, the blade sank deep into his abdomen.
“….”
Disbelief clouded the enemy’s eyes.
That hit…?
More attacks followed—each one landing, each wound accumulating.
“How…?”
“I may not have Qi, but even a ‘half’ can win.”
Snarling, the masked man lunged again—his daggers flying in a dual slash.
Shff!
“Yet even with Aura… you’re the real half.”
Karl’s sword carved a deep crimson line across the man’s neck. He crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
The rest of the battle, too, was nearing its end.