Chapter 18: The Arrival of "Reinforcements"
Twin blades dripped with blood as the enemy’s numbers dwindled rapidly under Lancer’s furious onslaught. Yet Lancer frowned; as previously mentioned, no matter how wild his rampage appeared, he was still his cautious self at heart. Forever suspicious, he puzzled over the current situation. With his newfound command over blood, he sensed no other humanoid presence nearby—even so, his dual blades never ceased their dance. Broken bodies and spraying blood painted a brutal tableau, a cruel masterpiece on the battlefield.
“Chief, when will the reinforcements arrive? We all knew we might not make it back from this mission, but instead of throwing ourselves against this monster, why not just charge straight through?” The black-clad messenger, having just reported, reappeared beside the commander.
“It’s useless,” the leader replied. “Even if we tried to sacrifice men to hold him off—let alone whether anyone could manage it—do you really think that lunatic would ignore his rear and let us break through? After seeing how Lancer fights, I abandoned that idea. When our ordinary troops run at full speed, they’ll have no energy to watch their backs. The result… would only hasten our annihilation.”
“Damn it! Are those bastards still not here?” Muttering curses, the leader drew the sword at his waist. “Looks like I’ll have to join in myself, or else…” But to Lancer, wholly immersed in slaughter, anyone who appeared before him was doomed to die.
--- Line of Carnage ---
Gawain led Gaheris and Bedivere as they rushed down the mountainside.
“Brother, the scent of blood…” Although Gaheris was no match for his elder brother’s skill, as one of the future twelve greatest Knights of the Round Table, he had his own strengths—a keener set of senses than most, and a mysterious sixth sense. This had already earned him the name “The Flame Knight,” for he had foreseen the outcome before they even charged in.
“Indeed, the air is thick with blood. Looks like Lancer knows something after all; otherwise, he wouldn’t have left that letter.” Gritting his teeth, he urged, “Faster!” and dashed ahead. Gaheris and Bedivere did not accelerate as obviously as Gawain; they were not yet the legendary knights they would become. Suspecting a hard battle awaited them at the mountain’s foot, they conserved their strength, confident that neither Lancer nor Gawain would fall easily.
When Gawain arrived first at the foot of the mountain, he stopped dead in his tracks. The scene before him conjured memories of that fateful night—shattered corpses littered the ground, weapons and bodies alike in pieces. In the battlefield’s center stood Lancer, blades in hand, gazing up at the sky.
“Lancer! Don’t tell me…” On their journey, they’d heard many tales of dark creatures, and now Lancer resembled those legends—his skin strange, his killing merciless.
---
“Well, Gawain, you’ve come? Looks like you read my letter. But I’m curious—how did you get it? I said you were to receive it an hour later. I didn’t think they’d defy my instructions and give it to you early.” Though Lancer did not turn, his tone was not what Gawain expected.
“My weapon was bestowed by the Lady of the Lake, so I know Arthur’s true ‘identity’. I cannot believe, after living by his side for a year, you would not know as well. To those ignorant of this, it might seem your feelings for him are merely that of elder brother to younger—but…” Gawain did not finish, simply staring at Lancer.
“So, you do know. But what does that have to do with you receiving the letter?” Lancer had already guessed but asked anyway.
“Are you playing dumb? With those feelings, I don’t believe you’d skip the gathering. If you were absent, it must have been for something important. From Merlin and Arthur’s expressions, they clearly didn’t know. Naturally, I asked your attendant,” Gawain said, fixing Lancer with a look that seemed to say, “Are you still going to deny it?”
“Alright, my questions are finished. Do you have anything you want to ask?” Lancer now turned around. The only difference from his earlier frenzy was the complex emotion swirling in his blood-red eyes.
“Yes, I want to know what’s happened to you. Don’t tell me it’s your illness. I’ve never heard of a disease that changes a man’s skin or marks him with such patterns.” Though Lancer appeared calm, Gawain had to ask—he’d neglected it last time, and the strangeness was undeniable.
“First, let me correct you—there are diseases in this world that alter skin color. But I don’t wish to explain. These markings are a ‘curse’—the curse of power. When I gained this strength, I was cursed as well.” Lancer raised his hand, looking at his right arm—the first to change. Yet to him, it was not terrifying; for power, mere change of color was trivial.
“Is it worth it? I may never understand your feelings for Arthur, but must you go so far to protect him? Are we not worthy of your trust? As knights sworn to the king, are we not worthy?” Gawain now demanded loudly. By then, Gaheris and Bedivere had also arrived. Upon seeing the carnage, these unseasoned youths promptly vomited, but soon recovered, waiting for Lancer’s reply.
“Worth it? Is that worth asking? I don’t belong to this era. I cannot, like you, receive the Lady of the Lake’s blessing. In the coming war, you will all grow; even Gaheris and Bedivere will surpass who I am now. The Knights of the Round Table are the heroes of this age. As the first knight to swear loyalty to my king, can I tolerate anyone surpassing me as the king’s greatest knight? If I am to be surpassed, it will only be after my death!” Lancer’s voice was resolute. Perhaps at first, he thought he could simply follow the flow of the era to fulfill his task. But after the vampire’s attack, he realized this was no longer the age written in books. To protect the one who taught him the true meaning of responsibility—the first two-dimensional figure to enter his heart—he had gone mad, given the assurance he would not die.
“Gawain, you don’t understand now, but one day, when you find someone you would protect even at the cost of your soul, you’ll understand how I feel.” With that, he turned away.
---
“So long as I can gain the power to protect her,
I will pay any price—
Even if it means
Selling my soul to the devil!”
A steadfast oath echoed through the blood-stained air.
--- Elsewhere ---
“All units, advance! Second Corps, move out at speed!”