Chapter 56
"Are you leaving?"
"It turned out that way."
Isabel had come out to see me off. A faint trace of regret lingered on her face.
"Where there is a meeting, there is a parting, and where there is a parting, there will be another meeting."
It was a common phrase in Korea, but not so much here. Isabel repeated the words I had just said.
"Sir Karl, sometimes you sound like a sage."
"...Just something a drifter picked up somewhere."
Isabel smiled as she looked at me, always the same.
"As you said, a farewell is just waiting for another meeting. I look forward to our next."
I nodded and turned away without hesitation.
I was a wanderer, a drifter.
Now that the task was done, it was time to part ways.
And so, my horse Silver stepped onto the road.
"Do you wish to follow him?"
Cardinal Thomas spoke beside Isabel.
"I have things to do here."
Seeing the certainty in Isabel’s eyes, Cardinal Thomas smiled with satisfaction.
"I see. Right now, they're conducting the designation canonization inside. You’re the only candidate."
"What?"
A rare look of surprise crossed Isabel’s face.
"The designation might already be complete by now."
"...I am an Inquisitor."
"There's no reason you can't be both."
"..."
And so, on the same day I left, Inquisitor Isabel was designated as a Saintess.
***
Creaaak.
The tavern door opened, and a man clad in well-maintained chainmail with a longsword at his hip walked in. With dark hair and striking masculine features, his deep eyes stood out.
"Whatever roast fowl you’ve got—chicken or duck. And a cold... beer."
The man took a seat and ordered meat and beer.
"...It's lukewarm."
People cast brief glances at the new arrival, then turned their attention back to the bard who was in the middle of telling a story.
"And so, the Knight of the Lighthouse has achieved yet another feat that will shine for ten thousand years! This time, it's the Vatican!"
"No way…!"
"Yes indeed! Didn’t the Holy Father announce it recently?"
"That horrible affair!"
"That’s right! For resolving the human trafficking case and the blood-crazed witch who masqueraded as a Saintess, His Holiness personally bestowed a title and a holy relic upon the Knight of the Lighthouse!"
Upon hearing this, the black-haired man's face turned red.
‘This is insane…’
It wasn’t like I wanted fame, but my name had started spreading regardless.
"This cannot go uncelebrated. Raise your glasses! To the great Free Knight, the one who brings light—Sir Karl, the Knight of the Lighthouse!"
"To him!"
People clinked their beer mugs and shouted loudly. With the Emperor's passing, local lords and nobles across the realm had focused solely on consolidating power.
For many, that started by squeezing their domain's people even harder. In such grim lives, stories of the Knight of the Lighthouse became a satisfying tale. In an era where all the heroes had died, Karl's story was the perfect escape to drink along with.
"Hey there, mind if I hear a little more of that story?"
"But of course!"
"I’ll pay you. Let’s talk outside for a bit."
A man approached the bard who had just wrapped up a round of tales.
He looked like a knight, except that the space where his right arm should’ve been was empty.
"So, any rumors on where Sir Karl is now?"
"I last heard he was heading to Count Calido’s territory, the County of Collo."
"I see. No word on how far he’s gotten?"
"That much, I can’t say."
As they say, word travels fast—faster than Karl had expected.
Even though I wasn’t pushing Silver hard and moved slowly, the spread of the rumor was astonishing.
I looked up from my usual lukewarm beer and meat at the one-armed man speaking to the bard.
‘A knight.’
He was definitely a knight. From the look of him, he had been a right-handed swordsman—but that arm was now gone. Our eyes met. The one-armed knight got up and approached me.
"You appear to be a knight as well. May I join you?"
I nodded.
The knight sat down the moment I nodded. Then he ordered a bottle of cheap liquor and started drinking straight from it.
"After I lost my arm, I’ve been in constant pain. There’s no blood, no wound, yet the agony won’t stop."
He talked for a while, despite me saying nothing.
"You let me rant without a single complaint."
He looked me in the eye.
"You didn’t agree with me, did you? Just sitting and listening isn’t that hard."
I replied, and the one-armed knight laughed heartily.
"Thanks to you, I feel like I’ve let out some of the weight inside me."
He downed the bottle and staggered to his feet.
Hm...?
There were eyes following the weary knight’s every step. Definitely watching him. Someone was still keeping an eye on him, even in that state.
"How did Sir Harris, the Flashing Knight, end up like that...?"
"Shh! Keep it down…!"
People began whispering as the one-armed knight left.
"Don’t you know? Talking about Sir Harris is taboo. No telling where the lord’s eyes and ears may be."
They were whispering, but my ears, sharpened by experience, picked up every word.
‘He might be the start of it all.’
[Quest: Savior of Sinice.]
The one-armed knight seemed to be the first clue to a new quest that had appeared recently.
I stood and took a seat across from the storyteller.
It was time to learn more about what had been going on in the area.
Clink.
A silver coin landed in the bard’s palm.
"Could I hear more of your story?"
"But of course, Sir Knight…!"
The bard, seeing the glint of silver, launched into his tales with the zeal of someone ready to confess even the color of his underwear.
"Much appreciated. Think of this as payment for your effort."
I handed over another silver coin and quietly returned to my room.
***
Back in my room, I began sorting through the information I’d just heard.
[Several families nearby were ruined by Count Calido under false accusations.]
[In many cases, a lord died suddenly and was replaced by a successor—often resulting in the deaths or crippling of their loyal knights.]
[Sinice, where Karl was staying now, had just lost its lord during a monster subjugation. Rather than the designated heir, it was the lord’s half-brother who seized control. No one knew where the new soldiers and knights he brought in came from.]
[Such incidents were frequent around territories neighboring the County of Collo, ruled by Count Calido.]
‘Something stinks.’
Count Calido, now expanding his influence in the western part of the Empire, seemed to have stopped caring about appearances.
At this level of blatant movement, even the Grand Lords around him couldn’t stay silent. Which meant… he now had the power to ignore their complaints.
‘I wonder how Baron Vito is doing.’
I found myself thinking of Baron Vito, whom I’d met at the start of this journey. He was one of the few lords I could truly respect. And with him, the wise Selena came to mind.
‘Feels strange.’
Back on the East Continent, I’d tried to avoid forming connections—and mostly succeeded. But Karl now was different in many ways.
I closed those thoughts and drifted off to sleep.
***
The next morning, as always, I rose early and went to the clearing behind the inn to stretch.
Swoosh. Swish.
There, I saw Harris—training his sword with a single arm.
‘Huh…’
Despite his missing limb, the tip of his blade did not waver. It spoke of sheer, relentless effort.
"Kh...!"
After finishing a round of slashes, Harris’ movements grew sharper.
He was trying to perform techniques he’d once used with both hands.
From a distance, it looked smooth—but his expression betrayed the pain.
His face said it all. Nothing was going the way he wanted.
Clang.
His sword dropped to the ground. Soaked in sweat like rain, Harris collapsed on the spot.
"Impressive."
At my short comment, Harris slowly looked toward the voice.
"Heh..."
He chuckled, as if I'd made a joke. I added:
"I mean it."
Though Harris appeared much older than me, it didn’t feel strange that I spoke casually and he accepted it without objection.
"You must be Sir Karl, the Knight of the Lighthouse, as the rumors say? Since becoming like this, everything has become difficult."
It was only natural that wielding a sword with one arm would be nothing like having two. But he looked desperate.
"Why are you so set on wielding a sword again?"
"There are things I’ve left undone as a knight."
"Left undone?"
"I couldn’t stop my lord’s unjust death. I watched as the rightful young heir was cast out. I, a knight, protected nothing."
His eyes burned with fury.
"I lost my swordsmanship with my arm. But I plan to give this life to right that wrong and restore my young lord’s place."
Men like Harris, so upright they seemed about to snap, were frustrating but sincere. The problem was—he looked like he really might snap.
"What can one one-armed knight do to a Margrave?"
"I’m prepared to throw away my life. If I don’t think of returning, maybe I can take two steps forward instead of one."
I let out a long sigh and spoke.
"Pick up your sword."
Though it was practically a command, Harris grabbed his sword with his remaining arm without hesitation.
"Let’s spar."
Despite my casual tone and giving the first move to the weaker one, Harris saw this as an opportunity. He steadied his breath and approached slowly.
His left-hand thrust flew toward me. The form held, but the strength was lacking.
Clang!
Just by deflecting slightly, Harris’ balance collapsed. A clear handicap of his missing arm.
"Haa!"
But he didn’t give up. He stood again and attacked. His swings looked precarious and pitiful.
"Huff… Huff… Huff!"
For almost thirty minutes, I calmly blocked and redirected every strike as Harris repeated his attacks.
"That’s it? For someone ready to die, that’s weak."
"Not yet…!"
His dying eyes sparked again. And this time, he swung recklessly, with no control. He was out of stamina, using brute force and the weight of the blade.
...!
I lightly brushed aside his wild strike. His sword missed and dropped—his momentum sending him off balance.
I gently tapped his side with my foot. The motion redirected his collapsing body in a spinning arc—bringing him back to his stance.
...!
Harris felt something in that moment.
"No time to space out."
Without letting him think, I urged him again.
He swung. I tapped. Again, his body spun into a reset.
"Never seen one-armed swordsmanship before… but this might go somewhere."
At my offhand comment, Harris froze.
No matter how hard a one-armed swordsman tried, limits remained. But the moment he accepted that—he saw a new path.
He let his momentum curve like a river instead of resisting.
Rather than opposing the imbalance, he flowed with it and returned.
He felt his whole body awaken anew.
Harris’ head snapped up.
By the time he looked up, I was already back inside the inn.
"...Thank you…!"